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Dear Principal Johnson,
I hope this letter finds you well. I am writing to inform you about a unique medical condition that our son, Andrew, has recently been diagnosed with. It is a rare metabolic disorder that requires him to consume all his meals after they have been internally processed through his rectum for a minimum of three hours.
While we understand that this may seem unusual, it is crucial for Andrew's health and well-being. We kindly ask for your understanding and cooperation in accommodating this dietary restriction during his time at school.
Andrew is, as you might suspect, very upset at this. He will try to avoid following this rule whenever he can, but it is very important that he does so. We ask that you and the faculty help us ensure that Andrew adheres to this necessary treatment. Please make sure that he only eats food that has spent the required time in his rectum, as this is the only way for his body to properly process and digest his meals.
We truly appreciate your support and understanding in this matter. If you have any questions or concerns, please do not hesitate to contact us. My number is attached. Together, we can help Andrew manage his condition and thrive in his educational environment.
Thank you,
Jane Smith
Andrew sat in Principal Johnson's office, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment and anger. He clutched the forged letter in his trembling hands, trying to find the words to convince the principal that it was all a cruel joke.
"Please, Principal Johnson, you have to believe me," Andrew pleaded, his voice cracking. "This letter is fake! I don't have any medical condition like that. It's just a mean prank!"
Principal Johnson looked at Andrew sympathetically, but his tone remained firm. "Andrew, I understand that this must be difficult for you, but we cannot ignore a letter from a parent regarding their child's health," he said, taking the letter from Andrew's hands and examining it closely. "It appears genuine, and we must take it seriously."
Andrew felt tears of frustration welling up in his eyes. This had to be Casandra's doing - she was always finding new ways to torment him. He couldn't believe she had gone this far. "P-Please, sir. You can call my mother, she'll explain that this isn't real." Andrew started to take out his phone, but the principal stopped him.
"Fine, *I'll* call her." Principal Johnson took out his cellphone and dialed the number on the letter.
"That number is-" Andrew wanted to tell him that the number wasn't correct, but the principal looked at him sternly and held up a finger.
After a moment, someone answered on the other end of the line. "Hello, this is Principal Johnson from Andrew Smith's school. May I speak with Jane Smith, please?"
Andrew's heart sank as he heard Casandra's voice come through the phone, mimicking his mother's tone. "Oh, hello Principal Johnson. This is Jane Smith speaking. Is everything alright with Andrew?"
Principal Johnson nodded, believing he was speaking to Andrew's mother. "Yes, Mrs. Smith, I just wanted to discuss the letter you sent regarding Andrew's medical condition. I have Andrew here in my office, and he seems quite distressed about the situation."
"Oh, I understand," Casandra replied, feigning concern. "Andrew can be a bit sensitive about his condition. But I assure you, the letter is genuine, and it is crucial for his health that he follows this dietary restriction. It's very serious and if he ingests *anything* that hasn't been... prepared in the described manner Andrew could end up in the hospital. We're lucky that his condition was caught early, it could've killed him."
Andrew couldn't believe what he was hearing. He wanted to scream, to snatch the phone away and expose Casandra's lies, but he felt paralyzed by the absurdity of the situation.
"I see," Principal Johnson said gravely. "Well, rest assured that we will do everything in our power to accommodate Andrew's needs. We will inform the faculty and ensure that Andrew adheres to this necessary treatment."
"Thank you so much, Principal Johnson," Casandra said sweetly. "This is very important, and you have my upmost permission to punish him if you catch him trying to ingest anything that hasn't been in his ass first. Even water. That's how serious this is. I trust you'll make sure he understands how important this is? And if he tries telling anyone it isn't true, you should probably punish him for lying as well."
Andrew felt nauseous hearing Casandra's twisted lies. Principal Johnson ended the call and turned to Andrew with a stern expression. "I understand that this must be difficult for you, Andrew, but we must take your health seriously. From now on, you will only consume food that has been prepared according to your mother's instructions. The faculty will be informed, and we expect your full cooperation."
"But... but..." He tried to think of anything he could say to make the principal understand, but the words wouldn't come. He felt trapped, humiliated, and utterly helpless.
"Enough, Andrew," Principal Johnson said firmly. "I know this isn't easy, but your mother has made it clear how serious this is. We have no choice but to enforce this rule. Now, I want you to go to the kitchen and explain your condition. Because your food needs to be prepared for such a long time before consumption you will from now on always go to the kitchen first thing in the morning to allow them to... prepare your lunch. You'll then continue your day as if nothing's different. I won't tell your peers without your permission, but I encourage you to be open about your condition. It may help them understand and support you better."
Andrew left the principal's office, feeling utterly defeated. He couldn't believe that Casandra's cruel prank had worked so effectively. As he walked towards the school kitchen, he felt the eyes of his classmates following him, curious about why he had been called to the principal's office.
When he entered the kitchen, the staff looked at him with a mixture of disgust and sympathy. "H-Hello... I'm- I'm here for my special meal preparation," Andrew stammered, his face burning with shame. "I have a... a medical condition that requires my food to be... processed in a specific way."
The head chef, a middle-aged woman named Martha, stared at Andrew with contempt and disgust. "Follow me." She said in short, harsh tone.
Andrew followed Martha into the back of the kitchen, his heart pounding in his chest. The other kitchen staff watched him with a mix of pity and revulsion as he passed by.
Martha led him to a small, secluded area of the kitchen, hidden from view. "You're vile, you know that? I won't have my exquisite culinary creations be tainted by having them be inserted into..." She tapered off, not even wanting to speak the words. She opened a drawer and took out a very large syringe with a hollow, bulbous tip. She then grabbed a pot filled with a gray mush. "Oatmeal. It'll absorb the taste of your ass making it taste terrible, but that's what you deserve, freak." She started filling the large syringe with the cold, unappetizing oatmeal.
Andrew felt his stomach churn at the sight of the syringe and the gray mush. He couldn't believe this was happening to him. "P-Please, you don't have to do this," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "It's all a lie, a cruel prank!"
Martha glared at him, her eyes filled with disdain. "Your mother and the principal both confirmed it, boy. Now, pull down your pants and bend over, or do you want me to add chili powder to your 'meal'? I will not go easy on you."
Andrew felt tears streaming down his face as he slowly pulled down his pants and underwear, exposing his bare bottom to Martha. He bent over, gripping the edge of the table for support, as he felt the cold syringe press against his tight hole.
Martha didn't hesitate. She shoved it inside him without any care, making Andrew scream out in pain. She then pushed down the syringe's handle, pumping the cold oatmeal inside him. When she was done she roughly pulled out the syringe and started filling it again. "Pucker your hole, if you spill anything you'll be licking it up from the floor," she warned, her voice dripping with disgust.
Andrew, tears streaming down his face, did as he was told, feeling utterly humiliated and violated. Martha repeated the process twice more, each time more painful than the last, until Andrew's stomach felt heavy and bloated with the cold, gray mush. The need to poop was overwhelming, but he knew he'd be in huge trouble if he let anything slip.
"There, one liter of oatmeal for a hungry boy." She then took out a metal butt plug and held it in front of his face. "Spit on it." It was large and intimidating, it would hurt going in, but it would be able to hold the oatmeal inside him. Andrew, feeling utterly degraded, spat on the metal butt plug, lubricating it with his saliva.
Martha then roughly inserted the plug into Andrew's stretched hole, causing him to whimper in pain and humiliation. "There, that should keep everything in place," she said coldly. "Now, pull up your pants and get to class. Lunch is in four hours, so you'll hold it inside you for one hour longer than necessary, but we want to be on the safe side, don't we?"
Andrew whimpered, he felt like he was going to explode from the pressure in his gut, but he knew he had no choice. He nodded meekly, pulling up his pants gingerly, feeling the weight of the oatmeal inside him shift as he moved.
As Andrew walked back to class, he felt the eyes of his classmates on him, wondering what had happened in the kitchen. He sat down at his desk, trying to ignore the uncomfortable pressure in his gut and the snickers of his classmates.
Casandra had clearly already leaked the news of his 'condition' as he saw people whispering and pointing at him, some giggling, some looking disgusted. Andrew felt utterly humiliated, wishing he could just disappear.
As the bell rang, signaling the end of the class, Andrew felt a small sense of relief wash over him. However, as his classmates filed out of the room, Mrs. Young, his favorite teacher, called out to him.
"Andrew, could you please stay behind for a moment?" she asked gently.
Andrew's heart sank, but he obeyed, slowly gathering his belongings and approaching her desk. Mrs. Young looked at him with a mixture of pity and concern, her kind eyes filled with sympathy.
"I heard about your... condition," she said softly, her voice filled with compassion. "I want you to know that I'm here to support you in any way I can."
Andrew felt tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. He wanted to tell her the truth, to beg her to help him expose Casandra's cruel prank, but the words caught in his throat.
"I... I don't..." he stammered, his voice thick with emotion. "It's not real... The principal doesn't-" He started to confess, but Mrs. Young interrupted him.
"Shh, I know it's hard, but you can't lie about this, Andrew. Your mother and the principal both confirmed it," she said gently, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I promise I'll be very vigilant in ensuring you follow your dietary restrictions. Under my watch, you won't accidentally ingest anything that hasn't been properly prepared."
Andrew's heart sank even further, realizing that even Mrs. Young believed the lie. He nodded numbly, feeling utterly defeated.
"I'll also help you internalize that this is real. It's not good to lie, especially not to yourself." Mrs. Young's face turned stern, but her pity still shined through. "I want you to write 'I have a condition that requires me to only eat food that has been in my ass for at least three hours' one hundred times. It's important that you accept your condition, Andrew."
Andrew felt a wave of despair wash over him as he nodded, taking the piece of paper Mrs. Young handed him. He sat down at his desk, his hand shaking as he began to write the humiliating sentence over and over again.
As he wrote, he could feel the weight of the oatmeal shifting inside him, a constant reminder of his degradation. The metal butt plug felt like it was stretching him open, making it hard to focus on anything else.
After what felt like an eternity, Andrew finished writing the sentence one hundred times. He handed the paper to Mrs. Young, who looked it over with a satisfied nod.
"Very good, Andrew," she said kindly. "If I ever catch you lying and saying that your condition isn't real again I'll punish you harder." Her tone was kind, but serious.
Andrew nodded, feeling utterly broken. He gathered his belongings and left the classroom, heading towards the cafeteria for lunch.
As Andrew walked to his math class, he tried to console himself with the thought that this nightmare would end once he got home. He could explain everything to his mother, and together they would clear up this terrible misunderstanding. Little did he know, Casandra was already one step ahead of him.
In the school nurse's office, Casandra was putting the finishing touches on her second forged letter, this one addressed to Andrew's mother. When she read this letter even his mother would believe that Andrew had this strange condition and that he needed to follow this degrading treatment at home as well.
Meanwhile, Andrew entered the math classroom, his heart heavy with dread. As he sat down at his desk, the metal butt plug clinked against the metal chair, causing several of his classmates to turn and stare. Andrew felt his face burn with shame as he tried to ignore their snickers and whispers.
The math teacher, Mr. Thompson, entered the room and began the lesson, but Andrew found it difficult to concentrate. Mr. Thompson kept a close eye on Andrew as he taught, making sure the young boy didn't try to eat anything that hadn't been properly prepared according to his "condition."
The weight of the oatmeal inside him and the uncomfortable pressure of the butt plug made it hard for Andrew to focus on the lesson. He shifted in his seat, trying to find a position that would alleviate the discomfort, but to no avail.
As the clock ticked closer to lunchtime, Andrew's stomach began to grumble, despite the oatmeal filling it. It was a strange feeling, being both hungry and full at the same time. He knew that he would have to face the humiliation of eating the oatmeal that had been inside him for hours, but he also couldn't wait to get the painful butt plug out.
Finally, the bell rang, signaling the end of math class and the beginning of lunch. Andrew stood up slowly, feeling the weight of the oatmeal shift inside him as he did so. He made his way to the cafeteria, his heart pounding with anxiety.
As Andrew walked towards the cafeteria, he desperately tried to think of a way out of his predicament. Maybe he could slip away to the bathroom and quickly expel the oatmeal, then pretend that he already ate it. It would still be humiliating, but at least he wouldn't have to actually consume the disgusting, ass-flavored mush.
Just as he was about to make his escape, Mrs. Young appeared beside him, her kind eyes filled with concern. "Andrew, were you trying to sneak away to the bathrooms? I thought you might try something like this," she said gently, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I know this isn't easy for you, but you need to eat. Growing boys like you require proper nutrition, even if it comes from... unconventional methods."
Andrew felt his heart sink as he realized his plan had been foiled. Mrs. Young led him towards the cafeteria, her grip on his shoulder firm but comforting. As they entered the crowded lunchroom, Andrew felt the weight of dozens of eyes on him, watching his every move.
Mrs. Young guided him to kitchen. The staff lead the two of them to the secluded room in the back. On the counter a large, empty bowl laid and toilet paper. Mrs. Young was disgusted with what was about to happen, but she was determined to make sure Andrew would complete his task. She closed the door behind them and turned to Andrew.
"Alright, Andrew, let's get this over with," she placed the bowl on the ground and turned to Andrew with a face of disgust and sympathy. "I would love to leave the room to give you privacy, but you've already showed me once that you can't be trusted to follow your dietary restrictions on your own. I'll turn around, but I'm staying in the room to make sure you expel everything into the bowl. We'll then eat in the cafeteria with the other kids."
Andrew's face burned with shame as he realized what Mrs. Young was asking him to do. He couldn't believe he was being forced to shit oatmeal into a bowl while his teacher stood just a few feet away, listening to every humiliating sound.
Mrs. Young made sure that Andrew was at least unbuckling his pants before she turned around, facing the wall.
Andrew felt tears streaming down his face as he pulled down his pants and underwear, exposing his bare bottom once again. Sobbing Andrew knelt down over the bowl and reached around to his butt. The metal plug was stuck tightly, and it took considerable force to pry it loose. When the plug finally popped free, he couldn't suppress a loud moan of pain. The sensation of his asshole snapping shut was excruciating.
Andrew began to push, feeling his sore asshole start opening up and a log of now warm oatmeal. The previously gray mush was now brown and had the distinct texture of hard logs. His large intestine had sucked up the excess water from the oatmeal, making it appear almost indistinguishable to normal poop.
Andrew felt tears streaming down his face as he pushed, feeling the warm, brown logs of oatmeal exiting his body and landing in the bowl with a sickening plop. The smell was overwhelming, a mixture of oatmeal and feces that made his stomach churn.
As he continued to expel the oatmeal, Andrew made a desperate decision. He couldn't bear the thought of eating the entire bowl of ass-flavored mush, so he stopped pushing, leaving about a third of the oatmeal still inside his large intestine.
He quickly wiped himself clean, using far too much toilet paper, making sure that his asshole was completely free from any trace of oatmeal. Once he was satisfied, he pulled up his pants and underwear, feeling the remaining oatmeal shift inside him as he did so.
"Okay, Mrs. Young, I'm-I'm done," Andrew said, his voice shaking with emotion. He didn't want to tell her that he still felt the needed to poop. He feared that she might force him to finish if she knew he had held back.
Mrs. Young turned around, her face a mixture of relief and disgust as she saw the bowl filled with the brown, log-shaped oatmeal. "Very good, Andrew," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "Doesn't that look... tasty? Like chocolate soft serve?"
Andrew couldn't believe his ears. Was Mrs. Young really trying to put a positive spin on this horrifying situation?
"Now, let's go eat with the others, shall we?" Mrs. Young picked up the bowl and led Andrew towards the cafeteria, carrying the disgusting contents like it was nothing out of the ordinary.
As they entered the lunchroom, all eyes turned to Andrew and Mrs. Young, watching them with a mixture of curiosity and revulsion. Casandra had the widest smile on her face when she saw Andrew's tear-stained face and the bowl of shit-like oatmeal. She grinned victoriously, knowing that her prank had worked even better than she had hoped.
Mrs. Young led Andrew to a table where some of his classmates were sitting, including Casandra. She placed the bowl in front of Andrew, who stared at it in horror, unable to believe what was happening.
"You're Andrew's friends, right?" Mrs. Young asked the group of students. "I'm sure he would appreciate your support and encouragement as he eats his specially prepared meal."
Casandra smirked, her eyes gleaming with malicious delight. "Of course, Mrs. Young. Andrew told us about his condition during math class." Casandra lied.
"I did not-" Andrew tried to protest, but Mrs. Young cut him off.
"Andrew, what did I tell you about lying? I think it's very good that you've shared your condition with your classmates. They'll be able to also help you come to terms with your new condition. But you can't take it back after telling them. Isn't that right, Casandra?"
"Yes, Mrs. Young," Casandra replied, her voice dripping with false sincerity. "We're all here to support Andrew and make sure he eats his... special meal."
Andrew felt trapped, surrounded by his classmates who were watching him with a mixture of amusement and disgust. They had all already finished their meals, so all of their attention was on him.
As Mrs. Young left to get a spoon for him, Casandra leaned in close to Andrew and whispered in his ear. "Enjoy your meal, twerp. And don't you worry, this won't stop for a long time." Casandra's words were cryptic, and he worried what she meant.
He stared down at the brown, shit-flavored, logs of oatmeal, feeling his stomach churn with nausea. He couldn't believe he was actually going to have to eat this disgusting mess in front of his entire class.
Mrs. Young returned with a spoon and handed it to Andrew. "Here you go, Andrew," she said kindly, her voice filled with encouragement. "Take your time and enjoy your meal. If he doesn't finish everything, please come and get me," she added to Casandra before leaving the cafeteria.
Andrew picked up the spoon with a shaking hand, feeling the weight of his classmates' stares bearing down on him. He took a deep breath and scooped up a small amount of the brown oatmeal, bringing it to his lips.
As he reluctantly put the spoon in his mouth, the taste of shit and oatmeal overwhelmed his senses, making him gag. He forced himself to swallow, feeling the disgusting mush slide down his throat and into his stomach. He felt like he was going to throw up, but he knew he had no choice but to continue.
"Wow, that's so gross. That's only three hours, huh?" Casandra said loudly, her voice filled with mock sympathy. "Just imagine how much worse it would taste if you had to keep it in for longer!"
The other students at the table laughed, watching Andrew with a mixture of amusement and revulsion as he forced himself to eat the disgusting oatmeal.
Andrew could feel the threat in her words. She had introduced the school to this condition, she could certainly make it worse for him. He shuddered at the thought of having to keep food inside him for even longer periods of time, the taste and texture becoming increasingly revolting with each passing hour.
He looked at Casandra pleadingly, but that only made her smile wider. She was enjoying every moment of his torment, and Andrew knew that she would only continue to make his life a living hell.
As he forced down another spoonful of the disgusting oatmeal, he only needed to make it to the end of the day, he thought. Once he got home, he could explain everything to his mother and put an end to this nightmare.
But little did Andrew know, Casandra's second forged letter was already on its way to his mother, ensuring that his torment would continue even after he left the school grounds.
The letter, written in the school nurse's handwriting and signed with her name, explained Andrew's "condition" in detail, telling her that the school was already informed and had laid out a dietary plan for him. Of course, the number attached was not to nurse but to Casandra in case she had questions.
Jane Smith sat in her home office, her heart racing as she read the letter from the school nurse. She couldn't believe what she was reading - her son, Andrew, had a rare medical condition that required him to consume his food only after it had been marinating in his rectum for a minimum of three hours.
With shaking hands, she reached for her phone and dialed the number listed at the bottom of the letter, hoping to get some answers from the school nurse.
Casandra, who was expecting this call, answered on the second ring, putting on her most professional voice. "Hello, this is Nurse White speaking."
"Hello, Nurse White," Jane said, trying to keep her voice steady. "This is Jane Smith, Andrew's mother. I just received your letter about his... condition. I... I don't understand. How could this happen?"
Casandra put on a sympathetic tone, trying to hide her glee at the success of her prank. "Ms. Smith, this condition is very rare, it doesn't even have a name, but it is very much real, and very deadly. Your son, Andrew, got an extreme allergic reaction this morning from simply chewing a chewing gum. We're lucky he only swallowed the exterior flavor of the gum and spat it out. If he had ingested anymore, he could have gone into anaphylactic shock. It's crucial that he follows this dietary restriction to ensure his safety."
Jane gasped, her hand flying to her mouth in shock. "Oh my god, I had no idea. Is he... is he going to be okay?"
Casandra smiled wickedly, enjoying the sound of Jane's distress. "Yes, Ms. Smith, Andrew will be fine, however, he doesn't seem to trust our diagnosis, he has tried lying about it multiple times already. He told multiple members of faculty that it was fake and that he didn't have this condition. He's having a hard time accepting it, which is why I wanted to contact you directly. We need your help to ensure that Andrew follows his dietary restrictions at home as well."
Jane nodded, tears streaming down her face as she listened to Casandra's lies. "Of course, Nurse White. I'll do whatever it takes to keep my son safe and healthy. Can you please explain to me exactly what I need to do?"
Casandra grinned, "Everything he ingests has to have marinated in his ass for *at least* three hours. However, longer is preferred as it reduces the risk of an allergic reaction. The longer the food is in his ass the better, however, it will make it taste worse. I'll leave the exact duration up to you, but I recommend starting with four to five hours and increasing as needed. It's also important that Andrew learns to accept his condition and not lie about it. I would suggest punishing him if he tries to pretend that he doesn't have this condition. Force him to tell his closest friends and family in person. He'll most certainly try to eat food when you're not looking, so I would also suggest getting a large ball gag that you can lock onto his head whenever he's out of your sight to ensure he doesn't ingest anything that hasn't been properly prepared."
'Large ball gag with lock.' Jane took notes as she listened to Casandra speak. She couldn't believe what she was hearing, but she knew she had to do whatever it took to keep her son safe.
"Thank you, Nurse White," Jane said, wiping away her tears. "I'll make sure Andrew follows these rules at home. I appreciate you taking the time to explain everything to me."
"It's my pleasure, Ms. Smith," Casandra replied, barely able to contain her glee. "We're all here to support Andrew and ensure his well-being. Please don't get discouraged if he gets mad or sad or tries to convince you that this is all a prank or a lie. It's very common for children with this condition to go through a period of denial and anger. This might be blunt, but it's important, if he ingests anything that hasn't been in ass for the specified time, he will die a painful death. This is only for his safety, no matter how upset he gets."
Jane nodded, her heart heavy with the weight of this new responsibility. "I understand, Nurse White. Thank you again for everything."
As Jane hung up the phone, she felt a sense of determination wash over her. She would do whatever it took to keep her son safe, even if it meant forcing him to follow these disgusting and degrading rules.
Little did she know, Casandra was on the other end of the line, laughing maniacally.
For the remainder of the school day, Andrew managed to avoid any further humiliations. Mrs. Young kept a close eye on him, ensuring that he didn't try to eat anything else, but otherwise left him alone.
When Andrew needed to use the bathroom, Mrs. Young accompanied him, standing outside the stall to make sure he didn't try to sneak any food. This gave Andrew the opportunity to expel the remaining oatmeal, allowing him to feel a sense of normalcy again.
"Andrew, I know this day has been hard, but you did very well. It'll only get easier from here," Mrs. Young said kindly as she walked Andrew to his final class of the day. "Remember, if you ever need to talk or need help with your condition, I'm always here for you."
Andrew nodded, feeling a small sense of gratitude towards Mrs. Young despite the humiliation he had endured. "Thank you, Mrs. Young," he said quietly, managing a small smile.
As the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, Andrew felt a wave of relief wash over him. He quickly gathered his belongings and rushed out of the classroom, eager to leave the horrors of the day behind him.