“I... I think I do, Counsellor de Anna,” Amy replied. “And I'm sorry-”

“Yes,” de Anna replied. “And that's part of the problem. Mr Davis has been pushing you for more than a month. You're a vore. You shouldn't put up with that kind of behaviour from an unlicensed woman, much less a man. It reflects badly on the rest of us. Frankly you should've opened your mouth and let him fall down your throat weeks ago,” de Anna shook her head, though of course Amy could see only the back of it.

“When he gave you that ridiculous detention on that pathetic pretext of discussing vore – something you have every right to do – was the perfect opportunity to devour him. Yet is he a shit-stain in one of the student toilets? Answer he is not. Your mother and I are concerned,” de Anna continued. “We know you can vore, presented with a suitably sedate and pseudo-willing man. But you're a goddess and they're your damn food. It's fun to feel them struggle when you know how useless it is. In truth, you're missing out. People are worried about you, Amy,” de Anna said.

Then she turned around.

“Oh,” she said softly to Amy's grinning face, watching her student's hands gently exploring her distended belly. “Well, I feel stupid. That is Mr Davis in there, I take it?” The Counsellor said bopping her head at Amy's tum.

Amy just smiled, and remembering how pleasant it'd been to devour her teacher. “Yes,” she said softly. “He was delicious.”

“I doubt that,” de Anna replied. “We'll have to take you out for someone properly tasty to celebrate. He did struggle, didn't he?” She asked, returning the conversation to her devoured-if-not-yet-digested colleague.

“Oh yes,” Amy said. “Mightily. He's still struggling,” she continued, patting her belly lightly. “My stomach's dealing with it.”

“Mind if I have a feel?” The Counsellor asked, already rising to sweep around her desk. Amy realised she had no idea at all if Isabel de Anna had children, but if she did then she was most definitely a MILF. It occurred to Amy that even if she didn't, her role towards the school hundred-plus vores was decidedly maternal. The unlicensed girls and the boys... not so much, unless you counted certain species whose offspring had a very limited time-window to get the hell away from 'mommy' before she turned them into a meal.

As she strode, de Anna's hair tumbled from its coils about her head and fell to almost brush her ass, apparently without human intervention. It gleamed with life, curls bouncing.

“How did you do that?” Amy asked.

“Hair-vore,” de Anna answered shortly, leaning back against her desk. Her breasts were sufficiently voluptuous that they invaded Amy's space. It made her feel a tiny bit uncomfortable, somehow. And, if she was truly honest, a tiny bit excited too. “Once a month. Keep it to a boy under twelve or so and it won't get unmanageably long, and their youth gives a certain vitality I enjoy.

Amy imagination ran wild, some poor pre-teen man, pressed against de Anna's maternal figure, wrapped in tight coils of hair. Crying, whilst she smiled and killed him.

The thought was... kind of exciting.

Isabel de Anna tossed her hair. Indeed, it was beautiful, vital with stolen life. No, Amy realised. Taken but not stolen, the life of a man a vore's to claim by right.

My rights.

That's who I am now, Amy thought.

Yum.

Isabel de Anna's hand slid down between the tails of Amy's uniform-blouse, parted by the bulge of her belly. “Oh, my,” de Anna said. “He's certainly a fighter, isn't he?”

Amy grinned. “Indeed,” she replied. “Feels good.”

“I can tell,” de Anna concurred, and poked Amy's belly firmly with her fingertip.

Mr Davis's: “Ouch,” could be heard quite clearly and distinctly, followed by some mumbling.

“Can you make out what he's saying?” Amy asked.

“He's slightly upset with me,” de Anna said, her ear resting atop Amy's distended tum.

“With you?” Amy enquired.

“I, ah,” de Anna blushed a little, “may have suggested that I'd protect him if he took a firmer line with you. I implied that the bond between teachers was stronger than that between vores. I was hoping it'd encourage you to eat him, which it did,” she smiled. “So that's all-right then.”

“Hear that, you naïve soon-to-be-shit?” She continued. “I was hoping she'd eat you! Teachers are just colleagues, but vores are sisters. And soon you'll be nothing but crap!” Her tone softened and she smiled. “Enjoy turning him into one, Amy,” she said.

“Christine helped with the eating part,” Amy added out of some sense of loyalty.

The aforementioned girl poked her head around the door.

“Hey Christine,” de Anna greeted. “Come in. Amy ate Mr Davis. Isn't it great! Though I'm a bit surprised to see your belly not bulging? Something the matter?”

“Sure is,” Christine replied. “Great, I mean. The only thing that's wrong is that my BFF's got a nice full belly and here I am all empty and horny.” She inclined her head. “I was going to pick someone up on the way home, before you interrupted us.”

“Well, I'm sorry I disrupted you,” de Anna said. “Or... maybe not,” she continued thoughtfully, studying the top-sheet of the file open on her desk. “That was Mrs DeWhitt on the phone. Complaining about how her little boy was treated by some vores at school today. Apparently, they threatened to eat him. Can you imagine how he felt?”

“Lucky that they didn't eat him?” Christine opined.

“Apparently,” de Anna continued. “They fwightened him. And he ran crying to his mommy. Who called me. It isn't even a vorish family: Mrs Lucinda DeWhitt; Mr Benjamin DeWhitt; and little Thom DeWhitt, only eleven years old.” Guidance-Counsellor Isabel de Anna smiled blindingly at her two students. “Three of them, three of us. I'm sure you've got room for a little one in their, Amy,” she continued, pressing down hard on the bulge her former colleague made in Amy's belly. “Would you girls like to help me resolve this complaint?”