Owen VS the Vice Principal (Patreon)

The latest chapter in the saga of "Owen VS the Senior Class", although technically not a member of the Senior class... oh well.

As always, much love and thanks to all of you, my generous patrons!

  

CHAPTER 3 – SIC SEMPER TYRRANIS

Monday morning. Social media was in uproar through the weekend over the schhol’s R-rated presentation of Peter Pan. Owen had avoided all of it by, well, not being very social, instead relaxing with his nose in some X-Men comics. 

Professor X training his students, honing their powers and their morals got Owen thinking about what he was doing with his powers. Was he reaching his potential? Was he using his powers for all the right reasons?

Lost in thought, Owen blended into the throngs marching into school. A deft hand grabbed him by the collar and snatched him from the crowd.

Blake pinned him to the wall in a blind corner of the crowded hallway. She was wearing a burgundy flared skirt and a tight black turtleneck that showed just a hint of her firm tummy.

“Vice Principal Bitcherson’s called an emergency assembly” Blake sang.

“Hwuh…?” Owen was distracted by how good her boobs looked in that turtleneck.

“Over the play, dummy. And the halftime show. Everyone is saying the school is cursed or haunted.” Blake giggled. “Come on. This is the perfect chance to get her…”

Vice Principal Emilia Dickerson’s career began humbly enough as a junior high science teacher. An avid Crossfit enthusiast, she had always had a lithe, fit body, with muscular legs and small but perky breasts she often left braless. But kettle bells and lunges could not stop Mother Nature, and when Vice Principal Dickerson hit her 30s, her hips and ass slowly swelled to Lopezian proportions.

Even then, rumors flew about the hot but stern young teacher. That she had posed for Playboy. Or was it Penthouse? Or that she had appeared in one of those “Girls Gone Wild” videos.

Perhaps the rumors nurtured her icy attitude. Perhaps the other way around. Regardless, she soon discovered she had far better talents at disciplining students than educating them, and quickly found herself the Vice Principal over 1200 students.

Enforcing the dress code was Vice Principal Dickerson’s most notorious policy, and how she ran afoul of Blake. The VP would stalk the hallways, measuring the lengths of questionable skirts. Dickerson’s iron rule sent Blake and her distracting skirts to detention again and again.

As Blake dragged Owen by his collar, he could hear Vice Principal Dickerson on the PA, confirming the rumor; “All Seniors report IMMEDIATELY to the gymnasium! Repeat; all Seniors report IMMEDIATELY to the gymnasium!”

Owen found himself shoved through a door into a dark, unfamiliar hallway. After a long moment he puzzled out why it was so unfamiliar;

“T-this is the Girls’ Locker Room!” Owen squeaked.

“Shut up, dumbass. No one’s in here.” Blake cracked open the door, revealing the gym. Students slowly filled the bleachers. Not far from the door was Vice Principal Dickerson, facing the crowd from a podium.

“There’s the fatass herself. Show her what a real dress code violation looks like. Blake dragged Owen to the narrow crack in the doorway, and lurked behind him. She was a good 6 inches taller than him, so her breasts rubbed distractingly against Owen’s shoulders.

Owen braced himself and focused on Dickerson. She was looking good, very good. Short bouncy hairdo and large-framed glasses that belied her venomous attitude.  A trim, short-sleeved blouse that showed off her toned arms and small but pert breasts. Business slacks that displayed her thick thighs and round, juicy ass. No bra or panty lines visible- if she was wearing underwear, it was very discrete.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please be seated!” the Vice Principal barked into her microphone. “I wish to address some unfortunate events around our campus in the past few weeks…”

Now, Owen could have just ripped to clothes to pieces in front of everyone. And judging by how Blake was anxiously grinding against him, that’s exactly what she wanted to see. But Owen was still tripping on all those classic X-Men feels. 

First off, unlike Gwendolyn or Kira, Vice Principal Dickerson was a notorious tyrant, and deserved a dressing down, literally. Justice was being served. So this was a heroic thing he was doing… sorta.

Secondly, Owen needed to challenge his superpower, master his gift. Raw power was easy. Subtlety and nuance were hard. He reached out with his mind, felt the material of her blouse… her pants. Millions of threads, layered and interwoven; he slowly curled them in his mind, twisted them into tighter and tighter corkscrews…

The form-fitting material slowly flexed tightly over the woman’s body, squeezing her thighs and cupping her butt cheeks. The Vice Principal persisted into her diatribe, but squirmed subtly, no doubt wondering if she needed to cut out the half & half in her morning coffee.

Creases formed and flattened across the Vice Principal’s tummy and crotch. A narrow ribbon bare skin appeared between her blouse and slacks. She tugged at it nervously, suddenly aware her bellybutton was visible; a dress code violation.

The blouse squeezed her tiny tits, making the nipples stiffen. The top button popped open, exposing a deep V of pale, blushing flesh.

Blake gripped his shoulders, squeezing her tits into the back of his head. “What are you doing? What the hell are you waiting for?!”

Owen’s focus wavered— the seat of the Vice Principal’s slack split open! A 3 inch rip winking open, showing a vertical smile of bare ass crack.

“Yes! MORE!” Blake demanded, her hot breath steaming in his ear.

Regrouping, Owen tightened the fabric further, pulling tight as a second skin on the Vice Principal. The crotch of her slacks rode up into a tawdry camel toe. Unseen her audience, the slacks peeled open over her generous ass, exposing a palm-sized swath of nude skin, with no sign of panties.

The Vice Principal stiffened, quickly becoming a prisoner in her own shrinking clothes. She dared to reach a hand back, eyes going wide as fingertips brushed over her own exposed ass. The exertion was too much- another blouse burst loose, unveiling a skimpy black lace bra.

The crowd was eerily quiet; she had their complete attention. The once-haughty VP shrank, as if she could hide herself behind the podium

Vice Principals Dicker’s knees buckled, wobbling on her pumps. Her slacks now squeezed out a soft muffin top of skin, exposed by her contracting blouse. 

The split up her ass yawned open, from the waistband to deep within her thighs. Two swelling ass cheeks blossomed out. The students to the extreme right and left could see; whispers flew.

Dickerson clenched her thighs to keep her pussy lips from slipping out in from of several hundred horny, vindictive teenagers. Her face was flushing; her speech faltered…

“She’s going to run for it” Blake opined. “Don’t let her get away!”

Owen flicked her speech from the podium. The document fluttered to the floor.

The minor inconvenience seemed to refocus Dickerson’s concentration, while distracting her from the true peril. She bent over to retrieve her speech…

The last three buttons on her blouse exploded off, tapping across the hardwood. Small, pointed breasts, nipples hard and stabbing at the teensy black bra. 

With a nonchalant tug, Owen popped open her bra, exposing a pair of eager pink nipples. 

Vice Principal Dickerson scrambled to close the blouse, but the seams tore loose. The expensive garment fell to ribbons in her trembling hands. Gob-smacked, she stumbled--

The slacks BURST right up each hip. No panties; just a jiggling round ass and freshly-shaved pink pussy. Tatters of fabric spilled to her ankles.

Her breasts and ass were pale, in contrast to the woman’s cultivated tan. The outlines of a bikini told a simple story; not even the tanning bed was allowed to see what was not exposed to hundreds of leering eyes.

She gave up defending her tits to defend her pussy, clawing and tugging and the remains of her slacks. 

Suddenly nude and humiliated in front of the gawking rabble she sought to dominate, Dickerson’s mind raced; she could run out, down the length of the gym, her naked body on display for hundreds of students and at least as many cell phones.

OR she could retreat to the Girls’ Locker Room. The Vice Principal made a jiggling dash for the door, her pumps tangled in the remains of her slacks.

Cheers, whoops and applause ROARED from the crowd. The Ghost had struck again!

“Oh Shit!” Blake slammed the door shut, bracing her weight against it. Owen had other plans; he turned to run like hell!

Blake pinned him against the door. “No! Help me! Hold the door!”

Owen’s X-Men fantasy had devolved into mindless panic. Even Blake’s firm breasts buffeting his face couldn’t call him back to reality.

He dropped to the floor, crawling between Blake’s legs. He was so terrified he couldn’t even enjoy the sensation of Blake’s panty-covered crotch slide over his head.

As Owen vanished deeper into the Girls’ Locker Room, bound for the fire exit, Dickerson hit the door. Blake steeled herself, but she was no match for a Crossfit enthusiast soaked in adrenaline.

Dickerson burst in, nude and bewildered. For a long, heavy moment, the bewildered administrator studied her least favorite student.

Blake gave the older woman a long up-and-down. “I really like your outfit today, Ms. Dickerson.”