Pantsing and Stripping Forums

I usually got to my classes early, not wanting to linger in the hallway. Today was no exception, and I got to Mrs. Sanchez's class several minutes before the bell rang. But for the first time ever, someone had gotten their first.

Darth Mara sat at the desk next to mine, waiting for me, wearing a black sundress. Sundresses usually looked, well, sunny, but she managed to make it look elegant.

I set my books down. "What are you doing here?"

"Learning," she said, looking ahead. "This is a school, isn't it?"

I gritted my teeth. "What do you want?"

"Well, that could fill several books," she replied. "For starters, I'd like to ask you a few questions."

"Like what?"

"For one, what's it like being a Jedi? What is it like knowing that you might have everything you ever wanted, but the only one holding you back is yourself?"

"Well, if you're going to put it that way," I said. "Maybe this is what I've always wanted."

"Really," she said, but I could tell by her tone she didn't believe me. "Next question: are you an exhibitionist, Luke?"

I blinked. "What? No, of course not."

"Are you sure about that?" she said, turning to look at me. "Because I noticed it getting bigger the longer people looked at it. It's a shame you left so soon. You would have enjoyed yourself had you stayed."

Somehow hearing her comment on my dick was both more embarrassing and less insulting than what I had heard others say that morning. "If that's the case, then where'd the 'Little Willy' rumor get started?" I was certain Mara had started it herself. It seemed like the sort of thing she would do.

She shrugged. "Like I said, you left early."

"So are you flirting with me or just tormenting me?" I asked. "Because I honestly can't tell."

She rolled her eyes. "Please, if I were flirting with you, you wouldn't be able to breathe."

"What?"

"Because I'd be Force choking you."

I blinked. "What?"

"Oh, don't play innocent. Erotic asphyxiation is far more common than most people admit. I haven't met anyone I couldn't talk into enjoying it."

I was about to ask her if there was anything a Sith of her abilities *couldn't* talk someone into, but then Sara walked into the room. She had sent me some nude selfies the week before, and not only was she prettier than Mara, she was also infinitely less terrifying.

"Hey!" Sara said, approaching her. "That's my se—" Mara gave her a look. It wasn't an angry look or a commanding one, just a glance her way. "Sorry!" she said, and she backed away and went out the door, realizing that she'd rather skip English class that day and hyperventilate in the bathroom for the next forty-five minutes.

"You know, she has a point," I said. "That is her seat."

Mara sighed and raised her hand. "Mrs. Sanchez?" she asked.

"Yes?"

"Is it okay if I sit here for the rest of the class period."

"If you like," the teacher said.

"Thank you. And just to keep Luke from giving me a hard time about every little thing I do, would you mind stripping naked and throwing your clothes out the window?"

"What?" I said.

"I'd be happy to," Sanchez replied. She pulled her arms out of her suit jacket in a way that pushed her chest out far more than seemed necessary and set it on her desk. She unbuttoned her white blouse letting her black bra come into view and undid her skirt, letting it fall to her ankles. She reached behind her back to unhook her bra, then sat on her desk to pull her panties down her long, tan legs.

In just a moment she was standing in the front of the room in nothing but her high heeled shoes, which I guessed didn't count, because she gathered up the rest of her clothes and strutted to the window. My desk was right next to that window, so when she bent forward to open it, she practically had to stick her butt in my face. She walked back to her desk, completely nude, as though nothing was out of the ordinary.

No one else seemed to notice anything, either. They came in one by one before the bell rang and sat down, never giving the naked teacher a second look. It was just like at the pool party when I had stripped Mara; no one noticed but us.

Or rather, I noticed. I stared, open mouthed and heart racing as one of my wet dreams played itself out before my eyes. Mara, though, instead was watching me. This was my erotic fantasy, but it was her … game.

"What are you playing at?" I asked.

"Oh, me? I'm just giving a dog a bone."

I followed her gaze and adjusted my jeans awkwardly. "I'm serious."

"Then let's just say I'm fulfilling my side of our arrangement. You continue to amuse me, and I won't destroy you."

"That wasn't the deal! You just wanted me to stay out of your way."

"I'm altering the deal," she said. "Pray I don't alter it any further."

Okay, so here's a question for everyone. How do you argue with a pretty girl who can seamlessly quote Star Wars at you? To be completely honest, I haven't figured it out myself.

"But there is no deal! I haven't agreed to anything! In fact, here's the one thing I will agree to: I don't know how and I don't know when, but Darth Mara, I swear by the Force that I will find a way to take you down!"

The bell rang before she could respond, and Mrs. Sanchez, still naked, stood up and began class. She asked us if we had done the required reading and if we had any questions over the material, and no one showed any indication that they noticed she was naked.

"It is such a quiet thing, to fall," Mara whispered, watching Sanchez, exposed and oblivious, move across the room. "But far more terrible is to admit it."

That was all the warning I had before the screams. The realization struck everyone, teacher and student, in that moment. Sanchez hunched over, clutching her naked body and trying to protect it from view. The students let out cries of "She's naked! She's naked!" and some of the sharper ones reached for their phones to preserve the memory.

Sanchez's eyes darted toward the open window, remembering what had happened to her clothes, and she ran to it. I realized that she might try to jump, so I yelled out, "Don't do it! It could kill you!"

I realize now that it wouldn't have. We were only two stories up so she wouldn't have died, but she still might have broken a leg, and being naked and in pain was not a pleasant way to get picked up by an ambulance. Still, her fear of heights collided with her fear of public nudity, and she backed away from the window and ran out the door.

The rest of the class broke into mayhem, some struggling to come to terms with what had happened, others laughing at what they had seen, and still others crowding around the door to try to get a picture of the teachers naked backside as she ran down the hall.

"Well," Mara said, standing up. "It looks like class got out early today. I hope the teacher's replacement is that much fun, but I doubt it." With that, she walked out of the room.

I don't know what happened to Mrs. Sanchez after that. I heard rumors, but those had her doing everything from masturbating in the library to sucking off the football team. I'm pretty sure she just ran outside, grabbed her things, and drove home, but even that was bad enough. My entire English class had seen her strip naked for no readily apparent reason, and not even Mrs. Sanchez herself could explain why.

Well, I could, and Darth Mara could, but if I could convince the school board that my teacher was being mind controlled by a Sith, then I could also convince them of something a lot more believable.

And I wasn't sure if I could do even that. I wanted to help her, but I didn't even know where to begin. I couldn't silence the twenty something eyewitnesses, and between the principle, the super intendant, concerned parents, and for all I knew the police, there was no telling how many people I would have to convince to look the other way.

All I could do was make sure Mara didn't hurt anyone else. Fortunately, she had just pointed out for me one of her enemies.

"Hey, Sara," I said, after I found her. "I need to talk to you."

I took her to the library where we'd have some peace and privacy, convinced the librarian not to bother us, and sat Sara down between the sci-fi section and the biographies.

"So," I said, finally. "What do you know about Mara Jade Anderson?"

Sara's eyes grew wide and her face turned white. "Mara who? I don't know what you're talking about. I don't know any Mara. And oh wow, would you look at the time? I'm late for, um, lunch."

"Let me rephrase that," I said, waving my hand at her. "You want to tell me about Mara Jade Anderson."

She sat back down. "Alright," she said. "I do want to tell you. It all started a long time ago, in a middle school far, far away."


In the deepest pits of hell, demons tell their children horror stories about junior high schools, and establishments like Korriban Middle School were the reason why. The students were at a stage in their lives where they had lost the innocence of their infancy, but had not yet gained the maturity of age. They were eager to find out just what they could do to each other, and what could be done to them.

For some, the answers to that question disappointed them. For others, it terrified them.

Back then, Mara was no one. She was smarter than the average seventh grader, but that never defined her. She was well behaved and had good enough grades to become a teacher's pet, and a good relationship with authority might have helped her later on, but instead she kept to herself and her books.

She did what was expected of her, never drawing attention to herself or even raising her hand. She would sometimes go the entire day sitting, listening, and reading and not say a single word until after she got home. That should have made her forgettable, but Sara and her friends on Korriban's cheer team could chatter with each other about nothing at all, and someone who carried that much silence with her came off as creepy.

It also made her a target. Mara had no friends to stand up for her, and when put up against the hive mind of the Korriban cheer team, she couldn't stand up for herself.

When they hid her glasses when she was in the shower, all she could do was accept that she had lost them and hope her parents weren't too upset with her forgetfulness.

When they stole her clothes, all she could do was hope they left her enough to keep her covered without too much embarrassment.

When they shoved her out of the locker room naked and locked the door, all she could do was hide, and when they tried to "help" by hiding her in the dumpster, all she could do was hope to take a shower when she got home before her parents noticed the smell.

If it seemed like Mara was singled out, she wasn't. Sara and her friends had a revolving list of victims, people who couldn't fight back, and because nothing bad had ever happened to them, they assumed that nothing ever would.

Then the cheerleaders experienced a string of bad luck that no one could explain. They would trip on days they were wearing skirts, exposing their panties. They would get water splashed on them when they wore white shirts, making them transparent. Still, there was nothing that connected these accidents to the creepy, quiet girl named Mara.

Until she wanted to. One Saturday morning, Sara woke up to her mother in a foul mood, yelling at her to come downstairs. She came down groggily, wearing nothing but the tee shirt and panties that she had gone to bed in, when she found Mara sitting in her living room sipping tea.

The tea was odd. They had fine china in the cupboard, but that was as much for decoration as the paintings on the wall, not for use. Still, Mara sat there in a black dress, sipping tea that Sara's mother must have made for her like she owned the place, and Sara's mother did nothing to discourage that.

"What's going on?" Sara asked.

"I was hoping you could tell me," her mother said. "Is it true that you and your friends stole this poor girl's clothes and threw her in the school dumpster?"

Sara tried to remember, but it was all a game to her, and she couldn't remember whom she had humiliated any more than she could remember which properties she had owned the last time she played Monopoly. Still, regardless of the truth, there was one right answer to give.

"No!" she said. "I've never done anything like that!"

It was her word against a relative stranger. There was no question whose side her mother would take.

"Do *not* lie to me, young lady!" her mother said. "I raised you better than that!"

Or at least, Sara assumed there would be no question. "But I didn't do anything!" Mara didn't have any proof, did she? She couldn't have.

Her mother frowned. "I gave you a chance to come clean, but if you want to make this difficult, then that's your fault."

Mara spoke up for the first time. "You should give her a spanking."

Sara stared at her. Did she really think that she could come here, accuse her of something that she may or may not have done, and then dispense punishments?

"I should give her a spanking," her mother agreed.

Oh. Well, maybe she could.

Her mother grabbed her and threw her over her knee. "If you're going to behave like a little brat, you're going to get punished like one." THWAT! Her hand came down, and it left her butt stinging.

The last time Sara had been spanked, she had been five years old, and now she was a teenager. "Ow! Please, Mom, not with her watching!" The Separation of Peers and Parents. It was practically in the Bill of Rights.

THWAT! "If you're going to humiliate her at school, then it's only fair that she sees your punishment." THWAT!

"Ow! Okay, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to! It was my friends' idea, I just went along with it!" She was going to murder that girl. Come Monday morning, she was going to make Mara wish she had never been born.

Mara sipped her tea daintily. "You know, this really should be a bare bottom spanking."

"What?" Sara said.

"Quite right." Her mother grabbed her panties and yanked them down to her knees.

"And would you mind terribly if I filmed it?" Mara asked.

"WHAT?"

"That seems reasonable."

"Thank you."

"No!"

THWAT! When her mother's hand met her bare skin, it stung even more. Almost as much as the shame of knowing that she was naked from the waist down, being spanked on camera.

THWAT! THWAT! THWAT!

She thought about all the people Mara might show the video too, or what she might blackmail Sara into doing to keep it secret, and she started to cry. Then the spankings stopped, and Sara thought that her mother had finished.

"Oh, my dear girl," she said. "You're out of tea. Would you like some more?"

"No thank you," Mara said. "But might I have a go at it?"

"Oh, absolutely," her mother said. "It's only fair."

"What?" Sara cried. "Mom, please, don't let her!" She squirmed and flailed, but her mother held her firm across her lap.

Mara raised her hand up and brought it down. SWIP! It wasn't as hard as her mother's, but knowing that one of her classmates she had teased at school was spanking her bare bottom was so much worse. SWIP! SWIP! Mara giggled, and sat back down.

"Is that all?" her mother asked.

"Yes, thank you, I just wanted to see what it was like."

"Is there anything else you would like, dear?" her mother asked sweetly.

"Um, yes, actually. I think the punishment might be more effective if she were naked."

"What?" Sara protested. "No, please, please, please no!"

But her mother didn't listen to her then any more than she did since Sara had gotten out of bed. She pulled Sara's shirt up over her head and tossed it aside. Her small breasts dangled beneath her like udders.

She didn't know how much longer her punishment lasted after that. Long enough for her bare butt to turn red. Long enough for Mara to film every angle of her anatomy. Long enough for her to stop feeling, or caring, about anything.

Eventually, though, it did end. Mara left smiling and Sara went back to bed. The next Monday, Sara found out that Mara had gone to the rest of the cheerleaders, one by one, and had them punished too. Mara never tried to blackmail them with her spanking videos, but just the knowledge that she could do that to them was enough.

Sara quit the cheer team soon after that. Having her vulnerability thrown in her face like that killed her enthusiasm for the sport, and she spent the next few years of her life trying to be forgotten.

And maybe she succeeded. If Mara ever recognized one of the girls who tormented her when she was younger, she gave no sign, but Mara was someone that Sara would *never* forget.

I spent the rest of the school day mulling over what Sara had told me. The Sith was stronger than me and she didn't care who she hurt, while I limited myself by the Jedi code. While I may have embarrassed Mrs. Sanchez a bit that one time, I didn't humiliate her like Mara did and I would never do anything to get her fired. I may have stripped Forester and felt up her naked body, but in my defense I really, really wanted to.

With nothing holding her back, Darth Mara was a danger I needed to deal with, but how? She had more experience than I did, and I couldn't even compare to her level of power.

Or could I? I honestly hadn't tried. Her powers could affect dozens of people at once, but how many could I handle? One, at least, but how many more?

I owed it to the welfare of the galaxy to find out. Fortunately, I still had gym class that day.

We had a physical fitness exam that day where we would see how many sit-ups, push-ups, etc. we could do, and then record them so we could tell if we've been improving or not over the year. For most of the exercises, we paired off and counted each other, but there was only one chin-up bar, so we all had to take turns as Ms. Forester recorded everything.

If I was feeling confident in my abilities, I would have stripped everyone naked (or at least all the girls), and used my powers to prevent anyone from noticing anything. That's what Mara might have done, but I wasn't at her level just yet. Instead, I needed something more … incremental. I came up with an idea and the exercises began. In the spirit of chivalry, the girls went first, and in the interest of mastering the ways of the Force (and nothing else), I pulled the first girl's down as soon as she grabbed the bar.

The rest of us sitting on the floor watching her (Ashley), burst out laughing as her plain white panties came into view, hugging the curves of her butt cheeks. Thanks to my intervention, Ashley didn't notice a thing, but Ms. Forester decided to play the part of the mature, rational adult, if only because she was one.

"Pull your shorts up, Ashley," she said. She might have been more sympathetic if this had happened before I had pulled her panties down in front of the whole gym class, but right now Forester only sounded annoyed at the interruption.

"What?" Ashley asked innocently. The crowd laughed again.

"Your shorts, girl. And tie them this time, unless you want to spend the class in your underwear."

If I made her too oblivious, the kids would start feeling confused instead of amused, and things could get suspicious, so Ashley realized what had happened, screamed, and redressed herself as her classmates jeered.

Of course. The girls were content to let their peers embarrass themselves, and the boys were happy to see what the girls were wearing under their shorts, but the teacher was going to enforce the dress code.

Unless I convinced her not to. I reached out with the Force and touched Forester's mind, encouraging her sense of apathy. If one of her students couldn't keep track of her own clothes, she thought, then that was her own problem. I didn't take *her* shorts, though. After what had happened with Mrs. Sanchez, I didn't want to get another hot teacher fired.

I still pantsed Ashley a second time around, though. The crowd laughed even harder this time, but Ashley was too busy focusing on her exercises to notice. One of the guys sitting near the front, Dan, snatched up her forgotten shorts and stuffed them in his pocket. After finishing, Ashley dropped to the floor and sat down with the crowd, not sure what they were smirking at.

That was two so far that I could control at once. Not Mara's twenty, but how much further could I go?

Miranda, with her rainbow polkadot panties, came next, and she didn't notice a thing. But then Erica took her turn, and when I pulled down her shorts the crowd oohed instead of laughed, because instead of seeing her cute panties, we saw her bare and glorious bottom. For a moment I thought she was going commando, but after studying her butt more carefully (for science, mind you), I realized she was wearing a thong, which was the same thing from behind.

Unfortunately, her behind distracted me enough so Ashley broke free from my influence.

"Aah!" she yelped. "My shorts are gone!"

"Took you long enough!" someone called out, and the rest of the class laughed.

"What happened?" Ashley demanded. "How long have I been like this?" She looked up at the teacher helplessly.

"I'm not your mother," Forester replied, looking down at her clipboard. She, at least, was still under my control. "If you can't keep track of your own clothes, then you'll just have to go through class in your underwear." The male half of the class burst out in applause.

"What? I can't do that! Come on, my shorts have to be around here somewhere! Has anyone seen them?" She craned her neck looking around, but she knew that if she stood up, her panties would be at eye level for everyone sitting down.

Dan's pockets were about ready to burst, but no one said anything.

"Tough luck," Forester said. "Maybe this will teach you to keep them on in the future." She turned to Erica, who had finished and was facing us in her thong. "Sorry, I was distracted. How many did you do?"

"Five," Erica said, who had only done four. Liar, liar, pants on fire. Fortunately, I had taken precautions and saved Erica from metaphorical third-degree burns, and she sat down, practically naked from the waist down.

So … Forester, Ashley, and Miranda. After I had added Erica to the mix, Ashley and broken free, so was three my limit? But Erica had surprised me with her thong, and that was practically cheating.

I kept on trying. After pantsing two more girls, Miranda had broken free, bringing my record up to four, and if I focused as hard as I could, I plateaued at around five or six. Again, not at Mara's level, but far more than I thought I could do. And the best part was, after Dan recruited some of his friends to help him hide the evidence, every girl in my gym class was forced to participate in their panties.

Some of them took to it better than others. I expected Erica to be the most embarrassed because she was showing the most, but I guess she was overwhelmed by the sheer ridiculousness of her situation, laughed it off, and adopted a sort of dreamlike serenity that left some of the more timid girls in admiration of her apparent confidence. Others took advantage of the situation and enjoyed the chance to show off and breach taboos that were normally prohibited, and for others it was a bonding experience and they grew closer to their friends and classmates over their mutual embarrassment, so over all, I think the class period was fun for everybody.

Then class ended, we hit the showers, and everything went to hell.

That day I had seen Mrs. Sanchez strip completely naked and I had just spent the last half hour with every girl in my gym class in their underwear, so I was feeling pretty good. I didn't know how to deal with Darth Mara just yet, but it had taken Obi-Wan Kenobi an entire generation before he managed to defeat Darth Vader, and a Jedi was supposed to be patient.

There was a lot to be said for patience, especially when the scenery was nice. I don't know how Yoda managed living alone in a swamp for twenty years, but he was a Jedi Master, and I was still learning. At the moment, my scenery wasn't great—I was naked in the shower surrounded by a bunch of other naked dudes in the shower—but the class period of a bunch of half-dressed girls was still fresh in my mind.

They were probably naked in their own shower right now, all wet and soaping each other up. I could control five at once, but if my powers increased, then one day I might be able to shower with them. Mara could handle that many right now, and for all I knew, she had done it before, showered in the wrong locker room and watched a group of naked guys put on a show for her. What would that be like? I had showered with my gym teacher not too long ago, but if I could replace her with ten or fifteen high school girls, watching them, feeling them …

At that moment, hell interrupted me in the form of those same girls bursting into the showers. "There he is!" one of them said, pointing right at me. "Get him!"

Now, there's a widespread fantasy that guys have that if a girl sees you naked, you'll face that moment with proud confidence. That's bull crap. Girls know that if a guy sees her naked, he's going to like it no matter what she looks like, but we don't have that to fall back on, so when the girls charged in, we all screamed, turned away, and covered our junk trying to figure out what was going on, leaving the intruders free to do what they wanted.

What they wanted, I found out, was me. They charged through the shower and were as wet as I was by the time they reached me, then they grabbed me and dragged me out to the lockers. I'd like to say that I was considering my options at the time and trying to figure out a way to escape, but the truth was I was senseless. I already had a boner from my … mediations before they showed up, and you know how all the girls had gone through class without their shorts? Yeah. These girls were still in their panties, and after getting soaking wet, the way their shirts had gone transparent and clung to their bodies was *nothing* compared to what I saw below.

Bikini bottoms are designed to get wet. Panties are not. When they got wet, they looked like they were painted on, and there were camel toes everywhere I looked. Some of the girls had worn white that day, and *those* ones had gone so transparent, it was like they had disappeared entirely.

But then I looked up, and I was brought face to face with the devil herself.

"Hey, Luke." Darth Mara's thin, pale lips curled upward in a smile. "You look happy to see me."

In my defense, I was hard before the Sith even showed up. I felt my face grow hot as she appraised me. Against most girls, I could give far better than I got, but Mara was another matter entirely.

"What do you want?" I asked.

"Well, you seemed upset about the Little Willy rumors, and I wanted to know if you really did get off on people seeing you, so why not kill two stupid birds who don't know their place with one stone?" She glanced down at my dick which I couldn't cover even if I wanted to. Which I did … want to. Of course. "It looks like I was right, by the way, but no one was expecting otherwise. Still, now that we're both here, let's talk."

At that, the girls holding me threw me to the ground and flipped me onto my back, pinning me. Mara stepped daintily over my head onto my chest with her bare feet, and as she passed over, my eyes followed her slender legs up until they disappeared into the darkness of her dress. "You've been asking about me," she said, poking my shaft with her toe.

I don't have a foot fetish, and that's at the bottom of my personal fetish hierarchy right above furies, but at that moment, lying naked on my back surrounded by wet, half naked girls, a rock would have gotten a reaction out of me.

"I don't like people asking questions about me," she continued. She must have caught wind of my conversation with Sara in the library. "It makes me think you're plotting something seditious, so let's get something straight, you and I. This is *my* school, and you will either submit or suffer.

I was suffering right now. She had started rubbing my dick with her foot, and it was like someone had taken heaven and hell and made a twizzler out of it.

I gritted my teeth. "Jedi do not—"

She stomped her foot on my chest. "Oh, shut up with that, already. You know what Jedi don't do? They don't strip everything with tits for jerk-off material. They don't do whatever they feel like, Luke, because it's not the Force that makes someone a Jedi or a Sith, it's their convictions. The first Jedi thing you've ever done was stand up to me, and that's not nearly enough to tip the balance. You're no Jedi. You're not even a Sith. You're just a little boy playing make believe, and I'm done playing."

The balls of her foot pressed down against the base of my cock, and my shaft ran up her foot until the head rested against her heel. She glanced down at it and raised her eyebrows. "Well, what do you know? You're a foot long."

Now, her feet were a few inches short of twelve, but I guess I must have taken the compliment anyway because that sent me over the edge of the orgasmic cliff, splurting into the air. The spasm rippled through my body, then echoed, and then there was only silence.

But enough about that. Let's talk about something really interesting: meditation!

I'm serious. Meditation is great. I told you I got into it a while ago, like back in chapter two or something. It's part of every Jedi's mental breakfast. Apparently, I've been lacking some of that essential Jediness, so after school that day I went home to make up for lost time, and started exploring the future.

Seeing the future is something that they never really explored in the movies, so either the characters couldn't see the future at all, or they just couldn't see anything important. From a dramatic perspective that makes perfect sense; you don't want something like prescience spoiling the ending for you, but I'm sure Luke Skywalker would have appreciated knowing that his friends could escape Cloud City without him, and then he wouldn't have gotten his arm cut off.

As brilliant as that entire movie was, I didn't want to get my arm cut off either, or whatever else Darth Mara had in store for me, so I went up in my room, stood on my head, and started levitating my Yoda action figure.

Then I saw the future.

Or at least one of them.

I had managed to get back at Mara, and got her good. She was overconfident and careless, assuming because she was stronger than I was, there was nothing I could do to her. Oh, how wrong she was. I snuck a camera into the girls' locker room, a camera without a mind for her to sense, and I got pictures of her naked. I got a bunch of other pictures, too, but hers were the ones I really needed.

The second part was harder. I had to insert those pictures into a presentation during a school assembly. If I had shown the pics to a small group, I knew she could prevent those people from noticing, but the whole school? Over a thousand students saw her when her picture came up on screen, pale, flat chested, wearing nothing but soap and water. The people here knew her, feared her, but here she was, stripped naked in front of all of them.

The principle stared, as surprised as the rest of us, but he came to his senses and switched to the next slide. Mara was in that one too, facing away from the camera, and giving everyone in the school a close up of her butt. By now the shock of seeing a naked girl on screen had worn off, and the students started laughing. The principle panicked, foreseeing a lawsuit on his hands, but before he could skip to the next slide (which, between you and me, was really the best one), the projector projector exploded.

It warped at twisted under some unseen Force, giving off sparks and smoke. Then the screen ripped itself in two and the ceiling lights started shattering. Around that time I decided to make my exit.

Mara caught up with me in the parking lot and decided to murder me. You know, I had kind of assumed that we were going to keep things relatively civil, where I push, she pushes back, I push harder and so forth so we'd get a nice stead escalation. But nope, she just wanted to skip straight to the murder, and that's why you don't play games with Sith.

Anyway, she started chucking cars at me. If you know how much cars are worth, then you can guess what amount of collateral damage I was dealing with.She would lift them up in the air with her mind, then hurl them at me, and a few of them even exploded Michael Bay style, which was both awesome and terrifying.

I was able to dodge them, fortunately. Jedi reflexes come in handy when someone's trying to kill you, but then she started shooting lightning at me. Yup, real, bonafide, Force lightning from her fingertips. I couldn't shoot lightning, but I was shooting for the Darwin Award, so I tried to catch it. Yoda could do it, and he made it look easy, so I figured … well, I couldn't, and I was left lying on the asphalt feeling extra crispy, and not in the fun way.

"Ow," I coughed.

"You know," Mara said, "I've never actually had the chance to use that on a person before. Would you be willing to rate your pain before I finish you off? For science?"

I pulled myself to my feet with the help of a nearby Corolla. "Nine," I said. "Nine and a half. I wasn't sure if I could catch that, but I had to try anyway."

She nodded. "Good plan. Well thought out. Anywho, time to die."

She raised her hands to fry me again, but I was ready this time. You know how Obi-Wan channeled Count Dooku's lightning into his lightsaber? Well, I didn't have a lightsaber, so I grabbed a broken stop sign (with my mind, of course, I know how electric conductivity works) and held it between us. The metal pole caught the lightning and channeled it away from me, exactly as planned. Less intendedly, the lightning arced into the car I was standing next to, ignited its gas tank, and the car exploded.

I … don't know if I survived that, but the vision ended and I decided that showing the whole school her nudes and then challenging her to physical combat was not the path to victory.

In my next vision, I had actually fallen to the Dark Side. I became Mara's apprentice in the ways of the Sith, and I turned out to be a natural. I was surprised at the time, but I shouldn't have been. I had been plunging deeper and deeper to the Dark Side since I first discovered the Force, and it was only vanity and hypocrisy that prevented me from admitting it.

But just has I turned out to be a fake Jedi, Mara ended up being a poor Sith. Despite her talk of conviction, she didn't really have it. She never had the pounding rage a Sith needs to keep focus, only the fear. Fear of being powerless again made her cling to power, and that power led to isolation and loneliness. By the time she accepted me as her apprentice, there was a hole in her heart practically made for me.

After that she started to grow content, which a Sith should never do. A Sith doesn't just need more, she *needs* to need more. As we spent more and more time together, she stopped feeling so lonely, she stopped feeling afraid, and as her thirst for power weakened, so did she. But by then I no longer needed her, and her time was over.

Before that, though, I had five sexy mindslaves in slave Leia outfits to keep me company. Two blondes, two brunettes, and one redhead, all eager to please and with breasts larger than Mara could ever hope for. There's something incredible about the slave Leia costume that makes a girl look better wearing it than totally naked, which I knew because the redhead crawled onto my bed, slipped the bottoms off her rounded hips, and …

And I'll just give you the spark notes version of what happened next. Basically, that wasn't the future I wanted. Replacing Mara with a Sith version of myself wasn't going to help anyone, and while I had wanted to have a six-way since I hit puberty, I had wanted to be a Jedi my whole life, and I wasn't going to give that up just to screw mindslaves.

Also, if you ever get the chance for a six-way, pass. You're not half as manly as you think you are, and you'll be worn out after girl number two. Then either the other three will feel sad that they didn't get a turn, and you never want to leave a girl disappointed in your performance, or relieved that they didn't have to actually touch you, which is worse.

I went on to the next vision, and the one after that, but I never got any future I was happy with. I found plenty that sucked, though, and I came away knowing plenty of ideas that were doomed to fail. From those, I came up with something that I hadn't seen myself do in any of my visions, and if it didn't work, I wouldn't end up any worse than I was already. Probably.

I went about looking for her the next day, waving my hands at people until they talked, before I found her at the library. Apparently she spent a lot of time there, which was how she knew I've been asking Sara about her the day before.

She looked up from her book and shot me a cool glare. "What do you want?"

Maybe it's the sexy librarian fetish in me, but I've always had a thing for severe women with books. And glasses. Didn't Mara used to wear glasses? Oh, right, I was in the middle of a showdown between good and evil. "I just wanted to let you know that you've won."

"Oh?"

"As per our agreement, or rather your agreement, I won't try to undermine or overthrow you, and you won't try to destroy me."

"Huh." She didn't … she didn't look to enthusiastic about my surrender. Perfect.

"I will, however, need you to get my English teacher her job back." The old man they had gotten to substitute for Mrs. Sanchez had managed to do the impossible and make Sense and Sensibility even more boring than it already was.

"The one who streaked the school?" The corner's of her thin lips twitched in a smile. "I'm pretty sure she got arrested."

"Then unarrest her," I said. "I'm not going to insult you by suggesting that's beyond your abilities."

"A wise habit to get into."

"So …"

She looked down at her book and resumed reading. "So I'll think about it. If you have nothing else, I'm busy."

"Actually there's one more thing," I said. "The Renaissance Festival is started up again, andIwaswonderingifyouwantedtogowithme."

She went still. "What?"

Sometimes I talk really fast when I'm nervous, and girls are plenty intimidating when they *haven't* killed you in alternate futures. "Renaissance Festival," I said as slowly as I could.

She looked up at me, scrutinizing me with her brilliant green eyes. "Are you asking me out on a date?" There was an equal amount of suspicion and incredulity in her voice.

"I mean, um, last time you altered the, um, thing, you said I was supposed to entertain you, and I can't really—do the, um, without the … stuff." Smooth. Also, what kind of date idea was the Renaissance Festival? Sure, I had fun at them, but I should have picked something that girls liked, like bowling. (They liked bowling, didn't they? I mean, I didn't, but someone had to.)

She stared at me for a long moment. Then she stood up and walked away, and that is how my awkward social skills doomed the galaxy. But before she left, she stopped. "You better have a costume," she said. "Because if you don't, everyone will laugh at you and you'll feel stupid."