Gym with Sophia

"Sophia Hess!" Mr. Evans called out. "Get over here!"

It was the beginning of the class warm up for P.E., and everyone was jogging laps around the gym. Sophia ... didn't strut, not exactly. Emma's walk was more of a strut. Sophia prowled. She eye both of us as she approached.

"What?" she spat.

"You're being punished for bullying," the gym teacher said. "Starting now."

"What?" She glared at Mr. Evans, then at me. "What do you mean?"

"You're a bully," I explained, letting a smile spread across my lips. "And you know what we do to bullies now, don't you?"

She did. Everyone did, even if they didn't know how they knew it. "Ah, hell no!"

I grinned. Normally I'd be afraid of how far I could push this, but I knew how far I could push it, exactly as far as I wanted to. "Remember that time you stole my clothes while I was in the shower and I had to spend the rest of the school day in my sweaty gym clothes?"

She raised an eyebrow. "That's your punishment? I have to spend the day in my gym clothes?" She shook her head. "God you're pathetic."

"No," I said. "No, your punishment is just the opposite. You're not allowed to wear gym clothes at all."

She frowned. "O-okay. I'll go get changed."

"No," I said before she could leave. "You're going to take those clothes off right here. Right now."

Her eyes widened. "What? No. No way. Not a chance."

"You have to," Mr. Evans said, butting in. "You don't have a choice. It's the rules."

And he was right. The Rulebook didn't say, "or get detention," or, "or get expelled," or even, "or die." It just said that the bullies' punishments were up to me, and the Rulebook would not be disobeyed.

Sophia ground her teeth, glaring daggers with me ... and pulled her shirt off her head, revealing her athletic figure. She was more muscular than most girls in our school and had remarkably defined abs. Then she stepped out of her shoes and slid her shorts down her toned legs, leaving her in a black sports bra and matching panties. Nothing all that exciting, to be honest, not compared to what she might go swimming in, but she was wearing so much less than what she had chosen to.

She had stripped half naked because of me.

I had made her take her clothes off.

And there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it.

That sense of power, of control ... it wasn't a **** I had the chance to build up much of a tolerance for. And I liked it.

The rest of the class liked it too. "Hey, looking good, Sophia!" one of the boys called out as he jogged by.

Sophia glared at me and trembled with rage. Impotent rage, which was the best kind for spectators like me.

"One last thing," I said, stepping forward. "Don't move." I ran my hand up her hip, across her toned stomach, then up to her sports bra, lifting it up and exposing one of her breasts. Her eyes widened and flickered over to Mr. Evans, the only other person with a decent view, but she didn't move to stop me. Neither of them did. Smiling, I squeezed her nipple between my finger and my thumb, pinched it, and began to twist.

She winced and gritted her teeth, but she was powerless to stop me. I could have gone so much further, but I stopped after I was sure it sunk in that I was in charge, I was the one in control. When I was done, I pulled her bra back into place and smiled.

"Well, that's enough for now," I said. "Now start running." I gave her a solid smack on her ass to send her off. This was going to be a good day—for me, at least, if not for anyone else—and the day was just getting started.