As he finished up his lesson and dismissed his students, the professor stood at his desk and awkwardly pushed his papers into his numerous folders, making sure to face away from his students so they wouldn't spot his obviously tented pants. Those 50 minutes took a toll on him, with nothing to distract him from the thought of her beautiful orange arches sliding against each other. He couldn't wait to get home, lay on his bed, and float into an imaginative world filled with her bright orange toes, thighs, and plump vaginal lips. Finding himself lost in thought, he was surprised to hear an "excuse me" from behind his back. "Oh no," he thought, "How am I going to hide this, now?"
As he turned to face his student, he pulled a stack of papers in front of his pants, masterfully blocking view of his rock-hard erection and seemingly soaked crotch. That devilish little seductress stood there, grinning. He saw her slide her line of sight down his body, apparently scoping him out. He trembled slightly, fearing that he had been found out. What could she want?
She knew she had the power in this situation, and she reveled in it. After what must have been an excruciating few seconds of delay, she pointed to her exam and asked to stay late to discuss her grade. She knew his office hours were immediately following her class, so he would have no excuse not to stay and talk with her--and she would be able to run multiple tests in order to determine if he was in any way to blame for the shockingly bright colored fabric which now permanently adorned her lower half.
After a quick nod, a shuffle of papers, and a quick climb upstairs to his office, they entered his office. She sat down in one of the chairs across from his desk, pulled the other alongside, and propped her feet up on her new footrest. "Oh boy," he thought, "This is going to be a long one..." He grabbed his answer key, pulled up his online gradebook, and answered each question she posed. As he kept going, he felt better and better about the situation. Yes, he wanted to slam her against his office door and drive into her masterwork nylon-covered pussy, but she didn't appear to know that, and she didn't ever have to find out. He knew that if she put even one ounce into seducing him, he would melt like putty in her hands. But at the moment, he was maintaining some semblance of composure. He was just mentoring one of his students. No big deal. He does this all the time.
She thought things seemed to be going okay in this meeting. He was acting relatively normal, and he wasn't even looking at her feet which remained prominently displayed on the seat next to her. Maybe this had nothing to do with him... But she had to be sure. He had passed the simple distraction test, but she was going to make things so much worse for him before she let him off the hook. She lifted her foot into the air and settled it on the toe of her other. Slowly, painfully slowly, she slid her heel out, then her sole, finally letting the shoe dangle on her toe. Just the smallest bit of her new orange skin was showing, but she had a feeling that was all it would take.
He spotted something bright out of the corner of his eye, and he knew he shouldn't look. He had to maintain composure. He would immediately lose his job if anyone even suggested that he had something going on with one of his students. He had to stay strong, and although his voice started to tremble, he remained steadfast.
She couldn't have that--no way. She knew he loved her toes, and thus he was the number one suspect at the moment. She had to know if he caused this life-changing transformation, because of course he would, if he could. She saw the way he stared at her feet in class. In the presence of her colorful toes, he was in heaven. Of course he would shape her as he saw fit, changing her into the perfect teasy toy. But if he DID do this to her--if he had the nerve to impose his selfish desires upon her physical body--she would have bloody payback. She had to know, so she took it one step further. She dropped the shoe from her big toe, and revealed her new skin to him. She flaunted her toes, arching her feet in full presentation.
Although his willpower was strong enough to defend against her initial assault on his senses, this newest move was one too far. He felt his inhibitions flood away in the rush of blood from his brain to his dick. He became lightheaded, and his heart thrashed in his chest. He had to do something, anything, to stop this. He stood up hastily, sending the folders and pens and trinkets on his desk flying onto the floor, and mumbled something about a forgotten meeting with a colleague, the veiny, bulging outlines of his penis were clearly visible along his pants. Clearly his engorged cock was stealing some of his brain's precious blood, acting as the true decision maker in this situation, as he walked around his desk and bent down to pick up the objects he sent careening. Never, ever, should he get that close to a student's feet.
She instinctually repositioned her body to give him more room to operate, but then realized the potential gravity of the situation at hand. She jumped at the opportunity presented to her, and slid her toes closer and closer to her professor, who was on hands and knees in front of his desk. She feigned a stretching yawn, pushing the bottom of her foot against the side of his face, splaying her toes into his cheeks as she did.
He yelped out loud in confused surprise to the soft, slippery material pushing against his face, and lost all ability to withhold. Even as she pulled her foot back an inch after her yawn, he could see the knit pattern of her orange toes. He could smell them. He wanted so much more.
But she pulled his attention away from her feet, and towards her, when she demanded that he stand up. A proper gentlewoman, she offered to help this man in need, explaining that she would pick up his belongings so he could get to his "meeting." As she bent over, her shirt revealed her back to him.
"Oh my god! It's spreading!" He exclaimed.
"What do you mean, it's spreading?" She returned, reaching around to inspect her backside. She saw orange spots reaching upwards from her pantline. It WAS spreading. She immediately turned to face him, adjusting her clothing to ensure every inch of her skin was fully covered from view. "What do you mean, IT'S SPREADING? What is IT?"
At that moment, he knew she had him by the balls. He couldn't even respond coherently, caught red-handed with information he shouldn't have, and just blathered something about a magical lamp.
She was livid. She screamed. She cried. She slapped him. "Do you even know how much pain you caused me!? Do you have any idea what you've done!? I'm completely ruined!"
He stood motionless, besides moving his hand up to cover his burning cheek. He remained in place until she stormed out. He crumpled down into his chair, and mulled over his current situation. "What will she do? What should *I* do? She will absolutely destroy my career if she talks to anyone about this..."