#incentive

So that's how you ended up outside, sitting cross-legged under the shade of a large tree outside the History department building. It was a beautiful summer day and you figured it was a shame to be cooped up inside. You had your laptop in your lap and your textbooks spread out on the grass all around you whilst you enjoyed the gentle breeze that ruffled your hair and caressed your skin. The only sounds you could hear were very quiet muted chatter and laughter from way across campus and the chatter of birds on the branches above you, the occasional buzz of a passing bee. It was a perfect location, quiet and peaceful. It was just a shame you had to study, but needs must and at least there were no distractions... or so you thought...

Professor McCann was restless. It had been a long semester and the students weren't the only ones counting down to the summer break. He had a mammoth pile of papers to grade on his desk but the weather outside was far more inviting. If he had to read one more inept account of the Industrial Revolution and its impact on Western civilisation he thought he might actually go insane.

Maybe he'd just finish this last paper and take a break, step outside for a much needed nicotine fix and a breath of fresh air.

Bit of a contradiction that, he mused to himself, glancing out of the window as he flicked over the next page.

And that was it... there was no way he was finishing grading that paper now.

There you were, right outside his office window and completely oblivious to that fact. You were leaning back against the wide trunk of the oak that grew there, legs crossed in a demure pose whilst you frowned at your laptop screen, a cute little furrow creasing your brow. It was unusual to see you like this, so caught up in your studies, keen eyes scanning the screen then flicking to a textbook and then back again, the very tip of your tongue sticking out the corner of your mouth in a caricature of concentration as you paused to type. He leant back in his chair, the grading forgotten, watching you, letting his gaze trail over you. The glossy plumpness of your bottom lip as you pulled it between your teeth, the smoothness of your skin where you'd inched the straps of your little sundress down, the dappled sunlight hitting your shoulders and your bare legs through the branches.

He was conflicted for all of about one minute, knowing he should just leave you be to let you study but not quite being able to tear his attention away. Before he could talk himself out of it he was on his feet and cranking the office window open wide, calling out to you.

"Hard at work, eh? Or hardly working? Which is it?"

You'd recognise that voice anywhere and it never failed to make your heart skip a beat. You've not seen Van for a few days as he'd made it quite clear that he had a busy schedule so you'd stayed away, although you wondered whether maybe your subconscious had chosen this particular spot to study, right outside the History department building. You never realised his office was so close though.

"Oh... hi," you wave a little shyly, caught unawares, moving your laptop to the side and stretching out your limbs. Now this was one distraction that was entirely welcome. "Of course I'm working hard, well I'm trying to anyway. Just revising for next week's exam... not very successfully I might add."

"Oh?" He cocks his head back with interest, perching on the window-sill.

You straighten up where you sit, pushing your hair back over your shoulders. "I just can't seem to retain anything," you grumble, frustrated with yourself. "I'm reading the words but they're not sinking in. There's only a week to go and there's so much material to get though. My brain's just frazzled at this point."

"Maybe you should take a break?" He suggests, and you try to discern whether there's a hidden meaning in the simple phrase. You'd abandon your studies in an instant if you thought he was suggesting spending time with him instead. "Or maybe something else," he continues, looking thoughtful. "An incentive perhaps? To help you focus?"

"An incentive?" You echo, your interest piqued by the quirk of his lips, the way he emphasises the word with a hint of suggestiveness, tempting you. "What sort of incentive... Sir?"

"Why don't you pack up your stuff and come to my office. I'll show you..."

That's how you find yourself in such a compromising position that warm June afternoon, your tiny sundress bunched up around your hips as you sit on your Professor's lap, your back pressed flush against the heat of his chest. His lips are on your neck, sucking, nipping, teasing, not ravenously though. Slow and controlled, working methodically to find the spots that make you shiver and gasp, lingering when you let out a breathy whine, a needy "please Sir" on the tip of your tongue. His hands are curled around your thighs, fingers sinking into the flesh to keep them spread, daring you to try and press them together to feel the friction that you so desperately crave.

"What's up baby?" He coos into your ear, sweet and tempting. "You didn't think I was gonna make you come just like that did you?"

"But isn't that the incentive?" You ask hopefully even though you know that's not how Van works.

You're already writhing in his lap, rocking your hips to press down on his growing bulge, hoping to drive him into action, totally underestimating his steely self-control. He takes the greatest pleasure in teasing you and drinking down your desperation, pushing you to the brink just to hear how sweet you can beg.

"That's the reward..." he tells you, fingers moving upwards to trace the very edge of your panties, dipping lightly underneath the lace at the crease of your inner thigh. Close but nowhere near close enough. "... but only if you're a good girl and you work hard on your revision. You need to focus. You're far too easily distracted."

The audacity of this man.

"But.. but I was revising!" You complain, incredulous. "You're the one who interrupted me! I've been sitting out there for over an hour. That's plenty long enough for..."

"I'll say when you've worked hard enough," he grits out, his rough tone accompanied by a firm squeeze of your thighs, harsh enough to show you who's in control and cut your words off dead. His dominance sends a shock of sticky heat to your core. You can already feel the steady pulse of your clit beneath the thin fabric of your panties, the obvious damp patch forming there staining your cheeks a hot, scarlet flush.

"Would you just look at that," he mocks scornfully. "Soaked through and I've not even touched you yet. I wouldn't get too worked up baby, we've not even started yet. It's gonna be a very long afternoon for you if you can’t restrain yourself."

You bite back a whine, knowing that acting like a brat will only prolong the tormenting he has in store for you, your heart sinking as he picks up a thick textbook and plonks it down on the desk in front of you. "We'll begin shall we?"

"You're not seriously going to make me revise like this are you?"

He sighs at your petulant tone although you know damn well if you were facing him you'd see the wicked glint of delight in his eye. "It's quite simple. All you need to do is read two pages from the textbook and then you can have your reward."

"Really?" You ask, suspicious. "Just two pages?"

There's no way he'd give in to you that easily normally but you dare to raise your hopes. You saw the way his hungry gaze had raked down your body in your flimsy dress when you'd entered his office. You can feel the warm stiffness of his cock digging into your ass through his jeans. He's just as desperate for you as you are for him, that much is clear.

"Really, that's all you need to do," he confirms calmly. Much too calmly. He's setting you up for a fall, that much you're sure of but you let yourself be lead along anyway, loving the teasing games you two play. Your naivety such a sweet temptation to him.

"Any two pages?"

You reach out towards the book, leaning forward slightly so your ass grinds against him, satisfied when you hear him growl low under his breath. He might be in control but you won't make it easy for him. He shifts on the seat, spreading his legs which causes yours to widen also, hooked over his the way they are.

"Any two you like, but there is a condition.”

"I knew it!" Your raised tone is triumphant and you hear him chuckle. "There's always a bloody catch! You don't play fair."

He nuzzles into your neck, drawing the sensitive flesh between his teeth to suck a bruise which his tongue laves over to soothe as he murmurs against your skin. "I always play fair, you know that. All you gotta do is read without messing up or moaning like a whore. You think you can manage that?"

Oh... this is good. The smile stretches wide on your lips. It sounds simple but nothing's ever simple with him. If one thing's certain you know you can always rely on your Professor to test your limits and dole out the most delicious of punishments when you inevitably fail.

"And if I don't?"

"Hmm..." he hums, fingers toying with the lace trim on your panties, stretching the elastic to let it snap against your skin. "Well, then you gotta start over."

"Bring it on!" You grin, wriggling purposefully on his lap whilst you reach for the textbook and flip it open, groaning internally when you sight the tiny, densely packed font. You clear your throat and begin to read...

"A marked difference between the earlier and later Empire was the diminishing importance of the slave class in the Roman world..."

It's all going so well, but then you've only read one small introductory paragraph, your mind not really taking in the text. How can you be seriously interested in the influence of Christianity on the Roman Empire when you're seated on your hot Professor's lap, legs spread wide whilst he presses hot wet kisses to your neck? You can feel the hardness of his cock insistently pressing into the swell of your ass, the drag of his soft lips along the junction of your shoulder, the sting of his teeth as he nips at your flesh. Goosebumps erupt everywhere that he touches, your sensitivity heightening as electric tingles radiate down your spine.

A solitary fingertip lazily caresses the damp strip of fabric between your legs, skating over your clit again and again. Warm streaks of pleasure unfurl in your core, a tempting stir that deepens your breathing even though your voice is still steady as you read... for now.

He's teasing you but he's doing it slow, deliberate cocky confidence in his actions, self-assuredness like he has all the time in the world, not a thousands words of text which are tripping off your tongue with perfect pronunciation. If he doesn't up his game soon you'll be victorious.

"Doing so good for me," he murmurs into your ear, lips lightly brushing the shell. The whisper of his hot breath stirs you further, his praises perfectly timed as a finger slips beneath the lace and ghosts lightly over your bare clit. It's a deadly combination which see your hips twitch and your voice waver, but still you carry on, determined even as he roughly pulls the material to one side to expose your glistening cunt to the cool office air.

"Keep going... don't stop," he reminds you.

"It is true that the overthrow of slavery is commonly attributed to the... uhhh... C... Christian church..."

You swallow down the moan which threatens to claw its way up your throat as he begins to circle your little bud over and over again with increasing pressure. It feels amazing, your voice straining as it takes on a breathy tone. You're so aroused he could make you come in a few minutes with just a lone fingertip, the barest attention on your needy core. Shame for him he doesn't have the luxury of a few minutes to play with though. You're already four lines from the bottom of the first page, speeding up as your confidence grows.

"Take all the time you need," he whispers, low and seductive as his touch suddenly moves away. "Maybe you should slow down a bit though..  really concentrate on what you're reading. You don't wanna make a mistake now do you?"

It takes you all your restraint not to stop and laugh out loud but that would surely count as a fail and you're not falling for his tricks. There's no way you're going to listen to his advice, he's probably realised that he's completely underestimated you and now he's wasting time fishing around for something in his desk drawer, likely trying to distract you. You're curious but you ignore him, keeping your eyes firmly glued to the page. You're already dreaming of how good it's going to feel when he makes you fall apart, the euphoric relief it'll bring to the increasing ache between your thighs. There's absolutely nothing he can do to sidetrack you from your well-deserved reward... nothing at all.

Or so you think.

Ultimately it's your hubris that's your downfall, the triumphant overly confident tone your voice takes on as you start on the second page, the end clearly in sight. You're sure that's what provokes him to play dirty but it's just as likely that he'd concocted his wicked plan right from start.

You're so focused on your goal that you barely react when you hear a faint humming sound under the drone of your voice, still not really paying attention until you feel the completely new sensation of something cool and smooth and pleasurably ticklish sliding between your spread thighs and nudging against your clit under the desk.

What the hell is that?

"The notion that the Empire was steadily declining during this period... ahhh.... uhhh... what the fuck?"

The distraction's immediate and catastrophic and you tear your eyes away from the page, looking down to confirm what you'd suspected. Not content with using just his hands he's decided to tip the balance in his favour, a slim vibrator pressed against your most sensitive area. The vibrations are faint but temptingly delicious, a slow steady throb like a heartbeat pulsing on your already sensitive nub.

"Didn't want you getting too complacent," he mutters, moving the toy downwards to coat it in your slick. "Now I think you need to start from the beginning. That was the agreement wasn't it?" He dips the head of the vibrator inside you briefly and then drags it back up to your clit, ensuring it hits all your sweet spots.

"But that's not fair! You cheated! You never said anything about using... that... that thing!"

You protest hotly but your complaints soon devolve into passionate sighs as he rolls the tip in a circular motion over your clit whilst simultaneously flicking the vibrations up a notch.

"Maybe I should stop then hmm? Is that what you want?" His free hand wraps even tighter around your waist, holding you firmly in place as he continues his blissful assault. The pleasurable waves build and stir and grow until you feel like you're going to erupt into red hot lava and overflow all over his lap.

"No... don't stop... please... fuck... feels so good... ahhh..."

But then he does stop.

"What the hell?" You whine, feeling cheated.

"Forgetting something Y/N?" He taunts low and gruff, moving the toy away from you and leaving you frustratingly high and dry. "May I remind you we had a deal. You read and then you get your reward. It's quite simple really. And there's me thinking you were such a clever girl as well.”

"But Sir..." you groan under your breath, pouting in frustration as your words die on the tip of your tongue. You'd argue back but you know insolence will only add to your torment. Last time you'd dared to challenge your Professor's unconventional take on learning a valuable lesson in patience you'd found yourself bound spreadeagled to his desk and edged to the point of tears just for his own twisted amusement.

So you swallow back your disappointment and take a deep breath. You're nothing if not determined. You can do this... just zone out... set a steady pace and stick to it... pick the words off the page one by one.

Now that you know what you're up against you can do this easily. You begin to read...

Forty-five minutes later and you've still not managed to reach the end of the first page. You've lost track of how many times you've had to start over, how many times he's brought you close to your peak, so tantalisingly near but not quite close enough. A hair's breadth, if even that.

"Please Sir... please... I can't. I can't keep doing this."

You beg pitifully but your pleas fall on deaf ears. You're covered in a fine sheen of sweat, your blood practically boiling in your veins, your cunt clenching around nothing as he presses the vibe firmly against your over-sensitive clit. You can barely even think straight let alone string a coherent sentence together.

"Just read the fucking page Y/N. Needy little sluts like you don't just get to come whenever they feel like it. They have to earn it. Do you understand?"

"For fuck's sake," you huff haughtily and you feel the harsh pressure of his fingers as they curl tight around your hips, a subtle reminder of who's got the upper hand. The fact that he could keep this up all afternoon if it so pleased him.

"What was that?"

"I meant yes Sir," you mumble quickly, dragging your eyes to the top of the page once again, your core pulsing as you feel the blissful swells of pleasure start to build once again.

He's cruel but you love his merciless streak, the way he taunts you wickedly, the way his lips curve into a satisfied smile against your neck as you falter and stumble over your words time and time again. Everything between your legs is a wet, sticky mess, the dribble of slick that leaks from you each time you almost crest your peak dripping down between your thighs and soaking into his jeans. The coil in your abdomen is curled up so tight you feel like you might combust.

"You’re perfect like this," he whispers softly, moving the vibrator away temporarily to give you a chance to catch your breath. "So desperate, so fucking needy... think you'd do just about anything to come right now wouldn't you?"

"Yes," you gasp, feeling pathetic as your hopes start to raise at his words. "I'd do anything... absolutely anything. Just say the word. You want me to suck your cock? I'll do it. I'll get down on my knees right now for you. I just can't read another word of that bloody book!"

You can feel the amusement vibrating through him, a low dark chuckle reverberating deep in his chest that in turn tingles down your spine.

"Oh... you'd like that wouldn't you? Always so desperate for my cock... it's pathetic really."

Then without warning he sinks two fingers deep inside you, hooking them upwards to brush that hidden spot that makes your toes curl. The vibrator is pressed against your bud of nerves simultaneously, the combined sensations so sweet you can feel your teeth grinding together, your lashes fluttering shut as you tip your head back against his chest. Within seconds you're on the very brink of yet another promised climax, walls flexing around his knuckles, soft moans and sighs dripping from your parted lips.

And just like that the pressure is gone, snatched away from you so cruelly whilst he coos soft and reassuring in your ear, a maddening contradiction that would probably have you sobbing right now if it didn't turn you on so goddamn much.

"Doing so, so good for me," he whispers, his fingers lazily raking up inner thigh, making you shiver. You whimper as he moves up further still, dragging them through your folds, gathering the slick of your arousal which he then thrusts into your face. "Wanna know what desperation tastes like huh? Now be a good girl for me and clean up your mess."

Your skin burns with delicious humiliation as you obediently part your lips and let him slip his glistening fingers into your mouth, an involuntary moan escaping as you dutifully suck your own juices from his skin, tangy bittersweet. You hear him groan softly behind you as you swirl your tongue around his digits, cleaning every last drop of your slick, every inch the eager little slut that he wants you to be.

"So dirty... such a filthy little whore and it's all for me. Don't think I'm ever gonna tire of hearing your pretty noises. In fact I'm sure you can handle a little more... so where were we?" You feel the pressure of his touch leave your hip, his hand extending in front of you on the desk. "Ahhh, there, right there... "he taps at the top of the page firmly with his index finger, his tone deepening, hard and stern and commanding. Unyielding. “Now read."