I hurried down the corridor away from Ms. McLaughlin's office as fast as my legs could carry me, the trauma of the events in that room seared into my memory, whilst the tang of her pussy and wetness of her kiss still burning in my mouth. The corridor widened into a small vestibule at the front of the building and held an imposing drinks vending machine, its modernity and bright advertising in stark contrast to the otherwise traditional interior design that was the hallmark of Greenbrier. Desperate to wash out the rancid taste swilling within my mouth, I tore my purse out of my blazer pocket and grabbed a couple of pound coins before punching in the numbers for some orange sports drink.
The machine moved with agonising slowness, the taste of cum and spit on my tongue worsening as the cleansing power of the drink became my sole focus. Eventually, there was the thud of the bottle hitting the slot and I grabbed it in one fluid moment and I tore open the building door, allowing the bright light of the sun to flood over me before zipping outside and slamming the door, the rattle of my abandoned change hitting the bottom of the machine clattering behind me.
I had never much been one for sports drinks before, or at least not the luminous chemical ones like the one firmly gripped in my hand, much preferring a replenishing smoothie or just simple water to revitalise me after my workouts, but at that moment there was no sweeter taste in the world than the sweet orange flavour that exploded in my mouth. Of course, I ended up having to spit the first few mouthfuls out onto the ground, the disgusting tang of Ms. McLaughlin's many fluids merely merging with the flavour of the first few sips, but eventually I managed to clear my mouth of their disgusting tastes and quickly drained the rest of the bottle. The speed at which I finished the drink a testament to the disgusting taste in my mouth, the exertion of my traumatic experience in Ms McLaughlin's office, and of course the almost unbearable heat of the day.
With some distance between myself and the office, and the taste thoroughly cleaned from my mouth, I could feel myself calming down. It was only then another horror revealed itself to me. The stink of Ms. McLaughlin's sweat and sex was clinging to me, the sheen of her pussy juice on my face and her wetness in my hair a constant scented reminder of what had just happened to me. Looking back in the direction of the PE department and the showers within, I couldn't bring myself to take even one step closer back in the direction of Ms McLaughlin. But equally I couldn't bring myself to return to the other classes I had later that day. I was much too shaken by the trauma to concentrate, to say nothing of the noticeable sex smell that would have poured off my face and hair to my fellow students. I decided that, no matter how horrible the thought was of returning to the room that I was forced to share with Hannah, even more horrible and disgusting than Ms McLaughlin, the urge to shower and purify myself was almost the only thing on my mind.
The growl of my empty stomach at the end of lunchtime was the only reason I wasn't zipping backing to Morrison House and the cleansing shower within. Since I had already resigned myself to skipping the rest of the day's classes, I began slinking in the direction of the dining hall. The quickly emptying campus was both a welcome sign that there would be fewer people to get close enough to see, or even worse smell, the signs of filth that clung to my face and hair; and yet equally was a worrying sign of the lateness of the hour... Hopefully there would still be some remnants of lunch being served that I could hurriedly rush through and grab and limit my humiliating exposure as much as possible.
Of course, the luck of my life had so vastly deteriorated in the last few days that it should have come as no surprise to anyone that the dining hall was all but abandoned. Tables had been cleared by students, with only a handful of staff at the other end tidying away the last remnants of lunch. One the one hand I was glad, I don't know how much more humiliation I could handle and having to face the risk of my appearance and smell being noted by dining staff seemed almost enough to push me over the edge. But still my hunger had now reached a fever pitch and whilst all I wanted to do was crawl into a shower and forget about my life, if only for a few moments, the primal need for sustenance was now at the forefront of my mind.
It was then my eye was caught. A table just a few rows down from where I was standing had clearly been wiped down and polished after lunch to prep for dinner, and yet there was one last remaining plate which had been cleaned around. A late dining student who had seemingly abandoned what appeared to me to be, if not a substantial portion, then certainly an acceptable amount for someone as hungry as I was in that moment. I didn't even care that it was nowhere near what I would choose for myself, the plate holding the remnants of a towering burger and hearty portion of chips, overly salted with the stench of vinegar clinging to them. Nor did I care for the optics or public humiliation that would arise from me eating the abandoned food off a strangers plate. Hell, not even a few moments ago there was something far more worse and far more humiliating in my mouth, and half of a stranger's unhealthy meal left behind was certainly a much less disgusting thing to eat.
And so, with no regard for anything but my own hunger, I strode over to the table and stuffed almost the entire burger into my mouth at once. Years of breeding and grooming amongst some of the finest restaurants, homes, and even Greenbrier, had taught me all the minutiae of elegance in dining. My own ladylikeness and focus on self-improvement and healthy living meant that the vast majority of my meals were dainty and healthy, and always enjoyed with the quiet grace and dignity that befitted a young lady of my station. And yet, in that moment, that greasy second hand burger, clumsily shoved down my gullet, was the best meal I'd ever tasted. I didn't care about the fat content or calorie count. I didn't care about the shame from scavenging a stranger's food off their plate. I didn't even care about the judgmental glances thrown my way by a member of staff finishing cleaning up at the other end of the hall. For that brief shining moment of escape, I was happy.
Of course, like all moments of happiness in my new life, it wasn't to last long. Turning my attention to the chips, I grabbed a fistful of the vinegary potatoes and shoved another handful in my mouth. My empty stomach seemed happy at last to receive something that wasn't Ms McLaughlin's sweat or pussy juice, but the ebbing of my wild hunger brought with it a return to my rational senses. It's true that a stranger's food wasn't nearly the grossest thing that had passed through my lips that day, but what sort of person at Greenbrier would choose to order this lunch and then befoul it with so many more greasy and salty choices? There were always so many fine meal choices at the Academy, that this person would have to have been someone who cared nothing for their class or looks or waistline. Some monstrous glutton who lived only to devour. The sudden attention grabbing cough behind me caused me to whirl round in shock. Though considering the sort of person whose meal this had to be, it should have caused me no shock to see who I was face to face with.
"Well, well, well, Slave Slut." Hannah sneered down at me. "Enjoying the taste of my sloppy leftovers, are we?"
I gulped down the last fistful of food I already shoved in my mouth, the taste turning to ash in my mouth as the realisation of whose lunch leftovers I had eaten sunk in. The bile rose in my throat as I'd realised that I'd practically shared a meal with fat, disgusting Hannah. Her trace spittle clinging to the bitten burger clawing its way through my system. Of course I'd been forced to intake several far more disgusting parts of her, but the intimacy of the dining somehow felt far more invasive. Another shudder of disgust and humiliation rocked my body.
"I normally start feeling like I've had a meal round about the third helping." She continued, staring wistfully into the middle distance, her love of fattening foods seemingly trumping even her sick love of humiliating me. "That's when I feel like I could normally stop and leave the rest behind."
I glanced down at the now almost empty plate. That wasn't even a full portion I'd hurriedly stuffed down, and already I was feeling sickly full, though perhaps that feeling of sickness was from the Hannah's emanating grossness. I couldn't imagine having a second, or god forbid, a third portion. Looking back at Hannah's pudgy and acned face, and her bulging belly and thighs, the hideousness and stench that were such inherent parts of her were altogether more clear
As if she noticed my subconscious glance at her swollen tummy, she patted it and gave a loud belch, the hot stinking air of her burp wafting into my face.
"But I see you seemed to enjoy it." Her wicked smile looked down at me some more. "Stuffing your face like such a greedy little piggy. You used to call me a greedy little piggy, didn't you? But what do you call me now?"
