Go harass Naomi

Siccing Gingerbitch on Naomi felt good, and it reminded you that with this power, you don't have to be bullied anymore. The way you've used your powers so far, it actually seems like you're the bully now.

Naomi has some harassment in her future, from Gingerbitch, but tonight, that poor slut is probably at home, showering, crying, and fisting herself like she chose to. You don't want to wait for all that. You'd like to get started right away with **** on Naomi, so you set off for the cafeteria, where you know she'll be having dinner.

You grab a tray of bland pizza and mixed veggies and look for a seat. Ideally, it would be a seat near Naomi, but not so near that she notices you. You spot her silky, dark hair and big tits across the room. You take a seat a few tables away, and try not to stare while you munch your food and figure out your next move.

Her table is filled with the usual cronies. There's Jessi, the platinum blonde stick-figure with fake? tits, who is usually the first to laugh at Naomi's jokes. There's Hina, an exchange student who seems to skip every class but still manages to pass and stay enrolled. There's Raylene, whose tank top is cut differently from Naomi's, and shows off a lot more. Ray-ray looks drunk, as usual.

Then another girl walks up to the table with her dinner tray. You can't hear what they're saying, but Naomi laughs at her, and Hina slaps the bottom of her tray, splashing milk out of her cup and all over her face. The girl runs away and you mutter "fucking bitches" under your breath.

"What'd you say?" A girl at your table heard you.

"Oh? Uh..." you scratch your neck. "Trucker's itches? On my neck?"

"That's not a thing. But if you were talking about Naomi 'n company over there, I wouldn't hold it against you." You glance back at the bully, surrounded by her posse, like the wicked queen of campus.

"Yeah, I mighta been." You check out the girl at your table, a cutie with wavy auburn hair and soft brown eyes, in a light blue polo. So you introduce yourself, and she says her name is Celeste.

You swap stories about how much Naomi's fucked with you over the years. Besides specifics like the 'trash-locker' incident or the Ice Cream Social prank, Naomi's been calling you names and treating you like shit as a casual pastime for as long as you can remember.

Celeste has stories of her own too. "At Jessi's slumber party in high school, Naomi stole my pants while I was sleeping, and she wouldn't let the other girls say anything. I had to go downstairs and ask Naomi's dad for help, in my panties. Ugh. In the halls and after class, anywhere a teach wasn't around, she'd call me No-chest Celeste." You try not to look at her boobs. You nail it, looking her steadily in the eyes. "Ugh, and Naomi, star athlete and straight A student, gets big downy pillow tits on top of it all." She stares off at nothing for a second and you just keep looking her in the eye. "Sorry, that got weird. I just wish Naomi knew what a hard time she was giving everyone."

"Yeah, me too."

"I'd like to see her get a taste of her own medicine."

"Yeah, me too." Your dick hardens up in your pants as you brainstorm ways to destroy Naomi, but you're curious, what would a cutie like Celeste do with her? Celeste is obviously deeply bothered by her experiences with Naomi, but the wistful face she wears while she dreams up her **** fantasy looks timid to a guy who spent the day testing his power by brutally abusing a bunch of strangers.

Celeste sighs and says, "Naomi's an all-star. Like, untouchable." She can't imagine herself taking on Naomi. Before your power, you couldn't either. You would tell her about the power, but it doesn't seem safe, her being a stranger, and in this crowded cafeteria.

"She's not untouchable, actually." You blurt it out, even as your plan is forming. You didn't want to ask a question, but your first instinct after that was to simply lie. "I actually have some dirt, though I wasn't sure if I should release it." Telling a lie has always felt improper, but now that you know the power your words can have, lying fills you with a cold, lonely terror.

But lying isn't magical, so nothing special happens, except that she believes you, and then she says, "no way! Whaddaya got?"

She leans across the table conspiratorially. Now it's time for the magical powers. You whisper the question to her, "would you rather I show you some photos now, of Naomi in a compromising situation, or borrow my DSLR and follow her tonight to see for yourself." Each choice should manifest something scandalous. One is immediate, and the other might net you a free camera.

You smile at Celeste as she takes a few long seconds to answer. She hasn't said anything yet, but you know they never take more than a few seconds to answer.