Follow him to his office.

With no excuse to avoid it, you hesitantly agree and follow him to the office. You knew that you weren’t doing particularly well in the class, but never thought it was bad enough to warrant a private talk. Surely, there were many others that were doing worse, right?

His office was located at the very end of the hallway, away from the main hallways and areas where students would study and wait for their next classes. You sit down at the desk, and he quickly opens up his laptop and begins lecturing you about your poor performance.

As he lists out all the assignments you’ve done badly on, you’re frozen in place. Have you really done this bad in class? You try to remember the grades that Noah received on his assignments for comparison, but the worry of failing the class starts to overwhelm you. It was one of your required classes, and you really didn’t want to have to retake it.

“…And I do have a proposal for how you can still pass considering your current grades.” He finishes.

You perk up at that offer. “Yes professor, I really need to pass this class.”

“Come over and I can pull it up on my screen.” He motions towards his side.

As you approach his side of the table, you’re reminded of your attraction to him, even more so now that he’s offered you a way to improve your class performance. As you lean down to look at the screen, you can smell the cologne he wears, and you unconsciously lean closer to chance after the scent.

Suddenly, you feel his hand at the side of your hip, rubbing slowly in circles.

“Um…professor? What are–” You begin to protest.

“You said you really need to pass this class?” He interrupts.

“Yes, but…” You trail off as you fully process what he had pulled up on his laptop screen. It was just a random document filled with notes, and nothing to do with any extra work you could do to improve your grade.

His hands grasp around your hips and pull you down into his lap, where you can feel a large bulge between your legs.

“Would you rather that you fail this class, and leave a permanent smear on your record?” He growls into your ear.

Frozen in shock, you desperately try to process the situation you found yourself in. It was the first day of being a girl (at least in your eyes), and you were already being **** into sexual favours. A small part of your brain was yelling at you to stop this at once and report the man for harassment. Yet somehow, your body was reacting favourably to the situation.

There was a searing heat growing between your legs, and you had to suppress your body’s instinct to press back against the bulge and chase after the pleasure. His hands had moved from your hips to caress your breasts, gripping and slowly massaging them, sending pleasant shivers down your spine. And the more you breathed in the tantalising scent of his cologne, the foggier your brain seemed to become.

“So… Do you want to pass the class?”