Part 4, Homeroom
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As the morning sun pierces through the windows, the intercom flickers to life. A soft feminine voice emits from the speakers—that of Samantha, a popular cheerleader known for her radiant smile and infectious enthusiasm. "Good morning, students and faculty of P.S 103! My name is Samantha Meyers, here to bring you your morning announcements.

"We start with some sad news today, announcing the unfortunate decomissioning of our meat grinder.

Sparked by last week's interschool athletics spectacle, several high schoolers tried to play like the pros—specifically, the method of grinding up their bat girls 'fully loaded'. Looks like they got carried away! They had to borrow girls from the football team's equipment lockers since it's not even baseball season yet! Silly boys! Anyway, turns out our dinky grinder couldn't manage the intensity and CRASHED!

"Wanna make our dear grinder feel better? Join the fundraiser and score ourselves a shiny new upgrade! Extra cash will buy our sports bros new baseball bats, too! Watch out! Bat demand might skyrocket.

"Just think how much fun it'll be: one of the cute baseballers pushing you feet first into the meat grinder, your whole body getting ground to a pulp - and the whole time you have three or four baseball bats shoved up your ass and stretching you out, then splintering and eviscerating your insides. A girl can dream. Oh! But importantly, until that day comes, any girls with meat grinder appointments should proceed to the guillotine located on the first floor instead."

A sigh of annoyance rolls through the girls. "I was supposed to go this afternoon," one girl pouts. "It's not fair!"

I raise my finger to tell her to keep quiet during the announcements. She flushes red in response and crosses her arms with a hmph, sulking into her chair.

"In related news, the high school athletics department has three new openings for us girls to volunteer for as tackling dummies! Not only will you get your bones mercilessly crushed by these powerful athletes, but sometimes they even rape you first! We have such a thoughtful athletic program, don't we? So, hurry along, ladies; these coveted roles fill up fast and won't remain vacant forever!

"Alrighty babes, gather 'round for today's hot tip! Remember, when tending to a fella's desires, courtesy reigns supreme! Let's say a gent opts to invade your behind—there's a good chance he might end up with a smear on his manhood… Fret not, dearies! Show appreciation by polishing him up lovingly with a grin! Don't forget, our mouths are nature's finest waste bins!

"Well, gang, that wraps things up here! Wishing you all a marvelously macabre day! Now, that's me signing off, there's a wonderful noose calling my name!" she trills, punctuating her statement with an excited chuckle.

Moments later, a clatter resonates through the speakers as little Samantha's chair is knocked over. For the next couple minutes, the halls echo with her adorable little hacking and coughing sounds filtering through the intercom. Samantha's agony fills the airwaves, culminating in dreadful silence. The intercom eventually clicks off, terminating the connection abruptly.

Once the announcements finished I moved my way to the front of my desk, poised to dismiss the girls for first period. Suddenly a hand shoots up near the middle aisle, belonging to Amy, one of my favorite students. Petite, raven-haired with mesmerizing green eyes framed by thick lashes, and around five months pregnant—by me, of course. A faint smile crosses my lips as I acknowledge her raised arm, encouraging her to speak.

"Yes, Amy?" I prompt.

She returns my grin, batting her eyelashes flirtatiously. "Sir, isn't it time for Fishbowl Fridays?" she queries playfully.

"Huh, so it is," I reply, "Thank you for reminding me, Amy," I smile back at her.

I reach under my desk and pull out a clear, empty fishbowl, placing it on my desk. "Alright, girls," I call out, addressing the sea of expectant faces staring back at me, "Write your names down on a sheet of paper. You all know the drill."

Complying without protest, every girl extracts a sheet of paper from their notebooks, swiftly crafting their respective identities onto it. Each miniature parchment, once detached, mirrors the unique handwriting styles indicative of its creator.

"Care for the honors today, Amy?" I say, while looking over at Amy with a smirk. I wiggle the empty fishbowl in my hand back and forth at her, teasing her with it.

Her eyes light up—eagerly accepting my proposal. With a delighted squeal, she bounds towards my desk, nimbly skipping past rows of seated students. Their envious gazes track her progress, each wishing secretly to trade places with her.

Bursting with enthusiasm, Amy drops her name into the clear container. Grasping the vessel firmly, she begins her voyage down each row, soliciting contributions from each girl to add to the expanding assembly within the fishbowl.

Watching Amy dutifully circumnavigate the classroom, I find myself entranced by her innocently seductive gait. Her youthful attire—plaid skirt swaying softly against creamy thighs—only amplifies her petite stature and vulnerability. I'm lost daydreaming, imagining the countless ways I'd love to reduce her delicate frame to gory bits and pieces under my merciless grip. Just breed her and breed her and breed her. The thought alone starts hardening my dick.

Breaking through my fantastical reverie, Amy's melodic voice resonates through the air. "Mr. Branson, here you go!" she trills, presenting the overflowing fishbowl with a coy glance upward, eyes shimmering mischievously beneath luscious lashes. Hips gently sashaying from side to side, she exudes excitement and pliancy.

Without hesitation, I tug her closer, hoisting her petite form onto my lap. An audible yelp escapes her as she settles in, squirming delightedly in response. Prying eyes survey the scene unfolding before them, their seething envy towards the favored girl palpable.

Leaning in, I whisper tenderly into her ear, "Time to find out who the lucky girl is this week, sweetheart." She giggles softly and tucks her chin down, my breath softly tickling her thin neck. Plunging her fragile hand into the crystal clear depths, Amy retrieves a folded note. Slowly, she unfurls the slip to reveal the identity etched upon it: "Sophie P."

"Sophie P!" I announce, "Congratulations! Today, you get to choke to death on my cock!" Sophie, a redhead in the third row, squeals in delight and hastens towards me, eager to realize her fate.

I need a quick aside to explain these. Before it became a whole thing, most days I'd just want to use one of their throats and I'd end up getting carried away a lot of the time. But girls started getting jealous that I always picked from the front rows and I wasn't fair, and whatever. So girls started volunteering for it, but then that got overwhelming. How am I supposed to choose between 11 year old Kimmy and 12 year old Suzy who are literally begging for it? You already know I can get indecisive about matters like these.

So I made it random with the fishbowl and now it's a little bit of a game between us. If they make me cum, they win. I still kill them of course, but now they die with a cumdrunk look on their face. Anyway, so that's what fishbowl Friday is.

Anyway, back to our contestant Sophie P. She excitedly stands up from her chair and nervously shuffles to the front of the classroom. Standing barely four feet tall, she sports fiery red locks cascading down her shoulders, contrasting sharply with her porcelain complexion. Her small stature renders her particularly delicate, yet possessing an enticing vulnerability that's impossible to overlook. Sizable green eyes brimming with curiosity and determination peer up at me, awaiting my next move.

Amidst the hushed whispers and breathless excitement, I rise from my chair—unconsciously knocking Amy from my lap as she sprawls unceremoniously onto the cold floor below. Ignoring her whimpering protests, I grab hold of my burgeoning erection, liberating it from its pants.

Sophie moves closer, wrapping her petite fingers around my girth, gently massaging it to life. As Sophie's hands encounter my firmness, a noticeable tremble ripples through her frail frame, betraying her mounting excitement. Barely contained desire lights up her widened eyes, radiating pure, unadulterated adoration for the object of her fascination.

"Open," I command, and Sophie's small mouth parts, offering access to her wet orifice. I grip the sides of her head and start sliding her mouth down the length of my dick. Strangled attempts at breathing fuel heavy gags rippling through her body as she tries vainly to accommodate me entirely.

Amy kneels to my side, eye-level with Sophie. She softly caresses my hips while watching Sophie closely for signs of her passing.

Eventually she reaches the base, and I feel her little tongue slowly licking my balls. I can feel her esophagus trying to reject my invading dick and push me out, and it's incredibly pleasurable. I know I'm not going to last much longer, and I can see in little Sophie's eyes that she knows she has the upper hand. She clearly practiced for this moment. Two can play at that game, so I pinch her nose shut, cutting off the last of her dwindling oxygen supply. She wraps her hands around my ass, and is pulling herself in tighter to my dick, jerking me off with her throat sphincters. She's spending all her oxygen trying to get me to cum, while her body is racing towards oblivion.

Her body starts convulsing, desperately fighting for oxygen. She looks up at me, disappointment in her eyes that she's about to die without tasting my cum, and that she had spent who knows how long practicing for this moment.

Eventually her eyes roll into the back of her head, and her body goes limp as she collapses off of her feet. I grip her head and nose tightly with my hands, with her face planted to the base of my dick. She's nothing more than a limp fuckdoll now. Slowly her esophagus stops trying to reject my dick, and her gags become softer and softer, until I don't feel any movement from her at all. After a couple of minutes, I unpinch my fingers from her nose, and there is no breath coming out. I lift up one of her eyelids and there's nothing but a vacant lifeless stare.

"I think Sophie's bye-bye Mr, Branson," Amy says with a giggle. "I would have made you cum," she says boastfully.

However, Sophie's efforts were not in vain, and she brought me so unbelievably close to the edge of orgasm. As I let go of her head, the tightness of her throat as I slid out of her mouth ended up sending me over. Her corpse fell onto the floor with a thud, and immediately I feel my hips starting to buck.

Amy sees my dick twitching and squeels in excitement. She immediately tries to take over Sophie's previous position in front of me. I yank her hair back, letting my cum go to where it rightfully ought to: onto Sophie's corpse. While hurt from my scorn at first, once Amy sees that I'm cumming ropes onto her dead loli classmate she smiles with sadistic delight and starts jerking me off. Her red hair starts to resemble a candy cane, as I douse it in cum.

"Hehe, I guess Sophie did win, Mr. Branson!" Amy giggles and looks up at me while milking my cock.

Eventually my spasms subside, and I get to look around at the rest of the homeroom. Every girl I look at has the same expression: mouth open in shock, and legs spread, showing their glistening arousal.

"Mr. Branson please do me next!" "No, please do me! You can cum all over my corpse over and over!" The class refrains in a chorus of frantic arousal. This mania was the whole reason I started doing this routine. I guess it can't be helped.

"I'm spent, girls," I say while putting my dick away. "Maybe next week if you're lucky! Now go on and get to your first period." The class huffs and starts collecting their things to move onto the next class. I almost feel a little bad that their first period teachers are going to have to deal with a bunch of edged preteens. And the grinder is out of commission too, they can't even just grind them up en masse right now. Whoops.

I pick up Sophie's corpse by her shirt. Her arms and legs dangle limply, while her back is bent like an exorcist pose, and her hair drags softly on the ground. I go to toss her down the trash chute.

"Mr. Branson?" I hear a faint voice coming from behind me. I turn around, seeing that it belongs to Amy. She's standing there expectantly, her eyes pointed down, toes pointed in, and her hands behind her back.

"Yes, Amy?" I reply, still dangling Sophie's corpse from my hand. The cum is leaking down her face in a long strand, until the end suddenly disconnects from the rest of the cum, dripping onto the floor.

"Could I eat your cum off of her face?" She spits out quickly, "I mean she didn't really win so it's not like she deserves it. Plus she didn't even know you came, so it's not like she missed out! And it would just really-"

"You know what? Why not" I say cutting Amy off. I toss Sophie's body to Amy, her little body thudding to the floor like a sack of meat.

Amy squeels in delight. "AHH Thank you thank you thank you!" She falls to her knees and starts licking her classmate's corpse, collecting every strand. Amy licks Sophie's body up and down in a frenzy, making sure to get every inch of her exposed body. Sophie's vacant eyes stare ahead, unresponsive to this oral assault. Unaware that one of her best friends is stripping her of the prize she'd given her life to earn.

Amy carelessly flips Sophie over and starts licking the cum out of her hair, moaning as she squeegees cum out of individual strands into her mouth. Finally once that's tapped, she moves on and starts licking up the cum off the floor that dripped off.

As Amy desperately licks my cum from the floor, she keeps her ass pointed up in the sky. Her skirt has ridden up as if she's offering her pussy and asshole to be used freely.

"Alright, that does it," I say, and walk over to Amy. "I'm putting you away so I can take you home later." I grab her by the hair and start dragging her towards the closet. She yelps and giggles as she tries to get footing, but I'm dragging her too roughly, and she keeps stumbling over. "I'm not risking someone else snuffing you before I can." I toss her carelessly into the closet, as she clatters into a broom and some dusty books.

"Edge yourself until I get you later. Don't make a noise, I have work to do." She looks back up at me and nods obediently, before spreading her legs and slowly massaging her clit. I shut the door on her and lock it, leaving her in complete darkness. Then I go to my desk to catch up on some grading I hadn't finished before my first class of the day begins.