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Welcome Back to Redrum

By: Berserker B

"Welcome, one and all, to the Redrum Transitional School for young men," sang the tall bobcat from behind the podium. He stood atop the stage of the auditorium, looking proud and important, facing the throng of fresh new students with power and authority. "I am your vice-principal, Mr. Bartholomew Job. You will refer to me as Mr. Job or Sir while you reside here." He paused for a moment, as if to add some tension to his statement. "All of you are here because either your family or society has deemed it necessary that you require the special care and attention that comes from our highly trained staff in order to grow up into fine citizens who will one day serve your role in society. Some of you are even here of your own volition - that means 'choice,' for those in remedial english - and to you I am proud that you were able to take the step in the right direction and better your life."

Mark was unsure, but he thought, for just a brief moment, he saw Mr. Job smirk. Mark Rummer was among the some couple hundred new students to attend Redrum this year. Poor grades and a dark future of being kicked out of his parents' house was what brought Mark to search for this place. It had seemed to the canine, a black labrador with spotted tongue like a chow's, that this 'Transitional School,' (whatever the hell that meant) was the perfect place to escape a life of homelessness while staying in school. Better yet, it was entirely free!

Like many of the students around him, Mark took in half of what Mr. Job was saying. He'd heard these speeches before: Working hard, up-to-date teaching methods, a commitment to community, a strive to be the best you can be. Blah, blah, blah. Mark did not mean any disrespect, but he had secretly hoped that this school would be a little... different from the rest.

"And now that I have all the government mandated bullcrap out of the way, I think it's time to let you in on the reality of your situation." Everyone in the room, Mark especially, perked up at this sudden and uncanny shift in behavior. Mr. Job moved away from the podium. A couple of stage hands rushed in and pulled it off stage. The bobcat paced the stage, hands behind him, his chest pushed out, and his eyes fiery with power. "You probably all think this is just another school. Just another government funded system that you can slack off in. Many of you are here because you are troublemakers." He came to a stop and folded his arms in front of his chest. A smile, one that reminded Mark of something out of a horror movie villain, painted itself upon the bobcat's face. "I love troublemakers. More correctly, I love what we here at Redrum do to troublemakers."

Mr. Job raised a hand and snapped his fingers. The curtain behind him began to rise, revealing a sight too shocking for the average person.

Mark nearly jumped from his seat at the sight before him. There, on the stage of a school, were three young men, probably around his age, standing with nooses around their necks on what looked to be a real life wooden gallows. In the next instant he realized that all three of them were naked. The trio, a lion, a tiger, and a bear, stood nearly upright. Their legs were bound tightly together and their arms were tied behind their backs.

Many of the students began to shout in shock and horror. Some were already out of their seats, looking ready to run for their lives but too stunned to move. Mr. Job silenced the group with a single shout. "Silence!" His voice echoed throughout the room. "I advise any of you who plan on running out of this room to rethink your actions. If you so much as step away from your seat you will be immediately restrained and taken for punishment. If a group of you decide to be heroes, you will be executed without hesitation. Now..." his voice grew calmer, but still remained menacing. "...Everyone please take your seats and I will finish this presentation." He gave them a few minutes to calm down, which everyone eventually did.

Mark sat curled in his chair, his legs pulled up onto the seat and his arms wrapped around them. What had he gotten himself into? He closed his eyes and prayed that this was just a really bad dream.

"Here at Redrum," Mr. Job continued, "we strive to make pathetic pieces of shit like you turn into fertilizer that can help grow the flowers of society. But gardens are often bereft with weeds. We see the best solution to a weed problem to be a simple one."

A new figure strode onto the stage. He was a bighorn sheep, taller than Mr. Job was. He wore a tight sleeveless shirt around his muscular physique, and a pair of very form fitting shorts. What was more, his fur was completely pink. He sauntered onto the stage like some kind of over-acting thespian, every movement he made seemed to be some way of showing off. He seemed a light-hearted contrast to the dark situation before the students.

"This is Mr. Percival Ram," said Mr. Job, introducing his friend when he came close. "You will refer to him a-"

"You can all call me Mr. Percy or Coach Ram, if you like. When we get better acquainted, you can call me daddy too, but that will come later." He gave a wink to the awed audience.

Mr. Job rolled his eyes and sighed. "Mr. Ram here will be your gym instructor. He is also a lover of-"

"Nice tight asses!"

"Of punishing rowdy young men who break into the weight room at night."

Coach Ram and Mr. Job looked at each other for a moment in silence. "Oh right!" chimed the bighorn, seemingly now realizing he was at an execution. He bounced, almost literally, up to the gallows. He climbed the steps and, with an aura of glee, strode behind the tiger and groped his crotch. "These naughty boys broke curfew, broke into the gym, broke into the weight room, and tried to steal some of the equipment." He talked to the audience, yet it also seemed like he was taunting the trio as well. "After getting caught, they were sentenced to hang for their rule breaking. I suggested a less harsh punishment, one that involved leather, whips, some handcuffs-"

"Et-hem!" Mr. Job coughed.

"Oh right... But I was overruled and they have to die." He slid over to the lion. "Such a shame. Such a fine piece of ass, wasted." He gave the lion's rump a very firm grope and then a resounding slap. "But not is all lost," Coach Ram said with a smile. He moved, finally, over to the bear. "These three will serve as a proper example for all of you. Not only that," he hugged the bear by the side, leaned in and licked the ursine's cheek, "but this one is going to be stuffed and turned into a fun new sex toy for the teacher's lounge."

The bear gave a shudder, and in awe of the situation, his dick began to grow hard. Mark could not believe his eyes. He wanted to close them, but something, something kept them open. Coach Ram enjoyed the bear's arousal, happily assisting it in growing thicker, harder, closer... In his core, Mark felt a strange and very confusing feeling.

After a minute or two of Coach Ram's teasing, Mr. Job spoke up. "Percival, if you are done playing around, I have a presentation to finish and paperwork to complete."

The ram looked down at his coworker with the eyes of a child being denied his favorite toy. Coach Ram scowled, but the bobcat returned with his own scowl. After an intense few seconds, Coach Ram complied. "Fine. Fine." He gave the bear a final kiss. "I'll see you in the teacher's lounge, sexy," he loudly whispered before stepping back and grabbing a long lever on the floor. With a hard tug, Coach Ram pulled the lever and released the trap doors underneath the doomed students' feet.

The very wind in Mark's lungs escaped him when he heard the ropes crack. The three bodies fell so quickly, it was hard to believe it was over, and that he had just witnessed three people die by hanging. But it was not over, not just yet. Mark leaned forward, breaking his curled up position to better stare at the show now before him. The ropes were not long enough to ensure a quick demise; the lion, the tiger, and the bear were not dead... yet.

The ropes held tight against their necks, stretching them with the weight of their bodies. They swung slightly, swaying like chimes in the breeze. Their faces contorted in pain from the lack of air and the tight grasp around their throats. The only parts of their bodies they had the ability to move were their lower legs and feet, and they kicked wildly in the air. It was, Mark thought, almost comical how close they were to the ground, and yet how far away they really were.

The situation took a strange turn as Coach Ram looked as though he was about ready to burst his tight fitting pants any second. His cock, the contour of the massive thing clearly visible against the strained fabric, had already wet the shorts with a copious amount of pre-cum. The ram kept his hands off his dick, however, and seemed, instead, to be getting off from the show alone. His moans cut the gasps of the trio in and out. He seemed to make no effort to hide his growing pleasure, and even Mr. Job appeared to watch the three with an odd level of intensity. The first one to die was the lion. His gasps sputtered to silence, and the last bit of flailing he did ended abruptly. Coach Ram clung to frame, his face telling all how close he was. When the tiger's movements ceased, that was the last straw. The bighorn bleeted and shuddered, and the only thing that kept the massive amount of cum from shooting all over the stage was the fact that most of it was caught in his shorts.

White trails cascaded down the ram's legs. He looked ready to fall on his ass from the exhausting rush of pleasure. Everyone expected things to be over, that this living nightmare was about to end, but there was one last thing to see; The bear.

Despite the other two already having expired, the bear was still hanging on by a thread of life. In fact, as Mark stared closer, he could see that the bear's face seemed more of pleasure than of pain. His cock was even rock hard - no - harder than that! The thick bear meat was the only thing that bounced on his body. It twitched more and more as time went on, as the reserves of air left his body. He was going to do it, Mark thought - he hoped. The bear was going to come before he died.

And, to just about everyone's amazement, he did. Although the lion and tiger had started to grow a little erect, they had expired long before the chance at a release. The bear however had his final goodbye. His cock splattered the wooden frame with a massive load of seed. The warm white goo sprayed out like a jet of water that had been pent up for too long. Another load came, almost as big, but this one just trickled down the bear's shaft. Every movement in the ursine ceased, except for the slight swaying his body did. The room was silent, and all could hear the creaking of the wood as the three bodies swayed back and forth.

Mark reached down and felt that the crotch of his pants was wet and sticky.

---

After the rather eye-opening display in the auditorium, Mark and the other new students were lead through portions of the school to get acclimated with the layout. They were treated to a dinner private from the rest of the student body. A couple of rumors about where, or more precisely who, the meat came from circled around the group during dinner. Most people barely ate much. Later, the new students were taken to the freshman dorms and assigned a room and a roommate to spend the year with.

Mark was assigned with a rather spunky young cat named Lance Arnold. The two hit it off rather well, despite the possible death looming over them. Lance was, strangely enough, rather upbeat about the whole thing. He did not seem to mind the fact that they just watched three young men hang by their necks, and although he did not like their situation, he saw no reason to fret over something that they had no control over.

"That was a crazy display, though," Lance said, lying flat on his bed. He and Mark had been talking about the execution ever since they got to their room. "Can you believe," he said with a laugh, "that Coach Ram guy?"

Mark felt a knot in his chest. "What do you mean?"

"What do I mean?" Lance sat up. "The guy fucking came! He splattered his pants with jizz at the sight of those boys dying. I've seen a lot, but that's just freaky. Who does that? Guy must have some sort of snuff fetish, or something."

"Yeah," Mark replied, trying to keep his voice from shaking. "Really weird." He recalled his own ejaculation at the execution and curled himself up slightly under his blanket. He wanted to say something about it to Lance, but held back. "I bet anyone who would cum after watching someone die is a... a freak."

"You said it."

They heard the dorm leader calling for lights out, and neither boy hesitated in getting their lamps turned off. Despite his ordeal, Mark found it strangely easy to fall asleep. In his dreams, he dreamt of a stage. On that stage was a gallows, much like the one from earlier. The bear from before was there too, tied up and ready to hang like he had before. Mark was there too, but not in the audience. No. He was on stage - on the gallows. He wore a tight sleeveless shirt and a pair of tight fitting shorts. He laughed at the bear, gave him a kiss, and pulled the lever, sending the bear to his death.

Mark awoke, sweating, his underwear covered in cum.

---

School at Redrum was much like school anywhere else. Classes were structured much like high school. The students went from one class to the next, with a small break between every other class. The subjects were what one would expect at a school: math, history, science, grammar, and so on. The classes seemed well structured, and the teachers, despite the constant threat of death that each one reminded the students about, appeared dedicated to their work as instructors. Mark found most of them to be better instructors than any other teacher he had before. The days passed by without much incident, until a very strange day of gym class...

"Alright students, today is a special day of the month," Coach Ram announced as the boys huddled in the locker room before class. The students all tensed up, not sure whether they should be excited or afraid. Coach Ram held up a gym bag, reached in, and pulled out a jockstrap. "You will find one of these in each of your lockers instead of your normal gym clothes. Put it on and get your asses out onto the gym floor." He scurried out of the room, a big grin on his face.

Mark and the others looked around the room in confusion. Indeed, the only scrap of clothing in their lockers was a jockstrap. Many of the boys were hesitant about putting the thing on, Mark included. With some reluctance, he and the others made their way to the gymnasium, wearing nothing but assless jockstraps. The sight of Coach Ram's beaming face made them all shrink in embarrassment.

Everyone participated in roll call, as usual, until one head came up short. "Grant Rose... Grant Rose. Grant Rose! Does anyone know where Grant is?"

"I'm here, Coach." Grant came out of the locker room. To Mark's surprise, the young lizard was still wearing his clothes, not the jockstrap.

"You are out of uniform, young man," Coach Ram sounded furious. "Get back in there and get your jockstrap on this instant!"

"No!" Grant shouted, throwing his hand out dramatically. "This is stupid."

Mark saw the fury in the Coach's eyes. They looked like they could burn a hole into Grant and the wall behind him. "Get your ass in there and put your jockstrap on. Now." Mark could hear the menace in every word.

Despite this, Grant stood defiant. "I refuse."

Mark expected Coach Ram to explode right there. Instead, he seemed to calm down. "Alright, Mr. Rose, if that is how you feel about it. Please, come with me to my office and we will discuss your punishment." He addressed the rest of them. "The rest of you start jogging laps around the gym. I will return shortly, and heaven help you if I see any of you slacking off." He then lead Grant back into the locker room, and to the ram's office.

The class did as they were told and started jogging. They jogged in silence, the only sounds were their feet hitting the floor. About ten minutes later, Coach Ram returned, without Grant, and called for them to stop.

"I am sorry that Mr. Rose had to disrupt our special day today. However, we will continue on as planned. While I set things up I want each of you to start your stretching." While the students did their stretches, Coach Ram set up various step mats around the gym. He called them together again. "Today I am going to give you all a special workout to help strengthen your lower regions. Each of you take a mat and follow my instructions."

Mark and the others took their positions next to a mat. Coach Ram turned on some music. It was upbeat, and it made Mark want to shake his booty. Coach Ram set up his own mat and instructed them to follow his lead. He took a step onto the mat with his right leg, kicked his leg forward and punched with the opposite arm, and took a step off. He spun around and did the same thing but with the opposite appendages. After that he bent down, planting both hands on the mat. He stuck his ass high in the air and then bent his knees a couple of times. His ass seemed to bounce perfectly as it came back up. The muscles tensed and loosened at just the right moments. It was a thing of beauty.

Mark quickly looked away. His fear about wearing the jockstrap starting to grow more apparent. Coach Ram instructed them to do exactly as he did, in what he liked to call "Tae Booty." Everyone groaned at the name, but did the exercise regardless. After a few minutes of doing the routine with them, Coach Ram let them do the exercise on their own. He took that time to wander. Wander and admire the throng of asses.

"Very nice, Justin. Excellent form, Fank. Good job, Blake. Nice ass Perry. Oh, very nice ass Tristan." This went on for every single student. "Not a bad form, Mark." The canine was surprised when Coach Ram stopped and complimented him. "Lift your legs a bit more, and try to bend your knees more." Mark did as he was told. "That's it. Mmm, very nice. With a little work, we'll make your booty into a money maker." He gave Mark's rump a firm slap when he bent over. Mark yelped and nearly fell off the step mat. "Looking good, Mr. Rummer," the coach chuckled.

The session of 'Tae Booty' lasted the entire class time. By the end of class, most of the students could barely move without reflexively doing the movements for the exercise. Before sending them to the showers, Coach Ram requested one of them to stay behind and clean up the exercise mats for him. Mark was volunteered, and he did not object, imagining what kind of punishment he might receive if he disobeyed the coach. Picking up the mats took a little longer than expected, but only because Mark tried to avoid touching the really sweaty parts. When he had them all collected and put away, he made a quick stop at the coach's office to let him know the job was done. When Mark got there, he noticed the door was open a crack, and that there was a strange muffled noise coming from inside.

His curiosity got the better of him. "Hello? Coach Ram, is that you?" Mark slowly pushed open the door, peeking his head inside. He gasped. "Grant?" Indeed, Grant was in the coach's office. He stood upon a chair, his toes teetering on the edge of it. His hands were bound behind his back, and his neck was strung to the ceiling by a short noose.

Grant made a muffled cry for help from the gag in his muzzle. Mark started to back away, but he bumped into something tall, furry, and full of muscles when he tried to take a step back.

"Hello Mr. Rummer," came the coach's amused voice. "Mind stepping into my office for a moment?"

Mark did not turn around. "I really should get cleaned up and get to my other class..."

"No need. I will send him a note to excuse you." He encouraged Mark into the office, not really shoving the young canine, but not giving him the choice to go anywhere else. Mark quickly found himself in the office and the door closed and locked behind him. Coach Ram took a seat at his desk, leaving Mark standing awkwardly at the door. "So Mr. Rummer, what precisely did you break into my office to do?" he said while looking through some papers.

"Nothing!" Mark shouted, his voice cracking. "I mean - I wasn't breaking in. I just was going to tell you I was done... That's all."

The ram looked back at him, leering with judging eyes. "I see. And what if I choose not to believe you? Perhaps I should teach you the same lesson Mr. Rose here is about to learn."

Mark stared wide-eyed at the poor lizard. He felt at his neck, imagining a rope tied tightly around it, cutting off his access to life-giving air. "Please Sir, I swear I wasn't doing anything wrong!" Mark started feeling desperate. "I'll do anything, just don't hang me! Anything at all!"

Coach Ram turned his chair around and faced the sweating canine. He gave Mark a silent, piercing stare. After what seemed like an eternity, the bighorn finally spoke up. "Remove Mr. Rose's chair."

"C-Come again?"

"Remove... Mr. Rose's... chair."

Mark looked at Grant, the lizard's eyes as wide as plates. "You want me to... kill him?"

"It's either you or him, Mr. Rummer." Coach Ram leaned back, a sly smile on his face and an ever growing bulge in his shorts. "Only one of you gets to leave this room alive. Now make your choice."

Mark hesitantly walked up to Grant. The lizard peered down with pleading eyes, his head shaking, tears streaming down his cheeks. Mark placed a hand on the back of the chair. He nudged it, but the thing barely moved at all. He nudged it again, making an infinitesimal amount of progress.

"Sometime today, Mr. Rummer," growled Coach Ram.

Mark removed his hand and took a step back. He closed his eyes. His heart beat like a drum, pounding a rhythm he had never felt before. His body burned like a furnace, and he wished he a glass of water for his dry throat. His head felt light, but his loins felt heavy. He had to do this. It was him or Grant. That's all this was, survival. Nothing more. Nothing more. Nothing...

He did it so suddenly that he was startled when the chair rattled against the floor. Mark let forth a swift kick, knocking the chair out from under Grant's feet. The lizard dropped only an inch, but an inch too far to remain alive. With nothing to support his weight, he hung in the air by his neck, the weight of gravity now sapping away his life.

Mark, shocked at what he had done, stood paralyzed. He watched up close as the lizard's life slowly began to fade away. He could see every detail, hear every sound. Grant's body shuddered and flailed, his body slowly starting to fight for survival. The look of pain on his face was just like the other three that had hanged on stage. Like them, Grant too was beginning to grow hard. Mark felt the heat rise. He reached down and caressed the aching tent in his jockstrap. Grant's body shivered harder, presumably getting closer to death. It made Mark shudder, and his paws rubbed the soreness of his crotch even faster.

After several minutes, Grant Rose was no more. The lizard's body went limp, the light in his eyes consumed by darkness. Mark had not finished rubbing his crotch, yet something told him to stop. He let go, and slowly backed away. "I think... I think I should go," he said, though just barely audible for Coach Ram to hear.

Mark turned and tried to unlock the door. "You aren't going anywhere yet, sweetie." Mark spun around and stared at the sight of his coach's dick. The thing was massive, nine, maybe ten inches long, probably over an inch thick. It popped out from atop the ram's waistband. He pulled his shorts down underneath his balls, letting the massive orbs hang loose. Mark opened his mouth, drooling at the sight of the massive brown dick and egg-sized orbs. "Sit down on Mr. Percy's lap, little one. You look like you could use some 'comforting' after your ordeal."

Yes, Mark thought, he did need some comforting. After all, he just watched one of his fellow students die. He needed someone big and strong to comfort him. Almost hypnotized, Mark moved over to his coach and climbed onto the big ram's lap. Coach Ram's massive rod pressed at his crack, teasing the young canine to take the plunge. The tip was already wet with more pre than Mark every thought a person could produce in a short amount of time.

"Now then Mr. Rummer, I do believe you deserve a reward for being such a good boy for Big Daddy Percy. Just ease yourself down, and I'll do the rest." Mark nodded and carefully let his ass lower onto the throbbing ram dick. The thick head of his coach's dick pressed firmly against his eager hole. The wetness of it was staggering; all this pre-cum from one man, and before any fucking! Despite the size, it pushed Mark open with only a little effort. The canine let out a whimper and tried to pull off, but could not. Coach Ram had a tight grip on his shoulders.

"I said I'll do the rest, Mr. Rummer," Coach Ram hummed sexually. "Don't fight me, or you'll end up getting hurt." He put some weight down on Mark's shoulders forcing the young dog down, despite the buildup of pain from entry. The massive cock dug deeper, slowly shoving away flesh and muscle as it snaked deeper into Mark's ass. Coach Ram did not ease up until the thing was more than half way in. "There. Now take a breath, little one. This is going to hurt at first."

Mark took a deep breath, but, lost it when Coach Ram drove in deeper. The big ram used his hips to plow a few more inches in. He bucked his hips up, then brought them down and shoved in hard. Mark leaned back and howled, not bothering to be silent. A blast of pain shot through him, and a tear streamed down his cheek. Coach Ram fucked him without mercy, bouncing on his chair like his butt was as spring. Mark clamped his hands onto his coach's shoulders, squeezing the beefy muscle as hard as he could. The pain, however, soon faded into something else. The thick, beefy cock hurt like hell at first, but slowly, as each thrust rubbed his tender prostate more and more, he began to feel pleasure.

It was intense. Never before had Mark taken so much manhood at once. Never before had he ever had a man thrusting into him with such a fire and passion. Both of them began to moan, though Mark's moans were louder. "Oh, Coach Ram," the young canine cried as a wave of ecstasy rushed through him.

"Call me Percy," the bighorn moaned. "Daddy Percy."

"D-Daddy... Percy."

A smile grew over the ram's face. "That's right. Say it, little one. And I'll take you even harder."

"Daddy Percy," Mark cried, no longer holding back. "Take me, Daddy. Take me hard!"

Coach Ram grabbed Mark by his arms, stood up from the chair, turned and practically dropped the young canine onto his desk, and all while continuing to fuck him. He spread Mark's legs and lifted the boy's ass a little off the desk. After getting some leverage, the pink-furred ram let into Mark with a heat of passion that could melt rock. He thrust into Mark's tender ass with a speed and force that made Mark's cock harder than ever before.

Mark gasped for air at the intensity of their passion. He closed his eyes and let the heat blanket him. He could not touch his aching shaft, his arms glued to the desk to keep from falling off. Yet he had no need. He could feel the pressure grow stronger at each passing second. He could feel his loins grow hotter, more eager for release. He felt his own pre-cum dripping down the sides of his shaft. How he longed to just get one touch, to aid in his release.

"Oh fuck, Mark," Coach Ram gasped. "You're a good fuck. A really good fuck."

"Oh Daddy Percy," Mark gasped, blushing.

"Can't... hold back much... longer. Be ready."

Mark was. He could hardly take much more of his rapturous pleasure. He might die from it all, might die from the power of his coach's fucking. It was a silly thought, but one that filled Mark with a strange little desire. And it was that desire which sent him over the edge. In a howl, he let loose his seed a few seconds before Coach Ram let loose his. Both men moaned from the euphoria, their jizz finally getting spent. The hot lather that filled Mark's ass was oddly comforting, if a little awkward. The warmth was soothing, and made the small feelings of pain that he still felt a little less noticeable.

Coach Ram took a moment to catch his breath before pulling out. He helped Mark off the desk, then sat down and started looking over some papers. "Thank you, Mr. Rummer," he said with a bright smile, "that was a very nice distraction." He shooed the young canine away with a flick of his hand. "I have some papers to file, so please hit the showers and get to your next class. I'll send an email to your teacher in a minute."

Mark stood there for a minute. His legs felt like jelly. Coach Ram continued to read through some papers and type on his computer's keyboard. "Uh, Sir... What does-"

"Are you still there?" Coach Ram looked back, the smile had faded and a look of annoyance was in his eyes. "I told you to leave. If you insist on staying, I can always hang another noose from the ceiling..."

"Yes Sir! Yes Coach Ram Daddy Percy... Sir!" Mark was out the door in seconds. Coach Ram chuckled, a twisted smile on his lips.

---

A few days had gone by since Mark and Coach Ram had had their little romp in the bighorn's office. Mark spent the time thinking of how surreal the whole experience was, especially the weird look the bighorn gave him as he was leaving the office. Despite this, everything seemed to move along rather smoothingly.

"Would Mark Rummer please report to the vice-principal's office," said a voice over the classroom's loudspeaker. Everyone in the room, including the teacher, stared shockingly at Mark. The young canine looked around the room, unsure of what to do.

"Well go on," said Mr. Estomago, his biology teacher. Mark collected his belongings. Before he walked out the door, Mr. Estomago added, "It was nice knowing you, amigo."

The trip to Mr. Job's office was a foreboding one. Most of the students were in class, so the hallways were practically empty. The sound of his muffled footsteps seemed to echo against the silence. Mark held onto his books like a teddy bear, cringing at the dark thoughts that crept into his head. Along the way he was stopped by a hall monitor. When Mark told him his name and where he was going, the monitor just lowered his head and said a prayer for him. It did not lift Mark's mood.

When Mark finally found his way to the vice-principal's office, he had to wait outside for several minutes before he was let in. Once called in, he was immediately shocked by what he saw. Mr. Job sat at his desk, his expression dark and studious, hands clasped together on his desk. "Come, Mr. Rummer," he said. "We've been expecting you."

The 'we' that Mr. Job was referring to was himself and a student sitting in a chair in front of the desk. Sitting was not the accurate word, more like he was bound to the chair with rope. It was Lance! Mark stared awkwardly, completely flabbergasted.

"What's going on?" Mark asked. "What's Lance doing here?" His feline roomie looked at him with sorrowful eyes. He looked beaten, with various bruises all over his body. He whined through the gag in his mouth. Was he trying to warn Mark?

"Your roommate was caught trying to escape from the school about a half hour ago." Mr. Job's lips pursed the faintest of smiles. "He has been interrogated thoroughly and has accused you as an accomplice to his escape."

Mark's eyes went wide. "I'm innocent!" he proclaimed, his voice nearly shouting. "I would have been... on my way to class when this happened."

"Exactly. Which is why you have no one reliable to back-up your alibi." Mr. Job stood and very calmly meandered around the two students. "The penalty for trying to run away from Redrum is death." He placed a firm grip on Lance's shoulder. "One I will personally see to." He turned to Mark. "To be an accomplice in an escape attempt is not a death sentence, but the torture you are about to endure might make you wish you were joining him."

Mark stiffened as the bobcat circled around him. "I did not do anything," he whispered with lips quivering. He could smell Mr. Job's scent. It was powerful, like a cologne that both repulsed and intoxicated simultaneously. He wanted to turn away, but was drawn by the power of the musk.

"If you wish to be absolved of your crime," Mr. Job whispered harshly, "then you will meet us in half an hour in room 2BHD, up on the second floor. Failure to be on time will result in you losing your head, along with your roommate. Understood?"

Mark nodded his head. "Understood, Sir."

"Good. Now get out of my site until then." He opened the door and saw Mark out. Before the door closed behind him, Mark looked back and saw the most devilish smirk on Mr. Job's face. It reminded him of Coach Ram... for some reason.

Twenty-nine minutes later (Mark timed himself carefully), the young canine stood in front on the door to room 2BHD. He knocked twice before going in. The room was brightly lit, though Mark wished it was not. Scattered around the room were various instruments of what Mark assumed to be devices to chop off people's heads. Some of them looked practical, like a couple of recognizable guillotines, though some of them looked very strange and probably as dangerous to the user as it was for the victim. Mr. Job and Lance were near the back of the room.

"Ah, Mr. Rummer, right on time," said Mr. Job as he spotted the young canine. Mr. Job had changed his clothes since they last met. He wore no shirt, a pair of dark pants, and a black leather executioner's hood that covered the top part of his face. "Good to know you are man enough to face your punishment head on."

Mark faked a giggle at the pun, but turned his attention to Lance. The feline was down on all fours, his legs and arms bound to the floor by thick straps. His neck laid out on a wooden chopping block, his chin resting in a groove. He looked up at Mark, but was unable to speak due to the gag still present in his mouth. Mark glared at him, no longer feeling any mercy for what was to become of his former roomie.

"Let's get started, shall we," chimed Mr. Job. He went over to the nearest wall and pulled down an axe from a display. He glanced it over, examining the sharpness of the wedge. With a nod, he returned to the two. "Okay Mr. Rummer," he said while setting the axe on its head and leaning slightly on it, "strip down." Mark hesitated at first, but complied without saying a word. "Yes, very nice. Very nice," muttered Mr. Job. Once Mark had finished stripping, Mr. Job pulled down the zipper to his pants. His cock and balls popped free, and Mark raised an interested brow at the sight of them. "Suck me," the bobcat demanded.

Mark fell to his knees almost instantly. His body was getting warm again, much like it did before with Coach Ram. Mr. Job grabbed his shaft and helped aim it into Mark's open maw. The young canine slowly closed his mouth over the tip of his vice-principal's cock. It felt relaxing to feel the warm meat on his tongue. Mark suckled on the tip for a minute, letting the rest of Mr. Job's dick grow more erect. Though not quite as big as Coach Ram, Mr. Job's size was nothing to laugh at. Mark eagerly took in a few more inches of the thick cat-hood, despite the little nag in his head about the oddity of his situation.

"Come now, Mr. Rummer," Mr. Job sighed, "you can do better than that. Mr. Arnold over there sucked far more eagerly in his vain attempt to escape punishment. You however, have a much better chance, if you work hard at it."

Mark glanced quickly over at Lance, then closed his eyes and laid into his work. He shoved as much of that cock into his maw as he could, taking his vice-principal up to his balls. Mark's nose played in the scruff of Mr. Job's pubic area, and he caught a powerful whiff of the bobcat's musk. It was even more intoxicating than before. With his mouth almost drooling, Mark shoved Mr. Job's shaft in and out of his mouth. He pursed his lips hard, forcing every nerve to tighten as hard as it could.

"Ah!" Mr. Job suddenly gasped. "That's much better." He placed his free hand on Mark's head, and scratched the canine behind the ears. "Ooo yes, Mr. Rummer. Keep doing that."

While continuing to keep the cat with the axe happy, Mark meandered one of his paws down to his crotch. He grabbed the sensitive shaft, already wet some with pre. Mr. Job seemed to make no objection, so Mark began to beat off while he enjoyed the wonderful taste of manhood in his mouth. With his eyes closed, Mark lost himself to the heat of the moment. He forgot all about the axe beside him, and the fact that Lance was strapped to a chopping block only a few feet away. He forgot about the looming punishment that he had to face, and focused only on the sweet nectar of pre-cum cascading down his gullet.

It was bliss.

But the fantasy soon ended when Mark felt a quivering in his maw and heard the moans of Mr. Job. A torrent of cum splashed into his mouth and onto his tongue. The taste of the thick seed was potent, and Mark would have backed off if not for Mr. Job holding him in place. Without looking up he could tell that Mr. Job was staring down at him with eyes that commanded, "Drink it, bitch." Fighting off the initial bad taste, Mark gulped down the jizz, straining with each swallow. He fought it all down, sucking down all he could to make Mr. Job happy. When the bobcat finally let go, Mark pulled away for a gasp of air, a thin line of the feline's seed trailing from his lips.

"Not bad, Mr. Rummer," Mr. Job said with a sigh. He gave Mark a pat on the head. "I'll give it a B+. Pretty damn good, but could use some improvement."

"So... I pass?"

"Yes, you pass that portion of your punishment. Now you have one last test to pass, and you will live to see tomorrow."

Mark stood up, licking the cum from his lips as he did. "What exactly is my punishment, Sir? You said it would be torture, and that was hardly torture."

Mr. Job smirked. "Don't get so cocky. There are more ways to torture someone than by physical punishment." He hefted the axe over his shoulder and turned Mark to face Lance. "Your torture is to help me behead your roommate."

Mark looked back with wide eyes. "You want me to what?"

"You heard me. You are going to aid me in his execution. A simple chop, Mr. Rummer, and you don't end up in his position as well. If you would rather die alongside him, then move out of the way and await your turn."

Mark looked down at the cat before him. Lance looked pitiful, beaten and strapped to the floor. His eyes begged Mark for mercy. Mark wondered why he lied about him being an accomplice. Why? Did he think he could frame Mark instead? Did he just not want to die alone? Regardless of the reason, they were here now. It was, like in Coach Ram's office, a situation of kill or be killed.

"Give me the axe," Mark exclaimed as he held out his hand. He waited to feel the cool wooden handle slide into his grip, but instead felt a warm body push up against his back.

"A very wise decision, Mr. Rummer." Mr. Job leaned into Mark and wrapped his arms around the young canine. He held the axe out before Mark, leaving a gap between his hands for Mark to take hold.

Mark slowly placed his paws on the handle. Mr. Job's warm body felt good, and Mark suddenly realized how cold the room felt. He pushed into his vice-principal, getting as close to the warmth as he could. Mr. Job did not resist or push him away. He tightened his hold around Mark, almost in a fatherly way. In this macabre setting, with axe in hand and blood about to be spilled, Mark felt uncannily at home.

The axe rose. Mark played no part in aiming or controlling the axe. he just kept a tight grip, and let Mr. Job do all the work. "Can you feel it?" Mr. Job whispered into Mark's ear. "Can you feel the rush of excitement, knowing you are about to help me behead your roommate?" He rubbed his crotch against Mark's lower back, the still wet and sticky liquids soaking into Mark's fur. "I know you want to do it. You want to end his pathetic life, just as he tried to do to you."

Yes, Mark thought.

"You know he's been lying. He wanted to get you killed alongside him. What shame. What scum. Scum deserves to die, right?"

Yes, Mark thought.

"So why let him live any longer?" Mr. Job's grinding grew fiercer. "Why not be the deliverer of justice? End his life. Execute him. Behead the traitor."

"Yes!" Mark shouted. His eyes burned with rage at what Lance had tried to do to him. Burned with hatred at the cat for betraying his trust. Lance deserved death for what he had done. Death!

The axe came down swiftly and deftly. Mark let loose all his anger in a single, brilliant chop. The room echoed with the thunk of the wedge splitting into wood and the wet sounds of flesh being torn apart. Lance's head fell to the floor in an instant. It barely bounced after it fell and rolled around so Mark could see into the cat's fading eyes. He saw the permanent look of shock stuck on the feline's face, the puddle of blood accentuating the realism of the moment.

Mark studied the bloody scene for a moment. His heart was racing, his body felt on fire, and his cock was covered in cum. He quickly realized that Mr. Job's hands were not on the handle, but at the canine's hips.

"You did a good job, Mr. Rummer," the big bobcat said while nibbling Mark's ear. "I am surprised you aimed that axe so accurately. Very professional." His hand reached over for Mark's dick. He stroked the extremely sensitive flesh, causing Mark to jerk and let go of the axe. "It seems you enjoyed that far more than I anticipated. Very nice." He brought the sticky hand up to his muzzle and licked the sweet young nectar from his fingers. "Very nice, indeed."

Mark trembled to find words. "M-Mr. Job... W-What happens... now?"

Mr. Job increased his grip on Mark. "Now, Mr. Rummer, we get cleaned up. After that, you can go back to your room and enjoy having some privacy for a change. I will tell your teachers to send you make-up assignments for what you missed." Mark looked up into his vice-principal's eyes. "I like you, Mr. Rummer. I like you a lot."

Mark nearly fainted at the devilish smile upon the bobcat's face.

---

The next couple of days went by rather surreally. After Mark returned from his trip to the vice-principal's office without dying, rumors quickly spread about what went on. Student after student began questioning him about what had happened. Most people already knew Lance was dead, and just about everyone Mark knew - and many he had never met before - wanted to know what had happened. Unsure of what to say, Mark lied that he had been called down to witness Lance's execution, and that was it. Although he did eventually leak that he had sucked Mr. Job off, that news was hardly a surprise to anyone. Within a couple of days Mark was a small celebrity within the freshman class. Some even began spreading the rumor that he was Mr. Job's new 'pet.'

It was rather nice being admired, and in some cases a little feared, but Mark's days of fame quickly turned on him one unfortunate weekend.

It was Saturday, a day in which every student, even those at Redrum, look forward to. Although most teachers gave out some form of weekend work, it was little compared to what they usually got during the week. Saturday was a time of rest for some, play for others, or extra studying for those who kept their snouts in the books.

Mark decided to take this particular Saturday to roam the halls. Since coming to Redrum, he had not taken the time to really explore all the places he was allowed to go, what with being too busy with classes, homework, and helping his teachers execute two students. He wandered the hallways and student-permissible rooms, not paying any particular attention to where he was going. In time, he found himself in a hallway where sophomore classes were held.

"Hey you!' came a voice from behind him. Mark turned and saw a pack of three students whom he assumed to be sophomores, come out of one of the rooms. There was a tiger, a fox, and a deer. The tiger spoke up. "What the hell are you doing here? You aren't in our class... Hey, I know you."

Mark blinked in surprise. "You do?"

The tiger and his gang moved in closer. "Yeah, you're that fucker Job's new pet."

Mark's spine began to tingle, and he instinctively backed away from the group. "I... I'm not his pet."

"You sucked him off didn't you?" asked the fox.

"And he didn't kill you," said the deer.

"So you must be his little pet," proclaimed the tiger.

Mark glanced over his shoulder, hoping some teacher would come down the hall about now. "Even if I was - and I'm not - but even if I was, so what?"

"That jack-off killed one of our pack," said the tiger. He cracked his knuckles and extended his claws. "Anyone who wants to lick that fucker's cock deserves to get his ass kicked and his throat ripped out."

"But you'll be executed too!"

The tiger grinned. "Not if they don't find the body."

Mark took off. He hurtled down the hallway, his legs carrying him as fast as they very well could. The pack of sophomores were right behind him. Mark could feel them practically nipping at his heels. Fear carried him. He had no idea what to do or where to go; all he knew was that he had to run.

They chased him down the hallway and around the corner into another one. Mark gained a slight lead by quickly turning down another small hallway, but found that it lead to a dead end. To his luck, however, he noticed a classroom door that was slightly ajar. Not wasting a moment, Mark ducked inside the room and closed the door behind him.

He sat on the floor, knees to his face and hands over his mouth. He listened as the pack of sophomores passed the door.

"Where the fuck did he go?"

"Maybe he went down another hall?"

"We need to catch him before he snitches to someone."

Mark waited until the sounds of their footsteps faded away. He waited another minute for good measure before standing up. Once his heart stopped beating against his chest like a drum, he was able to calm down and think. He then noticed someone else in the room with him. A figure stood near the back of the room, apparently unaware of Mark's presence. He was shorter than Mark, and from what he could tell looked like a lion, though with no mane, but had markings of a hyena as well. From where he was standing, Mark could see that the lion-hyena was cleaning something. Something red. Something blood red, off of the wall.

"Um, excuse me," Mark said. The figure did not turn around. "Excuse me," he said, a little louder. "Excuse me!" he finally shouted.

The figure finally turned around, and was shocked to see Mark standing by the door. He reached up and tugged a pair of earphones out of his ears. "Pardon me, I didn't realize you had come in," the figure said rather politely. "Is there something I can do for you?" Mark told him about his run in with the tiger and his gang, but also could not help but ask about the blood. "This? Oh, I'm just cleaning up a little from an execution the headmaster had to give to a teacher earlier today."

Mark nearly hit the floor in shock. "The teacher's can die?"

The lion-hyena laughed. "Yes, they aren't immortal, you know."

"I didn't mean... I just can't believe that the teachers get executed too."

"When they get out of line they do. Ah, but where are my manners, my name is Zerky. You are?"

"I'm Mark." Mark stepped in closer. "So are you a janitor? I don't think I've ever seen you before."

"No, I'm not a janitor. Though I do keep this place clean, in a way." Before Mark could inquire further, Zerky continued. "I think that you should probably get going. It would not be wise to let a teacher find you here, and I'm sure those thugs chasing you are long gone by now." He shushed Mark's attempts to speak up, insisting that he leave. "Go on, I'm sure you'll be fine. Just hurry back to the freshman dorms and I'll take care of your little bully problem for you."

Before Mark could argue, he was shoved with rather unexpected strength out the door. "Well that was weird," Mark thought aloud. He turned and looked down the hallway. There was no sign of any life, nor any sound. Carefully he treaded down the hall, trying to keep calm and be ready in case he was spotted. He turned the corner, and-

"Gotcha!" Mark let out a yelp as the tiger and his gang grabbed him. They shoved him against the wall, pinning him. One of them threw a punch to Mark's abdomen, knocking the wind right out of the canine. "Thought you could get away from us, huh?"

"For a second there... yeah, I kinda did," Mark wheezed.

While the fox and deer held Mark against the wall, the tiger readied his claws. He brought them up to Mark's throat, and pranced them around as if to tease the young canine. Mark closed his eyes, ready to feel the rush of pain as his throat was torn asunder.

"Hey! Stop right there!" came a familiar voice from down the hall.

The three boys turned. The tiger growled back, "Who the hell are y-y-y..." His voice petered away and his grip grew lax when he saw who it was. "H-Headmaster DeVore." The three let go of Mark and started to back away. "What are you doing here? I mean, what can I do for you, Sir?"

"Cut the crap, Jerald, I already caught you bullying Mark."

Mark stared at the hybrid with a tilted head. "Head...master?"

Zerky glanced over at Mark. "Stand up straight, Mr. Rummer. You look like you're stoned." Mark shook himself back to normal. Was this the same person he met just a few minutes ago? His attitude and voice were harsher, and he seemed to give off this aura of power. Headmaster Zerky DeVore took a step toward them, and Jerald and his gang took a step back. "You boys know that I have a very strict bullying policy here at Redrum. And from what I could see, you three were going for blood. Tsk tsk tsk." Zerky suddenly launched at them. He gained the distance of the hallway in seconds, moving faster than Mark or the other boys would have thought possible. With swift precision Zerky knocked out the fox with a few punches to the belly and jaw. He quickly turned to the deer, slamming him against the wall with a side-kick. Last was Jerald. Though the tiger tried to run, Zerky literally pounced on him from behind, knocking him to the floor with his feet. With a quick strike to the neck, Jerald was out before he could scream for help.

Mark stared at the scene with his jaw agape. One little man took down three sophomore students in barely a minute. Mark shook his head, unable to grasp the speed in which he had just been saved.

"I know what you're thinking," said the Headmaster, smiling proudly. "I really took too long to take them out."

"That's not what I was thinking at all!" Mark suddenly found himself shouting. "How the hell did you... How are you the... What the... Why..."

"I think 'thank you' are the words your are looking for," said Zerky with a smirk.

Mark took a brief moment to compose himself. "Yes... Thank you for saving me."

Zerky came over and gave him a pat on the shoulder. "Not a problem, young man. As the headmaster to his school, it is my duty to make sure that each and every student is taken care of in the way they deserve." He looked down at Jerald and his pack. "And these three are going to need my very special attention. Oh yes." Mark watched with curiosity as the hybrid licked his lips.

"That's very nice of you, Sir."

"Oh, call me Zerky. No need to be so formal, Mark." He wrapped an arm around Mark's waist. "I like to think of myself as a voice for the students. I want to know what they know, see what they see, feel..." he reached down and groped Mark's package, "what they feel."

Mark felt embarrassed at the sudden intimacy. "That's very kind of you Mr... Zerky, but I really should be getting back to my dorm. Got some papers to finish up before Monday, you know..."

Zerky let go of Mark and watched him with a smile as the young canine slowly and awkwardly backed down the hallway. "Of course, your studies come first. Oh! Before you leave, I do have one thing to ask you."

"Yes?"

"Would you be so kind as to visit the kitchen later this evening. Say, around eight o' clock?"

"I guess so... I thought students weren't allowed in the kitchen except for special circumstances."

"What could be more special than enjoying a snack with the Headmaster?" Zerky said with a toothy grin. "Don't be late, and be sure not to eat too much at dinner. Ta-ta." He waved Mark goodbye as the canine turned the corner and headed back to the freshman dorms.

Later that evening, Mark's thoughts wandered as he made his way to the kitchen. He found it strange that he had never met nor seen the Headmaster of the school up until now. He also found it strange that he had found the Headmaster cleaning up on the classrooms, despite there being janitors to do that for him. As Mark entered the kitchen, he could not help but wonder if his meeting with Headmaster Zerky would be just as strange and kinky as his encounters with Coach Ram and Mr. Job had been.

As if an answer to his question, Zerky was already in the kitchen waiting for him, stark naked, with Jerald bound and gagged on one of the kitchen counters. Mark analyzed the situation and immediately shed his clothes.

"What are you doing?" asked Zerky.

"I know where this is going," Mark said with a sigh. "I'm going to have to be fucked by you and then kill him, or vice-versa. It's happened to me twice already."

Zerky looked at him with surprise. "Really? I had no idea," he said with a beam. "I wasn't going to ask you to take your clothes off, by the way."

"Really? Oh... Okay." Mark started to get dressed.

"No, no! Don't... put them back on." The lion-hyena hybrid gazed longingly at Mark's exposed form. "I like you better without them," he said in a rough, sexual tone, licking his lips a second later.

Mark gulped nervously. He could not tell what Zerky was thinking. He seemed to be acting sensually, and yet Mark could tell there was a predatory hint in his words. As he walked up to Zerky and Jerald, the young canine could not help but think he might not be leaving the kitchen alive.

"You remember Jerald," Zerky said as he motioned to the tied up tiger on the counter.

"Uh huh,' replied Mark, giving Jerald the evil eye. He noticed that Jerald's legs were spread and a strange contraption was hooked up to the tiger's cock and balls with wires. It looked like a type of electro-stimulation device Mark had seen people use on sex sites.

"I have invited you both here so that we could work out this horrible bullying problem between you both. Now Mark, I know that Jerald and his friends were trying to hurt you, but after a much needed chat, I have discovered something shocking. Do you want to know what that is?"

Mark raised a brow. "What?"

"That all Jerald really wants is a friend." The hybrid gave the toothiest grin ever.

Mark scoffed. "Oh really? So when he threatened to kick my ass and rip out my throat..."

"It was just a cry for help." Zerky picked up a small device from the counter and handed it to Mark. It was a small remote with a dial centered around a series of numbers from 1 to 10. After the number ten was the letter F. "As you probably have guessed, Jerald is hooked up to an electro-stimulation device. I figured, as a potential friend, you could initiate your newfound relationship by getting him to come in a very pleasurable way. Doesn't that sound like fun?"

Mark glared at Jerald with narrow eyes. The big cat looked down at him with a tearful expression. "I'd rather see his cock fry than watch him get off."

Zerky's grin grew devilish. "Oh? Well I wouldn't want to burn a bridge between you two, but... you might beshocked to realize that this device does more than just stimulate."

Mark eyed Zerky curiously. His lips curled into a devilish smile. "Is that what the F setting is for?"

"Maybe," said Zerky, coyly. "But I, as your Headmaster, would never tell you outright that you should slowly build up the stimulation until he's about to blow and then fry his dick like a hotdog on a hot grill. That would be weird."

Mark nodded softly. "Yeah, weird." He turned toward Jerald, and, holding up the remote so the tiger could see, turned up the dial to number two. The effects were obvious. Jerald jerked almost instantly. The small electric current stimulated the nerves in his groin. The tiger's shaft began to quiver, and grew more erect with every few seconds. Mark flipped the dial to three, and jerald's dick nearly jumped to full mast.

"Aww, how sweet," said Zerky, staring longingly at Jerald's dick. "I think you two are getting off to a great start." He licked some drool off of his lips. "A great start indeed."

Mark glanced down at Zerky's lower half. The hybrid's penis was already hard and dripping. Mark found it strange that, compared to his coach and vice-principal, his headmaster was nowhere near the same length and girth. Though despite his shaft not being more than average, Zerky's balls were pretty hefty for a feline his height. Mark started to wonder...

"Turn it up," Zerky said. "Turn it up a little more." It sounded like a plea, but also like a command. Mark happily turned the dial up to six, and Zerky nibbled at his lower lip in anticipation.

"Uh Sir - I mean, Zerky." The Headmaster acknowledged him, but did not take his eyes off of Jerald's quivering cock. "Can I ask what this is all about?" Zerky's ears perked, and he reluctantly tore himself from the show. "The thing is, I have this suspicion that something weird is going on. First with Coach Ram, then with Mr. Job, and now with you."

"I don't see what's so weird about the faculty taking time to cater to your needs."

"Yeah but... You guys have all let me kill people. The sex has been odd, but nothing I'd complain about in a normal school, really. It's just the killing." He turned the dial up to seven and paused to enjoy Jerald jerk about from the unrelenting stimulation. "I'm not an idiot, Sir. I know that you three want something from me. It's clear as day."

Zerky said nothing at first. Then, he started to smile, not devilishly or childishly, but warmly, almost proudly. "Very good, Mr. Rummer, I knew there was something about you I liked." He crossed his arms and leaned against the counter. "I can't tell you everything just yet. Let's just say that this is your final test."

"My... test? Test for what?"

"Ah, ah! Spoilers," Zerky said while putting a finger to his lips. "First you have to decide the fate of Jerald here. You've already caught the hint of what will happen if you turn that knob all the way, so now I leave it to you to decide if he gets to leave here with just a stimulating ejaculation, or..." He picked up a knife from the counter and licked the side of it. "What's it going to be? What decision do you think I really want you to make?"

Mark looked down at the remote in his hand. He looked up at Jerald, and then to Zerky. He stared back at the remote. "I think it's obvious," he said lightly. "You want him to fry!" With gusto, Mark turned the dial all the way up. In a few seconds, Jerald's quivering grew to violent jerking. His eyes grew wide and he shouted furiously through his gag. The electricity flowed through his cock and balls freely, having no resistance but the cells and nerves of the tiger's flesh. As the jolts of energy shot through them, Jerald's cells grew hot from friction. As the friction built up, the flesh began to cook.

Jerald's dick grew red in mere minutes. Mark and Zerky watched, both transfixed on the transformation. The skin began to singe slightly around Jerald's balls. Mark imagined the liquid inside, boiling from the heat, cooking the tiger's nuts in his own seminal juices. It made his mouth water. Eventually, the stimulation was too great, and Jerald uncontrollably came all over his shaft. The white nectar started to sizzle on the red hot tiger rod, popping as it trickled down the shaft, basting it in a salty liquid. Jerald's agony did not go unnoticed, and Mark found he enjoyed watching the tiger squirm, his body jolting wildly in pain and the instinct to flee.

He felt strangely powerful at that moment.

Several minutes went by as the two watched Jerald come a couple more times while his groin cooked. The smell of the sizzling meat was extraordinary, far more aromatic than the finest of perfumes or colognes. He turned the device off after Zerky told him to do so, and the young canine waited in anticipation as his headmaster carefully removed the device from Jerald's crotch. The tiger's cock was smoking, puffs of steam billowing out from the tip. With precision and care, Zerky placed a plate underneath the tiger's package, took the knife from before, and slowly cut into the cooked flesh. Jerald did not even jerk as the blade severed his cock and balls from his body. No doubt the nerves were burned to a crisp by now.

Zerky brought the steaming flesh to his nose and moaned from the smell. He let Mark take a sniff, and the canine could not help but do the same. Both of them stood there, staring at the steaming pile of what was once a tiger's cock and balls, drool cascading down their mouths.

"As Headmaster, I get first dibs."

"No arguement from me, Sir."

"Good boy, and don't call me Sir." Zerky set the plate down on the counter. After retrieving a fork, he casually pierced the tip of the cock meat and sliced it like he would a piece of steak. Mark watched intently as Zerky brought the cock-impaled fork to his lips, opened his maw, and chomped down on the dripping flesh. He let out a loud "Mmmm" as he chewed, his eyes sparkling and face lit up. He quickly speared another piece, sliced it off, and had it in his mouth mere moments after he gulped the first piece down.

Mark watched in horror as two more pieces of Jerald's delicious looking meat disappeared down his headmaster's throat. "Hey, what about me?"

Zerky paused and looked at Mark as if they had just met. "Oh. I forgot about you." Mark rolled his eyes and sighed. Zerky chuckled and apologized. He held up another piece of the steamy shaft; a thick slice from the middle. "Open wide, and get ready for a taste sensation beyond your imagination."

Mark opened his mouth and let Zerky feed him the slice of cock meat. He was right, it was a taste sensation beyond his imagination. Mark's eyes went wide with excitement as the flavors just melted in his mouth. The meat was a little spongy, but nothing his fangs could not handle. The flesh was cooked pretty rare, but that just made it taste all the better. The semen, cooked outside and inside, added some zest to the taste. It was a shame when he had to gulp it down, but Zerky was ready with another slice. They traded off slices, each telling the other what they thought of the delicacy between bites.

Eventually they got down to Jerald's balls, Zerky took the first one, cutting the sack in two before impaling one of the orbs with his fork. He popped it into his maw and Mark could hear the flesh pop as he bit into it. Zerky handed the plate and fork over to Mark, who hungrily slurped the remaining nut in his mouth without a second thought. The flesh burst as he bit into it, and the taste washed over him like a wave hitting the beach. He nearly fainted from the juiciness, the magnificence, the unadulterated essence that was Jerald's meat.

"I can't believe I've never tried a man's balls before. Well... cooked, that is." Mark gulped the mashed up orb down his gullet. "I feel like I've been missing so much in my life."

Zerky smiled and placed a paw on Mark's shoulder. "This is only the beginning. I have big plans for you, but first you have to do me one huge favor."

"Anything," Mark said enthusiastically.

Zerky spun around and bent over the counter, spreading his legs and lifting his tail. "You have to fuck me, right here, right now."

Mark nearly fell over when he saw his headmaster spread his ass. "You want me to fuck you? I mean, you don't want to fuck me?"

"Mark, did I stutter? Do you want to bury your bone in me or not. If not, then kindly leave so I can look for someone else to share my plans with."

Mark shook his head. "No! No, I want to fuck you. I just... never imagined-"

"Shut your mouth and get to work!" Zerky demanded.

Mark said nothing more and hurried to get behind his aggressively bottom headmaster. After adjusting some to their height difference, Mark readied his shaft, which was surprisingly more wet than he thought it would be. Zerky's pucker seemed ready for him. He could feel the hybrid's heat, smell his musky aroma, and it drove him wild. He eased himself in, worried that causing any pain might result in him losing his dick just like Jerald. Zerky let out a gasp, but nothing to indicate any pain. Mark kept going, amazed at how tight the headmaster's ass felt.

With a little effort, Mark managed to slide his entire length in. He waited a moment, letting Zerky adjust and get used to the feeling. He then eased back, letting his cock slide ever so close to popping out, and then pushed it back in.

"Ah," Zerky let out a slight moan. His back arched slightly, and his body shivered. Mark continued thrusting, going a little harder after every few bumps. "Not bad, Mark," Zerky huffed.

Mark felt a twinge of pride. He had not topped much, and to hear his headmaster give him praise made the young canine feel more like a man. With a sense of pride swelling in his loins, Mark took the initiative and began to fuck Zerky with some more gusto. He leaned forward, pushing his hips harder into the lion-hyena's body. To his delight, Zerky's moaning grew louder. He was surprised how tight the hybrid's ass was. For someone who had probably had a hundred students fuck him, Zerky was as tight as a newly fucked virgin.

"Oh Mark," Zerky moaned, "go faster. Faster." Mark gripped Zerky's hips and thrust harder, pushing his weight into every fuck. "Oh yes! That's it, fuck me! Fuck me hard!" Zerky began to bounce back against Mark, and the sounds of their bodies slapping echoed around the kitchen.

Mark took a harder grip on the Headmaster and began pounding into him like he was his bitch. In his head, Mark imagined Zerky begging for more, begging to be come into.

"Oh fuck yes! More Mark, more! Ah, fuck that's good!" The hybrid's breathing grew faster. "Come on, fuck me Mark. Beat my ass like it's a drum. Pound me like I'm your bitch!"

Mark felt a rush of ecstasy and excitement. He grappled Zerky and let loose, owning the older feline like he was the student, and Mark was the headmaster. They bounced against each other like sizzling oil on a hot pan. Their bodies melded together, and Mark felt the rush of pleasure build up just before the base of his cock. He howled a howl of triumph as his load shot forth, spilling into Zerky's ass like a torrent. The rush felt good, and the slow fade of the flame into a glowing ember was soothing. Mark practically fell on top of Zerky, his body spent.

"Get off me," Zerky huffed. "I have things to do."

"Huh? Oh, s-sorry." Mark stood back up and stepped back. His cock was dripping with cum, as was Zerky's ass. He waited while Zerky got some towels for them to clean off with. After getting clean, Mark waited patiently for Zerky to say something.

"That was nice," Zerky said. "You can go now. I will contact you tomorrow."

"Wait, what about him?" Mark said, pointing to Jerald. The tiger was still alive, but looked dazed and in pain. "Don't you want me to kill him?"

"Why would I want you to kill him? Did I ask for you to kill him? No? Then I don't want you to kill him."

"Okay, okay!" Mark threw his hands up in defense. "I'm sorry."

Zerky grinned mischievously. "Don't worry about him. By dinner time tomorrow, you can expect there to be tiger steaks on the serving line. Now gather your things and get out of my sight. I'm a tad hungry and you're dripping cock is starting to look rather delicious..."

It took no more than a lick of Zerky's lips to send Mark hurrying out of the kitchen, nearly forgetting to put on his clothes.

---

When Sunday came around, Mark waited eagerly for Zerky to contact or summon him. He waited patiently through a breakfast of venison, a lunch of fox chops, and a delightful dinner of tiger steaks. As it was nearing lights out, Mark worried that perhaps Zerky had forgotten about him. By the time lights out was called, Mark went to bed with a crestfallen heart.

He was awoken suddenly by a pair of hands grabbing him in the middle of the night. He tried to fight, but quickly realized that it was Coach Ram. The bighorn sheep shushed him before he could speak, and lead him out of the dorms and through the school. They stopped at one of the teachers' lounges. When he went in, Mark found Mr. Job and Headmaster Zerky waiting for him, sitting comfortably.

"Welcome, Mr. Rummer," said Mr. Job as he motioned for Mark to stand before them. Coach Ram sat down with the other two as Mark took his place before them. "You are probably wondering why we have gathered you here tonight."

Mark crossed his arms. "I am curious why you had to drag me out of my bed, yes?"

"Oh, he's feisty when he's tired," squealed Coach Ram. "I told you he'd be perfect for the position."

"Yes Percival, we know. We've all gathered our thoughts on the subject, and that's why we are here." The bobcat leaned forward and put his hands together. "You, Mark, have been recommended by Mr. Ram for an advanced position at Redrum."

"Advanced position?"

Mr. Job nodded. "Yes. You might have noticed in your short time here that there are very few senior level students. The reason for that is that most students never live beyond their junior year. The Redrum Transitional School for Young Men is actually a front for something more."

"What?" asked Mark. He started leaning in, curious and excited.

"The goal of Redrum is to find exceptional individuals and train them to become assassins and mercenaries." Mark's jaw nearly hit the floor upon this revelation. Mr. Job continued. "Those students that can survive the harshest of environments - this place - are to be trained and taught in the art of killing. We three are the founders of Redrum, and it is our privilege to offer you a chance to nearly secure yourself a spot on the senior roster."

Mark felt his heart in his throat. "Are you telling me that, if I go along with this, I will get to kill people for a living?"

Zerky spoke. "Does the thought excite you?"

Mark took a moment to think it over. He remembered the excitement he felt when he saw those first few students executed on stage, the rush of pleasure watching Grant hang, the glorious power he felt beheading Lance, and the enjoyment he had eating Jerald's cock. With a smile, Mark said, "I love the idea."

All three men smiled. "Then," Zerky said, standing, "by the power vested in me, I hereby accept you into the ranks of the Advanced Student Society. ASS for short." Zerky snapped his fingers, and Coach Ram reached behind his seat and pulled out something that made Mark want to cream his shorts. It was Lance's head, mounted to a wooden base, with a plaque underneath that had his name. Coach Ram handed the mounted feline's head to Mark. "This is our gift to you," said Zerky. You may hang it up in your new room tomorrow. Let it remind you each and every day of your ultimate goal to strive to become the greatest killer this school has ever produced."

Mark was nearly in tears. "I will. I really, really will."

"Perfect," said Zerky. He motioned for the other two to stand with him. "And now, Mark, you have your first task as part of ASS." He, Coach Ram, and Mr. Job all began to strip.

Mark blinked confusedly. "What's that?"

"Simply, sweetie," said Coach Ram with a wink. "You have to survive a threeway with us."

Mark nearly dropped Lance's head at the sight of all three of his mentors in the nude. His shorts tented almost immediately, and the only words he managed to say were, "It's going to be a long, long night."

THE END