It doesn't start well

The bus ride back to college is uneventful, and you make your way across campus to the faculty office building. The directory tells you that Dr. Garrison's office is on the third floor and you decide to take the stairs to give you more time to think.

Your mind has been turning possibilities over and over, and you are no closer to feeling totally secure in your plan. If anything, as you get closer to the meeting, this whole idea of dressing to tease and flirt is beginning to seem like a bad one.

Outside his office door you pause, biting your lip, unsure of whether to knock or to flee.

You glance at your watch, and see that it's exactly three o' clock as you take a deep breath to steady your nerves and raise your hand to knock. A muffled voice tells you to enter, and you step into the small office, leaving the door open. Your professor is looking down at some papers he's reading, paying no attention to you.

"Shut the door Miss Carter," he orders, still not looking up. You comply, pushing the door shut then turning back to see him looking up at you. He leans back in his chair with an appraising look on his face as he surveys you.

"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me Professor," you say with a smile. "I really appreciate it."

You step towards the chair in front of his desk and start to sit, when his voice freezes you.

"I didn't give you permission to be seated Miss Carter." His voice is cold, shocking you. You look at him with eyes that are suddenly timid.

"Going to a costume party? Or did you think that showing off your body would be sufficient substitute for academic effort?"

The iciness of his tone starts to crumble your resolve. Of all the things you had considered, you did not expect this.

"I...I just wanted to dress up...I might....might...meet friends later. I'm...I'm sorry...I wasn't...wasn't trying to be unprofessional...." your voice trails away in embarrassment as he stares at you with cold regard.

"So your idea of dressing for a meeting with a faculty member is to show off your tits and ass and legs?" He smiles cruelly at your shocked gasp. "You're an attractive young woman, Miss Carter, but this behaviour doesn't speak well to your supposed intelligence."

His words cut through you like a knife, and unable to help yourself you sink trembling into the chair, tears starting to flow down your cheeks as you struggle not to sob. You're horribly embarrassed now, your former uncertainty about your plan now replaced with shock at his coldness and apparent disinterest.

"I'm so sorry," you sob. "I'm so embarrassed. I'll leave now."