Your stomach is empty, now. It is cleared, fully cleared. You look down at it, pushing it around and rubbing it while walking to the nurse's office. You've gotten fatter since you've come to this school (yesterday), but not actually fat yet. It's still doesn't extend beyond your breasts--not that those are small by any means.

In fact, it's quite the opposite. You grab them with your hands and hoist them a bit, sizing them up. Probably a 38? Maybe like a 38...E? DD? EE? You've stopped worrying about the cup size and band size, actually, since it's all so inconsistent that you just wear whatever size seems to feel the most comfortable. It's just nice to have a point of reference. You remember being around a 34D at the end of middle school (which made you the absolute bombshell among the 14-year-olds of your school and actually still hot with every other crowd ever) so they've gotten a lot larger since you've begun to eat people.



During last June, the Saturday morning a week before your graduation ceremony, you had received a letter, addressed specifically for you, marked with official typeprint saying, "For the addressee only: sensitive information. This is NOT for the student's parents." Your father, a blue-collar man with few cares in his life after his soul-sucking job, simply handed the letter over to you and fell into his chair, splashing a bit of his coffee onto the rest of the mail he piled on the breakfast table. "Now you get mail that I'm not even allowed to read, hah. Growing up..." he trailed off into a mumble, hiding himself in his red-and-black plaid robe.

Curious, you had gone to your room with the envelope in hand. It opened to reveal flyers of school information, and the one-page note for every student:

"Dear Student,

Congratulations on your completion of Junior High. While you may expect to head to your local High School after summer vacation, we here at Consumentirity think you're going to want to enroll at our school instead. We're so confident, that we've already contacted your High School's administration and set up a program that allows you to simply appear here on the first day, and if you do we'll let them know that you'll be joining us.

Why are we so confident that you'll pick us as your next school instead of your local public or private schools? Because we know a secret about you."

Suddenly, the letter felt a little creepy.

"Some of you students have not exhibited it; some of you students have felt it but never acted; some of you students already know the taste.

We mean that literally. If you have received this letter, you are a Vore. What is a Vore? Simply put, it is a human being with the capacity to devour things much larger than what normal people can. And it often manifests itself with a lust to eat living creatures, including quite frequently fellow humans. This is NOT a joke.

To anyone reading this letter and thinking it a joke, we ask you to perform a simple experiment to validate your skepticism or accept our statement as fact. Go to your kitchen or whichever nearby eatery, pick something mundane around the size of an apple or orange, too large for a normal person to swallow whole. And then, try, please try, to stuff the whole thing into your mouth. We know that you will be capable of it.

When you see that you can indeed perform the experiment we've suggested above, know that your life is forever changed. Consumentirity is a safe environment to facilitate proper exploration of the nature of Vores, and we highly encourage you to come here. Know that it is a boarding school, and in exchange for the opportunity for us to understand more about the science of Vores like you, lodging and tuition is provided completely free. Details concerning travel expenses to those who require financial aid can check the enclosed charts and papers.

All you have to do is show up at the school on the first day of term, August 26th at the front doors; administration will guide all students from there. We welcome you to our school, and we hope you exercise your power responsibly during the interim!"

And then below was the address of the school and signatures and yadayada.

But holy crap. What a weird letter. Like, really effing weird. At least, you had thought that at the time, though now, you realized they were right on the money. In your natural skepticism but with the ounce of possibility, you went back to the kitchen where your father snoozed with his head in his arms and his robed arms in his plate of eggs. You grabbed an orange, a big one nearly the size of a small grapefruit, opened your mouth as tall as you can, and pushed the orange against your teeth.

Just a full second after pushing, something gave way, and you felt the entire orange inside your mouth, stuffing your cheeks and straining your jaw slightly painfully. You ran right to the bathroom, flipped the light switch, and looked into the mirror. Your cheeks looked full, but not as big as having a huge orange in it. Weird!

But now to get it out? You tried to spit it out, but it wouldn't go past your teeth, and your jaw was starting to really hurt. You stuck your hand into your mouth, but try as you might, you couldn't get any grip on the round orange wet with saliva. You tilted your head backwards just to see if you could ease the pain on your strained jaws as you readjusted it in your mouth, and the fruit tickled the back of your throat. Reflexively, you swallowed, and you felt a large boulder just fall through your esophagus and plop down into your stomach.

Eyes wide, you looked at your stomach in the mirror. You saw a little outline, and felt at it with your hand. It was a little bump, the shallowest of bumps, but it clearly meant you had just eaten an orange whole that was much larger than you thought your throat could handle. The letter was right--it was crazy, but it was right!

After that, you had run back to the kitchen, your father fast asleep, and reached over him to grab the rest of the fruits from the basket. You ripped the stem off an apple and placed the whole thing into your mouth, with just a small push like before, and tilted your head back again. When your throat got blocked, you swallowed in response again and down it went, as neatly as the orange.

You repeated it with another orange, slightly smaller this time. It went in with less strain and down with less pain. You took a pear, ripped off its stem, inserted the skinnier end into your mouth, and sucked on the fruit hard. It popped into your mouth easily, and you actively swallowed it without tilting your head back.

Every fruit was a complete success, but your midriff looked like a weathered mountain range, and it felt hard. You were completely flat-bellied back then, so each fruit started adding up to make the stomach look noticeably odd. You went back to the letter, reread it, looked at the other papers, read them, reread the letter, felt the fruit in your stomach, and wondered... living creatures?



Get out of your flashback, you're here! At the nurse's! Reminisce about your first casualties later, you've got a smorgasbord if you manage tonight correctly!