“I think I misunderstood you,” you say. “I don't want you to... digest me.” A shiver, not entirely from fear or cold, runs through you. “I just wasn't sure I'm up to eating someone.” She gives you a strange, somehow pitying smile.

“I read your file,” she says. “You have never, not once, devoured someone. You're one of the oldest 'freshmen' we've had in years. Vores develop at puberty; we usually eat our first meal around the time we start 'normal' high school. While you may be a late bloomer, your sessions with your old school therapist reveal an aversion to eating people. Also, your parents report you started stuffing yourself with regular food two years ago. That might take the edge off, but any normal vore would have downed a classmate or two long ago.” You stare at your feet, as she patiently waits for a reply.

“I... just can't... stand the thought of... killing someone, just to fill my belly,” you finally say. “I would look at my friends and family, and think how delicious they looked, even my little sister. But if I ate them, they'd be gone forever. I'd rather starve than do that to someone I cared about, or anyone else for that matter. But I thought I would learn to control the hunger here. My parents said this was the best vore schools.” She gives you another pitying smile.

“This IS the best vore school,” the nurse says. “It has the highest student survival rate, and the lowest alumni rampage rate, of any in the country. It's also the most expensive. But you need to know a few facts. One, at least half of each class doesn't live to see graduation. Two, for you to survive, you MUST eat living prey, especially humans or, if you're good enough, other vores. Three, if you had kept starving yourself, sooner or later you would have snapped, and no one near you would be safe. I believe you have seen what can happen with your own eyes.”


“One of my friends was a vore. Christa ate her entire family, her neighbors, and half of her friends. She told us her family was away one summer, and invited us for a slumber party, a few at a time. I guess I was lucky. She stuffed herself with the other two, Brooke had a weight problem, and when she tried to eat me, she didn't have quite enough room, and had to spit me out. Then I watched as she digested our friends. By morning, they were fertilizer.” You look away again. She walks over and puts a hand on your chin, raising it to look you right in the eye.

“Tell me,” she says. “What did you feel then? Relief, at escaping certain death? Jealousy of Crista, for doing what you secretly wanted? Or were you jealous of the other two?” You gasp at her insinuation. “You know, not many freshmen jump down the first throat they see. Did you even hesitate for a second before you took Kathy up on her offer?” She must mean the secretary. You find you don;t have a good answer, and keep quiet.

“How long do you think you would last here?” she asks. “A month, a week? Even a day? I shouldn't be telling you this, but if you don't enroll, your parents will be refunded this semesters tuition. That's more than some people make in a year. I didn't see your family's financial records. Do they have money to throw away?”

“They took out a second mortgage,” you shamefully reply. “Dad's working weekends, and Mom got a second job. God knows when they can retire, after a few years of this. No way they can pay for Kelly to go to college when she gets older. If she's another vore...”

“It does tend to run in families,” the nurse says. “If she were to go to a state-run school...” She doesn't need to say any more. The state schools tend to just let everyone eat everyone else, until by graduation, less than ten percent of students survive. Not that the graduates tend to live long, either. They never seemed to have any self control. One rampage, and it was down an executioner's maw. That was Crista's fate. A few victims could be forgiven, provided the perpetrator immediately enrolled in a vore school. She devoured most of her block, and half her class, to boot.

The thought of your little sister ending up in place like that is... unthinkable. The odds are against her becoming a vore, but you think you noticed her eating more than she should be able to without looking like Brooke. If your parents spend thirty grand for a semester, only to have it all wasted after you become waste, even if they recover financially, they might decide to send Kelly to a state school, figuring she'll end up like you, anyway.

“If you eat me now, my parents keep all the money, right? No huge waiver fee or anything?”

“Full refund,” she says. “The only loss would be your airfare and shipping on your things.”

“Oh, all my stuff's still at home, thank God. They're waiting for me to settle in first, and I heard bringing your own clothing is a waste of time at vore schools. I just have the clothes on my back or I should say the clothes under the secretary's desk, a watch, and a purse. Can you do me a favor and ship them back home, along with a letter?” She places her hands on your shoulders and looks you in the eye.

“You're sure?” she asks. “Once you go in, you're not coming out.”

“Except as a bowel movement, right?” She nods. You feel yourself getting wet at the thought of feeding this gorgeous creature. All the self deception has fallen away. You realize that you want this more than anything. The nurse is right; you won't last long as a student.

“There's stationery at my desk. Take your time, and write out your goodbyes. It might seem more impersonal than a phone call, but believe me when I say it's better for everyone involved. Warn your sister to get herself tested every six months til she's twenty. I honestly don't know why they don't make that a law. It would save so much trouble, not to mention lives.” You suspect that the lives saved is secondary to the nurse. Vores always seem to be indifferent to human life and suffering. Just another sign that you're not cut out to be one.

It takes you much longer that you thought to say your goodbyes, and more than once you have to start a page over as your tears blur the ink. By the time you finish, fittingly enough, it's lunchtime. You find the nurse sending a naked girl with a stomach bigger than her on her way.

“Apparently her meal keeps a large bottle of antacids in her womb, for emergencies. She has gym soon, and that's no fun on a full stomach. I told her to either let her out, or wait til the antacids run out. We don't stop students from eating each other, but we don't help them, either.”

“Will she let the girl out?”

“Who knows? She hasn't made up her mind yet. Her gym class is still an hour away, and even if you can't digest a meal, it's still... pleasant to have inside. The wriggling feels exquisite, although whoever she ate knows enough not to move around much. That really gets the juices going. Literally.” She smirks at that last, thought you don't think much of the pun. A thought hits you.

“How long will it take to... you know? Digest me?” The nurse ponders this for a minute.

“Well, when we eat a normal human, assuming we keep air in our stomach for them to breathe, they usually last about five minutes or so. It'll take about an hour to break them down, depending on size, and then they slide through our small intestine about four or five hours as nutrients are absorbed. The large intestine absorbs most of the moisture from what's left in about a half hour or less. Then it's on to the colon til we crap out the remains.” She looks you over as you take it all in, and then drops more on you.

“You, on the other hand,” she says, “are a vore, whether you like it or not. Even though you've never eaten someone, and are weak because of that, you're still tougher than any human. That means you'll last at least half an hour in my stomach. It'll take at least two hours to break you down to soup, and ten to twelve hours to fully digest you. It also means you'll be aware of yourself for all of that.” This completely confuses you.

“What do you mean? Once you start breaking me down, won't I be dead?”

“That's true for normal humans. Their soul leaves the body once it can't support life. You know how it's said the only reliable way to kill a vore is to have another vore digest her? That's mostly true. We are stronger and tougher than any human. We can recover from almost any injury, with enough food, and are immune to most disease. If we weren't so hard to kill, normals would have done us in long ago, just from superior numbers. As near as anyone can figure, a vore's soul doesn't leave the body til the turd has gotten cold.”

Your mind reels with the thought of having to experience your entire digestion. Hell, it sounds like you'll actually get to feel yourself being shit out! A low moan escapes your lips, and you quiver as, for the first time in your life, you orgasm without any physical stimulation. The nurse raises an eyebrow at the puddle of cum that forms at your feet. She slides a finger into your moist tunnel, and licks it, savoring your flavor.

“I think we have time for a little fun,” she says. She takes of her uniform, revealing nothing but white stockings underneath. Her massive breasts some how remain pert and firm, and her nipples are the size of your pinkie's tip. Her mound is smooth, and her pussy already starting to drip. She slides out of her shoes, and puts on a show taking off her stockings. She stands back up and pulls you to an examination table, apparently the gynecologist kind. She straps your feet in the stirrups, and spreads your legs wider than they've ever been before.

She kneels down and goes to town on you, as you thrash on the table, kneading your tits, her skilled fingers and tongue driving you wild. You lose track of how many times you cum, until you finally collapse back, unable to do more than breathe. After you catch your breath, the nurse pulls a lever on the table, dropping you back parallel with the floor. She clambers onto the table, squatting on your face.

You've only done this a few times, but you manage to get her to cum more than a few times. Her huge boobs lay heavily on your waist. You discover one downside to having tits bigger than toddlers; she can't sixty-nine with them in the way. You make the best of the situation, letting your tongue do all the work at her labia, and fondling her orbs with your hands. Unable to lick at your pussy, she rubs your clit with one hand, and drives in and out your tight hole with the other. It hurts, but in a good way. At least you've produced plenty of lube.

You're amazed that you're able to cum again. You stop fondling her tits, and bring your hands back to help drive her wild. Your hands reach almost to the elbow before encountering resistance. The added stimulation sends her over the edge, and she has a series of orgasms that dwarf anything before. Once she gets her wind back, she climbs off you and plops down on a neaby bed. You hardly noticed her weight until it was gone and you could breathe properly again. You both rest for a while. Eventually, she stirs.

“That was awesome, love, but now I've worked up an appetite,” she says. She gets up, and kisses you passionately, groping your tits. She then raises up the table, so you can see what she's doing. The beautiful nurse takes your feet out of the stirrups and brings them together.

“It's time now, love. I'll even give you a choice. I can gobble you down the old fashioned way, or I can get... creative.”