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[azalel]

WARNING!!!!! THIS STORY CONTAINS GRAPHIC SNUFF.  IT IS VIOLENT AND BLOODY.  IT ALSO CONTAINS SOME CANNIBALISM.  SOME OF THE VICTIMS ARE MOST DEFINITELY NOT WILLING PARTICIPANTS. IF THIS IS NOT YOUR KIND OF STORY, TURN BACK NOW.  IF IT IS SOMETHING YOU MIGHT LIKE, READ ON.

REMEMBER THOUGH, THIS IS FANTASY.  IF YOU HAVE DIFFICULTY SEPARATING THE REAL WORLD AND FANTASY, AND BELIEVE THAT DOING THIS TO SOMEONE MIGHT BE OKAY, PLEASE GET YOUR HEAD EXAMINED.  I RECOMMEND HAVING SOMEONE DO IT WITH A HACKSAW.

THANKS AND I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS.

School Day II - Susan's Revenge

by Azalel

Friday - 4½ weeks before the End-of-Quarter barbecue

   Susan Callowell smiled.  She found it, she thought.  The tests would prove it if she could find corroborating evidence.
   The first few weeks after the end of the first quarter had been rough.  Her mother had been almost hysterical.  Of course, that was to be expected.  Her mother had not read the school contract as carefully as she should have.
   Susan had come extremely close to being cooked for the class barbecue.  The school had a policy that, should a student score below 80 for a quarter, that student would risk being selected as a live subject for a class (experiment) or end up as meat for the post-quarter barbecue.  If there were not enough students to fulfill the meat requirements, the student's parents could be selected as well.
   For the first quarter, Susan had received an 80, barely avoiding the risk.  Her friend, Miranda, was not so lucky.  Miranda had received a 78.  As the only student in the class with a grade below 80, Miranda's parents were also selected and used as biology class specimens. 
   Miranda had to cut them open, remove their organs and allow the class to poke and prod her parents' hearts and lungs.  She then had to stuff them and sew them back up.  Her parents were to be spitted and cooked over a pit.  Once her parents were prepared, the teacher, Miss Therriault, prepared Miranda as well.
   Something had been troubling Susan about the whole ordeal and she decided to investigate.  Her investigation, however, had to be put on hold when her mother received the DVD video of Miranda's family's demise.  The note accompanying the video showed Susan's grade.  Susan's mother, Sheila, had been near panic. 
   "Susan," Sheila asked, "what the hell is this?  Did you know they could do that to us if you fail to get at least an 80 in that class?"
   "Actually, mom, I found out after that last big test.  Don't worry, though.  I have everything under control.  I am working with a tutor to bring up my grades.  You, dad, and Milly will not need to worry about that."
   "Well," Sheila responded, "I am sure that they want parents to be more involved in their child's education.  I can understand that.  I will be checking with your teacher on a weekly basis to monitor your progress."

   The conversation had continued on like that for over an hour.  It did not matter what assurances Susan gave.  Sheila was terrified.  Susan could understand.  Miss Therriault had petitioned the school board to broaden the range of eligible family members. 
   The school board looked at the last barbecue and realized that the school had purchased a lot of meat from the processing plants.  The plan proposed by Miss Therriault would have siblings and parents available for selection should a student fail to get an 80 for the quarter.
   During the school board meeting, the vote passed and siblings were now at risk.  Sheila had voted in favor of the plan, but that was three days before they received Miss Therriault's package.  Now, Sheila was seriously regretting her vote.  Should Susan fail to get an 80 or better, her mother, father, and 10-year-old sister could be selected.
   Susan knew better.  Regardless of how her grades turned out, her family would be fine.  An easily overlooked paragraph of the contract specified that if the student volunteered himself or herself at least two weeks prior to the end of the quarter, no family members would be at risk.  That meant that, should Susan volunteer herself in time, she would be the only one in her family to be cooked.
   Susan had actually wanted to be cooked last quarter, but her discovery that her mother and father would be on the line caused her to change her plans.  She couldn't leave Milly in that situation.  The problem was that if both parents of a student are selected with their child, any other children in the family are handed over to the school system and become slaves until they reach 16 years of age.  At that time, they are cooked for the end-of-year picnic.
   Discovering that Milly could end up like that caused Susan to turn around.  She had always been a good student and, now motivated, put all her efforts into bringing herself out of the danger zone.  She succeeded.

   Miranda had been a friend of Susan's for many years.  They had been in elementary school together.  Susan knew what had caused Miranda's grades to fall, but was under orders from Miranda to reveal nothing.  Miranda had been sure that she would be fine.
   Susan had been sure as well.  That was why she had been shocked to find that Miranda had finished with a 78.  And, to add insult to injury, Miranda was the only student to finish below an 80.  Miranda and her parents were doomed.
   


Monday - 4 weeks before the barbecue

   The day after the barbecue, Susan had broken into Miranda's house and took everything she could that would remind her of her friend.  Upon sorting through her acquisitions, she had discovered that Miranda had kept all of her papers from school.  It was all there; tests, homework, etc. 
   The tests were what got Susan really concerned.  They had studied together all the time.  Miranda should have had no problem passing those tests.  Susan could not figure it out. Miranda had always been smarter than Susan.  How could Susan make it while Miranda did not.  That was when Susan remembered Allison Holt.
   Allison had been another of their friends.  Allison and Miranda had started as fierce enemies.  They were the two smartest kids in school.  They were always fighting over the top spot in the class.  After being together - and swapping the top spot between them - for more than 6 years, they had built a friendship.
   Allison, like Miranda, always kept everything.  She said it was for future study sessions.  At the time, Susan had scoffed.  Now, she was happy.  She persuaded Allison to allow her to look at the tests from the previous quarter. 
   After examining the tests, Susan found several alarming discrepancies.  Answers that had been marked correct on Allison's exams were marked incorrect on Miranda's.  Susan showed both tests to Allison and was satisfied with the look of confusion on Allison's face.

   "What the hell," Allison asked.  "It looks like Ms Therriault was failing Miranda on purpose."
   "It does," Susan agreed, "doesn't it?"
   "Why would she do that?  It doesn't make any sense."
   "I think I know why," Susan said sadly, quickly raising her hand as she saw Allison perk up, "but unfortunately, I cannot say anything right now.  If I find out I am right, I will let you know."
   Allison was not happy with that, but she knew Susan.  If Susan said she would do something, she would do it.  Allison would just have to wait.
   "Ok," Allison said.  "But if it turns out that she did fail Miranda on purpose, what do you think would happen?"
   "I do not know," Susan scowled.  "But if I discover she did do that, I am going to find out what will happen."
   Allison, seeing the dark look on Susan's face, decided to drop the subject for the time being.
   "Do you ever wonder," Allison asked, "what Miranda felt as she was being spitted and put on to cook?"
   "I don't have to wonder." Susan replied.  "She was terrified.  She didn't want it and she was horrified that her parents were also being killed."
   "Didn't want it," Allison asked.  "Who would?"
   Susan did not answer.  She just appeared lost in thought.  Suddenly, she stood and grabbed her jacket.
   "I have to go.  Thanks for looking over these with me."
   "No problem," Allison said as she smiled.  "If you find out anything, you will really let me know, right?"
   "Of course.  If what I think is true, then it will really be interesting."

   As Susan walked home, she thought about the problem.  She had told Allison that she had an idea of why Miss Therriault would do such a horrid thing, but all she really had were vague ideas.  It would take some time to flesh them out.
   Miss Therriault, now that Susan thought about it, never really seemed to like Miranda.  Susan did not know why, but it was enough, apparently, to cause the teacher to lie about grades so Miranda would die.  What she needed, Susan decided, was an adult's point of view.



Friday - 3½ weeks before the barbecue

   Mr. Wilcox had been their homeroom teacher in the eighth grade.  He was tall, slender (without being scrawny), and handsome.  He was about 27 years old.  He lived alone on a lovely tree-lined street about a mile from the middle school.
   Susan was not sure what she was going to say to the man, but she was sure that he had liked Miranda.  She had seen them together after school on multiple occasions.  She had thought, at one time, that Miranda had a serious crush on him.
   As she approached the house, she had a moment of doubt.  Shaking off the feeling, she gathered her courage and knocked on the door.  She heard a response and, a few moments later, the door opened.
   Andrew Wilcox was as handsome as she remembered.  He was also not very self-concious.  He was walking around the house in a towel.  Apparently, he had just gotten out of the shower.
   "Susan," he asked in surprise.  It was not often that former students came knocking on his door.
   "Hi, Mr. Wilcox," Susan said as her eyes drifted uncontrollably down to the towel.  "How are you doing?"
   Andrew looked down and, seeing that he had answered the door while wearing just a towel, began to blush.
   "I am d-d-doing just fine," he answered.  "Why don't you come in.  The living room is over there.  Go make yourself comfortable.  I am going to get dressed."
   "What a pity," Susan muttered to herself.  She walked into the living room and watched Andrew's back and butt as he disappeared into another room.
   A few moments later, he was back.  He was wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt.  He had a beer in his right hand and a soda in his left hand.  Handing her the soda, he took a drink from his beer.
   "Well, Susan, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"
   "Well, Mr. Wilcox..."
   "Please," Andrew interrupted, "call me Andrew.  I am not your teacher anymore."
   "O-okay, Andrew.  I have a bit of a problem and I do not know what to do.  I think one of the teachers in my current school may have done something terribly wrong."
   "What did he do?"
   "She intentionally caused Miranda to get a grade lower than 80."
   "Miranda....you mean Miranda Atkinson?"
   "Yes.  She ended up with a 78."
   "Miranda got a 78," Andrew asked incredulously.  "That is unbelievable.  She was always an 'A' student.  And you think a teacher made it happen?  Why would a teacher do that?"
   "So she could kill Miranda."
   "What?  I think you had better explain.  I am a bit confused here."
   Susan sighed.  She had forgotten that the rule only applied to her school.  Not all teachers would understand the implications.
   "In our school, it was agreed by the school and the parents that, should a student fail (get a grade lower than 80), the student would risk being butchered, cooked, and eaten at the end-of-quarter barbecue.  For a class of 25 or more students, they would select two boys and two girls.  These would be chosen from the students who failed.  It was designed to encourage the other students to do well."
   "If an insufficient numbet of students failed, the parents of a failing student would fill in the gaps.  If two boys and one girl failed, all three students were picked and a mother of one of the three would be selected to fill in for the second girl.  This was designed to encourage parents to take a more involved role in their child's education."
   "In the rare case where, parents included, they still failed to meet the requirements, the school would buy a meatboy or meatgirl from the meat processing plant.  This does not happen often, but it does happen. In fact, it happened this last quarter."
   "Miranda was the only student who failed.  Because of this, both of her parents were selected as well.  So on the last day of the quarter, the teacher made Miranda butcher her own parents and prepare them for cooking.  Then the teacher did the same thing to Miranda."
   Andrew was shocked.  He had heard that this kind of policy was being considered by some schools, but he could not imagine any parents allowing this to go through.  What kind of parents would allow their children to be put in this kind of risky situation? 
   Shaking his head, he looked at Susan.  Without his realizing, she had, sometime during her explanation, started to cry.  Tears were flowing down her cheeks and dripping on his carpet.
   "Hey," he said as he moved to sit beside her, "I am sorry.  I know Miranda was your best friend.  I know she was one of the smartest kids in the class.  Now tell me what happened to her."
   "I really do not know much," Susan said as she wiped tears from her eyes.  "When we started the school year, she was a bit distant.  She was kind of distracted.  When she saw our teacher, she was terrified.  Her grades started to dip.  I didn't realize it though because we studied together all the time and I was doing ok."
   "She was scared when she saw the teacher," Andrew asked.  "Who is the teacher?"
   "A real bitch named Susan Therriault.  Let me tell you, she seemed almost happy to cut into Miranda.  She....."
   Susan stopped talking when she heard a thud.  Andrew had dropped his beer.  The can lay on its side, the contents spilling onto the carpet.
   "Andrew.....your beer," she said.
   "What did you say the teacher's name is," Andrew asked, ignoring the beer on the floor.
   Susan grabbed the can and set it on the table.  Luckily, it was almost empty before he dropped it.  There was not much beer on the carpet and, due to the color of the carpet, Susan did not think a stain would show.
   "Her name is Susan Therriault," she replied.  "Why?  Do you know her?"
   "You could say that," Andrew said sadly, shaking his head.  "She used to be my fiancee."
   "You were engaged to that bitch," Susan asked, shocked.  "I think I just lost a little respect for you."
   "I was," he admitted.  "She really wasn't a bitch, then.  The engagement ended at the end of last June.  She found out I had another lover."
   "You dog," Susan said, her impression of him returning to where it previously was.
   "But I know why Miranda was scared now," Andrew continued.  "You may not have known it, but after the school year ended, Miranda started coming on to me.  Pretty heavily, too.  I don't know how
it got out of control, but I was soon sleeping with her.  Susan found out and got mad.  I decided the best way to handle it was to break off the engagement."
   "And she blamed Miranda," Susan said, the picture now coming into focus.
   "So it would appear.  But it wasn't Miranda.  Well, not only Miranda.  Susan had been getting unreasonably jealous.  She hated it when I spent time with my male friends.  She even accused me of seeing someone else when I had to cancel our date one night."
   "Were you seeing someone else?"
   "No," he replied.  "It was right after midterms and I had to grade all of your papers.  I was swamped with work."
   “But how did she think she could get away with failing Miranda like this?”
   Andrew thought for a moment.  He could imagine a way.  It was sneaky and, if caught, Susan Therriault would be in serious trouble.
   “Tell me about the tests,” he said.  “Not about the contents of the test, but the paper it is printed on.”
   Susan was confused.  She didn’t see where this was going, but trusted Andrew.
   “They are printed on those contract-type forms.  You know, three sheets where the person writes on the top one and the print is transferred to the sheets below.”
   “I do know,” Andrew replied.  “Do you know why they use those?  We didn’t use those in middle school tests.”
   “You’re right,” Susan said, now more puzzled than ever.  “Why do we have to use those?”
   “In a word,” he said, “accreditation.  High schools are like colleges.  For any diploma to have any real value, the schools have to be accredited by the United States Department of Education (USDoE).  To keep that accreditation, the schools have to meet certain requirements.”
   “One requirement,” he continued, “is that the schools must keep all test results on file for five years.  In addition to that, they must send copies to the local USDoE office where they will be kept for future possible audits.  Any school that fails to keep those records, or submit them to the USDoE will lose their accreditation.  That usually causes the school investors to shut down the school.”
   “I see,” Susan said.  “But what does that have to do with Miranda’s tests?”
   “Most teachers use different versions of a test when giving them.  This cuts down on the possibility of cheating.  An unscrupulous teacher could take the top sheet of one test version and attach it to the bottom two sheets of a different version of that test.”
   “I think I get it,” Susan said, the light bulb flashing to life in her mind.  “Susan answered a question correctly on the top sheet, but because the answer was wrong for the problem on the bottom two sheets, the school and USDoE would think she got it wrong?”
   “Exactly.  Now remember: this is just a theory.  To prove it, you would need a copy of Miranda’s tests to compare with the ones on file with the school and USDoE.”
   “But I have those,” Susan said.  “Miranda kept all of her papers.  She liked to use them for future study sessions.  After the barbecue, I went to her house and took all her old schoolwork.  I wanted to know how she could fail while I passed.  I mean, I would have failed if she hadn’t helped me.  She should have had a better grade.”
   “Well, if you have the papers, then it should be a simple matter of comparing them to the ones the school keeps on file.  Talk to your guidance counselor.  Ask them to keep it a secret until you have proof.”
   “Thanks, Andrew.  You give me hope.”
   “I only wish there had been something I could have done to save Miranda from being cooked.  It must have been horrible.”
   “Yeah.  It was.  At least her parents got the pain blocker.  Miranda didn’t so she was in some serious pain.”
   Andrew turned white.  He had stood up in order to get another beer, but his legs suddenly trembled and he sat down, hard.
   “Wh..what did you say?”
   “She was in terrible pain.”
   “She didn’t get the neural inhibitor?”
   “The what?”
   “The injection that shuts down the pain receptors in the brain.  The pain blocker, I think you called it.”
   “No,” Susan said.  “Miss Therriault told her that she could not have it because it would diminish the effect on the other students.  She wanted the other students to see how painful failing is.”
   “Tell me,” Andrew said.  “Did they record this?”
   “The processing?  Yes.  They recorded it and sent it out to all the students’ parents.”
   “They caught her telling Miranda she could not have the injection?”
   “Um, no, actually.  It is funny, but the sound cut out just before that.  My mother thought it was due to camera malfunction.  Why?”
   “Well, every person processed for meat gets that injection unless they specifically request to not have it.  It is considered cruel and unusual punishment to process someone without it.  Susan would be in serious trouble if it were discovered that she denied the injection to someone, even if she was legally able to process her.  Were there any other teachers there during the processing?”
   “Miss Henderson, the Home Economics teacher, was there.  Also, there were some men who worked with the caterers.  They were helping the teachers who had students to process.”
   “Then Miss Henderson may also be in trouble over this,” Andrew said.  “Those cameras rarely fail like that.  It is possible that Susan modified the video to protect herself.  If she did, then she probably kept the original intact.  She is a bit vindictive and would appreciate seeing her nemesis suffer.”
   “If that is the case,” Susan asked, “how do I get the original?”
   “It is probably at her house,” he answered.  “She would not keep something that dangerous at school.  You could break in, but if you did, it would not be admissible as evidence as it was obtained illegally.  The best thing would be to go to your guidance counselor with your evidence and tell them everything.  They can hold her long enough to get a warrant and search the house for the video.”
   “But then, wouldn’t the courts decide what happens to her?”
   “Yes,” he replied.  He saw Susan’s look of disappointment and made an intuitive leap.
   “You want to punish her.  You want to do it yourself.”
   Susan nodded, unable to say it.
   “Well, if you have anything that can turn it into a personal matter, then you may get your wish.”
   “What do you mean,” she asked.
   “Has Susan threatened you or your family?”
   “Well, not directly, but as soon as she found out about Milly, my 10-year-old sister, she petitioned to have siblings put into the selection pool as well as parents.”
“And you think she did it to get your sister in the pool?”
   “Yes.  I have been barely maintaining an 80 all quarter.  If anything causes me to lose it, then we would all be eligible to be selected.  I don’t think I could handle it if Milly was cooked because of me.”
   “What other alternatives do you have?”
   “Well,” she said, “I recently discovered that if I volunteer to become meat for the barbecue at least two weeks prior to the end of the quarter, my family will become exempt.  Miss Therriault will not be able to touch them.”
   “You would be willing to do that?”
   “Sure.  I have always been fascinated with the idea of being cooked.  I almost let myself fail last quarter, but when I found out my parents would be put at risk as well, I went to Miranda to get some tutoring.  She helped me pass with an 80.  That is why I find it hard to believe that she failed.  She did not want to die.”
         “But you do.”
         “I really don’t know.  It fascinates me, and I would be okay with it, but I definitely do not want it to be at Miss Therriault’s hands.”
         “But you want to kill her.”
         “Yes.  After what she did to Miranda and her parents, I want Miss Therriault to die an extremely painful death.”
         “And what about Elise?”
         “Elise?”
         “Susan’s daughter.  Elise is 12.  She would have been my step-daughter if we had gotten married.”
         “What kind of girl is she?”
         “She is sweet.  She and I got along great.  I honestly think she was looking forward to having me as her dad.”
         “If Miss Therriault died,” Susan asked, “would you be willing to adopt Elise?”
         “Of course, as long as Elise was okay with it.”
         “Then maybe we can satisfy everyone.  If I can kill Miss Therriault, I will try to make it so Elise is not involved.”
         “Let’s not jump ahead of ourselves.  You first need to talk to your guidance counselor.”
         “Right.  One more thing, though.  When we bring this up, motive is going to be an issue.  They will want to know why Miss Therriault hated Miranda.  Won’t you get in trouble over having sex with a 16-year-old?”
         “No,” Andrew said, chuckling softly to himself.  “When they changed the rules, making high school voluntary, they lowered the age of consent to 16.  I could only be charged with statutory rape if I have sex with someone 15 years old or younger.”
         “I didn’t know that.”
         “Few people do.  Teachers do because of their interaction with the students.  Legal authorities do because of the law.  No one else was told.  I guess they didn’t want to encourage 16-year-olds to have sex just because they could.”
         “That takes a load off of my mind,” Susan said.  She liked Andrew and did not want him to get into trouble.
         “Well, thanks for all the info.  I will go talk to my guidance counselor and see where we can go from there.”
         “Take care, Susan.  Keep me posted.  And if it works out like you hope, let me know.  I think I would like to be there for the barbecue.”
Susan just smiled as she got up and left.



Monday - 3 weeks before the barbecue

   Richard Killigan was not amused.  He had expected to see Susan earlier than this.  Her grades were almost enough to get her in some serious trouble.  He had not expected her to come with an issue dealing with another student; especially not one that was dead.
   “Let me see if I understand this,” Richard said.  “You are about to fail and want to know about Miranda Atkinson?”
   “Right,” Susan said.  “I want you to look at her work and see if you see the same discrepancies.”
   She handed the tests over to Richard and sat back in her chair as he looked over the tests.  They were math tests; the subject that got Miranda on the menu.  Richard was not overly keen on math so he did not notice the problem.
   “Okay,” he said.  “It looks like she failed her tests.  So what?”
   Susan had prepared for this.  Fishing through her backpack, she took out her calculator.
   “Do the problems she got wrong and tell me what you get.”
   Richard sighed.  Everyone knew that Miss Therriault was tough, but she knew what she was doing.  The look on Susan’s face, however, made him do as he was told.
   “Okay, okay,” he conceded, “the answer to the first one she got wrong is……743.”
   “And she put?”
   “Uh….that’s weird.  She put 743.”
   “Maybe that was a mistake,” Susan suggested.  “Try another one.”
   Her easy way of talking told Richard that he really did not want to try another, but, once again, her look demanded action.
   “Okay.  The next one is……uh……it looks like she got that one right as well.”
   “Keep going,” Susan insisted.
   Ten minutes later, Richard was disturbed.  Some of Miranda’s answers were, indeed, wrong but she should have received a 90 on the test; not a 70.  The other tests Susan had given him were the same.  It looked like the teacher was intentionally causing her to fail.
   “I do not get it,” Richard objected.  “Why didn’t we catch it?”
   “A friend of mine – my homeroom teacher from 8th grade – suggested looking at the copies you have on file.  The marks made by the teacher and student should match up, but the problems would be different.”
   “That could be,” Richard agreed, “but if that were the case, then it would obviously mean that the teacher meant the student to fail.  Why would she do that?”
   “First,” said Susan, “get the tests from her file.  If I am correct about this, I will explain my theory.  I do not want to say anything before that.”
   
   Richard was back 15 minutes later, a folder in his hand.  He was severely disturbed.  If Susan was right about this - if Susan Therriault had killed one of her students - then the teacher was doomed.

   "Okay," he said.  "Let me see those tests again."
   Susan handed them over and watched intently as he compared the student copy to the school copy.  As she had suspected, the ones Miss Therriault marked incorrect had different problems on the school copy.
   After the fourth test, Richard gave up.  Susan had been right.  The marks made by Miss Therriault and Miranda matched up perfectly on the tests.
   "Okay," he said, "you have made your point. It appears that Miss Therriault intentionally killed Miranda and her parents.  Why?"
   "Because of Miranda's lover."
   "What," Richard asked, not sure he had heard Susan correctly.
   "After the end of the school year last year, Miranda started having an affair with our homeroom teacher.  His name is Andrew Wilcox."
   "Andrew Wilcox," Richard repeated.  "Why do I know that name?"
   "Probably because he used to be Miss Therriault's fiancee."
   "What?"
   "Miranda loved Mr. Wilcox but he wouldn't touch her until she was at least 16 years old.  Once she reached that age, she would not be put off.  She pressured him until he gave in."
   "He didn't know what to do," Susan continued.  "He was engaged to Miss Therriault but also had this teenager who was deeply in love with him.  He tried keeping it platonic, but it soon grew beyond his control.  One night he gave in and had sex with her.  During their intercourse, Miss Therriault - who had a key to Mr. Wilcox's house - walked in on them."
   "That must have been a shock," Richard sighed.
   "It was," Susan agreed.  "But there was a bigger shock to come.  Mr. Wilcox had been growing increasingly disturbed when thinking about Miss Therriault.  She had been exhibiting some possessive behavior that bordered on being psychotic.  She was jealous of any time he spent with his friends.  She had even accused him of seeing someone else when he canceled their date due to the need to correct student papers."
   "Anyway," Susan continued.  "When Miss Therriault saw the two of them together, she flipped.  Mr. Wilcox decided he had had enough and called off the engagement."
   "So the jilted bride goes after her former fiancee's lover?"
   "That is what I think happened," Susan replied.  "Tell me something, though.  Is it true that all students that get cooked are given the pain blocker injection?"
   "If you mean the neural inhibitor," Richard said, "then yes.  State and federal regulations mandate that all humans processed for meat get the injection.  Anyone failing to give those injections can be convicted of inhuman processing of meat and, as a result, end up meat themselves.  Because they did not give their victim the injection, they do not get it either."
   "Miranda never got the injection," Susan said.  "Her parents did.  She did not.  Miss Therriault wanted to use Miranda as a warning to the other students how painful failing was."
   "Are you sure about that?"
   "I should be.  Because I had the next lowest grade, Miss Therriault used me as her assistant.  She wanted me to know what would happen to me if my grades did not improve.  Miranda was screaming and crying the whole time.  Miss Therriault had Miss Henderson hand out earplugs."
   "It's Mrs. Henderson.  She is married.  She was there?"
   "Yes.  Mrs. Henderson and four of the men from the catering company were also there.  I do not remember the caterers' names."
   "The fact that Mrs. Henderson was there may actually help you," Richard said.  "She could never handle confrontation and if questioned, she will likely crack under pressure and confess.  That would, however, mean that, as an accomplice, she would also be converted to meat status and be cooked during the next barbecue."
   "I do not care about her.  She was a bitch who helped Miss Therriault torture my best friend.  I do have one question, though.  What would happen to Elise if Miss Therriault were found guilty?"
   "Elise?  Who is Elise?"
   "Elise is Miss Therriault's 12-year-old daughter."
   "I didn't know she had a daughter," Richard replied.  "Well, if Susan is found guilty, she would be cooked - without the inhibitor - and her daughter could become property of the school."
   "Could?  It's not definite?"
   "No.  If there is a relative able to take the child in, the child goes to that relative.  If not, then the child becomes property of the school."
   "What if it was not a relative," Susan asked.  "What if it was someone who wanted to adopt the child?"
   "Stop beating around the bush, Susan.  You have someone in mind.  Who?"
   "Andrew Wilcox.  He was Miss Therriault's fiancee for two years and had a very good relationship with Elise.  Elise was sort of looking forward to having him as a father before the whole thing blew up?"
   "Do you think Elise would go for it?"
   "Given the options, what do you think?  I think she would love to be adopted by Andrew."
   Richard chuckled.
   "I see your point," he said.  "I will look into this more.  I will question Mrs. Henderson to get her side of the story."
   "Thanks," Susan said as she got up to leave.
   "Oh," Richard interrupted before Susan could leave. "One more thing.  Regardless of how this turns out, your grades would likely put you on the menu as well."
   "Thank you for reminding me," Susan said with a smile.  She pulled the volunteer form from her backpack and handed it  to her guidance counselor.
   "What is this," Richard asked, dumbfounded.
   "I am volunteering to be meat," Susan replied.  "I would have become meat last quarter, but then I realized that my family would be put at risk too.  Then this quarter, Miss Therriault succeeded in getting the PTA to accept siblings as well as parents should a student fail."
   "I think she is hoping to cook my little sister, Milly.  I could never accept that, so I dug through the contract and found out that if I volunteer at least two weeks before the end of the quarter, my family is not considered eligible.  The deadline is in three days,but why wait?"
   Richard was shocked.  She wanted to be cooked.
   "You want to become meat?"
   "Yes," she replied.  "A few years ago, my parents took me to a human-meat restaurant.  I saw this beautiful woman being spit-roasted over hot coals and I knew that that was how I wanted to go.  When I heard about the grade policy here, I was ecstatic.  I tried to not be too obvious, which helped when I needed to pull my grades up to save my family."
   "You do realize I will need to have your parents come in to sign their approval, right?"
   "Yes, but again, given their options, I think they will sign.  Right now, I have about a 65.  There is no way to pull it up to an 80 now."
   "Then," Richard sighed, "you will be cooked as well."
   "Excellent.  Now, I have a request."
   "What is it," Richard asked.
   "If I am right about all this, let me butcher Miss Therriault.  I do not care who butchers me, but I want to have the pleasure of gutting that bitch."
   "I think I can pull some strings.  If, that is, you are proven correct."
   "Oh, and one more thing.  Can Andrew Wilcox attend her processing?  He feels terrible that Miranda's death may have been a result of their relationship."
   "We do not normally let non-school personnel witness the processing, but I think we can make an exception here."
   "Thanks," Susan said as she turned and left.

[azalel]

Wednesday - 2½ weeks before the barbecue

   Two days later, Mr. and Mrs. Callowell sat in Richard Killigan's office wondering why they were there.  Richard had called them and said the all needed to meet together.  Sheila was sure she knew, but really did not want confirmation.  She was going to be diasppointed.
   "Before I let you wonder too much about this," Richard said, "you should see this."
   He slid the volunteer form Susan had given him across the table.  Both parents looked on in disbelief.
   "What is this," Jack Callowell asked.
   "It is exactly what it looks like," Richard replied.  "Susan has volunteered to become meat for the quarterly barbecue in two weeks.  Because she is technically a minor, we need your signatures on this form as well.  That will make it legal for her to volunteer."
   "I won't do it," Jack insisted.
   "Oh, I think you will.  And you should really thank Susan for doing it this way.  She is going to be cooked either way.  Currently, she has a grade of 65.  Even if she got 100s on the rest of her tests and homework, the best she could get would be a 76.  She realized this a week ago and volunteered herself.  By doing so, you - her parents and younger sister - are no longer eligible to be processed."
   Jack was stunned.  Sheila was not.  Sheila was pissed.
   "Why didn't her teacher let me know there was a problem with Susan's grades," she demanded.  "What is wrong with that teacher?"
   "Actually," Richard said, "the teacher is not entirely to blame here."
   "Are you saying we are to blame," Jack asked.
   "Not at all.  You may be partially to blame, but that is not what I was saying.  What I was saying was that Susan bears a great deal of responsibility here."
   "What do you mean," Sheila asked.
   "Apparently, a few years ago you took Susan to a special restaurant where they cook women for meat."
   "Yes," Jack confirmed, "and...?"
   "Susan was highly impressed with one particularly beautiful woman who had been spit-roasted.  She has wanted to be cooked ever since.  She actually tried to fail last quarter.  She was doing well until she realized that if she failed, you two could also be processed.  She wants to be cooked, but realizes that if you two are selected with her, Milly will become school property.  Because of this, she worked hard and brought her grade up to passing in order to keep you all safe."
   "Since the last barbecue, however, she discovered this volunteer policy.  This way she can be cooked and you will be safe.  That is what she wanted; for herself to be cooked and for you, your wife, and your other daughter - Milly - to be dafe."
   "She did this on purpose," Jack said.
   "She wants to be cooked," Richard replied.
   "On purpose.  She did this on purpose," Sheila repeated.
   "She wanted you two and her sister to be safe."
   "What can we do," Jack asked.
   "You can sign the form," Susan said as she entered the room.  "I am sorry, Mr. Killigan.  I couldn't take it anymore."
   She smiled as she pulled up a chair.  She looked at her poor, confused parents and nodded reassuringly.
   "I am going to be processed one way or another," she said to her parents.  "This way, you prevent you two and Milly from joining me over the coals."
   "There never was a tutor," Sheila said accusingly, "was there?"
   "No.  There wasn't.  I am sorry about lying to you, but this seemed the only way to get here without hurting someone.  You and dad would never volunteer me.  I could have broken some law and been put in jail until they processed me, but I didn't really want to hurt anyone."
   Sheila nodded wearily.  Susan had obviously thought this out.  She picked up the pen and signed the form.
   "Sheila," Jack asked.  "What are you doing?"
   "Saving Milly," she replied.  "This is obviously what Susan wants.  She found a way of getting it without putting you, me or Milly on the menu.  Let's let her go and give her what she wants."
   Jack was pissed.  He did not like being forced into anything.  He had been pushed into this and he did not like it one bit.  He did, however, have to concede Sheila's point.  Susan wanted this.  She had found them a way out and if they did not take it, all of them could die at that barbecue.  Picking up the pen, he angrily signed his name.  Throwing down the pen, he stormed out of the meeting.
   Susan looked at her mother.  She was terrified.  She had never seen her father that mad.  She wondered if he would ever forgive her.
   Sheila, seeing the concern in the 16-year-old's face reassured her.
   "Don't worry dear," she said to Susan.  "He is mad at you, but that will pass quickly.  He is madder at himself for not being able to prevent this.  By the time you get home, he should be calm again."
   Thanking Richard, Sheila got up and followed her husband.  He would need to talk about this.
   Susan was about to leave to go back to class when Richard spoke.
   "Just a moment, Susan."
   "Huh?"
   "Oh, don't worry.  I just want to tell you what we found out."
   Susan was back in her seat in an instant.
   "What is it," she asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.
   "Well. Mrs. Henderson confessed to everything.  Her statements mirrored yours completely.  On the issue of processing Miranda without the inhibitor, Susan Therriault is definitely guilty.  On that alone, she would be processed."
   "But what about Miranda?"
   "Well," Richard answered, "we did some further checking.  It appears that Miss Therriault had actually passed some male students who should have failed.  Mr. Atkinson should never have been processed.  I can only assume that she did it intentionally to torture Miranda even more."
   "So Miss Therriault will be processed at the barbecue in two weeks?"
   "Yes."
   "Will I be able to do it?"
   Richard just looked at her.  He just could not bring himself to condone letting this girl indulge in her revenge.  Revenge never fixes anything.  It can only cause emotional harm once the anger cools.  Then again, he reminded himself, Susan would likely be dead before she felt any remorse over this.
   "Well," he said, "the school's board of directors was going to refuse you that privelege, but the sheer amount of harm this teacher caused her student caused them to change their mind.  They think it fitting that she die at the hands of one of her students."
   Susan smiled.  That was the best news she had heard all week.
   "Also," Richard continued, "they will allow Mr. Wilcox to attend if he wishes.  He will, by the way, be permitted to adopt Elise if they both wish it."
   "Thank you Mr. Killigan.  When will Miss Therriault find out?"
   "We figured on letting it wait until the day of the barbecue.  Our auditors will go over the tests submitted and the grades of any student who fails will be closely examined to determine if they did indeed fail.  Just don't do anything that might tip anyone off.  We do not want her running."
   "I understand.  Thanks."
   Susan got up and left.



Time Passes
   
   The two weeks passed faster than Susan had anticipated.  She had some tense moments at home, at first, but when her parents accepted that this was her choice, they reached some sort of agreement.  Milly was a little different. 
   Susan and her parents had been completely honest with Milly and told her everything.  Milly idolized her older sister and could not understand why her sister would want to die that way.  Susan tried to explain as best she could.  Milly just did not get it. 
   When asked if she would like to attend the processing, Milly thought about it for a couple of hours.  She said she would as long as Susan did not suffer.  Susan assured her that there would be no pain.  The guidance counselor would see to that.  The school, Mr. Killigan said, did not want to lose another teacher.
   Milly said she would like to be there as long as Susan would be in no pain.  She did, however, want to be able to leave if it got uncomfortable.  Susan agreed and a call was placed to the school.  Mr. Killigan had expected the call and had alreay received permission for Milly to attend.



Monday - 1 day before the barbecue

   The Monday before the barbecue had arrived.   
   Susan Therriault was ecstatic.  Susan Callowell had failed.  There was no way the little bitch would escape this time.  The teacher decided that, now that that bitch, Miranda Atkinson, was dead, no more interference was needed with her students' grades.  If she did it too much, she was sure to get caught.
   Miss Therriault had wanted to talk to Mrs. Henderson to reserve the Home Economics room.  Many teachers wanted to use the room, but had little with which to bribe the Home Ec teacher.  Miss Therriault, being bisexual, had no problems spreading her legs for the lesbian teacher.    Mrs. Henderson, however, had been out for the week.  It was a bad time for her to become sick, Miss Therriault thought. 
   Miss Therriault had only one failing student this quarter; Susan Callowell.  Unlike the others, she apparently did not learn from Miss Atkinson's example.  The boys she passed last quarter did learn.  Not one of them had less than an 85.  It was amazing what a little motivation could do.
   The teacher was not concerned.  With the passing of the measure allowing siblings to be selected, there would be enough meat.  Miss Therriault had seen Milly Callowell at the PTA meeting at the end of the last school year and decided that if Susan Callowell failed, her little sister would join her.  All four Callowells would cook.  They would make a delicious feast.
   Mrs. Henderson or no Mrs. Henderson, Susan Therriault needed the Home Economics classroom.  She left her own classroom and went to the office to reserve the room, if possible.  She was in luck, the secretary was there.
   Karen Ellison, the secretary, saw Miss Therriault entered and quickly smothered her smile.  The secretary had listening devices all throughout the school and knew that Miss Therriault was scheduled to die tomorrow, not that she would ever say anything. 

   "Yes, Miss Therriault," Karen asked cheerfully, "can I help you with anything?"
   "Yes, um, Karen," Susan replied, "I need to reserve the Home Economics room for tomorrow.  We have the barbecue tomorrow and I have a student and her family that will be processed."
   "Ok.  Normally, all reservations need to go through Mrs. Henderson, but she is still sick.  I think I can do that for you."
   Karen made a note on a piece of scratch paper and set it aside.
   "To my knowledge, no one has reserved the room yet so you should be okay."
   "Thank you, Karen," Miss Therriault said as she left the office.  "Have a nice day."
   "You too," Karen replied as she stifled a giggle.  The bitch had no idea.
   
   Miss Therriault went to the teacher's lounge.  She needed to call Susan Callowell's parents.  They, and their daughter, Milly, would need to be at the school for processing by 8:00 the next morning.
   She dialed the number and was pleased when Mrs. Callowell picked up the phone after the 2nd ring.

   "Hello," asked Sheila Callowell.
   "Hello, Mrs. Callowell, this is Susan Therriault.  I am your daughter, Susan's, teacher.  I believe you got a call last week about her grades.  Well, in cases like these, the parents are required to attend as well in case there is a shortage of failing students.  In those cases, the parents may be selected as well."
   "I remember," Sheila said coldly.  "You sent me the video of that other student being processed."
   "Ah, yes, Miranda Atkinson.  Sadly, there were no other failing students and her parents were selected as well."
   "So, Jack and I will need to be there.  What time?"
   "You will need to be here by 8:00.  And bring your other daughter as well.  As a result of the last PTA meeting's vote, siblings are now eligible to be selected."
   "Milly?  You want me to bring Milly?  She is only 12 years old.  She is not old enough to be processed."
   "Normally, yes," Miss Therriault replied, "but when they are the sibling of a failing student, age is disregarded.  If there are not enough failing students, Milly may join her sister."
   Sheila sighed.  She now saw why Susan hated this teacher.
   "Okay," Sheila replied sadly.  "We will all be there at 8:00."
   "Excellent," Miss Therriault said.  "I will see you in the morning, then."
   Miss Therriault hung up the phone.
   "That woman," Sheila said as she hung up the phone, "is in for one hell of a shock tomorrow.  If she thinks that anyone but Susan will be cooked, that is."
   "Who was that, Mom," Susan asked as she entered the room.
   "That was your teacher.  She wanted to remind us that we would be needed at 8:00 tomorrow morning.  She made a point of reminding me to bring Milly."
   "I thought that she would not be able to resist Milly," Susan said.  "Miss Therriault is bisexual and has a thing for eating young girls.  Whenever she sees Milly, I swear she is drooling."
   "That is sick," Sheila said.  "Milly is only 12 years old and that bitch wants to cook and eat her.  She shouldn't even be a teacher."
   "Well, not to worry," Susan said with a smile.  "After tomorrow, she won't be."
   Sheila was confused.  This was the first she had heard that Miss Therriault would lose her job.
   "What do you mean?"
   "Well," Susan said slyly, "I was going to save it for tomorrow, but I guess I can tell you now.  Do you remember that video of Miranda being cooked?"
   "Yes," Sheila said.  "It actually came up in my discussion with your teacher."
   "Well, Miss Therriault orchestrated the whole thing.  Miranda should have passed, but Miss Therriault gave her rigged tests.  The top sheet, the one we keep, had different problems than the other two sheets.  Because of that, Miranda failed."
   "Why would she do that?  Did she do it to any other students?"
   "Nope," Susan replied. "As to why, Miss Therriault hated Miranda.  I didn't know it, but after the last school year ended, Miranda started having sex with Mr. Wilcox.  I knew she was fixated on him, but I didn't realize that it was that bad."
   "And...?"
   "Well, Mr. Wilcox was Miss Therriault's fiancee.  Miss Therriault found out and went psycho.  Mr. Wilcox had had enough and called off the engagement.  To get revenge, Miss Therriault failed Miranda so she could cook her."
   "It was extremely illegal.  I found out about it and investigated it.  Mr. Killigan and I were able to verify by comparing the school's copies of the tests to Miranda's copies.  I had stolen them after Miranda was cooked.  I wanted to know how she could fail when she helped me pass."
   "So it was discovered that Miss Therriault cooked Miranda illegally?"
   "Yes, but that is not all.  Miss Therriault did not give Miranda the neural inhibitor.  Instead, Miranda was given a stimulant that would keep her alert throughout the processing.  She felt every bit of the pain inflicted on her."
   Sheila was shocked.  That was in violation of the measure passed last year.  Any student processed was to be processed the same way as any volunteer; painlessly. 
   "What?"
   "Miss Therriault told the class that she wanted the other students to see how painful it is to fail.  What I think is that she just wanted to cause Miranda as much pain as possible.  The video that was sent out was modified to prevent the parents from hearing Miranda's screams of pain.  If you look closely, though, you can see that she is in pain."
   "Because of this, Miss Therriault will be processed and cooked tomorrow," Susan said as she smiled.  "Because she did not give the inhibitor to Miranda, Miss Therriault will not get it either."
   "You seemed pleased by this."
   "Hell yes, I'm pleased," Susan confirmed.  "That bitch killed my friend.  When she discovered I had a little sister, she pushed through that measure condemning the siblings of failing students.  I think she did it intentionally so she could get her hands on Milly.  Hell yes, I am pleased to be able to kill her tomorrow."
   "What," Sheila demanded, shocked.  "You are going to process her?"
   "Yes.  I requested it as a favor.  It's like a reward for exposing a corrupt teacher."
   "And they agreed to let you do it?"
   "Yes.  Two things helped.  One: her apparent desire to cook Milly.  She was the reason that Miss Therriault proposed the sibling selection plan.  The other was that Miranda and I were best friends and they felt it would be fair for me to take revenge on the killer of my best friend."
   "How are you going to do it?"
   "Well," Susan said, "the caterers are going to bring in a portable grill.  I was thinking of having her grill her own tits. We will use the threat of cooking Elise - her daughter - if she fights us."
   "You are going to kill her daughter," Sheila asked.  She was not pleased with the idea.  She was not sure how she would handle watching her 16-year-old daughter sadisticly butcher a 12-year-old.
   "No," Susan replied with a smile.  "Elise is going to be adopted by Mr. Wilcox.  They will be there tomorrow, to watch Miss Therriault get cooked. But neither of them will be hurt."
   "And how will she handle seeing her mother killed?"
   "Actually, I think she is looking forward to it.  Apparently, Miss Therriault was a real bitch to Elise.  Elise was born when Miss Therriault was 15 years old.  Miss Therriault had to drop out of school and give birth"
   "Elise's grandparents were going to raise her while Miss Therriault went back to school, but they were killed in a car wreck when Elise was four months old.  With the grandparents dead, Miss Therriault had to drop out of school, again, and become a full-time mother."
   "Miss Therriault resented her daughter.  Apparently, she could have been a doctor or lawyer, but the amount of missed school killed that dream.  She felt that Elise had ruined her life and made sure Elise knew it.  As a result, Elise feels no real love toward her mother."
   "When Mr. Wilcox was engaged to Miss Therriault, he and Elise got to know each other quite well.  He was looking forward to having her as a daughter.  She was just as excited to have him as a father.  Now, with Miss Therriault out of the picture, they can have that relationship."
   Sheila was relieved.  At least her daughter was not going to kill a little girl. 
   "It sounds like you have some painful times in store for your teacher."
   "Hell, yes.  She is going to be begging me to kill her before I am done.  Just like Miranda begged her.  I will have a little less than 3 hours to do as I wish with her.  They will be the worst 3 hours of Miss Therriault's life."
   "I have to say, dear," Sheila said, "that I cannot say I approve of that.  If it gets to be too much for me, your father, and Milly, would you mind if we left?"
   "No, mom," Susan answered with a smile, "I wouldn't mind.  I understand that you have never seen this side of me.  And you can take heart in the fact that after tomorrow, you will never see it again.  I had never hated anyone in my life until I saw what Miss Therriault did to Miranda, and what she had planned for Milly.  I need to release this anger and hatred before I die, mom.  I will release it by making Miss Therriault go through the kind of hell she imposed on Miranda.  You may not want to see it.  I can understand that.  I ask only one thing.  They will have to start preparing me around 11:00.  If you do leave, please be back by then.  I want my last moments to be with my family."
   Sheila did not know when she had started crying, but tears were now freely flowing from her eyes.  She had not realized how much pain her daughter had been in since Miranda's death.  True, she had been unusually quiet, but Sheila had attributed that to Susan focussing on improving her grades.  Now she understood.
   "I understand, Susan," Sheila said.  "We will do our best to watch, but if we do have to go, we will be back before you get processed.  We want one last chance to say goodbye, too."
   Susan smiled.
   "Thanks, mom."
   Susan went upstairs to take a bath and Sheila went to prepare dinner.  She wanted her daughter's last meal to be the best ever.
   


Tuesday - Barbecue day

   Tuesday morning came.
   Susan Therriault woke at 5:30 and took her morning shower.  She was really looking forward to today's events.  Susan Callowell had disregarded her warning at the end of the last quarter and now she would pay. 
   Miss Therriault was also ecstatic that she would also get the 12-year-old sister.  As she had done with Miranda, she would process Susan's family first.  It would be highly entertaining to watch Susan butcher her little sister. 
   It was disappointing that she would have to use the neural inhibitor.  Another teacher had been caught processing a student without it and was processed for the board of directors' monthly meeting 8 weeks ago.  Miss Therriault had got away with processing Miranda without it, but she did not want to risk it again.
   Well, despite the fact that there would be no physical pain, there should be plenty of emotional pain.  Imagine butchering your little sister and parents.  And imagine knowing that they were dying not because of something they did, but because you caused it.  Susan Callowell was going to be full of misery.  Death would be a welcome release when she finally died.
   These thoughts passed through Susan Therriault's mind as she showered and dressed for the day.  Looking at her clothes, she frowned.  She would love to wear something she wouldn't mind destroying after it got bloody. 
   She hated having to strip down in front of the little perverts in her class.  She just knew they were masturbating while thinking about her at night.  She hated teaching the little shits, but teaching was the only thing she could do now. 
   She had wanted to be a doctor or lawyer, but no.  She got pregnant and had her bitch of a daughter.  The little bitch ruined everything.  She had to take care of the little shit instead of going back to school.  By the time she got back to school, she had forgotten so much, her grades dropped.  She managed to get a scholarship at a school for teachers and went for that.  It was the only way to support the little leech.
   Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, Miss Therriault tried to calm herself down.  This was going to be a fun day.  While watching the 12-year-old die, she would imagine doing it to Elise.  With that happy thought, Miss Therriault finished dressing and left for school.

   Breakfast at the Callowell house was a quiet affair.  No one said anything.  Susan noticed, however, an inordinate number of glances directed at her from her mother, father, and little sister.
   She knew they were trying to forget the fact that she would be dead by this afternoon.  Rather than force them to deal with it now, she remained silent.  She finished her cereal and looked at the clock.  It was 7:00.  Time to go.
   
   "Okay," Susan said to her family, "time for me to go.  I will see you all there around 8:15, right?"
   "Yes," Jack said, obviously uncomfortable with the calm demeanor Susan showed to her impending death.  "We will be there, honey."
   "Susan," Sheila said, "are you sure this is what you want?"
   "It is too late to back out now," Susan replied, "but yes.  This is what I want.  I have dreamed about it since I read about it in the school contract.  The only thing I regret is hurting you with my selfish actions.  I am sorry about that."
   Jack and Sheila could see that Susan was struggling a bit.  She obviously needed them to forgive her for this.  Sheila looked at Jack and he nodded.  They had talked about this the night before.
   "It's okay, sweetie," Sheila said.  "It really is.  All a parent wants is for his or her child to be healthy and happy.  Between the two - for your father and me - your happiness is more important.  If this makes you happy, then we are happy."
   "Thanks, mom," Susan said as tears of relief came to her eyes.  "You have no idea how much better that makes me feel."
   "Your mother is right, kiddo," Jack said.  "Your happiness is all that matters here.  Now go and make that fucking bitch pay."
   All three women (Sheila, Susan, and Milly) were shocked.  Jack never swore in front of his kids.  To do so now could only mean he was extremely angry at Miss Therriault.
   "You bet, dad," Susan said with a smile as she left for the school.

[azalel]

Preparations

   It was 8:00.
   Susan sat at her desk waiting for class to begin.  She did not have to wait long.  Miss Therriault entered the classroom with her usual smile.

   "Good morning, class," Miss Therriault said.  "I hope you are all doing well.  Today we have a special class lined up for you.  If you remember, at the end of last quarter, we barbecued Miranda Atkinson and her parents because she failed to maintain a passing grade.  That, of course, was after a special biology lesson."
   "We sent a video of that lesson to your parents.  It was supposed to incite you students to do better in class.  With one exception, it worked fantastically.  You all did wonderfully.  Well, all but the exception.  Stand up, Susan."
   "Susan Callowell is the exception.  She, even after being warned, ended with a 58, a full 22 points below the cutoff.  As a result, she will be processed and barbecued for the dinner tonight."
   "Just like last time," she continued, "we have only one failing student. As a result, her parents and sister will be joining her.  John, bring them in."

   John Mitchell, one of the caterers, led the Callowells into the classroom.  Jack and Sheila had explained everything to Milly so, even though she was not scared, she put on an impressive display of terror.  She started crying as they dragged her into the room.
   At first, Susan was afraid her sister was really scared.  A well-disguised smile from her little sister, however, let Susan know it was an act.  Greatly relieved, she turned back to her teacher.

   "We are going to go to the Home Ec room for this lesson," Miss Therriault was saying.  "It will be messy and I really do not want to make this room a mess.  Everyone, follow the Callowells."

   Five minutes later, everyone was in the Home Economics classroom.  It was bigger than the normal classroom.  There were ovens built into the walls.  There were sewing stations in the corners. 
   In the center of the room was a huge oven that had a stove top that had 12 burners.  The oven, itself, was 9 feet wide. It could be used to roast any person who was lying down inside.
   There was another giant stove built into one of the walls.  It was 5 feet wide and 6 feet tall.  The clear glass door slid to the side, into the wall, to open the oven.  The glass door could take temperatures up to 1000 degrees fahrenheit.  There was no risk of the door melting or warping, obscuring the view of whatever was cooking inside.

   "Okay, class," Miss Therriault said when all the students were present, "we will begin.  Susan, please take off your clothes."
   "This is it," Susan thought as she started to strip.
   "Ok," Miss Therriault said.  "Jack, Sheila, Milly?  You need to take off your clothes as well."
   Jack, Sheila, and Milly did nothing.  They just watched Susan disrobe.  She seemed to be having fun with it, bending over and purposefully flashing her teenage pussy at the boys in the class.
   "Jack," Miss Therriault said tersely, "I said that you, your wife, and your daughter should remove your clothes."
   "We heard you," Jack said.  "We just do not want to do as you say."
   "John, Stephen," Miss Therriault said, "secure the Callowells and remove their clothes."
   The two caterers did not move.
   "John, Stephen," Susan Callowell said, "secure Miss Therriault and cut off her clothes.  In fact, rip those clothes to shreds.  They look expensive."
   One of the caterers, Stephen, grabbed Miss Therriault and held her motionless as his partner used a pair of shears to destroy the teacher's clothing.  Miss Therriault was in shock.  She could not understand what was happening.  Before she knew it, she was nude in front of her class, again, and still held motionless by Stephen.
   "What do you think you are doing," she demanded.
   Susan wasted no time.  She walked up to the teacher and, with a balled fist, struck the older woman in the stomach as hard as she could.
   "Shut the fuck up, bitch," Susan said with a snarl.  "This is not your class anymore.  Any more fight from you and we will butcher your daughter, Elise, as well."
   Miss Therriault glared at her student.
   "You think I care about that bitch," Miss Therriault asked.  "You can do whatever you want to my daughter.  I don't  fucking care.  But I am a teacher.  You can't touch me."
   "Oh, mommy," Elise said as she and Andrew Wilcox walked into the room, "I am so sad to hear you say that."
   "And as for you being a teacher," Andrew said, "that ended this morning.  The board of directors fired you."
   Miss Therriault just gawked at her daughter and former fiancee.
   "What are you two doing here?"
   "I can answer that, Miss Therriault," Richard Killigan said as he entered the room.
   "Richard?"
   "Good morning," Mr. Killigan said.  "A few weeks ago, Susan there, came to my office with some pretty convincing evidence that you had fraudulently failed one of your students.  I didn't want to believe it, but when faced with the sheer amount of evidence, we launched an investigation."
   "It appears," he continued, "that you tampered with Miranda Atkinson's tests.  She thought she was taking one test when the one the school received was a different test.  Why she never brought it to the school's attention, I cannot guess.  I can only assume you had her convinced something worse would happen if she complained."
   "Then there was the matter of how you processed her.  As you know, every person processed for meat is given a neural inhibitor injection.  We know that you did not give one to Miss Atkinson.  Your partner in crime confessed to everything.  Ahh, here she is now."
   The classroom door opened and Mrs. Henderson was dragged in by two burly caterers.  She, too, was completely nude, the clear water leaking from her asshole showing she had just had an enema.
   "I'm sorry, Susan," Mrs. Henderson was saying to Miss Therriault.  "I had to tell them everything.  They were going to process my two little girls and my husband.  I couldn't let them do that."
   "I hate to admit to being wrong," Mr.Killigan said, "but I was wrong when I said everyone processed for meat gets the neural inhibitor.  Anyone who processes someone for meat without giving the injection is found to be guilty of a crime against humanity.  They are then processed without the injection to show them what their victim felt."
   "Now even though Mrs. Henderson was not directly responsible for Miranda not getting the injection," he continued, "she helped you cover it up.  As a co-conspirator, she will be processed without the injection as well.  Miss Callowell, they are all yours."
   "You can't do this," Miss Therriault objected.  "Susan Callowell failed.  She and her family should be processed."
   A look of disgust crossed Mr. Killigan's face.
   "This is why you failed as a teacher.  This punishment is designed to convince students to do better.  That is it's only purpose.  You were using it for your own twisted enjoyment." 
   "And, for your information," Mr. Killigan continued, "Susan did not fail.  Her courses are considered incomplete.  She volunteered herself two weeks prior to the end of the quarter.  That relieves her parents of their responsibility for her grades.  They cannot be selected."
   "I, however," Susan said, "will be processed.  I wanted it last quarter, but then I found out that you would likely select my parents as well.  I couldn't have that.  Miranda - my best friend, by the way - helped me pull my grades up to passing."
   "That is why I couldn't believe that she failed.  The day after the barbecue, I went to her house and stole her stuff so I could have something to remember her.  When I found her tests, I checked them.  You marked problems wrong when she had them correct."
   "I checked with another student, one who aced the class, and found I was right.  Miranda was given a lower score than she deserved.  I just couldn't figure out why.  I went to talk to my old homeroom teacher....."
   "Me," interrupted Andrew.
   ".....and found out about the affair Miranda had with him.  I also found out that you blamed Miranda for ending your engagement to Mr. Wilcox.  Then it all came clear.  I just had to notify the school and get confirmation."
   "Which she got from me," Mr. Killigan said.  "Pretty good investigative work on her part, I thought."
   "Which brings us up to this moment," Susan said.  "You were found guilty of murdering Miranda and her parents.  The board of directors, grateful to me for exposing you before you caused them any more embarrassment or legal problems, rewarded me by allowing me to process you and Mrs. Henderson.  I think the made the right decision."
   Miss Therriault was defeated.  She hung there in Stephen's grip and pissed herself.
   "It's not my fault," she screamed.  "That bitch, Miranda, caused Andrew to breakoff our engagement.  It was her fault.  She had to pay."
   "It was not Miranda's fault," Andrew said.  "I was thinking of breaking it off before then.  You were becoming too possessive.  You were always jealous of my friends and my work.  The only reason I stayed was Elise.  She needed someone to talk to and she couldn't talk to you."
   "So now," Elise said, "I get my daddy after all.  After you die today, mommy, he will adopt me."
   Miss Therriault struggled in Stephen's arms.  This was intolerable.  Everything they said was true, but it could not end like this.  There was no way she was going to allow some little 16-year-old bitch cut her up.
   "Miss Therriault," Susan said, "now that we have finished the preliminaries, I need you to calm down so we can get started.  Any more struggles and I will really hurt you.  You don't want that."
   "Fuck you, you little bitch," Miss Therriault snarled.
   "Stephen," Susan said, "please lay her hand on the table there and spread her fingers."
   Stephen did as he was asked.  Susan approached witha meat mallet.  It was about 6 inches long and made of wood.  Smiling at her former teacher, Susan brought the mallet down on the woman's pinky with all her might.
   "Aieeeeee," Miss Therriault shrieked, her pinky broken.
   "Aw, dammit," Susan said, looking at the mallet.  It had broken under the force of the blow.
   "John," she asked, "could you go to the woodshop and get me a real hammer?  This wooden crap is useless."
   John ran from the room to retrieve the hammer.
   "I warned you," Susan said to Miss Therriault.  "You are actually lucky.  I meant to obliterate your finger instead of just break it.  I could have broken it with my bare hands.  Don't worry, though.  When John gets back with my hammer, we will see how cooperative you can be."
   "Susan," Elise asked.
   "Yes, Elise?"
   "I understand what you are doing.  And why.  I can even approve of it.  I just cannot watch it.  Do you mind if I go to the library?"
   "Uh.....me too," Milly said.
   "Sure," Susan said with a smile.  "Go ahead.  I will be processed aroung 11:00.  That will be in.....um....two hours.  I would like Milly to be here if possible, but I understand if you do not want to watch me hurt you mother."
   "I don't care about my mother," Elise said to Miss Therriault's dismay, "but I am a bit squeamish when it comes to torture."
   "I understand," Susan said.  "Thanks for coming, though.  Anyone else want to leave?"
   No one responded.  They may not like watching anyone else tortured, but they really wanted to see this bitch of a teacher pay for her crimes.
   "Good," Susan said after Milly and Elise left.  "Then we will continue."
   John came back with the hammer.  Susan tested its weight in her hand.  She could swing it easily.
   "Thanks, John," she said as she turned back to the teacher. "Now, Miss Therriault, are we going to have more problems?"
   "I don't know who you think you are," MissTherriault breathed heavily, "but the teachers will file complaint after com......"
   "I guess we are," Susan said.
   Without another word, she knelt down and brought the hammer down on Miss Therriault's big toe with all her might.  The teacher tried to scream, but no noise came out.  Then, she fainted.
   "Dammit," cursed Susan.  "I forgot the stimulant."
   Mr. Killigan, anticipating this, produced the needle from a pocket in he jacket.
   "Thanks, Mr.Killigan," Susan said as she stripped the protective cap from the needle.  She jabbed the needle into Miss Therriault's neck and pressed the plunger, emptying the needle into Miss Therriault's bloodstream.
   "That will take about 5 minutes to take effect," Mr.Killigan said, "but after that, she will be conscious until the end.  I have another for Mrs. Henderson, if you like."
   Susan looked at Mrs. Henderson for a minute.  The plump Home Ec teacher had helped Miss Therriault torture Miranda, but was not ultimately to blame.  Susan knew Mrs. Henderson was easily intimidated and could imagine Miss Therriault bullying her into submission.
   "No," Susan said.  "Mrs. Henderson is not really the villain here.  Her crime is one of cowardice.  I think she was bullied into cooperating with Miss Therriault.  Didn't you say she cracked easily under pressure?"
   "Yes," Mr. Killigan said thoughtfully, "I did.  Are you recommending what I think you are recommending?"
   "I think so.  I want her to have the neural inhibitor.  As an accomplice, she deserves to be processed, but I do not want her to suffer.  Miss Therriault is the only one who deserves the pain I intend to inflict."
   "Well, the board of directors did say you were in charge, so I will do as you wish."
   He got a needle from a tray in the corner and injected it into Mrs. Henderson's neck.
   "Do you want yours as well?"
   "Actually, yes.  I do not want any accidents to cause me to lose focus should I get hurt."
   Mr. Killigan got another needle and injected Susan as well.
   "Thank you, Susan," Mrs. Henderson cried.  "Thank you."
   A minute later, Miss Therriault regained consciousness.  Her toe hurt abominably.  She suddenly remembered where she was.  Stephen was no longer holding her.  They had brought in a frame similar to the one she used on Miranda. 
   She was firmly bound, but she could still easily move her head.  Taking a deep breath, she looked down.  Her big toe on the left foot was a peculiar shade of purple.  The skin had broken and was slowly bleeding.  Sadly, she would not bleed to death from that wound.  They were really going to let Susan Callowell torture her.
   "Ah," Susan said as she noticed movement from Miss Therriault, "you're back.  Excellent.  I would not want you going into shock, depriving me of the pleasure of inflicting as much pain on you as you inflicted on Miranda." 
   "Sadly," Susan continued, "you do not care as much for anyone as Miranda did so emotional pain is going to be minimal.  I will just have to make up for it with physical pain.  Luckily, I have been researching that." 
   "You might have noticed my apathy in class these last two weeks.  That is because I have been studying ways of inflicting pain without causing lethal damage.  I had no time for studying."
   "Anyway, you have had enough time to recover from the toe incident."
   Turning to the class, Susan smiled.
   "Miss Therriault was right.  This is a special class.  The topic is pain and the human body.  As Miss Therriault was so kind the last time, I will repeat her kindness.  There are earplugs in the box by the door.  I would recommend using them.  They will mute the sound a bit without blocking it completely.  You will hear everything, but your eardrums will not be at risk."
   As she spoke, John wheeled in a portable grill.  Sheila was surprised.  Had Susan been serious yesterday?  Was she going to make the teacher grill her own breasts?
   "Beautiful," Susan exclaimed.  "It's here.  Thank you, John.  Now, if you and Stephen would remove Miss Therriault from the frame, we can get started.  We may need you to help her support her, so please stick around."
   John nodded.  He plugged the grill in and went to remove Miss Therriault from the frame.  It took a few minutes as Miss Therriault fought them.  She seemed to understand what the grill was for.
   "Now, now," Susan admonished.  "Fighting will not help you.  If you do not do as you are told, I will pulverize another toe.  And another; and another; until you do as you are told.  If I run out of toes, I will cut them off and then start on your fingers.  Then, I will do to you what I want you to do to yourself.  It would be best for you to cooperate."
   Remembering the pain of the toe's destruction, Miss Therriault paled.  She would do much to avoid that pain.  She did not doubt for a moment that Susan would do just as she said she would.  Susan would be happy to have a reason to cause more intense pain.
   "What do you want me to do," Miss Therriault asked.
   "I want you to kneel in front of the grill," Susan replied, "and place your breasts on the bars.  With one arm, you will press them down as hard as you can to allow the meat to cook thoroughly.  John and Stephen will be there to help hold you steady."
   "You want me to cook my breasts?"
   "Yes.  And remember; if you do not, I will destroy your toes and fingers.  Then, I will tie you to that grill and cook them myself."
   Miss Therriault sighed.  She knelt in front of the grill.  It was already hot.  The bars on the grill were glowing a menacing red.  She slowly placed her breasts on the grill. They had been on for less than a fraction of a second before the pain hit.  Miss Therriault howled in pain and pulled back.
   "Oops," Susan giggled.  "I forgot to warn you.  That grill will be really really hot.  Try to bear it."
   Miss Therriault just glared at Susan.  Susan made a motion indicating that Miss Therriault should get her tits back on the grill.  The teacher had no other option.  A look around the room showed that no one had any sympathy for her. 
   Taking a deep breath, she lowered her breasts back onto the grill.  The pain hit immediately, but Miss Therriault did not pull back.  The pain was bad, but still not as bad as when the little bitch destroyed her toe.  The pain was starting to recede.  She was getting used to the heat.  Then she got another shock.
   "Wait," Susan cried.  "Get her off of that."
   John and Stephen pulled Miss Therriault to her feet.  The pain as the skin was yanked from the bars was tremendous.  Miss Therriault howled like a banshee.
   "Sorry," Susan apologized unconvincingly as she tried to stifle a bout of giggles.  "I forgot the oil.  We gotta oil up your tits or they will stick to the grill."
   Susan produce a bottle of cooking oil and gave it to Miss Therriault.  The older woman just looked at her student.
   "Well, come on," Susan encouraged.  "The longer you wait, the worse it will get.  Or do I need to get my hammer again?"
   Cursing under her breath, Miss Therriault removed the top from the bottle of oil and started massaging the oil into her swollen, semi-cooked breasts.  The skin, tender from the heat of the grill, sizzled under the oil and caused excrutiating pain.  Miss Therriault swore to herself that if she met Susan in hell, she would kick the little bitch's ass.
   After she was done oiling up her breasts, Miss Therriault looked at Susan.  At the girl's indication, she placed her breasts back on the grill.  The pain was back.  If anything, it was even a little worse.  The only positive thing was that, as promised, the skin was not sticking to the grill.
   "Okay class," Susan said, "those should take, what, about 5 minutes?"
   Mrs. Henderson nodded.  She had cooked breasts before, while still attached, and 5 minutes sounded about right.
   "Okay, so in about 5 minutes, Miss Therriault will cut off her breasts and serve them to everyone."
   Miss Therriault looked up in disbelief.  The little bitch couldn't be that evil, could she?  Then she considered her toe, her pinky, and her cooking tits and realized that, yes, Susan could be that evil.
   Five minutes passed and Miss Therriault was hauled to her feet.  She was led over to the central oven where a cutting board had been placed.  A large butcher knife was on the table and the teacher considered grabbing it and attacking Susan.  One look at John and Stephen was enough to crush that pleasant little fantasy. 
   She picked up the knife and slowly cut through her left breast.  She was surprised to find that, while she felt some pain, it really wasn't that painful. She finished with the left breast and set it on a platter.  She then did the same to her right breast.
   "If any of you noticed the lack of pain whe Miss Therriault removed her breasts," Susan said, "this is why.  After cooking for 5 minutes, the nerves were dead.  The pain sensors were no longer sending signals."
   "The nerves closer to the ribs, however, are still alive.  That is why she felt some pain.  Just watch, and I will prove it."
   Susan picked up a canister of table salt and poured some into her hand.  She went up to Miss Therriault, who was still stunned by what she had just done to herself, and ground the salt into the raw flesh of the teacher's chest where her left breast used to be.
   Miss Therriault shrieked in agony and tried to pull away.  The two caterers were right there and grabbed the teacher, preventing her from escaping.  Susan repeated the act on the right half of the teacher's chest.  The shrieks were so loud that Susan, herself went to the box to retrieve a pair of earplugs.
   Returning to Miss Therriault, Susan glanced at her parents.  Seeing the stony look on her father's face made her begin to question her actions.  Maybe she was going too far.  Then she saw him nod once and she relaxed.  He might not like what she was doing, but he did see that it was appropriate.
   By this time, the pain had receded a bit and Miss Therriault was merely sobbing quietly.  She was still able to stand on her own, which was a good thing.  She would need to be able to walk to serve her tits to the class.
   "Miss Therriault," Susan asked facetiously, "are you able to continue?" 
   The teacher calmed herself and nodded at the demon teenager.
   "Good.  Then pick up that knife you used to sever your breasts and cut your breasts into, oh, 30 even pieces.  That should be enough for everyone to have a piece."
   The teacher hesitated, but then saw Susan pointing at the hammer.  At least cutting up meat not attached to her anymore would not hurt physically.  This must be the emotional pain Susan had been talking about.  Miss Therriault picked up the knife and began cutting.
   Three minutes later, the teacher was walking around the room passing out slices of her breasts to her former students.  The students loved them.  The cooked breastmeat was delicious.
   Approaching the Callowells, Miss Therriault held out the platter.
   "Thank you, Miss Therriault," Sheila said.  "I can only assume you wanted to do this to me and my daughters, right?"
   Miss Therriault just stared at the platter, not lifting her eyes.  This was intolerable.  She was supposed to be eating these people, not the other way around.  Damn that Susan for finding out about Miranda.
   Jack Callowell said nothing.  He just glared at the teacher as he took his portion of the teacher's breasts.  Miss Therriault turned to walk away, but Jack stopped her, lightly grabbing her arm. 
   Turning her to face him, he gripped her chin and forced her to look at him as he devoured what used to be her breast.  Once he was finished devuring the meat, he let her go.  Turning to his daughter, he caught her attention and nodded approvingly.
   Miss Therriault finished distributing her breast slices to everyone and noticed that there was one left.  She looked at it questioningly.
   "That one," Susan said, "is for you.  Now, eat it."
   The teacher no longer questioned it.  She just popped the piece of meat into her mouth and began chewing.  To her surprise, it was utterly delicious.  She felt a bit of shame in liking the taste of her own meat.
   "Okay," Susan said with a smile, "on to the next part.  John, Stephen, you know what to do."
   Indeed, they did.  Each caterer took an arm and a leg.  Lifting the teacher up, they lowered her ass and pussy to the grill.  They then held her down so her tender pussy meat would cook first.
   Miss Therriault howled again and again.  She thought that Susan would pull her off again to apply the oil again.  She was wrong.
   "For those of you who are concerned that her pussy might stick to the grill, don't worry.  I took a few moments while she was serving you to replace the original iron grill with this non-stick teflon grill.  It conducts heat just as well, but does not cause meat to stick."
   "The pussy will take about 5 minutes to cook," Susan continued.  "Her ass will take 10 minutes.  Once her pussy is done, John and Stephen will reposition her so her ass cooks evenly."
   Miss Therriault was in tremendous pain.  The men were grinding her clitoris right onto one of the bars.  The pain was beyond anything she had ever felt.  She would have gladly traded all her fingers and toes to get off that grill.
   She finally got some relief, 5 minutes later, when the men shifted her onto her ass.  Then her ass started to cook and the pain was back with a vengeance.  She reminded herself that it would only last 5 more minutes.  Five more minutes and she would be off this fucking grill.
   The remaining 5 minutes passed and the teacher was hauled off of the grill.  Susan was not going to let Miss Therriault have the knife again.  The teacher might decide enough was enough and try to shove the blade into her chest.
   "Now that her pussy and ass are done," Susan said, "I will cut them out and serve them."
   She went to the teacher and made four cuts around the pussy; one across the mound, one each down the sides, and one underneath.  She reached into the teacher's pussy and winced.
   "Damn, that's hot," she cursed.
   Grabbing tongs, she gripped the pussy and gave a strong yank.  The pussy came free with a slight ripping sound.  Miss Therriault screamed in agony.
   "Oops," giggled Susan.  "I guess that the inside had not really finished cooking."
   Susan turned to Mr. Wilcox.
   "You like rare meat, right, Mr. Wilcox?"
   Andrew chuckled as he nodded.  Susan brought the mostly-cooked pussy to him on a plate.
   "Enjoy," she said as she gave him a knife and fork.
   "I will," he replied.  "I always did like eating her pussy."
   The boys and girls murmured nervously, some openly laughing.  Andrew had the good grace to blush for his indelicate remark.
   "Sorry," he mumbled as he started to eat.
   Susan went back to her teacher and cut off the two ass cheeks.  She carefully cut one into equal halves.  She gave the full one to Mr. Killigan.
   "Thank you for helping me expose Miss Therriault," Susan said to her guidance counselor.  "I couldn't have done it without you."
   He nodded and began eating as Susan took the halved ass cheek to her parents.
   "Here you go," she said to her mother and father.  "I wanted you to have more of that bitch before we finish with her.  Seeing as she meant to eat all of us, I think it is fitting.  I wanted to give you more, but I would like you to save room for some of me later."
   Her parents smiled and accepted their plates.  They had to admit that Susan definitely knew how to entertain a crowd.  The students, they saw, were riveted.  Noting the red light beside the camera by the door, they decided to see if this was being filmed.
   "Are you filming this," they asked as they got to Mr. Killigan.
   "Yes," he replied.  "We hope this will persuade other teachers to go strictly by the book.  Why do you ask?"
   "Will you also record Susan's processing?"
   "Yes.  This will be for the school's records.  As she is a volunteer, Susan's processing will not be sent out to the parents.  Again, why do you ask?"
   "We think we would like copies of everything," Jack said.  "I cannot explain it, but I would really like to have copies of these."
   Richard nodded knowingly.
   "I can understand.  These are her last acts.  Dispensing a form of justice and giving herself to her parents and classmates.  I will see to it that you get copies.  Andrew, over there, also wants a copy."
   The Callowells nodded and went over to talk to Mr. Wilcox.
   Susan had returned to Miss Therriault.  Thanks to the stimulant, she was still wide awake and aware.
   "Kill me," Miss Therriault begged.  "It is too late to save me.  Just kill me and get it over with."
   "Oh no," Susan said.  "For all the pain and suffering you caused, this is not enough for you.  You were going to kill me.  You were going to kill my parents.  You were even going to kill my little sister, you bitch.  I will let you know when I think you have had enough.  You will welcome death as if it were the greatest gift anyone could offer."
   Miss Therriault started crying.
   "I.....I....I'm sorry," she sobbed.
   Susan did not answer.  She just balled up her fist and punched her fist into the opening created when she removed the woman's pussy.  The teacher howled in pain as the teenager pulled her uterus and ovaries from her body.
   "Okay, class," Susan said.  "This is Miss Therriault's uterus and ovaries."
   She placed the organs in a stainless steel bowl.  Then reaching in again, she pulled out the woman's intestines.  Once the intestines were completely hanging out, Susan took a knife and, reaching in very carefully, severed the loops. The intestines were put into a waste bucket. 
   She then removed the colon, stomach, liver, kidneys, bladder, and everything else but the heart and lungs.  She moved very quickly as she did not want the teacher to die before she was done.  Once everything was removed, she used the surgical sealant to stop the internal bleeding.
   Looking as Miss Therriault, Susan realized how close she had come.  The teacher had almost died.  Susan couldn't have that.  Now that the bleeding was stopped, Miss Therriault revived a little.
   "Oh no," the teacher groaned, "I'm still alive."
   "Yep," Susan said cheerfully.  "Still alive and kicking.  In fact, in a few minutes, you should be ready for more fun."
   While she waited for Miss Therriault to recover a bit more, Susan separated the digestive tract from the other organs she removed.  The stomach, bladder, and colon joined the intestines in the trash.  Everything else went into the stainless steel bowl. 
   She took the bowl over to the counter.   Retrieving the hand grinder and the stuffing Mrs. Henderson prepared earlier that morning, Susan ground up Miss Therriault's organs letting the ground up meet fall into the stuffing bucket.
   Looking over at Miss Therriault, Susan saw the teacher was still not quite back yet.  She decided to go to work on Mrs. Henderson while Miss Therriault recovered.  Waving to the plump Home Ec teacher, she motioned the older woman to come over.
   "I thought about this all night," Susan said to the Home Ec teacher, "and I was wondering if you would mind if you were roasted in that tall overn over there."
   Mrs. Henderson, who had been secretly entertaining a fantasy of being broiled in an oven, brightened immediately.
   "Really," she whispered to Susan.  "I wouldn't want anyone else to know, but I have secretly wanted to be cooked that way for years.  It is a fantasy of mine."
   Susan, understanding that few would understand how anyone could want to be cooked, nodded.  Thinking about her own fantasy and how she had to hide it, she felt a strange sort of kinship with Miss Therriault.
   "I will have to gut you," Susan said, "but the inhibitor should prevent you from feeling pain."
   "I know.  It will be messy.  I would recommend doing it in the teachers' lounge next door.  There is a shower there and the blood could just flow down the drain."
   "Actually," Susan said, "I was thinking about the table there.  You will be lying on your back and I will use the sealant to prevent blood loss."
   "Oh," Mrs. Henderson said, "that would work.  So do we do this now?"
   "Yes.  It looks like it will take a little more time for Miss Therriault to come around."
   "Another injection of the stimulant would help.  One side effect of the injection is that it speeds up blood reproduction."
   "That would help," Susan said.  "Let me go talk to Mr. Killigan.  In the meantime, why don't you go shower in the teacher's lounge.  You would feel more prepared if you were clean, right?"
   Mrs. Henderson left to go shower.  John followed to make sure she did not run away.  Susan did not think it would be necessary, but better to be safe than sorry.
   "Mr.Killigan," Susan said as she approached her guidance counselor, "you said you had anothe stimulant injection?"
   "Yes," he replied, "but it is too late to give it to Mrs. Henderson.  The inhibitor is stronger and she still will not feel anything."
   "No," Susan said, "it is not for her.  It is for Miss Therriault.  Mrs. Henderson mentioned that one side effect of the stimulant is that it greatly speeds up blood reproduction.  She thought that would help Miss Therriault recover faster."
   "It might, but you should know.  She doesn't have much left.  And you are running out of time."
   Susan looked at the clock.  It was 10:15.  She hadn't realized that so much time had passed.
   "Damn," she said.  "We should have enough time.  Mrs. Henderson is showering.  And, yes, Stephen was paying attention to the time.  He is good."
   Richard looked over to where Susan pointed.  Stephen had pressed a button on the sentral oven and a cooking surface had been ejected from the base of the oven.  It was a burner about 30 inches across.  On it was a giant pot about 3 feet wide and three feet deep.  The burner was turned on and water was heating.
   "What is that," Richard asked.
   "Soup pot."
   "You're going to boil her into soup?"
   "Yep," Susan said.  As you said, she does not have much left.  Right now, the water is being kept at hot tub temperatures.  Once she is in there, the temperature will be increased until the water is boiling.  That should kill her."
   Richard had to admit, Susan seemed to know what she was doing.
   At that moment, Mrs. Henderson came back.  Susan had Mr. Killigan administer the stimulant injection as Susan led Mrs. Henderson to the table.
   "We do not have much time," Mrs. Henderson said.
   "I know," Susan said.  "I am going to have to hurry.  Do you mind if I ask my mother to help?"
   "Not at all, dear.  I was terrified of this, but you are making this very easy on me.  Letting your mother help out is the least I can do."
   "Thanks," Susan said.  "Just get comfortable and we will be right back."
   Mrs. Henderson laid back as Susan ran over to her parents.
   "Mom," Susan asked.  I am running out of time and I need help.  Can you help me?"
   "Of course, dear.  What do I need to do?"
   "Well, I hate to say it, but you will need to strip down and join me at the big table over there.  I need you to oil Mrs. Henderson's limbs and upper body while I gut her."
   Sheila didn't even hesitate.  She immediately stripped off her clotes and followed her daughter to the table with the plump Home Ec teacher.
   Susan got to work immediately.  She opened Mrs. Henderson from just below the ribcage to just about the pubic mound.  She quickly removed the digestive tract and threw it away.  A spray of the sealant and she continued removing the other organs. 
   Susan ground up the liver, kidneys, uterus, ovaries, and all other organs except Mrs. Henderson's heart and lungs.  She mixed the ground meat with the stuffing and Miss Therriault's meat.  She then stuffed Mrs. Henderson's abdomen and sewed up the older woman's stomach and pussy.
   While Susan got the cooking platform, a circular iron plate with a 30-inch spike in the center, Sheila finished oiling the Home Ec teacher.  John and Stephen carried Mrs. Henderson over to the oven and guided the spike into the woman's anus.  Susan had oiled it so it slid right in.
   When Mrs. Henderson was bound in a kneeling position on the platform, the spike came up to just below her heart and lungs.  No one wanted her to pierce her heart of lungs accidentally.  Susan uncharacteristically kissed the Home Ec teacher on the cheek.
   "Thank you," Susan said, "for coming clean about what Miss Therriault did.  I really appreciate it.  Now just relax and  enjoy this.  I know you want to.  Goodbye."
   "Goodbye, Susan," Mrs. Henderson said.  "Thanks again for making this so easy on me.  I knew when Mr. Killigan approached me that he knew about Miranda and I knew I was going to die painfully.  I am so thankful that I was wrong.  Thank you again.  I hope you enjoy your processing as well."
   They slid the woman into the oven and, when the glass door slid shut, set the temperature to 200 degrees.  When Mrs. Henderson was dead, they would raise the temperature and let her finish cooking.  Susan looked at the clock.  It was 10:30.  She looked nervously at Mr. Killigan.  He smiled back.
   "I got you a reprieve," he said as he approached.  "Because you are going willingly, we only need about 30 minutes to prepare you for the spitting.  You now have about an hour to finish with Miss Therriault."
   "Thank you," Susan said as she kissed him.  "I was really scared there for a moment."
   Susan walked over to Miss Therriault.  The teacher was fully alert again. 
   "Good to see you awake again," Susan said.
   "What now, you little bitch," asked Miss Therriault.
   "Well," Susan said, "I was going to have a couple of the boys fuck you like you had Miranda fuck her mom and dad.  The problem, though, is that you have no pussy now.  And with no ass cheeks, no one wants your bony ass.  You're a fucking lousy fuck now."
   Miss Therriault started to cry.  Susan was right.  No matter how beautiful she had been in the past, she would never be beautiful again.
   "But then," Susan continued, "I thought of a solution.  Time for class participation."
   Susan called the boys over to the table.
   "Well, boys, I know you were likely jerking off while thinking of Miss Therriault's bady after the last barbecue.  Now, I would like you to jerk off again.  This time, however, I want you to cum on her face."
   One boy was too shy to pull his dick out in front of the girls and went back to sit down and watch.  That left 10 boys.  Those ten had no problem following Susan's instructions and, to Miss Therriault's humiliation, her face was soon completely covered in the sperm of her former students.
   Susan was not done.  She then called the girls over.  John brought a stepladder over.
   "I thought it only fair to offer you a chance to have fun as well," Susan said to the girls.  "Miss Therriault is a mess.  I don't want to touch her, but I need to finish up soon.  I need you to clean her up.  I would like you girls to climb up on the table and piss on her face to wash off that sperm.  Can you do that?"
   Surprisingly, 9 of the 11 girls agreed that they could.  The first girl removed her panties, climbed onto the table, raised her skirt, and let loose a heavy stream of piss right into her former teacher's face.  By the time the other 8 were done, there were no traces of sperm anywhere.  Susan looked at the clock again.  It was now 10:55.
   "John," Susan said, "you saw where Mrs. Henderson took her shower, right?"
   John nodded, knowing where this was going.  Without a word, he pulled on some rubber gloves.
   "Please take Miss Therriault there and clean her up.  We will need her back here in 5 minutes."
   "That will be no problem, Susan," John said with a smile.  He grabbed Miss Therriault and dragged her from the room.
   Susan went to the oven.  Mrs. Henderson had been cooking for 25 minutes.  She was still alive, if barely.  Seeing Susan approach, Mrs.Henderson smiled weakly.  She was apparently enjoying it.
   Susan was about to turn away as she saw the cooking woman's head droop.  After a minute more without further movement, Susan opened the oven and, using a meter, discovered Mrs. Henderson had died.  Closing the oven door, Susan raised the cooking temperature to 450 degrees.  At that temperature, the Home Ec teacher should be fully cooked in four hours.
   Susan then went to the soup pot and checked the temperature.  The water temperature was 115 degrees.  Looking at the central table, she saw Stephen had been busy.  Whils Susan had been tending to Mrs. Henderson and checking on the soup pot, he had cleaned the table of al residue.  There were no traces of cum or piss anywhere.
   Stephen had excellent timing, too.  Just as he finished, John brought Miss Therriault back into the room.  Placing her on the table, John and Stephen looked to Susan for instructions.
   "Tourniquets," Susan said.
   The two men, understanding completely, put tourniquets on the teacher's arms by the shoulders and legs near the hips.  They then stepped back and waited.
   Susan picked up a huge meat cleaver and approached the teacher.  At a look, the two men grabbed the teacher's left arm and held it out.  Susan smiled and looked down at her teacher.
   "Say goodbye to your left arm," Susan said. 
   Eithout waiting for a response, she raised the cleaver high and brought it crashing down hard on the exposes arm, just below the tourniquet.  It took two strikes, but the arm was quickly severed.  Susan tossed it in the soup pot.
   Moving to the right arm, the procedure was repeated.  Soon there were two whole arms floating in the hot water.  Miranda used the sealant on the two stubs and the bloodflow ceased.
   Moving to the left leg, Susan smiled.
   "You will never walk again," She said to the screaming teacher.  "Now, say goodbye to your legs."
   It took five strikes to sever the leg, but it, too, was soon floating in the pot.  Susan quickly repeated the process on the right leg and, with all four limbs in the pot, the teacher now sobbed quietly.  Susan quickly used the sealant on the leg stumps and the tourniquets were finally removed.
   Susan looked to the clock again.  It was now 11:10.  She had 20 minutes left.  Barely enough time.
   Looking down at her wreck of a teacher, Susan smiled.  MissTherriault was a wreck.  She had no pussy or ass.  She had no tits and no limbs.  Revenge was sweet.  Picking the teacher up, Susan carried her to the pot.
   "I only have one thing left to say to you, Miss Therriault," Susan said as she slid the woman into the hot water.  "Now, you have had enough."
   Susan turned the burner up to high to allow the temperature to increase.  She ignored her former teacher's cries of agony.  With luck, Miss Therriault would be dead before 11:30.
   Elise and Milly had returned around 11:05.  They had arrived just in time to see Susan cut off Miss Therriault's legs and dump her in the soup pot.  Elise was surprised that seeing her mother lose her legs did not bother her.  She began to wonder if she would have been better off staying to see the whole thing.
   Seeing Elise's agitation, Andrew walked up to her.
   "If you want to see what happened," he said, "they will be giving me a copy of it all on DVD.  You will be able to watch it if you want.  In the meantime, why don't we go say goodbye to your mom?'
   Elise nodded and they approached the pot.  Elise's mother was still alive, but with no legs, she was hardly kicking.  Seeing her daughter and former lover approach, she scowled at them.
   "You let that bitch do this to me," she accused weakly.  The heat was getting to her and she would not last much longer.
   "No, mom," Elise said.  "Your own actions brought you to this situation.  If you hadn't killed that girl, you would be there.  But, I don't want to fight.  You will be dead soon and I just wanted to say goodbye."
   Miss Therriault looked as if she was going to say something, but her eyes closed and she died without another word.
   "Sorry, mom," Elise said.  "Better luck in the next life."
   They turned and walked away.  Susan approached after seeing the two leave.  Seeing that Miss Therriault was dead, she smiled.  Now it was her turn.  She looked at the clock.  It was 11:25.  She made it.

   "Susan," Mr. Killigan said, "it's time."
   "I know," Susan replied.  "Do we do it here, or do we do it outside?"
   "Here is fine."
   "Okay," she said.  "I'm ready."
   The guidance counselor walked up to the teenager and led her to the table.  Susan laid down and relaxed herself.  She was extremely excited; and nervous.  She had received the inhibitor injection but she was still a little scared.  Thinking back on Mrs. Henderson, though, she realized it would not hurt and she relaxed a bit more.
   "Do you have any last requests," Richard asked.
   "I'm kind of embarrassed to say it," she replied, "but I am extremely horny.  If he is willing, I would like Mr. Wilcox to fuck me.  Do we have time for that?"
   "We can make time.  Let me go talk to him."
   She watched as Richard walked over to Andrew and the two men talked for a few minutes.  Andrew blushed a deep scarlet and looked down at Elise.  The 12-year-old just looked up to her soon-to-be father and nodded.  The two men returned to Susan.
   "Are you sure you want this in front of everyone," Andrew asked his former student.
   "Yes.  There is no more time to worry about modesty.  Are you okay with it?"
   "I think so," he said looking down at his crotch.  A tent had already formed there.
   Susan smiled and slid off of the table.  Turning around, she bent over.  Andrew removed his pants and stepped up behind the teenager.  After fingering her slit, he realized that she was ready to go.  He slid his penis into her and she shuddered in pleasure.
   Andrew started pumping in and out.  He had not had sex since he had last slept with Miranda.  He had masturbated, of course, but that did not even compare to the pleasure he now felt.  After about 10 minutes, he blasted his load into the 16-year-old.
   The problem was that, after the initial shudder, Susan still had not reached climax.  She was hornier than ever.  Looking pleadingly at Andrew, she groaned her frustration.
   "More," she begged.  "I need more."
   "What can I do," Andrew asked, his penis rising again.  "Let me know what you want."
   "I am sorry," a highly-embarrassed Susan said, "but one does not seem to be enough.  Can you fuck my ass and have Mr.Killigan fuck my pussy at the same time?"
   "I do not think that would be a problem."
   Andrew waved Richard over and explained the situation.  Richard smiled and shook his head in disbelief.  Looking at Susan, he nodded.
   "Be careful, Andrew," Richard said.  "She has not been stretched.  Use plenty of cooking oil and go slow.  When you are fully inserted, I will enter her pussy."
   Andrew nodded and turned Susan around.  Susan bent over and spread her ass cheeks as Andrew pushed the nozzle of the cooking oil bottle up the young girl's ass.  He squeezed hard sending a large amount of oil up her ass.  Taking the bottle out, he squirted some oil in his palm and coated his cock with it.
   Jack Callowell, curious about what the other two men were doing to his daughter, came up to get a closer look.
   "What's going on," he asked.
   "I need to be fucked," his daughter replied, her frustration apparent in her voice.  "I am so fucking horny, I might die before they spit me."
   Jack smiled.  He could understand the poor girl's situation.  Watching her deal with the teachers had given him a huge erection.  Susan noticed and smiled up at her father.
   "Dad," she said as Andrew kept massaging the oil into her ass, loosening her up..  "During the last barbecue, Miss Therriault touched on a good topic.  She said that incest was not bad.  She said that the only reason it could be dangerous is that when two family members have sex, they can pass on negative genetic issues more easily than people who are not related."
   "That is right," Jack said.  "A narrow geen pool caused more genetic defects."
   "Miss Therriault said that, as Miranda would die before she could have kids, there was nothing wrong with her having sex with her father.  I hated Miss Therriault, but I thought she made a good point.  I will never have kids. Instead of Mr. Killigan fucking my pussy, will you do it?"
   Jack looked up at Richard.  Richard just smiled and nodded.
   "But what about Mr. Killigan," Jack asked.
   "It's okay....." Richard began.
   "Well," Susan interrupted, "if he would be okay with it, I will give him a blowjob while I am being fucked by you and Andrew."
   The three men looked at each other.  As far as last request go, it was the weirdest one they had ever heard before, but they were not about to disappoint Susan.
   "Okay," Jack agreed.  "It looks like Andrew is ready to go.  Are you ready?"
   "Yes.  Do it."
   Andrew stood and, after rubbing his cock to spread the oil over it again, inserted his cock into his former student's asshole.  It sunk its full length all at once.  Susan, thanks to the inhibitor, felt no pain, but she felt extremely stuffed.  Andrew picked Susan up, his cock still buried in the girl's ass, and turned around, presenting her pussy to her father.
   Jack looked at Sheila and Milly.  Seeing them smile and nod at him, he quickly removed his clothes and shoved his erect penis into his daughter's dripping pussy.  He and Andrew worked out a rhythm where Andrew would insert his cock as Jack was withdrawing his. 
   The pumping motion was working.  Susan was becoming more aroused by the minute.
   "Come on, Mr. Killigan," she said.  "Get over here."
   Richard walked over, climbed up on the table and presented his erect cock to Susan.  Not wasting a moment, Susan lowered her mouth over it and started licking the underside of the shaft.  As she pulled back, she would tickle the head with her tongue.
   "You've done this before," Richard said.
   "Umph," Susan said as she nodded her head slightly, trying to avoid hurting her guidance counselor.
   Jack was a little surprised that his daughter had been sexually active but decided that it really did not matter as long as she was not hurt by it.  He continued his rhythm with Andrew and felt his orgasm beginning to build.  Looking at Susan, he realized she was not too far off, either.
   Andrew knew about Susan's past experience, a boy in the eighth grade.  He was a decent kid.  Soft-spoken, but polite, he was always hanging around with Susan and Miranda.  Miranda was the one who had told Andrew about her friend's escapades.
   Having come once already, he was still a little way off from coming, but the sensation of Jack's penis rubbing up against his made it a little more arousing.  He realized that he might have been wrong as he also began to feel the pressure building up in his penis.  A few more minutes and he would be done.
   Richard was getting the best blowjob of his life.  This girl really knew how to use her mouth.  It was incredible.  If he hadn't experienced it, he never would have believed someone so young could give head like that.  It was just too good.
   "Oh, oh, oh," he moaned as Susan sucked on him.  "Susan," he said, "I am going to come real soon.  If you do not want it in your mouth, you'd better stop."
   "Mmph," Susan said as she continued, not slowing a bit.
   "Oh, oh, ohhhhhh........" Richard said as he came, sending his load down the 16-year-old's throat.
   "Yum," Susan panted heavily as she let the wilting penis slide from her mouth.  "Thanks, Mr. Killigan."
   That was too much for Andrew and Jack.  Seeing the young girl swallow another man's seed caused them to reach climax.  They both inserted as the same time as they released their sperm into the girl's ass and pussy.
   "Ahhhhhhh......." screamed Susan as she reached her own climax, feeling the two penises pulsing inside her.  She trembled fiercely as her orgasm wracked her body with pleasure.
   The girl's movement caused the two men to continue flooding her body with cum.  After a moment, all three of them calmed and were able to breath again.  Susan, held between her father and former teacher, began to sob.
   "Hey," her father said.  "What's wrong?"
   "Nothing," Susan said with a cheerful smile.  "That was the best feeling ever.  Nothing could ever top that."
   Jack now saw that the tears were tears of joy, not sadness.  Feeling relieved, he held his daughter tightly.
   "Don't scare me like that, kiddo.  I thought I had hurt you."
   "You could never hurt me," Susan said.  ""I know you love me too much for that."
   

[azalel]

   "Sorry to be indelicate, here," Mr. Killigan said, "but we need to get you going, Susan."
   Jack was instantly resentful, but seeing his daughter smiling at Richard reminded him that Susan wanted this.
   "No problem," Jack said.  "Thanks for giving us this time."
   Richard just smiled.  Jack and Andrew put on their pants and went back to their families.  Susan got back up on the table, but Richard shook his head.
   "It would be better to clean you out.  Let's go to the teacher's lounge and take care of that, okay?"
   "Okay," Susan said as she got up again. 
   Walking to the door, she understood what Richard meant.  She could feel the men's sperm leaking from her pussy and ass as it started to run down her leg.  They continued to the lounge as Andrew addressed the class.
   "Okay, kids," he said.  "They will be gone for about 10 minutes.  If any of you need to run to the restroom, do it now."
   Several kids left.  The looks on some of their faces let him know that they would be masturbating rather than taking care of other needs.  He smiled.  At least he didn't have to masturbate.
   "Did that feel good," Elise asked as she came up to her father-to-be.
   "Actually, yes," Andrew said uncomfortably.  "It felt great."
   That was the only negative, he thought.  He was fucking Susan while being watched by Elise.  He was not too sure he liked the idea of performing in front of a 12-year-old.
   "Was what she said true?"
   "What do you mean," Andrew asked as he got a drink of water.
   "Is incest okay if no children can be born or if the relation is not too close?"
   "Well," Andrew said, "I have never studied it, but I do know that people who have extremely similar DNA could have children with genetic weaknesses."
   "But," Elise said, "because you are not my biological father, we are not that similar, right?"
   Andrew choked on his water and Elise laughed.
   "Oh," she giggled, "don't be silly.  I do not mean I want to have sex now.  I am not old enough.  But when I am 16, will you think about it?"
   "We will see," Andrew said as he began to seriously wonder what he had gotten himself into.
   Further discussion was interrupted by the return of Susan and Richard.  Susan walked to the table and laid back down.  Her parents smiled at her.
   "Okay, Mr. Killigan," Susan said, "now, I am ready."
   "Yes," Richard answered as he removed his clothes, "you are."
   Picking up a sharp knife, he made two 8-inch horizontal cuts on Susan's body; one across her chest just below her breasts, and one just above her pubic mound.  He made a third cut down the center of her abdomen, just avoiding her belly button.  After spraying the cuts with the sealant, he opened the flaps, exposing Susan's internal organs.
   "Wow, this inhibitor works great," Susan said.  "I can feel the cuts, but there is no pain."
   Richard smiled at Susan and went back to work.  He got a stainless steel bowl and a plastic trash bin before continuing.  He worked fast and carefully.  Soon, Susans's digestive organs were in the bin while her liver, kidneys, uterus, ovaries, and everything but her heart and lungs were in the stainless steel bowl.
   Richard retrived the bucket of stuffing, and place it below the grinder.  Quickly, he ground up Susan's organs, adding them to the mixture.  Grabbing a wooden spoon, he stirred the stuffing so it was evenly mixed.  Then he returned to Susan.
   "We are almost done with the preparations," he said as he started stuffing the 16-year-old's abdomen.
   "I know," Susan said.  "Thank you for everything."
   "You are very welcome.  I am just sorry you had to go through all that with Miss Therriault."
   "Well," Susan said, "she is dead and cannot hurt anyone else.  I am satisfied with that."
   Richard finished stuffing Susan and started to sew her up when he noticed stuffing leaking from the girl's asshole and pussy.
   "Hehe," Susan giggled as she realized his mistake.  "Miss Therriault had warned Miranda about that while Miranda was preparing her mother.  You need to sew up my pussy and plug up my asshole.  A carrot should work well as a plug.  You can either shove it in when you spit me or you can take it out first."
   "Hey," Richard objected jokingly.  "Cut me some slack.  Although I have seen this done a few times, this is my first time doing it myself."
   Susan just continued to laugh as he sewed up her pussy and went in search of a carrot.  Finding the vegetable, he returned and inserted it deep into Susan's rectum.
   "Now," Susan said, "You can finish stuffing me."
   "You could have told me about that earlier," John said.
   "I am sorry.  I forgot, too."
   They both laughed as Richard finished his stitches.
   "Now," Richard said, "all we need to do is get you outside to the spitting rig and run you through."
   "And then I go over the coals."
   "Correct.  Are you ready?"
   "Yes.  Can I walk or do you have to carry me?"
   "I think you can walk if you like," he said.  "Otherwise, I am sure John and Stephen would have no problem carrying you."
   "I'll walk," Susan said as she slid off the table.  She almost stumbled, but Richard caught her.
   "Oh yeah," she said.  "I have no stomach muscles anymore.  Can you help me?"
   "Certainly," Richard responded.
   "No," Jack and Sheila said.  "We will help her walk.  Please lead the way, Mr. Killigan."
   Richard led them outside and to the spitting rig.  Right beside it were the hot coals and the y-frames that would hold the spitted meat 3 feet above them.
   "I know you want this," Sheila said to her daughter, "but we will miss you terribly."
   "I know, mom," Susan said.  "But this is all I've wanted for years.  I would like you to be happy for me, but if you can't, then please forgive me."
   "We can be happy for you, kiddo," Jack said.  "We are happy for you."
   "That's right, sis," Milly said as she followed her parents and sister.
   They arrived at the rig and Susan was strapped into it.  Once she was firmly secured, the rig was folded into a 90-degree angle, exposing the 16-year-old's asshole.
   Milly, Sheila, and Jack each kissed Susan goodbye.
   "Bye, sis," Milly said, "I hope it is everything you hoped for."
   "Goodbye, kiddo," Susan's father said as he gave her a deep kiss.
   "I love you, dear," Sheila said as she kissed her daughter.  "I am so proud of you."
   "Thanks, everyone," Susan said to her family.  "I love you all and appreciate you letting me go like this.  Goodbye."
   Susan's family joined the class and watched as one of the caterers came up behind Susan.  He had a 9-foot steel spit, all oiled and ready to be used.  He shoved the carrot the rest of the way into Susan's ass and, placing the point of the spit against the girl's asshole, waited for Richard's signal to begin.
   "This is it, Susan," Richard said.  "Any last words?"
   "Yes," Susan said.  "Don't forget to cut a breathing hole in my throat after the spit goes through.  I want to die over the coals, not by suffocating."
   "Thanks for the reminder," Richard said as he inwardly cursed himself for forgetting that.  "I won't forget.  Goodbye, Susan.  It has been an extreme pleasure knowing you."
   He nodded to the caterer and the spit began its journey through Susan's body.  While the spit was moving through her, Richard retrieved a small, sharp knife.  One of the caterers handed him a metal ring.
   "It is heat resistant and will not burn her throat," the caterer said with a smile.  "It will help her stay alive as long as possible."
   "Thanks," Richard said as he returned to Susan.
   Susan took a deep breath just as the spit reached her throat.  A moment later the tip emerged from her mouth.  Seeing the tip, the caterer hurriedly pushed the spit the rest of the way through and tipped Susan so Richard could perform the tracheotomy.
   He cut a small hole in her windpipe and inserted the metal ring to hold it open.  Susan let out her breath and started breathing normally again.  After a moment, she winked at Richard to let him know everything was okay.  He let out a sigh of relief and motioned for the caterers to continue. 
   The caterers placed a spike through a hole about 18 inches from the end of the spit.  They then drove Susan's ankles onto each end ot the spike before tying them together with cooking twine.  Then, one of the caterers fastened the 12-inch stabilizer rod to the spit and shoved it into the girl's pussy.  Susan's hands were tied at the wrists and fastened to the stabilizer rod in front of her.
   "With her hands in front," Richard asked one of the caterers, "won't that prevent her pussy from cooking?"
   "Yes," the caterer said, "but this is done for her pleasure.  While she is rotating over the coals, she can finger herself to orgasm as many times as possible before she dies.  Once she is dead, we will untie her hands and retie them behind her."
   Richard was impressed.  He now understood why the school would trust no other caterers.  These men cared about the people who were becoming meat.  The people were treated with respect and dignity.  Richard appreciated that.
   Once Susan was secured to the spit, she was placed over the coals.  The class was sent back to the classroom and told to use the afternoon as self-study.  Richard, Andrew, Elise, and the Callowells watched as Susan turned over the coals, furiously masturbating until she died.  By Sheila's count, Susan had 5 orgasms over the coals before she died.



The Barbecue

   Susan Callowell's head sat on a spike as the centerpiece of one of the picnic tables..  Her eyes were closed and a smile was on her face.  Her face had never changed from her reaction to her last orgasm.  Mr. and Mrs. Callowell sat at the picnic table and enjoyed their meal.
   "Susan really had great meat," Sheila said as she bit into one of her daughter's tits.     Jack agreed as he took a bite of the other tit.  As Milly had never had human meat before, her parents gave her Susan's pussy.  Milly was not sure she wanted it, but was not willing to let anyone else have it either.
   "Go on," Jack said to Milly encouragingly.  "I am sure you will love it.  Just cut off a piece or just pick it up and take a bite.  Either way is fine."
   Milly shrugged as she picked up the meat.  Closing her eyes, she took a bite.
   "Wow," she said after savoring the flavor for a moment.  "This is really good."
   "Told you," Sheila said.  "Now eat up.  It is almost time for the soup."
   "Did someone say soup," Andrew asked as he wheeled the soup pot over to the Callowell's table.  "Ask and you shall receive.  Now, who's first?"
   "Me," Jack said as he reached for a bowl.  "no bones in this, right?"
   "Right," Andrew said.  "We strained it and added the meat after separating it from the bone."
   "Excellent," Sheila said as she received her bowl.
   "I don't normally like soup," Milly said.  "But I would like to try a little of this soup."
   Andrew chuckled as he gave Milly her portion and went on his way.  A moment later, Richard sat down at the table.  Without a word, he handed an envelope to Sheila.
   "What is this," Sheila asked as she began to open it.
   "A token of our appreciation," Richard responded.
   Susan finished opening the envelope ant took out a check.
   "Twenty-five thousand dollars," Sheila asked incredulously.
   "Well, $5,000 of that is the remaining tuition you paid for Susan to attend this school.  The other $20,000 is the board of directors' way of thanking Susan and you for exposing a criminal in their midst."
   "But Susan didn't do it for money," Jack objected.
   "And the board knows that," Richard replied.  "But they do feel obligated to you and felt this was one way they could show their appreciation for everything Susan did."
   "Thank you, Mr. Killigan," Sheila said.  "Would you like to join us?  They are about to bring out Mrs. Henderson."
   "I would be honored," he replied.

The End

[warlady21]

Oh wow! That was great! Willing and unwilling. Justice and Revenge! Detective work and twists!

I loved it!

[azalel]

Thanks.  I am glad you liked it.  Was not really sure a sequel would work, but I did not like the teacher in the first one and needed to resolve that.

[warlady21]

you resolved it very well.

do it again!

[t'Sade]

I agree, it was a very nice resolution to the other story. I like it when the bitches get it in the end.

[luiscypher]

I have zero to say about how this story is structured save to say: OUT FLIPPING STANDING!

Fabulous!

I might have to steal the idea from you, Azalel... it kinda fits into my idea of how Canada would be like in the Gynophagia Chronicles