The New Principal Ch. 19

Kimberly approved the fashion show for that Saturday night. I got a bit worried about having a gathering like this amid all the drama, but in the end, I didn't stand in the way. Showing that everything was running as usual hopefully would put the students at ease at least, and cancelling it would have any real advantages. And I completely agreed with Kimberly. If we were going to say we were changing the school for the better, it was important that the students see that we were letting them have some measure of control over their world here.

The timing seemed to work out perfectly. It was the week before finals, and the students really got enthused about going to the show for a break in studying. It was also going to be the first time that the theater was going to be open for a show. We were limiting the audience to students, faculty and staff, but even then, it became clear that it was going to be standing room only.

On the day of the show, I turned up a bit early to make sure everything was going smoothly. When I walked into the theater, it seemed to be utter chaos, but at a second glance, it was organized and focused chaos. Members of the Dance Club, who were not only serving as the models for the fashion show, but also organizing opening and closing musical routines, were frantically running all over with last minute costume and makeup crises.

The setting and stage managing had been handed over to the Dionysian Club. I recognized Cynthia with her spikey hair over in the wings. She had a binder in her hands and was shouting orders at a group of women in all black, so that would make her stage manager, I suppose. She looked all-business and in control.

They had decorated the stage to match the original design of the theater. The old speakeasy mood, was carried onto the stage with a nice art deco feel. The stage was thrust out into the audience, and there was no main curtain. There were only a couple movable raised areas on the stage, and everything was draped in rich red fabrics. There was a runway lined with bare bulbs that pushed out even further into the audience, presumably for the fashion show. And it looked like the lighting system we installed was working nicely too. In the audience area, all the tables had little red oil lamps. It looked incredible, like something out of a Gatsby-inspired dream.

It was clear they didn't need me, but I took advantage of my position to go back to the box office, buy my ticket and take a seat before the crowd was let in.

I sat back and watched as the chaos slowly shifted backstage. And then not too long later, the doors were opened and the crowd came in.

Among those first through the door were Kimberly and Veronica, and they moved quickly to my table which was up right near the stage, right next to the catwalk.

"Welcome, ladies! Join me. I've got the best seat in the house! Where's Jennifer?"

Veronica smirked at me. "What, you think we're all attached at the hip?"

"Well, I have seen you that way." I tried to keep my voice down. Luckily the noise of people coming in and getting seated grew around us.

"Ha!" Kimberly laughed despite herself as she sat down.

"Ok, fair point." Veronica rolled her eyes. "I'm not actually sure where she is. Kimberly?"

"Not sure. She said she wasn't going to be around this weekend, but wouldn't say why or where. She does that quite a bit."

Veronica glanced to the back of the house.

"Oh! They've opened the bar too? Anyone want anything to drink?"

She started to stand up, but someone came up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder.

"No, no! Veronica, please. I'm headed there myself. Let me get you all something."

I looked over her shoulder to see a man who seemed familiar, but I couldn't place him.

Kimberly's voice slipped back into her cold business tone.

"There's no need, Mr. Grant. We can take care of it."

"I won't hear of it. Let's see, a red for Veronica, a white for Kimberly, and... whiskey for the Principal?"

"I'm not drinking tonight. Tea would be fine, thank you, Mr. Grant. Very kind of you."

Both Kimberly and Veronica gave me side eye as he walked off to the bar.

"What the hell was that?" Veronica asked Kimberly.

"I don't understand. I've never seen him do anything for another person before. Why now?"

I smiled. "Maybe he's trying to butter up the boss?"

Neither woman seemed convinced.

Mr. Grant was the campus nurse and advisor of the Swimming Club, at least in name. I didn't have his full story, but I already knew that he was not popular among the students, who saw him as lazy and unreliable. Kimberly tried unsuccessfully to hide her disdain for the man, and it seemed Veronica agreed.

But, true to his word, Mr. Grant was back in a flash with two wine glasses and a tall tumbler full to the brim of iced tea. He passed them out to us.

"I am sorry, Principal Lee, they only had iced. I hope that is alright."

"It's fine, and call me Ben. Oh, and before you go, I would like to talk a little about the Swimming Club if you have a moment. Why don't you take a seat?"

I could almost feel both women glaring at me as if to kill.

"I'm sorry. I'm afraid I really shouldn't abandon my date." He smiled a bit awkwardly before sidling off through the crowded audience back toward the bar again.

"He only got drinks for us?" I looked to the women.

"He got a date?" Veronica lifted an eyebrow, then her wine glass in a toast.

Kimberly snorted a chuckle, but raised her glass.

I rolled my eyes and looked to Veronica. "You raised first, what is your toast?"

Veronica thought for a moment.

"To new friends," a nod to me, "and old friends newly discovered," a nod to Kimberly. "You have both made me incredibly..." her voice deepened. "Happy... in many ways. Here's to new adventures and more happiness to everyone at Bright Hall."

"Cheers!" Kimberly and I both clinked her glass with good cheer.

The iced tea was an odd blend I wasn't familiar with. A black tea, but strangely a touch bitter.

Right then the house lights dimmed and for a moment the entire room was only lit by the little red oil lamps.

Then a voice came over the speakers.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you for joining us for the first production of the Bright Hall Academy Theater. We are very proud to provide a very brief program for you this evening as we test these beautiful facilities. First will be a dance routine in the spirit of our theater from the Dance Club. Then, we will first have a fashion show to show off the proposed new uniform designs based on final projects from Ms. William's art class. The Bright Hall Academy phone app will allow you to register your vote for your favorite design. Principal Lee has promised that he will take our votes into account as he chooses what we will all be wearing this fall!"

I grimaced a bit at the way she phrased that, but raised my hand in acknowledgement of the cheers from the crowd.

"Following a short intermission, the Bright Hall Dance Club will be performing a musical dance number, 'All That Jazz.' Also, please remember that proceeds from the box office and the bar tonight will all go to all Club activities, so please spend freely. And now please welcome the Bright Hall Dance Club!"

The hall broke into genuinely enthusiastic applause.

A spotlight shot out in the darkness. The flash of light set a silhouette of three figures in sharp contrast against the back wall. The rest of the lights came up slowly to reveal three women standing in front of a chorus line. The three had that jazz-age short hair, and they were all wearing flapper dresses, long thin flimsy things. One was twirling a long string of beads with a leg perched up on a platform. Another was sitting with her back to the audience, looking suggestively over her shoulder. And the third was bent at the waist, leaning on the sitting girl as if whispering in her ear.

Then the music started, and they all went through a fairly impressive routine. They were clearly not professionals. The girls in the chorus line were especially prone to slipups and little missteps. But joy and enthusiasm were evident in the very last of them. And the three main dancers were quite good. They had even done their homework, doing a very nice Charleston and rounding things off with a Can-Can, which again was more enthusiastic than precise, but a delight in any case.

The dance went on for a while, and really got the crowd worked up. Each dancer got a solo dance and the dancers clearly had friends in the audience who went wild as they kicked and spun. There were a few bits when the dancers paired up for some swing routines.

I am so impressed, not only with the performance, but also with eh response of the crowd. At my table, we were applauding the whole way through. Veronica and Kimberly were already working on their second glasses. Everything was going wonderfully.

The dancers spread out to either side, opening an aisle in the middle for the fashion show.

The voice came back:

"Now please open your app to begin. Touch the red button to show appreciation, and at the end of the show you'll vote for your favorites."

I glanced to Veronica, who had been in charge of putting our app together. I mouthed, "You?" She smiled coyly with an arched eyebrow.

"Watch what happens when you press that red button."

The first model came through, caught in the spotlight, walking down the runway. She was wearing what basically looked like the uniform we had already, but tailored better. She was a very attractive girl, but the uniform didn't help her much. The heavy green jacket came in a bit at the waist, but not enough to be flattering. It looked like the only major change had been to the neckerchief, which was simpler, but no more attractive than the old version. The standard skirt hung lifelessly to the very tips of her sensible black flats.

As she walked down the runway, there was a bank of LEDs toward the back of the stage that were lighting up in little spikes occasionally. Veronica shot a glance to me and nodded toward my phone. I pressed the red button marked "Like," and saw a line of LED lights shoot up to the sky.

A murmur moved through the crowd as people started figuring it out and more lights shot upward, more for the fun of it than out of appreciation for the uniform.

By that time the next model was coming down the runway. She was a striking, truly statuesque girl. She could give Veronica a run for her money in height and legs, but without her stunning, elfin face. She also didn't know how to work her body like Veronica did. The uniform she wore, as indicated by the streaks of LEDs, was much more stylish. The jacket was cut shorter, and it was a darker green. The skirt was pleated and had a subtle tartan pattern. And was not so long, so that it showed off her calves in black tights. It was all very classy and chic.

The next model, well, her uniform was borderline pornographic. I heard gasps from around the audience and I nearly did a spit take with my iced tea, which still tasted a bit off. Was there alcohol in it?

The uniform was like a mad wet-dream combining a hentai version of a Japanese schoolgirl uniform with our school colors. My eyes were first drawn to her skirt, which was so scandalously short that, since we in the audience were lower than the runway, we could easily see up to her panties. To the designer's credit, the panties were in the school green, although in a shiny smooth fabric. Silk?

There was no jacket to speak of, and in place of the neckerchief was a wide tight green choker with some kind of cameo on it. Did it have the school crest on it? The blouse, white with green piping, was very flimsy, and, well, it covered her breasts, barely. The neckline dipped low enough so we could all tell she couldn't be wearing any normal bra, and it was so short that we were all treated to a view of her very well-toned belly.

I didn't recognize the model, but she was clearly enjoying her turn. She had done her dirty blonde hair up into two long pony tails that draped over her shoulders to emphasize that schoolgirl pet look. She walked with an exaggerated sway of the hips, and when she came to the end of the runway, she spun tight enough so that the skirt flew up and let everyone know she was aware how short it was. She turned back over her shoulder and winked.

I had been so focused on her that I hadn't heard the reaction from the audience. I first heard the cheers. Almost all of the voices sounded female. I took a glance around to see that the tables filled with girls were cheering the loudest, clapping and even whistling catcalls. That must have been what the model had been enjoying and reacting to. Back at my table, I saw Veronica hooting loudly and raising her wine glass to the stage. Kimberly was staring wide-eyed at the girl while blindly tapping her phone as rapidly as she could.

As the model turned away from us, flipping her skirt up one more time to wild roars of laughing approval, I saw that the LED spikes were all nearly pegged to the top, showing how much the room 'liked' the uniform.

The next model, clearly a bit daunted to follow that, came out with a bit of a stumble, but she found her footing and pushed through.

There were a few relatively mainstream uniforms, but the rest seemed almost like Halloween costumes: the cheerleader, the sailor, the slightly less naughty schoolgirl, and even one that seemed like a space-age jumpsuit from an old 70s B-movie.

The only other notable one was one that made Veronica sit up straight despite her third or fourth glass of wine. The jacket was leather, brought in at the waist and very long. Under that was a dark green vest that was pulled together with cords almost like a corset. All that pushed the models breasts up into a very thin cotton blouse cut fairly low for display. The skirt was pencil thin, but slit up the side nearly to her hip, showing a lovely expanse of leg that was covered in sheer dark stockings, with garters no less. All this was lifted up by dangerously high heeled shiny black shoes. That uniform probably got fewer outright cheers, but plenty of LED 'likes' and audible 'oohs' whenever the model shifted her weight and stared menacingly out into the audience.

After they all came down one by one, they came out together and everyone voted their top three. I decided not to vote since I would be casting the final vote that mattered.

"Principal Lee!"

A figure appeared at the table wearing all black stage crew clothes.

"Deborah, what's going on? Is everything okay?"

"We've got an issue backstage. Can you come help?"

"What is it? I'm not really that good with theater stuff."

"Well, it's not technical, it's... well, you're the right person for it."

"Okay, fine. I'll see what I can do." I turned to Veronica and Kimberly to excuse myself, but they were leaning on each other, clearly feeling no pain, cheering on the dancers with the rest of the audience as the stage was being cleared for intermission.

I finally got their attention and told them I was going backstage, but they clearly didn't mind being left alone together.

I swigged the rest of my iced tea before following Deborah. It really wasn't that good, and it was thicker at the bottom. Maybe some kind of flavored syrup or something?

The house lights went up and I trailed Deborah backstage. As soon as we passed through the curtained-off wings, the atmosphere changed. The audience was a bit wild and raucous, but backstage, it was all movement and purposeful action under the iron fist of Cynthia Xu.

Actually, she seemed to be a benevolent dictator, rushing from clump to clump of dancers, checking cues and adjusting costumes. Those costumes looked a bit skimpier than the previous number, but I didn't have a chance to enjoy the view as Deborah was dragging me through the crowd quickly.

Spinning though the groups of students, I started to feel a little uncomfortable. It was almost like I was tipsy, but all I had was that iced tea. It was Veronica and Kimberly who were taking down those tall wine glasses. The ground wobbled a little bit and I accidentally bumped into a group of dancers. I reached out a hand to stabilize myself and looked over to apologize.

My hand landed on a bare shoulder. I looked over to see a tall Latina student in a white lacy bra and panty set. She had the most incredible skin, so smooth, and taut. That couldn't be her costume could it? Her long dark brown hair was up in a topknot that spilled back down over her back. The girls around her were all wearing, or rather not wearing, about the same. A couple of them were stretching in the most wonderfully provocative ways.

"I'm so sorry, I'm such a klutz!" I tried to smile and look harmless, but then I caught her gaze.

I didn't even recognize her, but I slid immediately into her mind. Carrie. Her name was Carrie, and I could see her mind clearly. And it wasn't just the sexual side of her, either. I had never been able to see so much of anyone's mind before. I was overwhelmed with information about her. Her mind was focused on going over her routine for the show. I saw and felt her memories of rehearsal.

I could sense the way she wanted her legs to move, the feel of her moving through space, and her arms swinging around her. She was most worried about a maneuver near the end of the show where another girl -- Inez? -- lifted her up onto the shoulders of the others and she spread her legs wide, basically doing the splits toward the audience. The music cues ran though her mind: up two three four, left hop two, step three for, down one, jump! 'And all that jazz' splits! She was nervous because of a bit of change to her costume. She rehearsed in compression shorts, but now she was only wearing panties, and they were white, and also thin and a bit sheer.

Then I felt her react to my gaze. I wasn't even pushing anything at her, but her mind was thinking about how she wasn't sure if she had shaved well enough, and her mind shifted slightly. I saw her lust growing, and she started focusing on all the people that would be watching her. Would she get wet like she did in the last rehearsal? And she remembered the feeling of her friend's hands on her. Then they were all touching her, holding her up. It was like they were showing her off to the audience. But in rehearsal, there wasn't anyone there. Now there were going to be dozens, maybe a hundred or more people staring right at her. She had a lot of friends in the audience. What would they see? Would her panties be soaked through?

A thrill ran up her spine. Oh god, we could both already feel her arousal. I swear I wasn't pushing her. I was trying to pull back, but I could feel her temperature rise and it was like there was a tingling flowing through her. She became hyper aware to the way her nipples were rubbing against the cups of her slinky bra...

Deborah tugged my arm and broke me out of the connection. It had to have only been a fraction of a second, but I could see Carrie face utterly transformed, flushed red and dazed with her sudden shock of arousal. She even moaned as I broke free.

She recovered enough to mumble a "no problem?" But as Deborah pulled me further away, I saw her nearly melt back into the arms of her team. Maybe that was Inez who was holding her tightly. Whoever she was, she was smiling so tenderly at her now.

Then we were at a door. Ah, it was the door to the prop room.

I still hadn't really gotten completely back into my senses yet, and that dizziness came back with a weight on the back of my neck.

"Here we are. There's someone in there who needs your help, Principal Lee."

There was a huge playful smirk on Deborah's face, but it barely registered in my distracted mind.

"Deborah, I'm not sure I'm feeling alright. Who needs my help?"