The Last Field Trip

Chapter One, Intro and First Exhibit (Non-Con, Watersports, Young)

I was laying in my bed on a Saturday morning when I was roused from my sleep by the sound of my phone ringing. Grunting, I held up one arm to shield my unadjusted eyes from the sun's ray's bleeding through my blinds while my other arm reached for my phone, to determine the identity of whoever it is that has deigned to interrupt my rest. It was Nick, My own Brother, Nick, who had committed this grievous sin of waking at this ungodly hour of 11:42.

“What do you want Nick?” I grumbled upon answering the phone.

“Oops, did I wake you? Must have figured the time zone wrong, thought it was almost noon for you.” He replied, sounding to me more that a little sarcastic.

“Shut up,” I said. “Now you gonna get to the point or should I just hang up?”

“Alright alright” He said. “You know how I was asking you for advice on engagement rings a couple weeks back?”

“Yeah...” I replied cautiously.

“Well last week I proposed to Stacy, and she said yes.”

“Oh my God! Congratulations!”

“Yeah, thanks, anyway, she's been jumping right into brainstorming wedding plans, and she had an idea that I liked.”

“Well? Out with it already.”

“We were thinking that you and her sister would make a good centerpiece for the recital dinner, and were wondering if you were down for that.”

Feeling myself quickly become aroused at the thought I said “Ohh, that does sound hot, but I dunno, any thoughts on how you'd cook us?”

“Nothing's set in stone yet, but one idea we had was to spit roast you both on the same spit, facing each other with your mouths pressed together. Kind of a parody of the whole 'Together til death do you part' thing.”

“Oh man” I said, my free hand having wandered south and was now rubbing my pussy over my panties. “That sounds really hot, you've convinced me, I'll do it.”

“Great! I'll tell Stacy. Thanks for doing this she'll love it.”

“Glad I can be of help to you both on your special day, congratulations again.”

“Thanks, well I should get back to it, you should probably get out of bed and enjoy your Saturday, you're not gonna get too many more of those,” He joked.

“Idiot,” I said halfheartedly, before ending the call.

Putting my phone down I looked at my reflection in the full length mirror mounted on the wall across from my bed. My long brown hair was a mess and I had been sleeping in just my panties so my full breasts were on display. My face was flushed and my nipples hard from the conversation I had just had. Cupping my breast with one hand I imagined my brother and his new wife cutting into it together as I lay there, dead and thoroughly cooked. My other hand wandered down into my panties and I imagined the spit going into it, first just like any girthy dildo, but then going even further, tearing into me, irreversibly damaging me, before emerging from my mouth, then quickly being joined by Stacy's hot sister, a petite blond girl of 16. Together we're slowly rotated over an open fire as the wedding guests chat and dance. I came. Breathing heavy I pulled my hand from my panties and thought about what I should do today. Belatedly I thought about the 7th grade class I'm the homeroom teacher for.

“I should probably send the principal an email, I hope it's not to hard to find a new teacher in the middle of the year” I thought to myself.

Quickly I drafted an email detailing the need to seek a replacement teacher. Upon sending the email I looked up, and seeing myself in the mirror again I soon became overpowered by arousal once more. Fantasizing about my own impending death I masturbated myself to orgasm twice more before finally getting out of bed and starting my day.

The following Monday, before class, I was sitting at my desk drinking my coffee when I received an email from the principal asking me to come in whenever I had time, to discuss my “early retirement”.

I still had some time before class, so I went to his office and stuck my head through the open door.

“Ahh, come in Ms. Brooks, sit,” the principal said.

“You needed to speak with me?” I said once seated.

“Yes, Unfortunately it is the case that we simply cannot find a replacement for you at this time.”

“What do you mean you can't find anyone?”

“It's just too late in the school year, and we're already dealing with a shortage of capable staff in our district. I'm afraid we can't just have a class without a teacher.”

“Excuse me sir, I wasn't asking for your permission, I was just doing you a courtesy in telling you the situation. If you refuse to pay my remaining salary that's fine, it wont matter to me soon anyway,” I replied angrily.

“Please calm down Ms. Brooks, you misunderstand me, you can, of course, do whatever it is you feel you need to do here, I'm just saying we can't have a class without a teacher.”

“What do you mean? Aren't you contradicting yourself?” I say confused.

“I mean that if there was no class, we would have no need to keep you on as staff.”

“You mean disperse the students between other classes?” I ask.

“A few, just the especially gifted, but no we don't have the extra space for all of them. What I'm getting at is that the school, and by extension you, have total autonomy of the students during school hours. If you went on a field trip, say to the Historical Museum of Life and Death, and none of your students returned, that would absolve you of any responsibility.”

“You want me to kill all of my students?” I asked, feeling my thighs dampen at the thought.

“Not all of them, no, and I wouldn't use such harsh language, but effectively yes, if you want to leave your teaching position I need you to get rid of your class.”

“If that’s what I need to do, I can do it,” I said, squirming in my seat.

“Great” the principal said. “You're actually really doing me a favor here. As you've probably already heard we've been having some budget problems, and if we had to cut staff wages it would become even harder to attract new staff. I'll send you a list of those who are to be relocate and a stack of forms to send home with the kids.”

As I had heard it, it was the principal's own egregious salary, and not the rest of the staff's, that was at risk of being reduced, but I wasn't going to argue.

“Thank you,” I said to the principal before excusing myself.

The following morning I arrived at school to find a small stack of paper on my desk and a new email on my computer.

Reading over the email and attached list I thought it a little strange. The list was all boys, in fact every boy in my class, and many of them I wouldn't consider especially “gifted” as the principal had described them. Well enough of that, I thought, before moving on, preparing for my class to arrive.

As I watched my class file in, admiring the skimpy attire many opt for, I noticed that already there were no boys. After the final bell rang one of my students, a cute 13 year old girl name Cindy, a blond with short pigtails, wearing low-cut unbuttoned short shorts that afforded a glimpse of her pink panties, knee high socks, and a small form-fitting tube top that showed off her pierced nipples, stuck her hand up in the air and began waving it about energetically.

“Yes Cindy?” I asked.

“Where are all the boys?” She asked.

“They've been temporarily moved to a different class, the principal seemed to have something he wanted them for, for a few days.”

“Hmmmm,” Cindy intoned, seemingly not entirely convinced.

“Enough on that for now” I said “On Thursday we have an impromptu field trip to a museum planned, seems another school had to pull out last minute.”

“What kind of field trip?” asked Elly, a raven haired 12 year old who sat closer to the back, wearing a short skirt and a necktie that hung between her bare, large for her age, breasts.

“Wouldn't want to spoil the surprise, would I?” I dodged “But don't worry I'm sure everyone will find it exciting. Now Pipe down and lets get to today's lesson.”

Two days later it was the big day. After ushering the girls onto the bus and getting us on our way, I looked over my class. Watching them talk, giggle, throw glances at the well muscled bus driver, and occasionally getting more intimate with each other, I felt myself dampen as I thought about how it was my job to ensure that none of them go home today.

As we arrived near the end of our trip we passed through a gate labeling the beyond facility the “Historical Museum of Life and Death”, next to the gate was a large bronze statue of a nude woman hung from the neck. This sparked much chatter amongst the girls, Cindy, today wearing a similar outfit but with thigh high socks a white almost transparent tube top, shot her hand up in the air.

“Ms. Brook!” Cindy shouted. “Don't people sometimes die on these field trips!”

“Oh yes,” I said. “This museum has many dangerous exhibits, and you'll all be free to volunteer to demonstrate them.”

This got the wide-eyed girls chattering even more.

The bus rolled to a stop at the front of the building. After all my students got off, and I had spoken to the man at the ticket window, I led the students into the museum that they would never leave.

As we entered the lobby the first thing I noticed was the chair in the center of the room, the second was the large openings along the walls to different halls of the museum, and last, was the entrance to the gift shop. The gift shop had some posters advertising things like “Wallets, Bags, Belts! All made from real girl leather kindly donated by visitors!” and “Going Home a few members short? Why not buy a video to remember them buy! All exhibits filmed and sold!”. Once everyone was inside I turned to speak to them.

“Now you may remember earlier when I said you'd all be free to volunteer to demonstrate the exhibits?” I asked.

The girls murmured their ascent while nervously nodding.

“Well that was only half the truth. You all are free to volunteer, but if you don't of your own free will you will be volunteered by me.”

“What do you mean?” Alice, a wide-eyed redhead wearing only black elbow-length gloves, black thigh-high stockings, and a black choker, leaving her pale flat chest and hairless pussy bare, said nervously.

“I mean I've been told the school is having some budget issues, and it was determined that one class would need to be cut. I've been instructed to make sure none of you return to school.”

“You can't do that!” exclaimed a girl named Kathrine.

My eyes met Kathrine's, she was one of the more conservatively dressed girls, wearing a skirt that fell to just above her knee and a blouse that only exposed about an inch of belly skin and fully concealed her medium sized breasts, her hair was in long twin braids and she wore thick rimmed glasses. She has always been kind of a stick-in-the-mud, complaining about rules and always acting like she was above her peers. I would enjoy proving her wrong.

“Oh yes I can, the school has complete autonomy of its charges during school hours and functions.” I said, smiling at her.

“But you forgot to collect our permission slips!” She replied smugly.

“Those slips were purely informational, your parents consent to this trip was assumed as soon as you arrived at school today.”

“You can't do this” she said, quietly, no longer meeting my gaze.

“You know, I think I've decided who to volunteer to show the class whatever that chair over there does,” I said, before signaling at one of the cameras hanging from the lobby ceiling.

Two burly museum attendants appeared from a service door and began walking toward Katherine. Panicking, Kathrine tried to run, but the men quickly had her cornered and grabbed her by the arms.

“No!, Please!, Please let me go!” Kathrine started wailing as she was dragged to chair. As she was screaming and being strapped down I began walking to the chair, signaling to the class to follow, upon nearing the chair I noticed a placard bearing words and a large switch next to it.

“The electric chair was first conceived in 1881 by a dentist named Alfred P. Southwick as a more humane alternative to hanging. The chair kills by passing various cycles of alternating current through an individual's body. The first more powerful jolt of electric current was designed to pass through the head and cause immediate unconsciousness and brain death. The second less powerful jolt was designed to cause fatal damage to the vital organs. Death may also be caused by electrical over-stimulation of the heart.

The chair fell out of favor due to the rise of lethal injection, deemed to be more humane, during the late 1900's. Our chair here is a replica of the chair used to kill Martha M. Place, the first woman to die to the electric chair in 1899, for the murder of her stepdaughter. Our chair has had the voltage reduced and the duration increased from its historical values, in an attempt to provide more of a spectacle to those watching.” I read out loud to the class.

While I read out the sign, the attendants had finished strapping Katherine down to the chair. They had also fastened electrodes to her head and legs and had shoved a rag in her mouth, letting me finish reading the sign with quieter, more muffled screams.

I walked up to Kathrine, flashed her a wide smile full of teeth, and asked “You ready?”. She muffled protests and tried to tug her arms from her bindings, tears staining her face. “I'll take that as a yes” I said pulling the rag from her mouth before closing the almost comically large switch.

She barely had time to begin screaming before the current cut her off. Her body went stiff, straining against the straps. Her eyes went wide and her mouth agape, a quiet scream, almost a whine, just barely escaping it. A few seconds passed like this before the electricity shut off. She let out a painful sounding sob as she went slack in her bonds. After a couple of seconds of respite the electricity resumed, this time her open mouth made no noise. As the current turned off Katherine let out a ragged shriek before going limp.

“Plea–” she started, before being cut off by the current resuming, her glasses being thrown from her face by her spasming body. Watching her sexy taught body I sat on the floor and pulled my skirt up to my hips. Having not worn any panties today I had immediate access to my pussy and began rubbing it in earnest. This continued for a few more cycles at which point the air began to smell like burning meat. After one off cycle where Katherine was barely twitching the electricity began flowing again, her eyes rolled back in her head and visible smoke started to rise from her body. This last cycle lasted several seconds longer than any of the previous, and when it finished and Kathrine's body went limp she didn't move at all. Kathrine's bladder gave out, urine cascading over the sides of the chair.

Standing up, I walked over to the chair and climbed onto it. Standing on the armrests with my legs spread, I began pissing on Kathrine's steaming head while rubbing my clit furiously. Staring into her eyes that didn't stare back as my piss ran over them and down her face and body to join her own on the floor, I came. Almost falling off the chair, I rode out one of the best orgasms of my life.

When I came back to myself I climbed down off the chair and straightened my skirt. I looked at my class and saw a variety of reactions, some girls were cowering, looking at me in fear, others were in shock looking at Kathrine's body, others still were looking at either me or the body with heated faces and arousal in their eyes. A few of these were, or had been, openly masturbating, and two were rubbing each others pussies while staring at my former student's body.

“Well,” I said “Enough standing around, let's keep moving.”

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