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How many failing grades could one student possibly receive? The rest of the class was doing well--passing, at least--but Jinx, who was present as often as she was absent, had received a failing grade on every assignment and exam she had turned in regardless of how Ignatius instructed. He would have been beyond surprised if one day she turned in a paper that deserved a D. The semester was half over. To pass, Jinx would have to receive a B minimum on every exam and assignment for the remainder of the term. Ignatius didn't exactly enjoy failing students, but she was a lost cause. And where was she getting to when she was absent from class? More than once she'd attended smelling like fresh musk that was either from exercise or sex--Ignatius couldn't determine which. One of those two activities would lead her straight into a disciplinary meeting that most pupils didn't walk away from.

Speak of the devil and she'll come. A slim little ocelot knocked on Ignatius' open door and walked in with the air of someone accustomed to getting what she wanted. Her lower lip stuck out in a fake pout as she slunk over to Ignatius' desk and alighted onto the chair in front of it.

"Professor Copperhorn," she trilled while she played with a lock of her hair, "I looked at my grades today and they aren't doing too good."

"Aye," Ignatius said. He began to slide the paper he'd been grading across the desk to her and she leaned in close before it was in front of her--closer to Ignatius than a worried student was right to get. "Yer on t' verge o' failin' if ye dun't shape up, lassie."

"Oh no," she said with a whine that Ignatius didn't pity. She looked up at him and fluttered her eyelashes. "Is there anything I can do to get my grades up?"

"Aye," Ignatius repeated. "Study, lass. Study yer right ass off an' maebe ye'll pass."

She glanced from the paper to Ignatius. "Is there"--she fluttered her eyelashes again--"anything else I can do?"

"What did ye 'ave in mind, eh?" Ignatius wasn't born last year. He knew what she was playing at.

Jinx took that as acceptance. She stood up and rounded Ignatius' desk, and he turned in his office chair to face her. Even sitting, he was looking down at the small ocelot, who placed her hand on his chest and combed her fingers through the shaggy fur there. "Well...you know."

"Aye," Ignatius said for the third time, and leaned back. "Ye've dun this before, lassie--I cun tael. Ye know what to deh." He flicked his wrist and a gust of wind shut his office door. It locked with a click that made Jinx's ears twitch.

She flashed a sly smile and got on her knees in front of her professor. She was then eye-level with the massive bulge in his pants, larger than her entire head. Ignatius wondered how such a tiny thing--Jinx was four and a half feet tall at the most, a sharp contrast to Ignatius' six-foot height--planned to handle someone as large as he was. She herself paused as though she'd never fully comprehended the size of him, then leaned in and unfastened his belt. Little Jinx paused and gulped.

"What's t' matter, eh? Can't 'andle t' size of meh?"

She looked up at Ignatius' smirking face with wide eyes. She knew she wasn't supposed to be doing this. She knew she was breaking the rules and what that entailed. If she couldn't do what she'd promised Professor Copperhorn she could do...

Ignatius' pants could hardly contain the bulge of his sheath and balls. When Jinx unbuttoned and unzipped his fly, the bulge of his sheath, still covered by underwear, burst from the opening. It took her a full thirty seconds to heft the weight of his dappled sheath out. Once the struggle to free his bulge was finished, Jinx nuzzled up under Ignatius' freed sheath, which rested heavy along her snout and soaked it with Ignatius' scent. She nuzzled closer to his fly, which his balls were still trapped behind, and gave a tantalizing lick.

Jinx pulled back and looked up at Ignatius again with a flirty smile. She held his sheath by the base with both her hands, fingers threaded through the hair there infused with elemental magic, and dipped her tongue into the opening. The tip of her feline tongue, textured with little bumps that added much more sensation than a standard smooth tongue, touched the very end of Ignatius' cock and was wet and warm against him. While she worked him with her hands, kneading up and down, masturbating him with his own sheath and encouraging his cock to emerge into her little mouth, Ignatius thought that maybe this was the right place for a pussycat like Jinx. Ignatius' cockhead, black as his horns, peeked out, and Jinx ran her tongue along every bit of cock that slid into view. Base to tip, she bathed Ignatius' cock with her tongue.

"Atta gal," he said through a smirk. "Ye were bern fer this."

She glanced up with a smile while she dragged her tongue over the tapered head of his cock. She seemed encouraged under the praise and continued to lavish attention on every inch of it while more and more emerged from his sheath. Once Ignatius' cock finally stopped growing, concern touched her expression. She looked up the length of it, to the professor, who smirked down at her. Fully unsheathed, Ignatius' cock rested against his chest and was bigger around than the pussycat's bicep.

She stood, lifted up her skirt, pulled her lacy panties down, and stepped one leg out of them, leaving them to dangle on the other ankle. Ignatius grabbed his cock by the base and tilted it toward her. His cockhead rested against her breasts.

Jinx glanced between Ignatius and his cock. She gulped and, still standing, leaned over, face even with Ignatius' cockhead, and continued to lap at it. She made no attempt to be dainty or delicate. She paid attention to and drooled along every inch of skin to wet Ignatius for her while she wrapped both her hands around his sheath, rubbing the base of it and splaying her fingers out wider, into his pants and across his balls. She worked down into a kneel, slicking his cock with her saliva down to the base, and gave him one last, long lick from base to tip as she stood. Jinx looked up at him with her big brown eyes.

"Atta gal," Ignatius said. "Ye got me nice an' wet for ye." He stood, towering over her, and she took a step back. "Over t' desk, Jinxie lass."

She stepped closer to the desk, facing it, and he lifted her by her legs while Jinx kept herself upright with her palms flat on the top of the desk. Bent over like that, feetpaws dangling above the floor, Ignatius lifted her skirt up and pressed his cock against her. Were he anyone else, it wouldn't have been possible for the little ocelot to take him, but Ignatius had a store of magic energy which he could use at any moment to make even things like this possible. He ground his cockhead against her pussy and clit and she arched her back and mewled, tail raising for him.

"'At's it," he said through an indulgent chuckle. He gripped her by her slender hips and dragged her back at the same moment he thrust forward. She mewled like a kitten when his cockhead sank into her. Jinx was like a vise around his cock--so tight it was almost unpleasant. Ignatius thrust again but could only force a third of his cock into her before his tip pressed snug against the barrier of her cervix. She put her arm back on his shoulder as if to urge him to stop, so he did.

Ignatius took what of her he could get. He pulled out completely and she whimpered, then mewled again when he rubbed his cockhead against her and, again, sank into her. He did this a few more times until she was so wet he could smell her, then leaned over her and slammed into her so hard his desk jolted.

"Pro-professor Copperhorn," she gasped when he sank into her again. Her words soon became a tangled mess of moaning as he pounded her, pressing in until he bumped her cervix and then doing it all over again.

"There ye go," he grunted in her ear. "Atta girl. Yer wetter'n th' ocean."

Jinx was sloppy-wet. Her dew created a layer between them that made a muffled, yet audible slap every time he dragged her against him. Ignatius reached a hand around to her front and teased her clit, and with a spasm against him and a deep, whining purr, she came while he continued to pound her without signs of stopping. When the last shudders of orgasm were leaving her breathless body, he wrapped a hand around each of Jinx's thighs and picked her up so that she rested back against his chest. He fell backward and down into his office chair while he dragged her legs down. With a firm thrust and a pop Ignatius felt through his entire cock, his cockhead pushed through her cervix and deeper into her. She keened as he dragged her down until he was buried entirely in her, and with a grunt, his cockhead flared and he came. The ram emptied his massive balls into her and pressed one hand to her stomach so he could feel as well as see her insides expand from the torrent of his climax.

She moaned and shuddered against him while her belly bloated, and Ignatius growled in her ear, "Aye, lassie. I 'ope yer ready to 'ave a nice litter of kit'ns in this belly a yers." He ran his hand over her bloated belly--expanded like she was already going to deliver his kittens--and she trembled against him and moaned.

After several seconds of catching their breaths, a still-trembling Jinx asked, "So...Professor Copperhorn." She leaned her head back and smiled up at him. "About my grades..."

"Eh, what aboot 'em?"

She tensed. "I thought if I--then you were going to--because you said--"

"I said not'in of the sert." Ignatius smirked down at her scared face. "I sed ye knew what t' deh. I nev'r said Ah'd change yer graed."

"But--but!" She leaned forward in futile attempt to scramble off of his cock and run for her life, but he was seated so deeply in her she couldn't leave.

"Ye knew ye were breakin' t' rules," he said while he grabbed her arms by the biceps and forced them against her sides. Jinx continued to squirm. "And ye know what we 'ere do t' rule breakers, lassie."

"Wait!" she pleaded. "I'm sorry! I'm so--"

Ignatius took his head into her mouth and muffled her protests. He started to feed her down his throat and she squirmed and clawed for fistfuls of his fur, but couldn't find grip. Ignatius' bulging throat smothered her cries of protest and apology as he leaned forward and took her deeper into his maw until her shoulders had disappeared inside. He clamped down on what was in his mouth to prevent her from struggling backward and leaned back, dragging her bodily off of his cock. Her cervix massaged the last bits of pleasure out of him as she came off of it, and with a pop, his flared cockhead left her.

In the back of his throat, Ignatius thought he heard a muffled "please" as he continued to feed her into him. Her tiny fingers continued to try to anchor onto something to keep her outside of him as he fed her into his gullet just past her upper arms and readjusted his grip to her hips. Jinx grasped for his horns to hold onto, but his gulps were far stronger than she was. With another swallow, she slid farther down his throat, up to her chest in ram gullet. Ignatius released her, resting his hands on his chair arms, and gave another gulp that took Jinx into him up to the waist. With a final gulp he sucked in her bloated belly, and with a loud slurp, he sucked her flailing legs and tail in like a spaghetti noodle and condemned her to his stomach.

Ignatius leaned back and patted his bulging belly, hands moving over the bumps visible from the outside while Jinx struggled within him as his stomach churned and sloshed. Her muffled cries for help went unanswered while her struggles grew weaker and weaker still, until there were no more bumps appearing and disappearing on Ignatius' large belly, and the tremors from his prey turned into shivers and then faded entirely.

Ignatius burped, reached into his mouth, and pulled a pair of lacy pink underwear from between his teeth. He dropped them into the wastebasket beneath his desk, belched, and leaned back in his creaking chair while he patted his full belly. "Ye made a fine lunch, lassie. I was almus' werried Ah'd 'ave not'in to eat tehday."

---

An hour and a half later, Ignatius was standing in front of the whiteboard in his class and jotting down bullet points for the day's lecture. His stomach still bulged from his lunch, and several savvy students had already exchanged nervous glances between themselves. They didn't know for sure who had fed Professor Copperhorn, but they knew that one desk in their classroom which was occasionally occupied was empty that day.

"Time fer attendance," Ignatius said while he put a cap on the dry erase marker. He picked up the clipboard on his desk and went through the list of names.

"Breydon?"

"Here."

"Christina?"

"Present."

At the very bottom of the list was the sole student absent from the class.

"Jinx? Where's th' lass?" Ignatius' stomach rumbled and he sat his hand low on his belly with a smirk. "Ah. Ah I know where she's gun' to."

Ignatius walked to Jinx's desk and turned around so his ass was facing it. He unbuckled his belt, pulled his pants down, and let out a loud, long fart over the empty desk and chair. The students seated around recoiled in their chairs and pinched their noses against the flatulence.

With a grunt, Ignatius' asshole flexed and he started to push his digested meal out of him. A long, firm log of shit hit the desk with a wet thud and slid across it and into the seat, where it coiled up until it overflowed back onto the desk. The shit was speckled with bits of pearly white that shifted around in the filth until some of the pieces became more visible. They were intact bones, every last bit of flesh and tendon dissolved completely away. As the shit overflowed the top of the desk and wet clumps dripped onto the floor, one of the bones shifted and became visible as the skull of a tiny feline, eyes and muzzle barely visible above the shit that engulfed it and the remainder of Jinx's small skeleton. Ignatius grunted again and a femur made its way past his pulsing asshole along with the last of his filth, topping the pile of shit like the cherry on a sundae.

With one last fart that blasted the scent of Ignatius' digested meal around the room, Ignatius finished taking attendance. He pulled his pants back up, secured his belt, and went back to the whiteboard as though nothing were amiss. The live portion of the class sat, horrified while they stared at the remains of their former classmate, which coiled over and overflowed the desk the student would have occupied in life. Clumps of filth fell from around Jinx's tiny skeleton and continually plopped onto the floor.

"Looks like ev'ryon's 'ere, aye?" Ignatius said as he uncapped his dry erase marker again. The class's attention snapped toward him. "Now, fer tadae's lesson..."