You don't

You start to rise, intending to flee his office when his cold voice stops you.

"Stop your tears Miss Carter," he commands harshly. "Stand up and show off the body you're obviously so proud of. After all, you went to all this effort, it would be a shame not to make use of it."

You look up, staring at him through puzzled tears, before slowly standing on shaky legs. You wipe away the tears on your cheeks and slowly stand up to face him. You feel an excited flutter low in your belly but brush the feeling aside and turn for him, showing yourself off before facing him, biting your lip as you look at his impassive face.

His eyes roam over your body, showing no sign of emotion as your anxiety builds.

"Pull your skirt up over your ass Miss Carter," he orders. "If you're going to show yourself off, do a thorough job of it." He smiles coldly at the shock flushing your face before adding, "And once you've done that, you can bend over my desk."

You look at you with complete shock. "Professor? You can't....can't be...be serious..."

He steps closer to you, only inches away, looking down into your face as he smiles at your unease. Holding your eyes with his, he slides his hand up your arm. You shiver at his touch, unable to look away from him.

"Miss Carter, let me make myself very clear," he says in a voice soft with menace. "You will pull up your skirt. And you will bend over my desk. Those are your only options if you want to stay in this course. Frankly, they may be your only option if you want to stay in school." Your eyes grow even wider.

"Choose quickly, Miss Carter," he said, his voice a velvet threat. "And while you're choosing, show off those tits you're so proud of."

Your body trembles as you stare wide eyed at him. Almost of their own will your hands find the buttons on your blouse, letting it fall open to show off your pretty lace bra. Without being ordered you undo the front clasp, letting it fall open to display your ripe breasts, your pierced nipples already stiff and hard.

Biting your bottom lip you step past him to his desk. Looking over your shoulder at him you bend over his desk as you tug your skirt up. Your belly is fluttering with excitement and you flush with embarrassment, then turn away from him, unable to meet his gaze, your slim fingers reaching out to grip the edge of his desk.