Her Office

She seems content to walk across campus at a leisurely pace, and I don't see a reason to mess with whatever she has planned. If she's planning to ambush me in her offices, I can pin her and work some magic. If she wants to talk things out and I don't like the way the conversation turns, I can pin her and work some magic. If she wants something I don't expect, I can work some magic. And if she wants more...I can work some magic.

No matter which way I look at it, I'm going to win this encounter. So, I tuck my free arm behind my head as we move along the campus streets. "How was the luncheon?"

"The food wasn't as bad as I feared. Last year, something went wrong with the goods the headmaster prepared, and they ended up tasting something foul." As she says this, we reach an intersection. She moves me right, and we continue. Curiously, she hasn't relented her hold on my arm. If anything, it's gotten tighter, with both arms now hugging mine like a vise. It's hard to resist the temptation to tear off her clothes and take her right here when I can feel her bosom pressing into me, but I pull through, sending all my lust into Wilt & Blush to keep my buddy downstairs socially presentable.

I don't pour it into the lovely lady hanging on my arm. Not yet at least. Instead, I'm more than happy to observe every facet of her I can see out of the corner of my eye. What. A. Damn. FEAST. I already poured over how her choice of clothing is the perfect complement for her slim, yet stacked form. The compression shirt leaves nothing to the imagination, so tight around her torso that I can almost hear the latex crinkling and molding around her as she moves. Her shorts are much the same. Her butt and upper thighs might as well be naked, given I can see the lean musculature beneath the surface.

Thoughts of her naked come easier and easier. I wish I had Wilt & Blush back when I was still in my world. It could've conveniently solved many awkward situations before they could happen. Professor Greene is oblivious to my trains of thought, and I wonder if she would be embarrassed by them at all. She comported herself well under pressure during the luncheon, and she may do the same again for what's to come. I kind of want to see if I can push her a bit.

She looks like she's ready to say something, so I beat her to it. "What do you do as the Professor of Stealth and Security? Sounds like a boring position where you just stand around and peek on people all day."

"Peek on people?"

"Yeah. Spying on them as they go to the bathroom or are busy busting one out or something." I raise an eyebrow at her. "I refuse to believe someone with your expertise hasn't at least considered the idea."

She sniffs. "I would do no such thing. Yes, my position requires me to breach the privacy of people or groups of interest from time to time, but not for something as degenerate as that."

"Degenerate? Then what thoughts were you having back in the luncheon?" I espouse something between a laugh and a cough as she elbows me. At least it wasn't too hard.

"Mainly all the things I would do to your genitals as thanks for that strange treatment." Whatever lewd ideas I have are briefly wiped out in the chilly breeze that follows. "For example, cock and ball ****."

"K-kinky. Is that the kind of stuff you like?" What the hell is wrong with me? Why is the thought of Greene here giving me corrective punishment giving Wilt & Blush greater fuel than normal? I'm not a submissive guy!

"Not typically. But I could make an exception for you. You played a dangerous game in there. And I didn't appreciate it one bit."

"I probably wouldn't appreciate it if I were on the receiving end either," I agree, stretching my neck as she drags me around more. We're back near the professors' suites, and for a second, I think she's the kind of person who works, eats, sleeps, and fucks all in the same place. But no, we continue right on past to another of the towers that penetrate the skyline above the rest of the academy's buildings. I think this one is a transmission tower for the CCT system the world of Remnant relies on for long-distance communication, but it's better not to ask. I don't want to seem weirder than I already am in Greene's eyes and risk raising her priority suspicion of me. Or whatever it would be called--I'm operating under a little pressure, okay? Despite how easily I seem to be handling things, it's not that simple! Cut me some slack.

It would make sense for a professor whose responsibilities also cover monitoring communications coming in and out of Beacon to have at least one of her offices here. I'm pretty sure she also has other offices, but all I need to work my magic is a private space where there's no distractions, and no potential interruptions. I need to keep that in mind. My first test run with Coco was actually pretty lucky, all things considering. Sure, I did it before the start of the term when the bulk of the student body arrives, and the janitorial staff shouldn't have too many reasons to snoop around the teaching halls when there's no rowdy student body to pick up after, but there's always a chance of someone stepping in unintentionally on my deeds. Ciel's Time Out doesn't pause time; it just extends and prolongs it within my vicinity relative to the rest of the world. If I take longer than a real-time second to complete the deed--which would be one minute of sexy time from my perspective--someone could walk in. There's no magic keep-out domain field thingy watching my back. I'll have to keep my guard up.

There's not a lot of people bustling about inside. Most of the work should be automated. The bottom floors are mostly deserted, which means Greene doesn't bother wasting time with conversing with the rare person we do see. We cross dozens of aisles of databanks, each operating on principles I have no clue, since Remnant has Dust, which does...what exactly? Not as immediately relevant as the boobs pressing into my arm, certainly.

She leads me into the stairwell, where we go up the long way. We don't go to the top floor, stopping somewhere around the middle and exiting the stairs. Sensing my question, she grunts--an unattractive noise that immediately becomes attractive purely by virtue of her making it--and says, "I don't like elevators. They rob you of easy exercise."

"Does walking do that much for you?"

"No," she admits easily enough, "but moving up and down stairs whenever possible will contribute to getting my daily steps in."

If it's daily exercise she's worried about, I could solve that problem really quick be introducing her to my "exercise regimen." I don't say it out loud, of course. But then something about what she said ticks me the wrong way. "Wait. Then why did you take the elevator to the Professor's office?"

"Because I'm early whenever Ozpin calls. You should make it a habit to be as well."

I snort. "By what, a minu--oof." Her elbow connects for the second time. I'm almost tempted to prematurely release some of Wilt & Blush's stores now to put her in her place, but I reign in said temptation. Come on, John, the longer you let it simmer, the better **** tastes.

We arrive at our destination: a drab, utilitarian office with a desk, a display of several scrolls affixed to one wall, a security camera in one corner, and some thick-backed office chairs with cushions. The office isn't located near the exterior of the tower, so there aren't any windows. Daintily and passively, like she wasn't just clinging to my arm a second ago, she slides behind the desk and begins pulling up files. With nothing to do, I lean against the wall and am content to study her face. Just as appealing as the rest of her. I contain a sigh and channel another large burst of arousal into Wilt & Blush. My pants might be torn through by my mini me if I hadn't chosen that ability.

As cool as I want to feel and seem, she's got better patience than me. She continues switching between different files and studying their contents, for all intents and purposes acting as if she's alone in her office. At least there's a clock in one corner. I watch it for around fifteen minutes, periodically injecting another dose into Wilt & Blush while waiting for her to address me. When nothing of the sort is forthcoming, I figure this is some kind of test. Or maybe a way to get back at me? Whatever it is, I'm not having it. My time is just as important as anybody's, and I let her know that by stepping up to the desk and depositing myself in one of the chairs. Odd...these are big enough for two people two, just like my chair in the teaching hall.

I kick up my feet and rest them on the desk. And entirely without intention, they just happen to pass through the projected files, interrupting Greene's concentration. She sighs, and leans back in her own chair, dismissing the files and mirroring my pose so we both have our legs kicked up on opposite sides of the desk. I take another look around the office, then dismiss it. Unless there's hidden weapons or some kind of super defense system she's set up--and I'm not ignoring that I don't know what her Semblance it--the only thing worth mentioning in this room by the end of the day is her. Door is closed too, which saves me the trouble. Now, am I jumping her, coercing her, or just doping her with Wilt & Blush?

"Why did you tamper with my nervous system earlier?"

"I wanted to test something."

"'Test', hmm? That mean you're not entirely used to your Semblance."

Smart, catching on to my choice of words like she did. But at the same time, too limited in scope to consider that I technically don't have a Semblance at all. Just a random jumble of powers that help me less with becoming a successful Huntsman, and more with laying all the Huntresses that will pass through Beacon. "You're not wrong, but I know enough."

"Enough for what?"

"What do you think?" Turning her questions back on her is a deflection method she should be able to perceive without difficulty.

"I'm not sure." She sits up and extends her arm across the table. "I don't think you meant anything too hostile by it; else you wouldn't have done it in mixed and proficient company. It was quite the trusting move on your part to think that I would take your treatment silently."

"But you didn't."

Her cheeks are turning a pale pink. Nice. "It w-wasn't the worst sensation in the world. I was...curious where you were going with it."

I also sit up and extend my arm, so skin-to-skin contact is stopped from occurring by a couple centimeters. "And are you still?"

"My professionalism dictates a harsh no." She shrugs, and her fingers slowly creep closer to mine of their own volition. "But then again, it's been so long since I've had a reprieve."

My fingers begin to creep closer to assist in closing the gap, but that's when hers stop. "Ah, ah, ah. I'm still not onboard."

I'm beginning to realize this woman isn't as easy as Coco. Not that Coco was easy, but she didn't need to be toyed with much or probed at all. "Do you know what 'onboard' entails?"

"Don't ask stupid questions." Her flush isn't fading. If anything, I'd argue she's getting more excited. She hides it well, but her chest is slowly increasing its pace of motion. "I want to know some things."

An interrogation. It could be interesting, but the moment she asked something I didn't know or couldn't answer, I was turning to doping and then jumping. "Shoot."

"Why do you have two Semblances?" Beside our splayed fingers, still close to touching, a file materializes, and I have to lean forward. The action brings me closer to her chest, so I can't complain too much about the light stretch I feel. The file is from this body's student days, when he looked younger, less lean, and...still with that dreadful buzz cut. This guy needed help. But what captures my eye is his Semblance description. According to it, he could previously vibrate parts of his body and--and here's the kicker--detach them. Like, full-on separation from his body. An entire limb, like a leg. An ear. A fingernail. His...dick--okay, why was that in the public description?! And the detached bits could vibrate too. To contain my reaction, I go no further than a furrowed brow, but Greene takes a different meaning from it. "That trick you pulled in the luncheon wasn't the effects of Dust. I know what every pure Dust type, and nearly every Dust combination mixture feels like. That wasn't Dust, what you did."

Here's the first big burner. The crossroads. Off the top of my head, I could say my Semblance changed. That stuff does happen in Remnant. But the problem with that would be is that Greene would probably see through my lie in less than a second. Should I go with that? Or maybe be truthful about this whole mess I'm in? Because as weird and beneficial as it's turning out for me, it's still exactly that. A mess. Or is it time to jump her? I kind of want to jump her, just to place this game of words behind us.