Miss Rey Kenobi came into Ben's class twenty-five minutes late and barely half dressed.
The first part he was used to. Over the two years she'd been attended the Institute, she'd been on time to class less often than she was late. The clothing lack of thereof, however, was a new development.
And did he mention that she was also twenty-five minutes late? Into a fifty minute class? Today was going to be a bad day, Ben could tell that already.
"I'm surprised you bothered coming in at all."
At first he doesn't trouble himself with addressing her directly as she clicked through the aisles towards her seat in the back row. Instead he simply calls it out over his shoulder because all the rest of his students had been seated on time and who else could he be taking about?
"Wouldn't have missed it for the world, Professor. And I'm sorry I'm late, I had gotten up to something and just couldn't get away."
The rest of the class breaks out into giggles, their resident Bad Girl living up to her reputation as their personal amuser. With the way they all acted you could be forgiven to think they were still teenagers in the early parts of high school. No, rather they were a room full of emerging adults who fell both at the wrong side of society and the very end of Ben's patience. One of them in particular really had a way of getting under his skin.
"Have a seat," he tells Rey irritably, going back to scribbling the equations out on the whiteboard.
"Of course, Professor."
Her accent always kills him, but not necessarily in a bad sort of way. Ben will never admit it to himself or anyone, but the tone of her voice is one of the things keeping him up at night. That, and how he might be about to get fired because of her.
And then her chair squeaks miserably, grinding against the floor as she draws it out to sit down. The amusement of the rest of the class drops with an echoing sense of annoyance and gritted teeth. Ben finally turns around, ready to shoot her a pointed glare even though he knows she was baiting for his attention all along.
His glare doesn't get to far.
Miss Kenobi isn't wearing her uniform. Or at least not enough of it to count. Instead she's all open neckline, short, short skirts and 'go ahead, do something about it' attitude. It made him want to strangle her. Made him want to do a lot of different things to her.
At the Institute, all students have a strict dress code. Plaid skirts, white button down tops, and black shoes. Miss Kenobi has the shoes the correct color, but everything else is more skin than fabric.
"Something wrong?" she asks, blinking innocently at him.
The class ripples with giggles again. Ben had gotten caught staring. The object of his torment had noticed. Today really is going to be a bad day, isn't it?
He'll have to reprimand her for her outfit later. If he were to do it now, it would show Miss Kenobi that she can get the upper hand on him and that absolutely can't be allowed. Someday he'd like to have the chance to show her who's really in charge around here.
"Turn to page sixty-nine," he says, picking up his dry-erase marker and trying to calm his mind back out of the gutter. Another round of giggles breaks out and it takes him a few moments to catch on.
Gods. These girls were nearly hopeless. A bunch of overgrown children who somehow passed into the world of adulthood retaining the sense of humor of a twelve year old boy.
"Oooh, I like this page. Very stimulating stuff."
Ben shoots Miss Kenobi another glare over his shoulder. Rey is nibbling on the tip of her index finger, staring at him with virtuous, Bambi eyes. This time the laughter in the room is more subdued. His pissed off body language must be giving him away and only one student dares to risk getting sent to the front office just to be a provoking little brat.
Rey's on the right page, at least. Turned to page sixty-nine of the star charts and her other hand, the one she isn't currently mock-fellating, has a pen poised over a blank page of her notebook.
Ben clears his throat, tries to shrug the tension out of his shoulders, and continues with the midpoint of today's lesson.
The thing about Rey Kenobi was that, when she applied herself, she actually could be a good student.
Really good, in fact. Her grades in the two classes she had with Ben, Radiation Measurements in Astrophysics and Extrasolar Planets, were nearly a perfect 4.0. Her grades in nearly every other class apparently were dreadful, at least from what he'd heard from the other professors.
It made it hard for him to fail her. He could, he was allowed to flunk students for misbehavior, but Ben was reluctant to make an example out of Miss Kenobi. From what he'd gathered, her future at the Institute was looking rather bleak, but her future without it would be much, much worse.
And okay, maybe, maybe a part of him didn't exactly mind seeing her everyday. There was a constant battle within him about exactly which part this was.
"Class is dismissed," he tells them after the longest half-lecture of his recent memory. "Turn your assignments into my drop box before midnight or the highest grade you'll be able to receive is a seventy."
Legs in skirts begin to rise from seats, none of them more bare than Miss Kenobi's. Ben gets ready to breathe a sigh of relief. She'd behaved herself for the short remainder of class, true. But, every time he'd looked at her, she was staring right back with doe eye and that damned finger in her mouth. Brat. Bratty bratty brat.
Then, naturally, Rey 'accidentally' drops her notebook on the floor as she was walking by his desk.
If she had been raised to act like a proper young lady, she would know how to pick it up without showing herself off. Ben had seen other women's legs fold on themselves like spiders when they bend down, especially when they have to pick something off the floor while wearing a short, short plaid skirt.
Rey is no lady. Straight back, straight legs, bend and snap butt in the air. In front of him. Right in front of him. Ben had been mid-drink of his coffee, silently wishing to himself it had been one of the Irish variety because that would have helped him a lot over the last half hour, when his hand goes slack at the sight of the bottom curve of her ass peeping out at him from under her hem. Coffee spills all over his pants, drawing out a curse from him and yet another round of tittering from the highly mature twenty-something girls he had been cursed with having to teach.
"Oops," Rey says, cuddling her notebook close to her half-unbuttoned chest. "Clumsy me."
Ben's head snaps to glare at her. Her cheeks are tinted, bringing out the hue of her freckles. He's thought about those freckles sometimes when he was alone.
That's it. He can't stand this anymore.
"Miss Kenobi, see me after class."
He barks the words maybe more gruffly than he intended, making not only Rey but half the remaining students pause to look at him with alarm.
Rey's fluster lasts only a second. Trouble making girl that she is, she probably loves the attention.
"I have another class right now, Professor. I wouldn't want to be late for it."
Brat. Brat. Did he mention that she was a brat?
"At the end of the last period, then. Come to my office, I need to talk to you."
Rey blinks, then beams at him with a pouty smile while the onlookers eat it up.
"Is this a personal request, Professor?" she asks.
Ben's eyes narrow. He wants to be on her side, he really does, but enough is enough.
"It's regarding your wardrobe, Miss Kenobi."
Rey looks down at herself. She can probably see straight down the gaping neckline of her blouse.
"My wardrobe, Professor? But I'm wearing the reg-"
"Your wardrobe and your enrollment status at our Institute, Miss Kenobi."
The onlookers stop tittering. You could hear a naughty student's pen drop with how quiet the room has suddenly become. Rey, to her credit, pales only slightly, but her rude expression falls.
Good. She knows that she's in serious trouble now. A man can only be pushed so far.
"At five, Miss Kenobi. And knock before you enter, this time."
This time, unlike last time when she'd just barged right in while he and the DICK's Director had been having a heated conversation regarding her enrollment.
Without waiting for whatever smart-assed reply he knew she was building to, Professor Ben snatches his documents off his desk and stomps out of the room. The menacing effect is no doubt somewhat ruined by how his stained pants cling in chafey ways, effecting his gait.
And that was how, in the span of half a single class period, his bad day had gotten a whole lot worse.
In the hours that followed until the end of the final period, Ben hadn't been able to stop thinking about her.
Not only was Rey, Miss Kenobi he should say, his student, but she was borderline delinquent. He'd put his neck out for her time and time again, arguing with the school board to keep her at the Disciplinary Institute of Corrective Knowledge even when she seemed hellbent on violating every last one of the facility's rules.
To make it worse, Ben sticking his neck out for her was getting him in trouble. The Director had taken notice of his more personal interest in her, but so far Ben had been able to play it off as just part of his sworn duty to help the wayward girls turn their lives around.
And now he's waiting for her to come to his office. That's another thing that would be heavily frowned up: seeing a troubled student in a one-on-one setting. The girls that get sent to a reform college like DICK have gotten more than one of his colleagues in trouble, and Ben sure as hell isn't going to be another career casualty to a Sophomore with too little clothes and even less common sense.
Sometimes, though, he wonders if it would be worth it. Throw his career and future away now that he's barely got it back on track for a chance to take her up on what she was so teasingly offering. Call her on her bluff and see if she's all talk.
Intriguing. Fun thoughts to pass the time on long nights. But no. A definite 'no, Benny Boy, she's off limits'.
Still, he takes the time to tidy his office as he waits. Put away his scribbles and drawings, put away the gossip mags he secretly likes to read. Tuck out of sight any proof that he's a living, real person and not just some emotionless face of authority.
That's what Miss Kenobi needs. She needs structure in her life. It's the only way she can turn things around, pull herself back from the cusp of expulsion like she's tight-lining over. He shouldn't care this much. That girl is nothing but trouble.
As if on cue, clearly triggered by too much sympathy for the devil herself, the Bane of Professor Ben's daily existence throws open the door to his office and stomps inside.
She didn't knock. Strike one. But she was on time, right down to the minute. Reverse strike one back to zero.
"Well, I'm here," she says testily. "I should be heading home now, but I'm here just like you'd ordered me to."
She doesn't mince her words, but they still sounds kinda cute with how her accent becomes stronger when she's angry.
Ben turns, about to gesture her to have a seat, when he freezes. She's wearing even less than before. Oh, it's the same shirt and skirt and shoes combo, but now the shirt is unbuttoned down to her stomach. Something gleams there at the bottom V before the white fabric overlaps itself.
Rey has a bellybutton piercing. Now that's really forbidden. At DICK, the students are banned from wearing any body modifications beyond earrings because 'they're here to study and reform, not put on a fashion show'. It could easily be the last coffin-nail in her case, right there sparkling before him.
Ben swallows, mesmerized by both the swath of flawless skin and the glittering treasure peeping out. Then he collects himself and decides that he hadn't see that. If he didn't see it, he wouldn't have to report it.
"Have a seat."
Rey flops down in the hard-backed shell in front of his desk, her arms and legs sprawling wide like a grouchy teenager. She's twenty-one years, for godssakes. Ben has to keep thinking about how young she can look sometimes. She's an adult, and it's damned well time that she start acting like one.
And he's just a breath away from reprimanding her posture when something shocks him into silence.
Miss Kenobi was wearing pink panties.
Ben had categorically not intended to ever know this. Her posture, her vulgar sprawl, had caused her microskirt to reveal far more than she intended. Because she hadn't intended that, right? She'd better not have, not if she had any sense of self preservation left.
They weren't just pink, they were neon pink. Almost glowing, even in the shadows cast by her thighs and the overhead fluorescents. Maybe a sort of fuchsia or hot, hot rose. Either way, she could have kept her legs closer together. She didn't, but she'd had that knowing look in her eye as she watches him.
And Ben was sure that fuchsia matched the color of his face when he dared look over at her again. Now she has one ankle crossed over the opposite knee, giving a front and center view of both hot pink and smooth tan. Parts of him begin to stir at that, making Ben highly grateful his desk was covering up his lower half and he could jam a pen tip into his leg to make it go away without anyone noticing.
"Professor?" Rey asks, that damned finger of hers going back between her lips.
She knows. She has to know. She's not even trying to hide it. Time to take back control.
"You need to start taking accountability for your actions, Miss Kenobi," he tells her cooly. "Your behavior in class is unacceptable, and I'm getting less and less inclined to keep looking the other way."
She shrugs. Her eyes roll and her lips pout and Ben feels an impulse that he buries as deeply as it can go into the back of his mind.
"I'm so sorry, professor. I know I was late. That was so naughty of me."
Her legs cross and uncross. The overhead lights mercifully cast a shadow.
Another impulse rolls through him and Ben wraps his arms around his chest to keep it at bay.
"Cut the bullshit, Miss Kenobi."
Her eyebrows raise at his words. It's the second time today she's prompted him to curse. At the institute, teachers are to lead by example and she's been goading him into setting a bad one.
"Bullshit?" she asks. "What bullshit? I told you I was sorry."
There's so much defiance in her eyes, but something else as well. A little crack in Rey's armor that shows she's nervous but just can't stop herself from digging that hole deeper. She's afraid. Afraid and doing everything her bratty little mind can think of to hide it from him.
This is going very poorly, isn't it?
Outside of his office voices rises and then fade. Someone could walk in at anytime, but they would knock first because everyone here other than the present delinquent has manners. They would knock and it would give Ben a few seconds to think of an excuse why he's breaking the rules and having a student alone in his office with him.
"Miss Kenobi… Rey, you know you're on thin ice here at our Institute, don't you?"
She shrugs again. Recrosses her legs and there it is, there's that little triangle of pink. Ben glances at it for a second too long and, when he looks up, Rey's blushing. She catches herself immediately, schooling her expression back from shy girl to raunchy tease.
"Rey..." he prompts.
"Yeah, I've heard. My caretaker talked me down for a good half hour about it last night. Are you going to do the same? Tell me how I'm one or two more nasty demerit points from being thrown out of here?"
He stares at her for a long moment. She stares right back.
"I'd rather not," he finally says.
She snorts, crossing her arms.
"You can fail me, Professor. I know how my grades are, and I can't get kicked out for being a bad student."
Ben raises an eyebrow. Rey fidgets in her seat under his stare.
"You could get kicked out for your wardrobe, Miss Kenobi," he tells her. "I'm seeing at least two violations right now."
"Oh?" She looks down at her lap. He doesn't follow her along for the ride. "Having a good look, are you? I'm wearing my cute little uniform like us good girls are supposed to, aren't I?"
Ben chooses his next words very precisely.
"Your blouse is open."
Rey tips her head to the side. She seems to think about her next move just as carefully as he had his.
"Oops again. Guess the button had popped open. Can't be blamed for an accident, can I?"
Her hands catch the sides of her open collar and slide down, daring his to watch. Ben holds her gaze with a frown. Rey's little nose curls up when her attempt fails, and she rebuttons her top with quick flicks of her fingers.
"There," she says, still stopping two buttons lower than she should have but as least covering her midsection back up. "Anything else?"
"And your skirt is too short."
Her eyes narrow. A looming migraine draws closer as a mental chime of 'round two' sounds off in Ben's head.
"It's not."
"It is."
"Well I'm tall. My legs are really long, or haven't you noticed?"
Ah, there it is. The first cold, stabbing pain as Ben's temper begins to fray.
"Stand up."
He opens one of his desk drawers and pulls out a ruler, waiting.
Rey blinks and Ben can't help but feel a twinge of victory at her shocked expression.
"You're not serious."
"Shall I take you into the front office and have them do it there? I can guarantee they won't be so inclined to round up the numbers in your favor."
Rey huffs indignantly. An open-mouthed, exhalation that draws his attention to her lips before he clears his throat. Truth be told, he's already basically decided to let this go, but he'd said before that he was going to call her bluffs. Miss Kenobi wants to walk around like that for him, she gets to pay the price. Or run away with her tail between her legs and a lesson in not being a cocktease well learned.
She seems to think about it, weighing her options. Ben lets her. She's so pretty when she's angry. Too damned, pretty. Too damned-
"Fine."
She stands up so abruptly the chair rattles from side to side. She stomps over to him, snatching the ruler right out of his hands.
"Go on then," he orders.
She hesitates. He rests his chin in his hand, feigning a bored expression. Ben can practically see her temper ruffling at that.
She turns halfway, giving him a profile side view. Ben realizes he's never seen her this close before, she's practically in his lap. His cock actually has the nerve to twitch hopefully and Ben has to press his lips together into a hard line to keep it from making a move.
"There," she says, holding the ruler flat along her hip. "How is it, Professor? Am I decent?"
Gods, this girl is impossible. She could have easily checked the measurement on her own, but then she would have been compliant. She would have actually been doing what was asked of her, and Ben is beginning to wonder if she's genuinely allergic to following the rules.
Fine. Be that way. Ben scoots his chair closer, leaning down to read the number where the hem of her skirt meets the ruler.
And it's his turn to blink.
Exactly on it. Within a quarter inch of the minimum. Long legs indeed.
And a picture of those legs wrapped around his waist flashes through his mind before he can stop himself. Naughty Miss Kenobi, Rey, his tormentor, on her back or maybe sitting on his face.
The mental image, so wrong that ti was almost right, has an immediate effect on him. His pants, changed after their last encounter together, suddenly have a lot less room in them than before.
He clear his throat, directly her attention up high and center.
"Perfect, Miss Kenobi."
The words come out raspier than he intended, the sudden tension in his body tightening his throat along with other places.
She seems a little taken aback by his tone, but if that keeps her eyes on his face and nowhere else that's perfect. He draws the ruler out of her hands, savoring the way she squirms as he holds it in front of her. His cock firms more insistently, growing past the point of half-mast.
"We're done, Rey You may go now."
Ben stands up, turning quickly away from her and circling the long way around his desk to keep his back to her. He goes to the door to his office, pretending to have those manners that she's never learned and open it for her, but really he's checking that the hallway outside is safe and clear.
Rey recovers from their little power play quickly, her cheeky smile glowing across her face again.
"Well I'm sure glad we had this conversation, Professor Ben. It's was nice to get to know you in private."
She throws a wiggle to her hips that just so happens to brush her front against him as she moves to leave. They both gasp in unison.
For a second time seems to completely stop. Rey, Miss Kenobi, his delinquent student tormentor, just felt his hard-on through his business casual slacks. Professional Ben just felt his delinquent student's body next to his hard-on. There's no turning back from this.
Ben clears his throat and steps back, gesturing to the open door.
"Have a nice evening, Miss Kenobi."
Her cheeks are beet red and her jaw has dropped. Her open mouth looks so pretty. And then she nearly runs out, her black shoes clicking through the hallway as she goes.
Ben slumps against the door, closing it behind him with the weight of his back. He's still hard. Insistently hard. Thank the gods this was his last class of the day because he's not sure how much more he could take.
When Professor Ben picks his porn that night, he clicks on whatever looks good. Too horny and pissed off to do anything but the path of least jerkdistance.
Schoolgirl porn? Sure, why not?
Good idea in theory, a bunch of pretty little things in short, short plaid skirts. Then it got weird. Then he tried another video and started to worry if his ISP was watching this.
Okay, schoolgirls are out. Nope nope nope.
Sexy Brunettes.
Huh, his favorite porn site has them color coordinated. How neat is that?
Except they weren't right either. Too different. Too short. Not evenly tanned. Not British. Not Rey.
With an angry huff Ben is about to shut his laptop's screen closed and go about his business the old fashioned way: two hands and one vivid imagination. Then he sees the "horny coed" section.
Bless whoever organized this porn site. Bless them forever.
Oh, and they even have a slim brunette with a golden tan and freckles. Maybe she's a little short. Legs don't quite go one for days and days. But she's got freckles. He likes those freckles very much.
Professor Ben's day may have been shot to high hell, but it looks like it's going to come to a beautiful finish. Funny how everything works out in the end.
Author's Note:
Is hard-on one or two words? Hard-on? Hard on? Hardon? Hmmmm…. Decisions, decisions.
OKAY, so I'm doing another Smutday Humpday piece! But it's one day too late! I know, I know. Better Thursday then never, right? This is for the anon on Tumblr who requested:
"For kinks, could you write a long ass teacher/student fic? We don't have a lot of those"
Well… I'm planning on 10 chapters and 50k words, does that count as long ass? I hope so and I really hope anon reads and enjoys this fic!3
Also I have a horrible, terrible, no going way of going *ridiculously* over my intended wordcounts. It's a genuine problem because it's slows me down and I'm trying to become a commercial author and speed is the name of the game so i've GOT to learn to write faster and shorter. It's also hellish trying to edit a 10-12k chapter before posting my goodness me… SO EVERYONE PLEASE= hold me accountable. If a chapter in this story is over 5k, slap some shit back into my head in the comments. 10 chapters, 50k. No more. Let's do this.
ps.
I'm open to more smutday prompts. I have this prompt and one for a sequel to my every dirty trick in the book series and one for a sequel to my fine tuning mini-series. That last one I'm super pumped for, I just love writing Miss Rey and Mr. Ben, so I'm going to turn it into it's own 10 chapter novel once this one is done.
BUT if anyone else has any prompts or 1-shots, feel free to send them to me at ava-dalo on tumblr. I may be slow but I'll definitely try to do them as soon as I can! Anon is fine but no noncon or underage/incest though, plz 3