Return to school

The drive to school with Lily was a blur. I couldn't shake off the feeling of excitement and control, of finally getting what I felt I deserved.

Lily, still a bit dazed from the realization that I owned our car, hadn't said a word to me the entire drive. To be honest, that was pretty normal. Usually it was because we ignored each other as best we could, but this time it was different. This time, I had stunned her. It was a nice feeling. A feeling I could get used to. Besides, I couldn't tell what I liked more - the occasional furrow of her brow as she processed her new reality or the furrow of her perky cleavage.

As I drove us to school, I stole glances of her at every chance I got. Even in her stunned silence, she was ridiculously sexy. If I am being honest, her confusion really did it for me, making her seem more approachable, less untouchable, and generally more attractive. Seeing her like this made me feel like my grander plan might actually work, my doubts receding slightly as Lily took one step away from just being my pretty stepsister and one step toward being my compliant slut. A small step, but a step nonetheless.

As we approached the school, I pulled into the principal's ex-parking spot, my name still clearly marking me as as the new owner. The sight of it sent a thrill through me, a visual confirmation of the power I wielded. It felt like a claim not just on the spot, but on everything around me.

The feeling of lust and control was intoxicating. I glanced over at Lily, wondering how much further I could push this. How much further I could push her. How much more I could bend my new reality to my desires.

As I put the car in park, it struck me how easily everyone seemed to accept this new reality. Lily didn't even bat an eye as we pulled in, her focus elsewhere.

As she started to get out of the car, I pretended to fiddle with something in the glove compartment, stealing the chance to watch her. The way she moved was a combination of athletic grace and casual nonchalance. Her jeans, which fit her like a glove, flexed and adjusted to her movements, highlighting her legs and hips. As she bent over to retrieve her bag from the floor, the fabric of her jeans stretched taut over her ass, accentuating its shape and the smooth curve of her hips. The sight was momentarily captivating, a perfect blend of casual allure and unintentional seduction.

After she straightened up, I finally asked, "So, when do you need a ride back home?"

She paused, her hand on the car door, and gave me a hesitant look. "Um, probably after cheer practice," she replied, clearly not used to arranging her ride schedule with me. "Is that fine?"

A small smile formed on my lips as I pretended to ponder her question. After a brief pause, I replied with a playful mimicry of her earlier tone, "Hmm, I'll see if that works for me. You may need to walk back if you take too long." My voice carried a hint of teasing, echoing her words from breakfast. Lily's expression flickered with a mix of annoyance as she rolled her eyes with a grudging acceptance. She knew I wouldn't make her wait. I may be all-powerful but I wasn't an asshole.

As we left the car and walked our separate ways, I couldn't help but feel a sense of triumph. In just a short span of time, I'd managed to claim ownership over some pretty significant things. Lily's ride, which, yeah, wasn't all that impressive since it was just passed down from Karen, who got it from my dad. But still, it was a start. Then there was the principal's parking spot, and, of course, Vanessa's hot pink sports car. That last one still brought a smirk to my face when I thought about it. I should check in on Veronica...

As I headed to my first period class, my mind was buzzing with optimism. The pen in my pocket felt heavier, like it was loaded with potential. I couldn't help but think about all the possibilities, the ways I could use it to reshape my world. It was like having a cheat code for life, and I was just starting to understand how to play the game.

This newfound confidence subtly influenced my time at school. I walked the halls with a bit more swagger, a slight grin tugging at the corners of my mouth. Nobody else knew what was going on, of course. To them, I was just Marcus, the same guy I'd always been. But I felt different, like I had a secret that set me apart, put me on another level.

In class, I found myself spacing out more, thinking about what I would do with my army of hot babes. Who could blame me? When I had world-changing power, school was just too small. I didn't care about it - it was nothing to me, like a bacterium! I travelled in worlds my classmates couldn't even imagine. My teachers couldn't conceive of what I was capable of. I was so far beyond everyone here I was like a god in human clothing! Lighting bolts shot from my fingertips!

Ok, maybe I got carried away there in my fantasy. I wasn't exactly a wise-cracking sleazy lawyer from Albuquerque with ties to the Mexican cartel and the biggest meth empire in fictional America. And if I was being honest with myself, I actually did kind of enjoy learning things in school. But it was so damn hard to focus on anything but the possibility of endless ass. Taking a deep breath, I recentered myself.

So what next?

While I toyed with the idea of going big, like marking up houses in the community to become some kind of real estate kingpin, I wasn't sure how far the pen's power would stretch. Maybe it had limits. So, instead of going all out, I figured I'd start small, tackle the minor annoyances of high school life. That way, even if the pen ran out, my life would still be better.

First on the list: my locker. It was in the worst possible location, far from most of my classes and always jammed. Maybe I could find a better one and make it mine. I just needed to pick the right spot and leave my mark.

Then there was homework. What if I could get the smartest kids in class to do it for me? Not the most ethical move, sure, but the idea had a certain appeal. A few strategic pen strokes on their backpacks or notebooks, and I could be sitting pretty with top grades and zero effort.

But the real prize, the one that really got me excited, was the idea of getting the best seats at the cheerleading practices and games. Those spots were always hogged by the jocks, the guys who thought they owned the school. How sweet it would be to stroll up to the bleachers, write my name on the prime viewing spots, and kick back to enjoy the view of the cheerleaders – including Lily – without anyone able to say a word against it. Show those jocks who the real owner of the school was.

Yeah, starting small seemed like the way to go. It was a way to test the limits of the pen, to see just how much I could get away with before going for the big stuff.

The thought of having my own special seat in the bleachers sent a thrill of anticipation through me. It would be like my own little domain within the school, a place where I could sit back and enjoy the cheerleading routines as if they were performed just for me. Sure, it wouldn't be private, with the rest of the crowd around, but in my mind, it would almost feel like it.

I could picture it now: sitting there, the best view in the house, watching as the cheerleaders, including Lily, went through their routines. The jumps, the flips, the spirited cheers - it would all be right there in front of me. And yeah, maybe I'd catch those occasional flashes of underwear as they kicked and spun, a secret little thrill that only the front-row seats could offer.

In this fantasy, they were like performers on my personal stage, each move and cheer a part of a show put on just for my enjoyment. It was a heady thought, the idea of them serving me in their way, unwittingly playing into my hands just by doing what they did best.

It was more than just the physical appeal, too. It was the power of it, the control. Being able to claim that spot, to make it known that it was mine, would be a statement, a way of marking my territory in a place where I'd always just been another face in the crowd. And that was a prospect that was just as exciting as the view it would afford.

"We'll get there soon," I muttered under my breath, thinking about the bleacher fantasy. But first things first – it was time to sort out my locker situation.

I wanted a locker in a more strategic location, somewhere that would not only be convenient but also give me a chance to be near some of the sexiest girls in school. It wasn't just about reducing the time I spent hustling through the halls between classes; it was also about upping my social game, being seen in the right place at the right time.

As I walked down the hallway, eyeing the lockers, I considered the best spot. I needed somewhere central, easy to access, and, of course, in a prime social zone. Maybe near the cheerleaders' locker area or close to where the popular crowd hung out.

Finding the right locker wouldn't be hard with the pen in my pocket. A quick scribble, and it would be mine. No more jammed locker in the middle of nowhere. It was a small change in the grand scheme of things, but it was a start, a way to begin reshaping my high school experience into something more favorable.

With a new sense of purpose, I started to look for the perfect locker, ready to make my mark.