Working the Pole Pt. 18

Included kinks:

Futanari, implied growth, mini-gts, seduction, public nudity, masturbation, excessive cum, hyper size, thighjobs, muscle, multiple sex scenes, MILF(s), cum inflation

All characters are entirely fictional and all above the age of 18!

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They had been arguing for minutes and April could only wait when her time would come. That must be how the characters in Gina's weird European flicks felt like moments before they walked up their last steps to the guillotine. A death sentence seemed less of a punishment than what awaited her though.

April wasn't bothered by the awfully uncomfortable bench she was forced to sit on, nor the occasionally flaring up pair of voices duking it out from behind Ms. Johnson's engraved mahogany door. And that was by no means a little feat, because she knew for a fact how thick the entrance to the principal's office was. No, the dread that made the towering futa cower in silent shivers was not one of just punishment, but disappointment. The daunting certainty she had disappointed those who supported her the most. Ms. Johnson certainly would be disappointed... and so would be her mom. April dared imagining the expression on their faces when they would stand before her and crammed it right back into the darkest corner of her mind, for the guilt was simply unbearable already.

That realisation didn't come easy though. She argued with herself all the way here on how she didn't deserve any of this. It wasn't her fault that Gina, Akari and Lizzy were all occupied for the last two hours. It wasn't her fault her bloated gut would have ripped her already obscenely stretched dress to pieces if she'd sucked herself off. It wasn't her fault regardless of what she put on, her growing figure would always be 'indecent' and 'unacceptable' like Ms. Dillinger vividly described April's attire in her rant. And it was absolutely not her fault that her needs befitted a woman of her size. That's what April told herself until she sat down and waited ... and let reality sink in.

Ms. Dillinger's enraged voice never fully died down after she walked in the head of institute's office, quite the opposite. Some would surely feel pride in eliciting such an explosive reaction from such a woman like her. A weird hybrid of professor McGonagall from Harry Potter and Granny from Looney tunes -- in behaviour as well as appearance. No, nobody in all of her many decades spanning career had ever managed to rattle her up this badly. As much of an achievement it was, as much it was damning.

The teacher and the principal must have found some common ground eventually, because for a few minutes not even a whisper made it past to April's ears and then the luxurious door knob eventually turned. The brunette futa wanted to shrivel even smaller and wished the floor would open up and just swallow her for good. Her teacher, as small and frail she might be looking with her grey, pinned up hair and comically thick glasses, surely wore the same furious, open disdain on her face, that made the futa forget her belt in the bathroom, among other things. It could have been entirely possibly she would have forgotten her cock back there if it wasn't literally attached to the rest of her, so horrifying was Ms. Dillinger's presence in that moment.

April didn't dare to meet that gaze again and kept her head low by continuously leaning further forward until she appeared as small and insignificant as any 7'6" woman could possibly be. She still felt those unrelenting eyes silently judge her and hammered the teacher's words back into April's consciousness. 'Expulsion' and 'insolence' were some of the more measured ones.

"Thank you for your report. I will take care of the matter myself from here on," Principal Johnson said in a tone that shook April once more.

Even she sounded like she was filled with the same cold-burning wrath as the woman standing before April.

"You will be informed about my decision shortly," Principal Johnson said from beyond her office door and audibly pushed the heavy door further open and stepped forward. "That will be all, Ms. Dillinger."

April pretended she did neither hear or see them and kept staring at her old teacher's antiquated shoes, desperate to see them turn around and simply walk away. After what felt like an eternity her prayers were answered until only their echo filled the halfway before they vanished completely. But they were quickly replaced by others. Elegant and expensive looking black ones giving into ebony, much younger skin.

"Ms. McLoughlin. Would you please get into my office," Ms. Johnson said as brutally professional as humanly possible, void of anger as well as compassion.

"Yes, Ms. Johnson," April muttered and despite towering over the principal felt like an antelope walking into a lion's den.

April had to bend down much lower as she was used to in order to set foot onto a more than familiar terrain. As a matter of fact, rarely any student in the entire institute visited the principal's office more frequently than her, and unlike most others she wasn't summoned here due to misbehaviour. Well, until today that was.

She knew the story behind every framed picture of the once young, hugely promising black girl smashing records left, right and centre. And why the row of joyful memorabilia abruptly ended and made place for degrees and accomplishments of a woman who would find herself in the position of headmaster of the most prestigious girl's only institute in the entire state. Even that once young girl's eyes brimming with nothing but pride and joy felt like they were piercing into her... judging her for what she did.

"Please take a seat," Ms. Johnson said, her heels thundering over the tropical wood that graced the floor as well as the simply massive, engraved desk that looked like it belonged to some high-ranking politician at the very least.

"Thank you," April muttered, her eyes still glued to the floor, which like almost anything else in the room, sported the eagle that became the trademark of the institute as she grabbed the sturdiest chair she could find.

Ms. Johnson let the nagging silence creep into every corner for a solid minute and patiently leaned back in the red leather of her throne-like armchair.

"You will have to talk to me eventually, April," she said softly and thoughtfully rested one hand on her chin while tapping her armchair with the other, like she always did when she was waiting for something.

April took a deep breath and forced herself to stare back into those dark, questioning eyes and noticed that they were not gleaming with the same fury as Ms. Dillinger's before. Ms. Johnson, a woman a few years further down the road than April's mom, always radiated an aura of class and excellence. Excellence in everything really. From her meticulously chosen, incredibly slick and expensive custom-made suits to her behaviour, she expected nothing but perfection. From herself and her students. Only very few knew her beyond that trait. April belonged to those who were allowed a peak behind the curtain for sure.

"Ms. Dillinger said everything that needs to be said," April muttered and again silence took hold of the office.

"Every story can be told from multiple perspectives. I want to hear yours," Ms. Johnson said eventually and leaned forward, her arms resting on her desk and her soft nod being all the convincing April needed.

"Everything Ms. Dillinger said... is correct. I'm just..." April concluded after giving the gist of what happened and almost held back her justification when she stared into a face that couldn't have been any more stoic. "I'm aware that's not an excuse for what I've done, but ... it's been a lot going on... with me. And things I can't really control."

"You are referring to your growth spurt. Am I correct?"

"Yes, mostly."

Ms. Johnson nodded and pondered on her answer for a few moments before her striking facial features would give into any real response. Again, she was not filled with anger, which was quite the relief.

"As you know, I am well informed about your ... ongoing development. That includes your last appointment in Indianapolis and the diagnosis from Dr. Zimmermann," Ms. Johnson paused and sighed, her sharp cheek bones seeming even slimmer before a soft smile came over her full lips. "I thought Sarah exaggerated when she told me that incidents like that might occur, but I was not aware she talked about days not a matter of weeks."

The futa shifted anxiously in her padded seat and frowned.

"You talked with my mom... about such things too?"

"Indeed, and it was proven justified. Afterall, she is the most experienced when it comes to dealing with Hermaphrodites out of all of us. Excluding you of course."

Ms. Johnson visibly relaxed with another hearty sigh and sank deeper into her seat, both her arms now comfortably resting on the desk.

"From the day we first talked about this matter we all knew this would not be easy. Especially for you, April. Maybe I should have taken more precautions into consideration."

April could barely comprehend what she just heard. She had braced herself for angry shouts and the worst reprimanding she would ever get, but listening to Ms. Johnson taking even partial blame of today was something she didn't plan for ... and against better judgment had to be put right.

The futa shook her head and shifted forward, the seat below her creaking in agony.

"No, Ms. Johnson. Today is entirely on me. You built a separate bathroom just for me. You instructed all the teachers and the staff about me. You did everything in your power, you always did. But today, I ... failed you. I'm sorry. It won't happen again," April said with determination in her voice.

"Accountability. I like that. But you already knew that, did you not April?" the ebony woman said with the same soft voice that was reserved to those who knew the woman behind her role and titles.

"Perhaps," April grinned herself.

The former athlete's face lightened up, but her grin rarely grew wider than that familiar smirk. April's and her mom's annual visits at Christmas were one of the few exceptions that sprang to mind.

"Come," the principal said and got up. "I want to show you something."

April's anxious tensing subsided now that she was certain this would no longer be a discussion between principal and student, but on a much more personal level.

They walked up the rows of pictures, where trophies and medals still reigned supreme in between childhood memories.

"I know you have seen all this before, but I think today put some of those old lectures a bit more into perspective," the elegant woman said and led April further down the row until they stood at the beginning of the young girl's journey.

She laughed adorably into the camera, her braces shining as bright as the first medal she ever won and one of the few times that a second price was ever put into a picture frame.

"Here we are," Ms. Johnson said and smirked knowingly. "Where it all began. Do you know why this picture might be the most important out of all?"

"Because it was your first competition?"

"No. Because this was a turning point. You must know I was never supposed to even participate. My parents did not cherish the idea of me jumping and sweating around all day. So, we struck a deal. I can join the track and field classes if I got into the top three on my first try. Otherwise, I would have probably become a mediocre musician instead."

The futa looked down at Ms. Johnson with a questioning gaze.

"I don't understand. They didn't like you to compete, but wanted you to win as well?"

That was the question Ms. Johnson waited for. Her grin grew so wide April thought Santa had already snuck down some chimneys.

"They wanted to see if I truly mean it. And time proved them right. It felt insurmountable at the time. I was smaller than most back in the day, weaker. All the odds were stacked against me," the principal said, her voice getting softer with every word. "But all odds can be levelled by discipline, by drive and determination. That was the lesson they taught me the day when I showed them this medal, even if it was only silver. Nothing is impossible, as long as you are determined and fully committed to make it possible. No matter the odds. That holds true with anything in life, April."

Ms. Johnson looked up, her slender face rising higher and higher to meet the towering futa's gaze above her.

"Nothing is impossible. And nobody can tell you otherwise. Not me, not Ms. Dillinger, not even your body. No matter how daunting your current growth spurt might seem, you will learn to control it."

April couldn't help herself but feel inspired and amused at the same time. One could tell Ms. Johnson meant every word she said and that the total confidence in April wasn't just meant to be shallow encouragement. But she forgot one eventuality, that wouldn't make sense to any woman who didn't experience what April was experiencing day in day out: What if she only regretted getting caught and not the act of sticking her dick through some wall into the greedy fingers of a dozen girls itself?

"I understand what you are telling me, but I'm afraid ... it's not that easy," April began and took a deep breath. "I'm... not sure what direction I'm supposed to go down. My mom must have mentioned our discussion after my last check-up?"

"She did."

"Then you know that I'm ... trying to come to terms with who I'll become... and what that means for me. I'm not sure if I'm supposed to even fight it."

The ebony woman looked calmly at April, as stern as only she could be and then she frowned.

"I am not telling you to act against your own nature, April. I am just saying that you can avoid trouble like today if you take control over your ..."

"Urges," April interjected and nodded. "I see where you're coming from. I... will try my best that you won't have to deal with ... such inconveniences again."

"Make that a promise and I am satisfied," Ms. Johnson said with a warm smirk that soon blossomed on April's face as well.

"Deal."

"That I wanted to hear," the principal said and rested a hand softly on April's much stronger arm and turned around after a friendly clap. "I will have to still to punish you somehow. Or Ms. Dillinger will not talk a word with me until retirement."

"Oh god, absolutely," April chuckled and followed Ms. Johnson behind her luxurious desk. "What do you want me do."

"I am not sure yet, but I will have to find a use for you. I suggest you come into my office after classes the next few days and we figure something out. But first of all, you will be cleaning up that ... according to Ms. Dillinger rather impressive mess you made."

"I doubt she called it 'impressive'" April laughed and for the first time ever saw Ms. Johnson laugh outside her own four walls.

She had a rather beautiful laugh, one that was almost forgotten the second she put on those amazing suits of hers. Those beautiful, powerful looking... suits.

How could such a woman go single for even a day? She belonged into the same club as her mother, April thought. The 'inexplicably-constantly-single club of gorgeous women'. Admittedly, she needed to think of a better name. But her point still stood. A kind, self-made woman with money to burn and on top a former gymnast, who even after her injury was clearly still in peak condition.

April remembered the time well, when photos of Ms. Johnson circulated around the institute. Back from the days when she still went to the nearby gyms and rocked a body every single one of her students would ogle at with nothing but envy. One might wonder if that was still the case...

"Not now," the futa told herself and stomped the growing curiosity back into the dust the second it dared to resurface. Where it wouldn't stay for long. It never did.

"Is something wrong?" Ms. Johnson asked.

"I- no, why?" April answered hastily.

"You looked absent for a second."

"I'm ... just a bit worried. That's all."

"About Ms. Dillinger? I will take care of her, you have my word," Ms. Johnson said warmly, motherly almost.

"And my mom? Could... you maybe forget to mention what happened today the next time you two speak?"

"Mention what?" the gorgeous woman said with a voice smooth as silk. "I will forget about today, if you keep your part of our bargain."

"I will... and thank you... Clarissa."

"You are welcome, April."

Both their voices sank lower and lower until they were almost reduced to a whisper. An almost... sensual whisper. The sort of whisper that made April remember that her cock was still flapping freely between her legs, with nothing to keep it at bay.

"I think I should go... back to my class. Not that I miss even more of it," April turned around, eager to reach for the door, now that she noticed the rising temperature inside the room.

"After cleaning duty, April," Clarissa insisted, before frowning and asking with an uncharacteristically wavering voice. "And after that, could you do me a favour?"

"Yeah?" the futa looked back at her principal and followed the projection of the long fingers pointing directly at her.

April looked down and immediately realised what Clarissa meant. The many smaller rips emerging as she pushed herself into her bathroom wall and grinded every last bit of pleasure out of her curves had taken a toll on her dress. And her desperate flight from the crime scene when Ms. Dillinger went in must have done the rest. Her dress was in shambles, with her tattered bra clearly peeking through the blue fabric on at least half a dozen places... and so was her thong.

"I am aware our uniforms are ill-suited for someone ... as blessed as you, April. But could you please take care of the matter," Clarissa said without moving a single inch. She almost appeared to be frozen by the sight of April's endowments ... at almost full display.

April had always been very much aware if someone took notice of her body, but over the last few days, when the eyes of the entire campus and all her friends rested on her at all times, she fully developed a sixth sense of when it came to checking her out. Not just taking a quick glimpse out of curiosity, but with intent... and desire. And she could have sworn she saw the principal's eyes lock on a second too long on her freed bulge traveling down unabated between her thighs.

"I ... will. As a matter of fact, I planned on paying my tailor a visit after school anyway," April said as a sensitive shiver travelled through her system and let her know that the fun, she had at the gloryhole didn't sate her needs for too long.

"Good. I can only assume how tiresome these many visits must be. But it's for the better."

April had already reached for the door knob and again noticed the soft tingle she always felt when someone looked at her. She could literally sense that Clarissa was looking at her perfect booty. Her perfectly huge, round... and firm buns, almost tearing through her dress.

"No, April. Don't get yourself into even more trouble," April shouted at herself in an attempt to quelch her awakening desire, but the draw of someone like Clarissa, the head of the institute after all could not be denied.

She turned around, yet to decide if her intuition was just toying with her mere minutes after she got off the hook scot-free ... or if she read Clarissa's signals right. And she had gotten really good at picking up the smallest of hints lately. There was only one way to tell for sure though.

"Well. Actually, I'm looking forward to it. It's a good feeling to... know you are dressed well. It makes one feel... good you know? But I'm sure someone as well dressed as you are more than aware of that," April said with a smirk, her ample curves exaggerated even further in the 45° angle she deliberately chose.