John's second period class went largely the same as the first one. He did his best to ignore the occasional glances snuck by his peers. John couldn't wait for the novelty to wear off. He wanted nothing more than to return to some semblance of normal.
John had to be careful where he placed his hands with his new mouth as it was. Having been in the habit of chewing his pencils, John, on several occasions, had brought his pencil idly up to his mouth, only to poke himself with the cold, sharp eraser holder.
His lack of teeth began to pester him as lunch drew near. Having skipped breakfast, John was absolutely famished. Though he would usually pick something healthier, he could really go for pizza that day.
Heading back to his locker to get his lunchbox, John did his best to ignore the stares of his peers in the hallway. He grabbed his lunch money and headed to the cafeteria. The line for food wasn't any longer than usual. Students walked up, requested one of a handful of items, and took their tray to the till to pay.
John stood impatiently in line, counting down the spots in line until it was his turn to be served. He watched anxiously as students bought up the pizza piece-by-piece. To his relief, there were still a few pieces left by the time he arrived at the front of the line.
John had his order typed and ready to go. I'd like two slices of pizza please..
Before he could press play however, a tray was hoisted up onto the glass display box.
Here's you go. Special dietary accomodation. said the cook, not even bothering to glance up at John.
On the tray was a deep bowl of thick, cloudy liquid, and a turkey baster.
That'll be eight dollars.
John's vulva sat agape. He had hoped for pizza. What the hell was this?
Excuse me, How am I supposed to eat this?
Take it or leave it. Said the cook.
John's stomach growled. He didn't have it in him to go without lunch. Begrudgingly, he took the tray and made his way to the seating area.
All the tables were occupied. John sat at one that didn't seem to have any cliques or friend groups.
As mortified as John was, the next step was self-evident.
Squeezing the bulb of the baster, John dipped the tip into the cloudy liquid and allowed it to suck up a small amount. He lifted the tip to his mouth and positioned it gingerly at the entrance.
Here goes nothing.
John squeezed the bulb of the baster and attempted to swallow his meal. This attempt was an abject failure. Rather than go down his throat, the liquid remained at his entrance. It ran down his chin as his lips returned to their resting position.
He would have to try harder than that. Swallowing his pride. John once again squeezed the bulb, and collected more of the liquid. Bringing the baster once more to his mouth, he used is off hand to pry his lips apart, exposing the pink flesh of his new mouth. He pressed the tip of the turkey baster against his vaginal opening. With a figurative grunt, he forced it inside. Though it hadn't seemed so large, his as-yet unused vulva still struggled to accomodate the clear plastic tube. He pushed further, clenching his eyes to avoid the indignity of perforning such an act in public.
Squeezing the bulb once more, John received the nourishment he had been so craving. The thick liquid clung to his throat as he squeezed with muscles he hadn't even known he had. The feeling of stretching around the turkey baster brought with it a sense of satisfaction.
John worked his way through the rest of the liquid. It tasted salty, with a bitter aftertaste thar told John it must be healthy. Pretty soon his mouth was able to accomodate the baster wiith ease. The combination of spilled food and his own juices allowing it to slide in with little resistance.
John carried his empty tray to the rack feeling satiated, the thick fluid still clinging to his throat as it oozed down his throat. There were still around fifteen minutes left in his lunch break.
