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Written by Choice Cuts Deli

Commission for Christina Panda | January 2021 | 6461 Words

"I hope you understand the severity of your actions, Dalton," the dusky-feathered, owl-headed gryphon chirped with a decidedly dour tone. He had to refrain himself from clacking his beak as he stared down the young adult boar, the boy's tusked muzzle dipped down far enough to nearly hide the crest emblazoned on his sharp dressed school uniform. Despite his usual brazen nature, the cocky hog was taken down a peg when brought to heel. "This is not the first time you've caused mischief in the halls of Coral Coast Academy. But this time you've gone too far. Not just stealing the knives out of every classroom you could get your grubby hooves into but setting them up above the main staircase, so they fell on innocent passers-by."

"I didn't mean for them to fall!" the hog snapped back with a gentle squeal, the boar's demeanor softening the moment he saw it was not helping his case. "We thought it'd be a funny to see them all hanging up. Honest, Mister Ebonbill."

"Indeed," the gryphon straightened in his seat, snorting softly. "You should tell that to our now former janitor, poor Jake McAllister. He was kind enough to donate the arm he lost, but won't ever be the same again. Not to mention the fact you mixed up food grade knives with scalpels and butchery saws. Classes are going to be disrupted for at least a day while we sort this mess out." It took a lot to bring the premier Post-Secondary Academy to its knees. But somehow Dalton and his co-conspirators found a way to stop the training of future slaughterhouse staff, butchers and chefs all in one silly prank. It was an impressive feat. But it would also come at a price.

"I don't know why you're singling me out, Mister Ebonbill," Dalton grunted, crossing his arms before him. "Gerald or Parker were involved too," he added with a scoff. Those two-bit friends of his folded quickly under pressure, quick to point the finger at the stocky, short-stack hog.

"Don't worry, they will be dealt with too. But I've been asked to discuss more than just your actions." Splaying out a heavy manilla folder upon the table, the boar's name and smiling face affixed to the front, the gryphon casually flipped open the folder to reveal the hog's permanent record. "You have consistently under-performed in your classes since you began here. Just enough to keep you above the bottom ten percent cut-off." The words 'cut off' only sent shivers down Dalton's spine. Students who attended Coral Coast Academy, often jokingly calling it 'Choice Cuts Academy,' were given free room and board, but lived in constant fear that they might some day become a demonstration for their peers if their grades slipped. "After the stunt you pulled, I was asked as your advisor to give my opinion to Headmaster Abbott. He agreed, it would be best to waive the grade requirements."

A soft swallow from the opposite side of the room caught Mister Ebonbill's ear momentarily, the gryphon's eyes softening as he shot a glance over towards young Christina. Dressed in her smart school uniform with both paws resting on her dress, the sweet black-and-white furred panda had spent most of the uncomfortable conversation frightened that she was in trouble too. Even more confusing was the fact she was sitting next to Dalton of all people. Christina always tried to stay out of the haughty hog's line of sight. When he wasn't causing mischief in the halls, the brash boar was well known as a bully, particularly having leveled his eyes upon the 'softer majors' found at Coral Coast Academy. The slaughterhouse apprentice was quick to hurl insults and ruin the dishes of bakery and delicatessen majors. She much preferred to have nothing to do with him.

Christina tried not to show her worry, but was still hesitant to make eye contact with Mister Ebonbill, her arms tensing in a way that squished her voluptuous breasts just a bit in her school uniform. But the gryphon's expression seemed to soften to a knowing smile, his eyes steeling once again as he turned his gaze back towards the incredulous boar. "You- You don't mean...?" the hog asked nervously, eyes widening as he realized what was happening.

Sliding a heavy iron collar across his desk, the metal emblazoned with the school's heraldic crest on the front, Mister Ebonbill chuckled. "Congratulations, Christina," he added calmly. "Your application for a meat-slave to rear for your term project has been accepted. I hope you don't mind having to make a pork dish?"

"How the hell did you manage to get a whole hog for your term project, Christina?!" chirped a sweet grey-furred rabbit, crinkling her nose as she stared across the shared dorm room at her panda roomie's prize pig. While somewhat spartan, all Coral Coast Academy accommodations had a few additions to ensure student comfort. Aside from a bed, desk, dresser, and lofting equipment, each held a roll-closed pantry cabinet that contained the necessary accoutrements to house two living meat-slaves, one for each student living in the room. "Not that I'm complaining, Dalton always was a brat. It'll be nice to see him on a plate. But I'm still kinda pissed I was given the scrawniest cow they could scrounge up in the barn. And I still have to share the milk," the pastry chef bunny frumped, blushing as she stole another glance at the boar.

The slave's pantry was customizable for the needs of the chef - students could choose from a simple animal cage, an immobilization rack, various tie-points, or even a leash and bed if the meat had volunteered. For now, Dalton hung by his arms from a single meat-hook in the ceiling of the closet, his hooves kept on the ground but spread-eagle at two tie-down points. By now he had been stripped of his clothes, save for the collar and ownership tag that hung off his left ear, though he was at least kind enough to keep his mouth shut as the girlfriends chattered away.

"I guess Mister Ebonbill wanted to make sure he went to someone who could use him," Christina added from her bed, having traded her school outfit for some comfortable - if more revealing - sleepwear.

"What do you plan to do with him, by the way?" April asked, stepping up to the helpless hog and casually starting to prod his body with a supple paw.

"Something sandwich-y," Christina chuckled, not sure if the rabbit's inspecting hand, or the demeaning, off-hand comment made Dalton flinch.

"Fucking deli majors," the boar muttered under his breath, jerking in his bonds as April tickled down his sides. "Y- You could have the decency to let me down from this damn thing."

"He's feisty," April added, giving his midriff a squeeze. "Bet he spent his whole time wishing he'd be a big roast boar. Instead, he's gonna end up between two slices of bread for someone who wants to open a sandwich shop."

Putting aside her phone, Christina could not help but add a little insult to injury, commenting, "Nah. He'd never be a good roast pig. That little dick of his would hardly draw a crowd."

"Hey!" That got him. Dalton snorted with the rage of an angry hog, twisting and jerking in his bonds as his threats fell on indifferent ears. "Wh- Why don't you come over here and say that?!" Feigning that she didn't hear his threats, Christina tried to return to her phone, allowing April's physical examination to continue. That is, until he ran his mouth a little too hot. "That's what I thought, goddamn cut-rate stir-fry bear..." Dalton muttered the words amid his latest escape attempt, seeming to think that he could pull himself up and bounce off the heavy metal hook. Ultimately, the useless tugging only distracted him from noticing Christina was standing up, slipping her legs off the side of her bed. Before he realized it, he felt the panda's firm hand grip tight his cock tight, squeezing it hard between her fingers. It was hard enough that the boy let out a panicked squeal as he dropped back down in his restraints, forced to stare face-to-face with his new owner.

"Let's see..." She scoffed, licking her chops as her other hand fondled the boar's heavy balls. "Four-inch cock. A nice thick fat pad hiding maybe another inch? Balls aren't bad. But they belong on a sniveling piglet, not a wild beast." Staring Dalton straight in the face, Christina growled, "You're no Grade A pork. In fact, you don't even deserve to be butchered. You should be thankful," she squeezed once again, making sure he understood what she meant, "that I'm going to end your pitiful life the way I plan to."

It felt like an eternity, Dalton's cock crushed in a vise grip, his balls being tightly fondled till he was sure they'd pop if she just dug her painted claws in a little deeper. For a brief moment, the boar's jaw went slack, tears rolling down his face as his eyes unfocused from the pain, only to feel himself released. Before he could un-tense, Christina added one final insult, landing a hard, open-palmed smack to the boar's cheek. She might have miscalculated on that one, his left tusk sending a wave of pain through her wrist and reflexively causing the panda to ball up her fist before landing a gut-punch on the hog. As the air wheezed out of his lungs, Dalton finally gave in, losing control of himself as a hot dribble of piss flowed down his thigh into the sanitation drain below. Sputtering, whimpering, the haughty hog managed to wheeze out, "I-m s-orr-yyy," between deep, almost bellowing gasps.

Having shown her dominant side, Christina seemed pretty pleased with herself. She certainly surprised April, the girl having backed off a bit to allow her to take charge of her prize pig. Pulling Dalton head-first against her shoulder, his chin resting on one of her pillowy breasts, Christina whispered in his ear as she pet her pig to calm him back down. "Shhhh, that's better... Mommy's here... You've been a bad boy, but you learned that you're not going to get out of this alive. And that's important, isn't it, sweetie?" A soft, halting nod seemed to show that Dalton understood the right things to do to stop the pain. "Good boy. You'll learn what I've got planned for you in a little bit. Right now, we need to work on making you docile. And a little more fattened. So, I'm going to lock up this cock of yours for being so disrespectful."

"N- No, p- please d- don't..." was all he could manage to stammer out.

"Shhhh, I have to, sweetie," she whispered, having palmed the chastity cage on her way to discipline the boar. The racking pain had caused him to soften up, making it easy to slip the heavy, stainless steel ring around his balls and shaft. "Listen to me, hun. Your life is going to be very different from today, until your death date. I think," she added, fiddling with the cage tube, trying to make sure his soft cock slipped inside properly, "we should mark this moment with a fresh start for you."

"Please, I- I still want to c- ohhh cold..." Dalton whimpered as his shaft slipped into the cage.

"Your new name is Sandwich. Understood?" Smirking, Christina clicked the lock into place, sealing off his cock from the world. "...Sandy for short. Now, I want you to think long and hard, Sandy. When was the last time you came?" The question took Dalton off guard, his mind still reeling from the recent, painful abuse.

Christina caressed the boar's supple balls as he struggled to remember, the hog finally squeaking out, "L- Last week?"

"Good boy, Sandwich. Now, look me in the eyes. Are you willing to let that memory be the last time you ever orgasmed?" Dalton swallowed as Christina paused to let that thought set in, before finishing. "Or are you going to be obedient, and try to earn a final cum before you die?"

Shamefully, the hog nodded shyly at the realization that last week's offhand shower wank would be such a pathetic end. Realization quickly set in that the hog's new life would involve living for his Chef, his Mistress, and that the only thing he had to look forward to was the chance of a final orgasm, if he was lucky. "Y- Yes Mistress."

"Good." Christina sighed as she finished the job, offering a ball gag to his muzzle, carefully affixing the straps behind his tusks. "We'll discuss letting you down from the stress position tomorrow." Slowly closing the cupboard, Christina added, "And if you wake either of us, there'll be hell to pay."

"Goodnight, Sandy," April giggled, just before the door closed and Dalton found himself alone in the darkness, forced to cry himself to a fitful sleep.

Christina sighed as she stared down at her books, the dimmed light of the Academy library's reading room giving her a touch of eye strain as she poured over the hypothetical scenarios that she needed to answer for her homework. It was not the ideal work environment, but she loved this specific library carrel because of its unique position on the building's third floor. With one paw hunting and pecking letters on her laptop keyboard, the studious panda casually slipped her paw around a hefty club sandwich she had resting just out of view behind the study space's high walled sides. Someone would have to be right up on her in order to see it, which made this spot perfect for her to steal a few bites during her study hall periods.

Setting aside the hefty sandwich, she smiled softly as she chewed, closing her eyes to mull over the melding flavors of tender ham, juicy roast turkey and crisp bacon that rolled over her tongue. This was perhaps the third time this week that she packed herself the same, heavily stacked meal, made fresh from three different former students' meats. Each one was a little different, as if she was doing some idle experimentation. But regardless of the results, she was satisfied with each of the meals. As she turned her attention back to the computer, Christina felt a soft and gentle tug at her pant leg, a gentle whimper catching her ear at the same time. Turning her attention downwards to the floor, she locked eyes with Dalton, a wry smirk crossing her face as she thought over the difference a month made in the hog's demeanor.

The once-cocky boar was far more docile than he had been in the past, owing to a mixture of constant chastity and the heavy hormone regimen she kept him on. The rapid increase in estrogen, balanced with just enough testosterone to keep up his libido, did wonders for both decreasing the size of his cock and bulking up his breast meat into two sizeable and highly sensitive mounds. It did not help that everyone could see these changes as they happened, his old friends laughing and lewdly commenting how he's gone down another chastity cage size, or giving a painfully firm twist to his new breast meat when passing in the halls. Christina, of course, did not care what they did, so long as it did not leave too bad of a bruise. She was even a little curious if the humiliation would come through in the meat when the time came to chow down on his delectable flesh.

Reaching down to carefully caress Dalton's cheek, Christina planted a soft kiss between his eyes before asking, "Do you want a drink of water, Sandy? You know that's the only reason you're allowed out of your gag." Casting his glance downwards, Dalton nodded shyly. "Alright," she relented, reaching around to remove the padlock from the boar's ball gag before slowly pulling the drool-soaked rubber from between his tusks. "There we are, Sandy. Now, what do we say?"

"Th- Thank you, Mistress," Dalton answered back, turning his gaze to the floor. It took some time for him to get comfortable enough to not look over his shoulder with embarrassment before saying it. His training had come a long way.

"That's a good boy," Christina said, smiling as she retrieved a water bottle from her purse, holding it to his muzzle and forcing him to drink at her pace. With a little chuckle, she planted her footpaw between his thighs, grinding her toes against the nub chastity cage she'd fit him with recently. "Though maybe I should stop calling you a boy all together. That feel nice, hun?"

"Y- Yes Ma'am," Dalton whined as she allowed him the chance to speak. But against all the rules, the nervous hog decided now was his best chance to ask for the one thing he most desired. "Mistress? May... May I please cum?" The words came quicker than Christina could order him to stop. But rather than shove the ball gag back in, the future deli chef pondered the thought for a moment, slowly rapping her paws upon the tabletop. Turning her gaze up to the rest of the library, she considered the quiet of the room. It was usually a class period for most at Coral Coast Academy, so the library was mostly empty. And her favorite spot was nicely hidden, with the carrel's high walls also extending to below the wooden table.

Clicking her tongue, Christina scootched her chair back, motioning for Dalton to curl up under her desk. "Go on, get under there." In a hushed tone, she carefully reached down to pull up the bottom of her skirt, giving the boar a good view of her sheer pink panties. "Pleasure me for a while and I'll consider it," she added, scooting her chair forward to lock him into place and keep the naughty hog from open view of any prying eyes. "And be quiet about it."

Locked between Christina's legs and the wooden sides of the cramped carrel, Dalton had to struggle to get both his hoof-tipped hands up to her thighs, his nose already rudely pushed into his owner's sweet sex. It was so disgraceful, the smell of her pussy hot on his nose in the middle of public. Not to mention the fact she could so easily pleasure herself whenever and however she wanted. He could feel his little prick throb in his cage. The last time he ate her out, the boar left quite the drippy mess on the floor. And that was just a few days ago. Nervously pulling down her panties, the hog rested his chin upon the sheer fabric like a sort of sling, lining his tusk-ringed snout against her tender snatch. Knowing he should not go right in, the hog breathed softly, letting her feel his presence first, before first nudging against her supple lips with his flat snout, and then slowly starting to lap out in sensual, slow strokes.

Christina shivered at the feel of Dalton's tongue, the supple digit slowly dipping into her pussy like he was eating an ice cream cone. It was shallow, every lick exiting her tender hole before he reached her cherry-red clit. But after a month or so in captivity, he knew exactly what got her going. And besides, he did not want to make too much noise... or did he?

"Hoo-Hoo!" A familiar voice called out through the library, though not a shout which meant the person was very close. "Christina, what a pleasant surprise to see you here." Dalton grunted softly as the sweet panda tensed up, sitting up straight in an attempt to steel herself and accidentally squishing the boar's broad snout into her pubic mound.

"M- Mister Ebonbill, h- hello, how are you today?" Christina squeaked out with a grimace as her advisor stepped out from a row of book shelves, the broad-shouldered gryphon happily holding an armful of cookbooks. Obviously, her hiding place was not perfect.

"I'm well, Christina," the gryphon smiled, unfurling his wings behind him after having them tucked to navigate the stacks. "Working on your term project? I've not had a chance to talk to you about it in a while." Narrowing his eyes, Mister Ebonbill added, "And how's that hog of yours doing? He's not here with you, is he?"

"O- Oh, he- he's back at my roo- mmmpfh..." Christina's expression sunk as she felt Dalton's broad tongue dip between her folds once again. This time, however, his snout was wedged firmly against her tender clit. As he slowly raked his tongue along the inside of her supple pussy, the motion caused his nose to grind firmly into her most sensitive spot, sending waves of pleasure coursing through Christina's body. "Room," she affirmed, trying to get her voice under control as she gave a gentle nudge to Dalton with her foot.

"Ah, I see," Mister Ebonbill nodded, stepping a bit closer to Christina's carrel. "Shame, I would love to see the progress you've made with him. Have you made any decisions on how you plan to serve him?"

"I was th- thiiiinking..." Christina shuddered as she felt Dalton's tongue slip back inside, deeper than before. This was not simply a misunderstanding; he was doing it on purpose. The troublemaker hog had nothing to lose. After all, he was ordered to do it, despite his owner knowing the library had a strict 'no sex on premises' rule. And now, with her teacher so close by, Cristina could do nothing to stop him, lest she draw attention to the fact she was unclothed from the waist down, with a cheeky hog between her thighs. "I was thinking something s- s- special... and demeaning for Sandy..." She added at last, trying to control her short, halting breaths as Dalton's tongue circled her clitoris in lazy but purposeful swirls.

"Demeaning, you say?" Mister Ebonbill grinned, resting an arm upon the side of the carrel.

"Y- Yes, I was thi- i- inking of- preparing the hog like p- poultry," she stammered, swallowing as she felt Dalton's sensual dip into her honey pot halt the moment that word came out.

"Poultry?" The bemused gryphon could not help but chuckle at the thought. "Well, that would certainly leave that haughty hog ashamed of his final hours. But what sort of purpose would that serve? Unless you're trying to make his embarrassment show through in the meat."

Taking the pause in Dalton's licking as an opportunity to kick him harder this time, the noise of her paw connecting with the hog's midriff covered by Mister Ebonbill's confused questions, Christina turned bodily in her seat to ensure the boar could not reach her dripping wet pussy anymore. "I-" she swallowed, catching her breath as she began, "I was planning to turn him into an all-in-one club sandwich. After all, his thighs will still roast with the same flavor as ham should have. But I've been working on building his breast meat too." Having gathered herself enough to hit her stride, Christina added, "I think if I'm careful, I can produce a reasonably decent flavor profile from him that's dependent on where the meat came from rather than its cooking method. Turkey breast, ham and bacon all from the same animal."

"My dear, you've always been quite the stand-out student. I admire your attempt to try something unique for your final exam this year. And of course, do know that the difficulty of the project will not weigh against you. But I for one encourage you to try your best." With a lick of his beak, and a flick of his tailfeathers, the gryphon gave a gentle tap to the side of the carrel before turning on all four lion-pawed heels. "Hoo-hoo! I suppose I should not keep you, you seem quite..." He paused, just long enough to make Christina wonder if he suspected something. "...engrossed in your work. Keep me posted, my dear, I know you won't disappoint!" Christina shuddered as she watched the middle-aged gryphon saunter off towards the elevators, headed off to check out his armful of books, leaving her once again in the quiet of the library. Only after she was absolutely sure her instructor was gone did Christina let up upon Dalton, her footpaw jammed hard enough into the boar's side that tears had begun to roll down his cheek.

Slipping her chair out from the carrel to give herself enough room to yank her panties back up, Christina snarled as she reached out to grip her slave by the throat. "You!" She hushed, her black-and-white furred face flush red with embarrassment. "Don't you ever do that again! You nearly," she paused to take a breath, trying to meter her response so she didn't raise her voice in the library. "You nearly got me fucking put on the menu for breaking the rules." Once she felt put together enough, despite the dribbles of nectar and spit that still clung to her legs, Christina stood from her chair, dragging Dalton up to his feet by his throat. "Don't even dream of an orgasm, meat. I'm keeping you in chastity at least until your death date. We'll talk then if you deserve a final cum." Shoving her purse and backpack into the horrified boar's paws, Christina added, "C'mon. Back to the room. Now. You've been a bad boy, but you're at least going to finish what you started."

Two months. Two long, grueling months. Three months and a week in total. The extreme regimen of enforced chastity, heavy hormone supplementation and a few other custom body modifications designed solely to twist the knife left Dalton practically unrecognizable to his former classmates. Normally the caged hog was a little less mouthy while being led around on the way to Christina's classes. But today, the shaved-pink pig was making quite the commotion in the halls of Coral Coast Academy as the budding delicatessen owner took him on his last walk about the grounds.

His hesitant footsteps came with a metallic ring as he walked, each hoof locked tight in a set of custom-built metal stiletto heels. While one might think them designed to add a touch of gender-bending insult, the welded-closed, angled boots served a very different purpose. With his feet permanently locked at an angle, Dalton was forced to counterbalance himself, puffing out his medically augmented chest, rounded a-cup breasts proudly displayed like a turkey. His arms were locked behind his back, wrists bound to a leather strap that ran down from behind his collar, only allowing the boar to uselessly flap his elbows about for balance. To complete the humiliating costume, the boar was forced to wear what amounted to a metal bird's beak, a ring gag fastened behind his tusks ensuring that the plump 'fowl' could do nothing but warble incoherent gobble and cluck noises. But the humiliating getup was nothing compared to what was in store for the mischievous hog; today was the day Christina's term project was due. And she made a point of telling Dalton that before leaving for class, ensuring that every awkward step came with a panicked hesitancy as he tried to preserve a few extra, if fleeting, moments of life, despite his humiliation.

"Ahh, Christina," Mister Ebonbill called, just having finished ushering a wolf and her bunny to their workstation for their examination. "Goodness," the owl-gryphon hooted, shaking his head as she tugged her hog through the classroom door. "That sort of presentation is something I'd expect from those on the Gastropub track."

"I wasn't originally going to go to the trouble," Christina added, a little spring to her step as she was ushered towards her own cooking station. "But, when I told him his death was a few weeks away he got a little bitey. And I got to chatting up Percy, over in the bladeworks? He was happy to pull together something on short notice."

"Well, you certainly are off to a good start," Mister Ebonbill chuckled. "Now, let's see..." Checking his notes, the gryphon nodded, "Right. You don't need curing or smoking, so you've got until eight PM to finish your dish."

"Don't worry, Mister Ebonbill," the sweet panda added with a smile, wrapping her paw about the lead a little tighter when she felt Dalton scoot to the end of his lead. "I've got my plan all figured out." With her exam timer started, Christina went to work with the efficiency of an executioner. Dalton took little trouble to subdue, the hog's nervous body unable to resist as Christina wrapped her arms around him and off-balanced his legs, sending the struggling turkey backwards into her arms. Deposited into a roasting pan, the hog quickly found himself overwhelmed by Christina's insistent and forceful grip as she firmly bundled the turkey-to-be into a tight package, ensuring that his legs were bent and forced up against his belly like a set of drumsticks. That was all it took to render the terrified hog into a docile Tom turkey, the terrified porker reduced to making frantic, indistinct gobbling noises as he struggled in the center of what was to be his death bed.

With her future meal rendered docile and helpless, Christina could take her time focusing on the recipe she had devised. Despite Dalton's drooling pleas and cries, Christina turned her attention to creating a perfect herbed butter, whipping a heavy helping of fresh poultry mix, garlic and just a touch of lemon juice into several boxes worth of butter. "Shhhh, just relax, Sandy," she said, rolling up her sleeves once she was satisfied with the mixture. "I'll give you a little attention. I know you've missed our usual morning fun," she added, reaching both paws deep into the bowl and hefting two fistfuls of softened butter. "Here, let me start with your tits, just like we do back home." Unlike back at home, when Christina would massage and tease Dalton's budding breast meat, the panda instead began to massage the fresh butter into his chest, her slick fingers toying with the hog's pert and perky nipples as she made sure he was coated in an even layer. "Does that feel good, sweetie? Yeah? You want to gobble gobble a little more for Mistress?"

"A-Ahhhhlllgh..." Dalton groaned, slurring his pleas for her to stop as she used both paws to massage his hormone-sensitive breasts deeper than she usually did.

"Mmmm... that's my Tom turkey," Christina cooed, reluctant to move on from his breast meat until she was satisfied with the noises he made. In time, Dalton found himself slathered from tip to toe in a thick layer of herbed butter. His predicament became deadly real when he felt Christina haphazardly slather the fragrant butter across his face with no regard for his face or eyes. She even seemed a little eager to get it into all the right places. But the humiliated and emasculated boar's ordeal was nowhere near the end when the last dregs of butter were slapped across his ticklish hooves.

With both arms coated in butter, Christina began to prod at Dalton's tender, broken ass. She took the time to loosen him up over the past few months. But with an eye for flair, the deli chef did not quite prepare him for a full fisting. Still struggling in his roaster, Dalton had no idea what was in store for him as several gallons of pre-prepared stuffing was laid out next to him. What followed was a cacophony of panicked squeals that came out sounding more like pathetic and panicked bird squawks as Christina worked her fingers into his hole, followed by her whole fist all the way up to her elbow. A few of the other students nervously paused their own preparations to watch the show as their star classmate began to shovel fistfuls of stuffing deep into the boar's hole, practically punching through the hog's broken pucker with each forceful shove.

"Mmmm... that's a good turkey," Christina shushed sarcastically in response to Dalton's panicked pleas. "You've got such a greedy ass my little bird. Ohhh, careful now, a little bit popped back out," she chuckled as she scooped up a half-handful that slopped out his broken ass, slowly pushing it back into place. "Now, my little birdy, it's almost time for you to roast," the sweet panda added, leaning in softly as she heard Dalton's begging almost turn to sobbing. At least, that's what she assumed it was, his bird-like gobbles turned halting and stilted. "I'm going to offer you something very special, my sweet Tom turkey, for being such a good boy." The turkey-to-be seemed to ease off his sobbing at those words, his pain not enough to fully addle his mind. "That's right, sweetheart. I want you to tell me which you would prefer. Should I end your life before you roast? Or do you want a last orgasm?"

"A- Ahhhgllgh..." Dalton stammered out through his gag, drool dribbling down the side of his butter-slick cheek as he desperately tried to respond.

"Ah-ah, no sweetheart, the gag stays in till you're good and roasted. One gobble for your life. Two gobbles for your orgasm." For a moment, the future poultry sat still and shy, the room seeming to fall quiet as if every other student wanted to hear the answer to the fateful question. Despite the tears filling his eyes, Dalton hesitated only a few heartbeats before making his decision.

"Gbbl gbbl..." he grunted, hips flexing as if trying to show he was wiling to trade the sweet release of merciful death for one last orgasm.

"That's my tender Tom turkey," Christina cooed, wiping off her stuffing-coated paws before rummaging about in one of the kitchen drawers. The amused giggles of the surrounding students were palpable to the terrified hog, the porker twisting his head in a nervous bid to try and make eye contact with anyone who could save his life. The humiliating, prosthetic metal beak, however, made that nearly impossible. And his former classmates' apathy was not helping matters. "Here we go," Christina finally added, her fingers returning to Dalton's hole once again. This time, they were accompanied by something small and metal being pushed up inside of him. Thrusting her paw back inside, up to her wrist, Christina carefully positioned her little gift until the golf ball sized object weighted down the boy's already overstimulated prostate. With a little tap, the object started to buzz with a fury that caused Dalton to squawk, two more taps bringing the egg vibrator's speed down to an agonizing and frustrating low. "Does that feel good, hun? You better focus on your deepest fantasy," she added as she resumed packing in the last of the stuffing. "This will be your only chance to orgasm for me."

Dalton whimpered, bucking his hips softly as he realized exactly what Christina's poisoned words meant. Orgasm. Not cum. The chastity cage would remain nice and tight, keeping his little, useless nub locked away under hot stainless steel. Finishing off her bird with two stitches to close his broken hole, Christina seemed pleased at the result for her little frustrated turkey. All it took was a push, backwards across the countertop and into the waiting oven to seal Dalton's fate. He was sure that his chef said some sort of goodbye, but between the blood pounding in his ears, and the striking panic that gripped him as he was bathed in the oven's heat, Dalton could not place what she said. Not that it mattered. His last minutes alive had come to a very abrupt end as the oven door closed, and the porker-turned-poultry began to roast.

Clenching his eyes tight, Dalton tried to calm himself as he felt the first oily dribbles of butter begin to melt and drip down his body, his perked breast meat laboring to breathe in the agony of the commercial oven. The hog stayed surprisingly composed, at least he thought he did. By the time his first pained moans started to echo in the oven's confines, he knew he had worse things to worry about than leaving behind a dignified corpse. Not that dignity factored into it, the tender turkey's struggles quickly hitting a fevered pitch as the superheated air scorched his lungs and dripping butter hissed and spattered against his reddening flesh. Like fighting against a nightmare, Dalton's head restlessly shook back and forth, every bid for freedom turned into nothing more than a struggle against the heat that boxed him in from all angles. Even with his eyes closed shut, the jelly-filled orbs beginning to swell under his eyelids, he could sense Christina watching, a smug look on her face and one paw down her skirt when the teacher wasn't looking.

The merciful release could not come quick enough, the hog's thrashing and twitching seeming to last for an eternity. Yet Christina did not care whether he held on longer or not. Her eyes were locked onto Dalton's hips. Peering through the grease-stained oven window, she seemed fixated upon whether or not her pent up pig would get his release. As the seconds ticked by, she found herself growing restless, the sweet panda huffing as she watched Dalton's end approach. First were the obvious signs; his shoulders dropped, his head flopped to one side, and the purposeful struggles turned to haphazard spasms. Her tender turkey lost his first battle and fell unconscious at long last. Without his preservation instinct holding him back, she watched with deep fascination as his hips relaxed, thighs splaying a little to either side as his unconscious body settled into the bliss of the vibrator's buzz. She had seen it before, and she knew what was coming. Slipping her phone out of her purse, Christina pressed her camera up to the glass, catching the scene just in time.

A twitch, a jerk, and Dalton's body suddenly clenched with what little energy he had left. A dribble of bread stuffing squeezed out his sewn shut hole as the boy's hips began to buck haphazardly. Rocked with the most intense orgasm he would never get to experience, the brain-dead bird gurgled out a final, incoherent groan as the bliss of a pathetic prostate orgasm eased him off into the embrace of death. With a smile on her face, and a proud thought towards how beautiful her future club sandwiches would be, Christina zoomed her camera in on Dalton's tight-fit cock cage, making sure to catch the tiniest wisp of steam rising off the tip. Perhaps he did manage to cum? If he did, she thought, it'd certainly show through in his taste.

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