Chapter 11: After School Specials (Part 3)

Eden had dialed back the pulse on her mother’s implant just long enough for the three of them to get her lying face up on on the first of the reading tables underneath the skylight closest to the five steps leading down to the common. The fact that each of the three surfaces came with pre-built spreader bars top and bottom betrayed their dual purpose and the three sophomores wasted no time securing the 32 year old brunette to them. An extra pair of bungie cords fished from a purse pulled her knees apart until they were level with the table top and the three eagerly surrounded the restrained futamute like kittens around a ball of yarn.

“Mommy’s still hungry, I can tell,” the cream blonde 15 year old insisted as she pulled one more item from her daypack. Fitting what all the girls were calling a ‘Cum Collar’ around her parent’s neck, she used her phone to activate it and smiled down at her progenitor from overhead, her face upside down. “I’m sure you know what that is for don’t you Mommy? Every parent got the instructions for the ones on their children. I got them too, well Grandma did, but she gave them to me, just like she did your implant controls. We are going to have so much fun together, you and me and the rest of our family, my friends,” she gushed as she climbed aboard the splayed body and lowered her ass down on the upturned face.

“Please baby,” Leana stammered, “this has gone far enough.”

“Oh no, Mommy,” the sophomore disagreed muffling the protest under her flesh as she rocked back and forth gradually forcing the lips below to part then widen to their fullest. “We haven’t gone far enough. We need to show people just how much you love eating shit Mommy, we really do.” With that the younger Darrow sighed and allowed the filth of many others she had been saving to ooze from her stretched asshole across the waiting tongue of the older. Almost immediately the lab assistant’s hips arched as they could within her bondage and cum fountained forth from her cock. Raven Ballantyne who had been idly teasing the organ giggled and quickly drew her hand back at the spasming.

“Wow, that was ... um, violent,” the dark skinned girl laughed returning a single finger to the underside of the throbbing meat as it continued jetting streams of cream.

“I’d say,” chimed in Dana Van Der Beek with a grin as she idly toyed with chestnut brown haired lab worker’s stiff nipples, lightly tracing one, the doing the same with the other.

“There we go Mommy, there we go, show everyone how much you love eating shit,” Eden urged quietly as she waved to a couple of passers by. “My shit tastes so good doesn’t Mommy? Yes, yes it does. Raven’s shit tastes good too, so does Dana’s. Your stomach is so big now but we’re going to fill you right up Mommy. We are going to fill you up so much that you will won’t be able to hold it all in. Eat some more now Mommy, eat some more,” the girl pressed as another long thick log from within her wended it’s way through spread lips.

“This was why I had left the clinic in the first place,” a lonely voice in the back of the 32 year old’s mind wailed as she methodically devoured all the sludge her daughter was fed that day at school, reflexively offering up her pearly paste with each swallow thanks to her newest accessory, “to get out from underneath the asses of others.” “But this is what you were meant to do,” another spoke within her mind. “Look at how much you are enjoying this, look at how much you are cumming. You are so lucky to have a mother and a daughter who feed you as often as they do.” “Her daughter put a collar on her that her mother gave her.” “Only so she could enjoy eating shit even more. Look at how much she is shooting. Again and again and again. She loves it.” The second voice then stopped arguing with the first and turned it’s attention to it’s host. “You love it don’t you Leana, you love eating shit, it makes you cum. Say it with me, say it with me ‘Leana loves eating shit. It makes me cum.’” As Leana Darrow lidded eyes looked up at her daughter’s nurturing ones and she continued gulping down the latter’s fudge, her cock offering it creamy sacrifice to the fecal gods over and over, she couldn’t help but obey. “Leana loves eating shit. It makes her cum,” her own voice echoed inwardly each time she swallowed drowning out the fading wailing of the first voice.

“So, it’s settled then?” Principal Sonja Hofmaier queried looking around the table in the staff room to the other three seated there.

“She was quite an eager eater when she was here as a student,” the Vice-Principal Rita Montrose admitted, shifting her large body in her chair slightly. “She scarfed down a few loads from me over the years.” At 61, the dark skinned French native was on the slow downward slope of her scholastic career that had spanned over 30 years. With any luck when it came time for her to step down, her daughter would replace her.

“Me too Mom, me too,” Lorena added with a nod. “During my first years teaching geography, I had her for two of them. One of her Days of Servitude kicked in during one class.”

“Have either of you had the chance to feed Shelby since she has been back?” asked the fourth seated staffer, Brecklyn Foster. “I know Sonja has.”

“I haven’t as of yet,” the eldest divulged sipping her coffee.

“Same,” her daughter, the school’s guidance counselor, concurred. “She’s at the opposite end of the building. There are usually closer options available.”

“Well a week Monday, that will change now, won’t it?” the green eyed schoolmarm pointed out removing her glasses and letting them dangle around her neck on their chain.

“You like her at this up here then?” probed the vice-principal.

“Yeah, right out there in the main foyer, in front of the cafeteria entrance,” clarified the German.

“She hasn’t lost a thing,” the lab born teacher assured them enthusiastically. “In fact she’s improved her form and capacity. Heike and I trained her well at Bergen and since we collared her she has really found her place among us.”

“And clothing?” the principal questioned peering at the younger Montrose.

“Everyone in The Closet District is on board,” she confirmed pulling a strand of her tweed brown lob behind her ear. “They see it as an opportunity to display their wares, see what the kids like.”

“And Heike?” she then queried turning to the Foster woman.

“Last I heard she was on schedule. She figures a 10 meter perimeter will be enough,” Brecklyn offered, “but there should be a report in your e-mail in the morning. That’s what she told me anyway.”

“How will it discern among students?” The eldest among them followed up.

“Heike says it will cue off of whether a student’s Conditioning Collar has been activated or not that day,” the freckled futamute detailed.

“When was the last time LPI had a School Shit Slut anyway?” Lorena pondered reflectively.

“It’s been a few years,” her mother replied. “Back when Erika was still the principal. We had the Martinez woman at one time.”

“Interesting,” the younger mused, her lips curling slightly.

“It sounds like we are all agreed. Mariel Fischer is arriving from Reykjavik in a week,” the Hofmaier woman interceded, getting the meeting back on track. “She’ll take over Shelby’s classes and really be a boon to the swimming team as well.”

“She has a daughter as well right?” the Environmental Sciences Teacher asked considering.

“Birna, she’s a sophomore,” the Guidance Counsellor nodded, eyes twinkling. “No worries, she’s been homeschooled by Mom.”

“I look forward to meeting her,” the Kiwi bred teacher smiled.

“We all do dear, we all do,” echoed Rita Montrose returning her expression whilst closing her laptop as the meeting ended.

The three middle-aged futamutes sat in plush chairs overlooking the indoor corral. Behind each was a four litre tank of fudge with pump, hose, and mouthpiece. A large monitor some six feet from corner to corner with a variety of smaller squares, each focused on the insides of a single stall as well as the main thoroughfare hung over the row of windows taking in the interior below. Plopped down naked on several large treated leather throw pillows in front of them was a trio of young girls each sporting slight bulges in their mid-sections. The first, Ciqala Bloomingtree, the younger daughter of Sierra, had long chestnut brown hair and amber eyes belying her seen mother Constanina Martinez. The long lanky body of Fiona C One, on the other hand, was a product of Vera Gonzalez’s genetic code, her blonde hair that of Deborah Whatley. Finally though Dong Bo Bao retained the facial structure of her Asian heritage, her blue peepers were given to her courtesy of Leana Darrow. The hands of each were idly caressing the skin of their neighbor, feeding fingerfuls of filth from a large bowl they shared between them, aimless in their path as all six watched the screen.

“There they are now,” Sierra Bloomingtree pointed out bringing up one of the long shots showing the length of the stables and the four figures walking away from the camera, Tazanna Bloomingtree and Elke Müller, two apprentices at Kattegat Riding club, and the two newest students, the Haataja twins, Saara and Salla, identical in every way but for the fact the first had long locks of tweed brown while the other copper red.

“Where are they headed again?” Marlena Müller asked shifting in her chair.

“Stall 9,” the Sioux woman replied.

“That’s where Lina is?” the Austrian followed up.

“Yes, with our other instructor, my daughter Chiana and our best student Viiva, the Captain of the school Equestrian Team,” the Native American revealed.

“Oh, the Leppanen girl,” Enni Haataja smiled. “Always good to have a fellow Finn around.”

“She came by her place on the team honestly,” the turquoise eyed woman informed the others. “She is very, very good. Do not be surprised if she makes someone’s varsity at some point once she moves on to university.”

“As good as my Lina was?” the tallest among them queried.

“Maybe better,” the other returned.

“Why are they going there?” the teacher probed

“We like doing this on a student’s first day,” she explained. “Have the girl meet their first mount, have them develop a connection. If we lucky, maybe they get to ride a bit just inside the stable.”

“Looks like they are almost there,” the bureaucrat noted seeing the stall numbers on screen.

“Let me see if I can pull up the interior shot now,” Sierra muttered working her tablet. “Ah, there we are,” she announced triumphantly as the picture on the screen changed and the cocks of everyone in the room immediately hardened.

“Will we really get to ride today?” Salla Haataja asked eagerly as the quartet approached the end stall.

“Hopefully,” Tazanna replied, her coal black hair pulled into a loose pony tail making prominent blue eyes on a deeply tanned face. “It depends on our instructors really. They’ll decide if you’re ready.”