Take a seat at the table.

“I can… trust you, right?” you whisper, wincing at the sweet lilting sound of your voice.

“I’m as trustworthy as you are beautiful,” Nick grins.

“Sh-shut up,” you say.

Why can’t I stop blushing?

Still red faced from the young man’s teasing, you take a seat at the table, crossing your legs as you do. You hate the feminine pose you’re reduced to – legs crossed, hands on your lap, back arced – but it’s simply the safest way you can think to comport yourself.

“Now,” you begin, then stop. You clear your throat, try to make your voice deeper, more imposing.

“N-now tell me what you know,” you say, with reddened cheeks, sounding like a girl asking for an escort to the prom.

Nick hides his grin, trying to keep a calm façade. Oh this was just too perfect. Here was Myles Teague, notorious hardass, a man who seemed to always have the answers, reduced to this delicate young beauty, without even the presence of mind to put on pants.

And what a beauty she was… not in his wildest dreams could he have imagined that Professor Teague could be transformed, not just into a woman, but this ethereal blonde goddess, with the large liquid eyes and pouting lips, and cheeks always so easy to blush.

Nick wanted to tease her. He wanted to torment her.

He wanted, more than anything, to have his way with her while she screamed his name.

Luckily, while his former professor was primping, he’d settled on a plan.