Act the part

As soon as her eyes made contact with the principal marching across the lot, Ramona felt her posture shift. No longer was she hunched over the steering wheel, trying to escape. She found herself perched patiently on the edge of her seat, her legs spread wide and inviting, raising her skirt to reveal more of her tanned legs. Her hands gripped each knee, and her back arched erotically, presenting her heavy tits proudly in her knotted t shirt. Her bare tummy, all bare skin really, glowed from a slight sheen of sweat, she felt her breathing slow and deepen, giving an inviting movement to her breasts. Her felt her head shake playfully, and a manicured hand tustled her hair, adding a sexy bedhead look to her already scandalous pose. She felt her wedge sandals lift her heels, flexing her athletic legs. Wait...heels, skirt, and tied t shirt? That's NOT the outfit she threw on.

In fact, this new look was even more inappropriate than her changed cheerleader uniform. The knot of her tied t shirt sat right below her lifted tits, tickling her belly button and showing off her entire midriff, and her body started to shimmy slightly in anticipation of a private audience. This new top came with hidden, but ample, chest support, as Ramona's boobs looked they had grown a cup size. She could see a shelf of tanned tit flesh out of the corner of her eye without moving her head. Not that she could, since her body refused to break eye contact with the man approaching. She felt her tongue dart out and lick her lips in preparation; she shuddered to think about what for. Did she taste cotton candy on her lips? Below her waist, the shorts she thought she had put on had become a pleated skirt, it's hem would fall an inch or so above the knees, if it hadn't been currently riding much higher up her tanned thighs. Her flip flops were now strappy, wedged sandals with about 4 inches of heel. This wasn't one of her last punishment options. As if hearing her thoughts, a GL notification dinged from the passenger seat. Thankfully, her body allowed her to pick up the phone, but she held it more daintily than she planned, noticing the new pink polish on her (longer?) fingernails. She tapped lightly on the screen, posing like she was taking the perfect selfie.

"Ah ah ah! Follow the rules or face repercussions. Here's a tip: if you don't want to dress like a whore, win a round." Ramona's avatar shook her finger disapprovingly, bending forward at the waist and showing off her new virtual cleavage in the same outfit Ramona was trapped in. The avatar seemed to be posing much more provocatively than before, with faceless avatars leering behind her. Ramona was shocked by the bluntness of this pervy app, but it was just another thing into which she'd have to look.

She noticed the principal slow his approach when he realized how she was presenting herself. when he rounded to her window, her hands lowered the it and quickly adjusted Ramona's tits, causing her to blush furiously, but her face was frozen in a pleasing smile.

"Is something wrong, Mr. Thompson?" Ramona asked innocently, her traitorous body fluttering her long eyelashes. She didn't remember putting on mascara, but there were other things to worry about, like how one hand was slowly twirling a lock of hair, which now had an added inch and a lighter shade,and the other tugged at the knot of her top, deepening Ramona's v neck and the shade of her blushing.

"Can you explain what just happened in there, Ms. Baker?" Asked Principal Thompson, a fit younger man who was the secret crush of many students and some staff. He was used to casual flirtation at work, but the display Ramona was currently putting on threw him for a loop.

"Umm..." Ramona thought quickly, feeling a manicured finger enter her mouth and biting it lightly in flirty thought. That cotton candy taste turned out to be lip gloss, something she knew she hadn't applied. Makeup must have been part of her penalty now. As she ad-libbed her excuse, she found herself gesturing more emphatically than usual, sending her curvy body into erotic jiggles "Well, I was having a wardrobe malfunction in the locker room," So far so true, "and then I started feeling really weird, so I was trying to skip the pep rally." Her **** pouty face hid the panic in her eyes, looking more like a guilty puppy than panicked puppet. "And suddenly," her sad face quickly beamed, "I left like dancing." Her body shrugged happily.

Anyone paying attention would have noticed Ramona's tone didn't match her actions, but you can't blame Mr. Thompson for only hearing the words. "Look, Ramona," sighed the principal " I know it's your senior year, and you just wanna get out of here. But you can't start slacking now that the end was so close. You don't have your diploma yet." He warned.

"Oh no!" Ramona peeped, a dainty hand rising to cover the cute 'O' her mouth was making, and the other cradled her chest, filling her manicured hand with soft flesh. She could feel her fingers slowly trace a nipple, bringing it into view through the fabric. Her pert ass slid back on the seat, keeping her chest thrust out and her legs still wide. Mr. Thompson would have gotten a nice view had he dared. "Am I in trouble?" She asked sincerely, but her body implied much more, clasping her hand togethers between her legs, squeezing and raising her slutty tits for his view. a dainty finger slowly rose and traced in and around her cleavage. She needed to get out of here fast, but couldn't risk saying something her body might act on.

Mr. Thompson wiped his brow, eager to avoid a situation as much as Ramona. "I'll let this slide if you return to school on Monday with some sort of doctor's note. Otherwise, we'll have to discuss some other punishment. Now get home, and feel better."

"Oh, thank you, Sir." She gushed, her body giddily bouncing and shimmying while Mr. Thompson's eyes were still on her. "I'll go home right away." her sexy hands finally let her turn the key. As the car came to life, Ramona's last radio station blasted from the speakers: a trashy, hip hop station that, on any other day, she would be fine with. But before Ramona had a chance to react, the next song started. Her eyes grew in shock as she felt her heeled shoes plant on the floor and her body roll forward, sitting her up like a professional lapdancer. Her look of shock translated into a look of arousal while her body slowly started to grind her bare ass against the seat, leather squeaking erotically as the tempo picked up and the bass throbbed more. Her hands slid up her lap, teasingly pulling on the hem of her skirt as they rose to her chest, cupping and mashing her funbags for the awestruck principal.

As the beat dropped, Ramona started to feel her cheeks flexing and relaxing to the rhythm. She was twerking like an expert, and her skirt had risen enough in the back to see each cheek rise and fall to the beat. In sexual sync, her waist and chest undulated with a fierce, horny energy.

"Uhh," Ramona panted, feeling more sweat slowly trace down her body as she lewdly rolled to the music. "I... really like this song." Her face was a wide grin, despite her true emotions. She knew this song was a long one, and prayed her principal would look away. She couldn't stop her controlled face from making all manner of flirty expressions, biting her lip and rolling her eyes back, her tongue darting out lewdly, her embarrassed blushing looking like hot desire.

"Well then," coughed Mr. Thompson, "get home safe. Don't drive distracted." With a slap of the car's roof, he adjusted his growing boner and quickly returned to the school, blushing furiously.

Ramona sighed with relief, free from the control of one punishment, which sadly only released her face from its **** sexy looks, her body still compelled to dance to this horny music. Lyrics about sluts grinding fit the scenario far too well. Ramona used to like this song. As it finally wound down, Ramona caught her breath, tensing for the moment she had control again. As soon as the DJ started introducing another song, her hands flew to the controls and turned off the radio, thankful to be back in as full control as she could be. She threw her car into drive and peeled out of the parking lot. She didn't have far to go, she just prayed nothing interfered this time.

As if on cue, the telltale ping of the GL app shocked Ramona into a quick state of panic. Only a few blocks left, should she just try to get home?