Radigan B. Waters, 18, slid out of his older sister's (formerly his mother's) car with quite some effort. The air was clear and crisp, and although the sky was clear, it was as though there was a weight in his stomach and he were just puppeting himself along. The school's Vore Science people were making an announcement today, and he was almost certain what they'd be saying or showing at the exhibition. He didn't even want to be at that presentation - ever vigilant against being eaten - but they had threatened those who did not attend with expulsion, and *of course* they could not afford to move someplace else; not for another year or two, anyhow.
 
Vigilance on Radigan's part was popularly considered unwarranted. Numerous scientific studies had showed that females, especially females that were considered attractive and fit, were disproportionately the prey in any conceivable Vore scenarios, but some gay or male-targeting predators did exist, and he wasn't about to let his guard down.
 
He grunted some noises of appreciation and mustered the energy to say 'I love you' to his elder sibling before turning to the school building itself. It proved an exceedingly challenging task just to walk to the doors without listening to his primary instinct to run right away. He knew full-well the sort of place this school was. It wasn't *like* fighting a mortal fear; it *WAS* fighting a mortal fear, and every step felt weighty and his spine tingled and his vision felt sharpened and his eyes darted. The key words Vore Science had struck dread into his heart and if he *weren't* walking to his death, which he very well could this afternoon, it sure as Hell felt that way.
 
The teenage male picked up the pace as he realized how much time he was taking, and entering the building was a blur of running fiercely in the hallways, heart pounding as though it were trying to break free of his ribcage. He always kept to the center; the sides were where people-eating plants generally sat and dying a stupidly avoidable death was not on the docket for today.
 
The state of his physical shape was absolutely miserable, and he knew it. So was the state of his appearance. He didn't look bad in terms of bone structure or weight, just quite unkempt, with wild, dark facial hair that wouldn't give up and somewhat blemished skin. His stamina gave out the fastest, but he didn't mind: this campus was small, and there was the conference room they had slated for the presentation! Bursting in with relief, he greeted Miss Kay by sigh. The tall woman nodded happily at him and marked off something on her clipboard. Huh, she was far less tight than usual, no need to sign, no pressure to talk, he wondered why --!
 
Up there on the stage, there were a few Vore Science members - one walking a little oddly - walking around what looked like all appearances to be a circular phone booth thing. There were also some unfamiliar folks around, probably the people who invented this thing and wanted to show it off. Good. It didn't look dangerous, though what it might contain was a different story. He plopped himself into a seat next to Allen, his lazy game buddy who loved Counterstrike almost as much as life itself, saying 'Yo.' without a response, and some gangly kid who carried a walking cane like he was an old man. All around, of course, seemed to only be people who had gotten designated as C, D, or F-class meat during the physical exams. Fat, weedy, unattractive, or just obviously frail and sickly. A strong sense of dread pooled in the rear of his mind, but before it fully took shape the presenters had already gotten in position and, as if on cue began to speak.
 
"And there's the last one! Okay, hello, students of Big Cedar Adolescent Academy! I'm Dalilah Ingram, the big guys to my left and right are Vinsson and Gerald Salter, say hi!" A chorus of ragged and decidedly un-audiogenic voices rose in response, and the students' delivery was as deadpan as though they had been brainwashed. "Hi Dalila. Hi Vinson. Hi Gerald." It was hard to fault them; many of the crowd today suffered from a long list of physical and mental disabilities. Recently, it was as though the entire school had been turned over to special-needs. Rad pointedly did not join in, and he felt pretty alone in doing that.
 
"Hello! So, we'll cut straight to the chase: the Vore Science program over here has been very successful! We've gathered a lot of good data and seen a lot of great feedings over here, but I think you've all noticed a little problem." The gorgeous lady paused, looking uncomfortable for just a second. Here it came. The reason why Rad' had thought vore was just a passing fad at first, and why a lot of people in public, on the media, and on the Internet were talking about 'food shortages.'
 
"In a way, I think it's been *too* successful. With the devouring of Scherza Williams, damn hottie by the way, a couple of weeks ago by the Gigafloranth, the vore creatures at this great school have run fresh out of acceptable food. They're starving, and... not to insult any of you, you are all wonderful and valuable people, but in case any of you didn't know they won't go out of their way to pursue D-grade meat and below. It's just too much energy for too few nutrients, and don't like C-grade for much the same reason." Another ragged chorus, quieter. "Mm hm." Most people rated at C or below took their homeliness or disabilities as a blessing in this new age, where anyone who looked remotely attractive was at serious risk of death by vore.
 
The thing was, even with efforts to increase the birth rate through 'breed or feed' drives... it was projected, and Radigan had already long surmised, that the rate of sexy good-meat people would plummet much, much faster than the birth and raising of new ones could make up for. Thus, soon, no more hot people and no more predators. The vorish would eat the fittest until the poor-grade meat, the ones least suited to survive, would be all that remained... and then go extinct or just evolve to feed on them. The latter option was why Rad' was feeling bleak these days. Human extinction seemed close and yet the vore activists seemed so self-assured.
 
His heart sank. It was coming. The dress-clad woman's face lightened up and Radigan couldn't help but see a hint of malice in her expression. Wait, was she looking at him? Was she speaking to a faculty member? Staff shifted in the rear. "So we at Verde Industries would like to introduce this revolutionary appliance: the incredible *MEAT IMPROVEMENT STATION!*" Limited applause. Rad could see the reality drawn on the faces of a few fellow students, but Allen seemed aloof as usual. Why hadn't more people seen this coming? He'd read the first reports of new science and technology that could manipulate th--
 
"This three-meter beauty can manipulate one's, yes, you all got that right! The morphogenetic fields! And a lot more, but I won't bore you with the details. Suffice it to say that with just a couple megawatts of juice, this thing can boost a person's meat grade by as much as four letters! I'm not kidding you, folks. And that's not all it will shift." That dark expression again. A wink. Wait, she was staring straight into his eyes. Oh no, no--!
 
"I'd like to introduce you personally to the full range of transformation this glorious device can create by test-driving it out on a couple of you." She snapped her fingers theatrically, and just as he noticed the large, well-built TAs surrounding him and Allen- "Radigan Blackstripe Walker and Allen Strafordy! Come on up here!" Cued, they beckoned the nerdy pair up and had them walking toward the stage. Oh god. Oh shit. Is this how it ended? Was this what his life would come down to? Gulps, just as he'd always feared?
 
It would come to pass that no, not immediately, in any case. Instead of just shoving them in the baby blue-colored monstrosity, they were instead made to stand just to its right with all the presenters. The speaker continued her spiel, subtly drawing a card, Radigan saw. "We picked out these two about a month ago when we were getting ready to deploy, and boy are they just perfect! Radigan over here is C-grade, and he isn't bad at all! Just on the cusp of being good food, but there's just a few bits to add here!" He had to summon all his will just to resist the urge to start running, but luckily as Vinson and Gerald, the two muscle-men grabbed a hold of his body and not-gently motioned him toward what looked like the access door to the Meat Improvement Station, his better judgment took hold.
 
"He'll be a good poster-boy for our new effort," she spoke as the door opened and he was tossed in. One of the technician-looking people was getting ready to punch in some instructions at a console off to the side, but he didn't get another look as he was practically forced at musclepoint to stand in the middle of the strange contraption. The young man did not dare to lift a finger as the machine hummed with power, and there were all sorts of lights inside, as well as the fact he was standing on what looked like a cheese grater's business end. They whirred and came to action, and the light and shaking became almost painful as it came to a crescendo...
 
He opened his eyes a few seconds later to see the same pair drag him back out shakily. He'd passed out. Had everything gone to plan? His clothing felt like it was falling to rags... There wasn't any damn time to think, everything was moving so fast- "Or rather... poster-GIRL!" Shocked, terrified gasps and nervous laughter burst out among the crowd.
 
It occurred to him to look down and--my God, were those breasts?! He did feel a lot better than usual, but as he turned his face upward, hair fell in front of his eyes! Almost daring not to do so, he lifted a leg and--
 
--so too, without any noticeable fuss at all, his manhood had vanished! In place, **she** saw... nothing. Panic set in as she realized she'd been made totally naked in front of the rest of the student body, and as frantically as she squirmed her thighs no penis became apparent to the senses, just smooth pelvic flesh. What the hell *was* this?!
 
Delila continued, "Just like that! Where we had poor, barely-acceptable meat ten seconds ago, now stands before us a... give us a minute..." Vinson and Gerald barely gave Ms. Blackstripe any time to react or get oriented, they just dragged her onto an examination-style mat where one examiner stood waiting. Before she could even raise a word in protest, she'd already had a small blood sample taken and the examiner had already gathered a small sample of her vaginal fluid. He hurriedly integrated the sample with a small tablet computer and wiped his finger off on a pad, pausing for a moment to see its readout, then mumbled a number repeatedly to himself as he rushed to pinch every major muscle group and region of Radigan's body. He turned to Delila and said a few words.
 
"GRADE-A SELECT! That's Grade-A select! It's fantastic!" she whooped victoriously to the crowd, who varyingly responded with cheering and clapping. Some looked quite concerned and shewed no reaction, but from this distance it was hard to tell. "Wha-what's that mean?" the newly-minted girl finally had the presence of mind to say, with a voice totally unfamiliar to herself. "It's a subgrade. Not as good as Choice or Prime, but with some extra work you'd be a perfect meal," the examiner mouthed in a breathless trance before wiping off the fluid pad using a rag and removing the blood from the tablet, getting himself ready to examine Allen.
 
The hefty boy had been watching the goings-on with a mix of horror and fascination, and he did not show resistance as Vinson and Gerald moved to force him into the Improvement Station. He was shut in rapidly, without a chance to react. "Now let's see what this miracle machine does with all that extra mass!" the presenter joked. It whirred and came to life once more, and in a daze it seemed no time it all before it cooled down again.
 
Out stepped a dazed, fair-haired, pretty sexy-looking teenage girl, cradling her head in confusion and sporting a pair of perky, large breasts. Her midriff was perfectly hourglass-shaped, and her hips and butt swayed alluringly. Many in the crowd hooted and whistled, but she didn't seem to notice as she was eased onto a soft mat directly to Radigan's left. Delila bent in and the examiner gave Allen the same treatment as Radigan. She raised her fist triumphantly. "GRADE-A PRIME! GRADE-A PRIME!" Cheers and roars. Were the audience really this oblivious, Rad asked himself?
 
"You've just seen the incredible power of our new Meat Improvement Station! Boys and girls, it's truly a miracle of our age. Down to the important stuff, though! Chiefs!"
 
The Headmaster and a few other high-ranking faculty members lined up to deliver what looked to be their piece. The swarthy, big man shouted at the top of his lungs, in an uncharacteristically jovial voice, "Alright, you chuds! Listen up! I know that was crazy to see, but pay some attention! There are a few changes to the rules being rolled out starting tomorrow! Well, really only one, folks! Any and every penalty, action, inaction, or dumb-ass antics from you that would normally have gotten you sent to meat duty? Go in this thing instead, the first time! You get one strike, and it's a hell of a doozy. DO NOT fuck up twice, or we feed you to the giant flower out back like usual! If you would've wound up randomly chosen or volunteered for the prey lists, you get sent here the first time! Second time's for keeps! REMEMBER THAT! Delilah, take it away."
 
The woman gingerly took back the center stage. "Thank you all for coming!" As though it were voluntary to have attended. "This is our solution to the food crisis that's starting to hit the country's schools. We're planning to roll this alternative program out nationwide. If you need any details on the process, check Verde Industries' website. If you need legal advice, name-changing, that sort of stuff, consult the governments' vore portals. If you need *medical* advice, visit a doctor. And a gynaecologist. That's all! Peace!" Applause and cheering, fainter now since it was starting to dawn on many of the C, D, and F-class students remaining that they were no longer safe from predation. The curtain fell and the industry folks got ready to leave. The headmaster seemed to follow them backstage.
 
As soon as they had cleared up and the students began to pack up and get ready for classes or to go home, Radigan and Allen were helped up to their feet by the two that had been manhandling them earlier. They both felt strange and uneasy on their feet. Delilah offered them both a call to their family and their doctors using her phone, which made Rad feel very uneasy again, although she did take the offer.
 
"Who is this?" It was relieving to hear her elder sister's voice once more, over the phone. "'Nessa, please *listen close.* It's me, Rad. The presentation went well, but-"
"Who is this?!" Vanessa Blackstripe replied angrily, confused at who this strange, oddly attractive-sounding girl was trying to pass herself off as the younger Blackstripe sibling.
Tears formed in Radigan's eyes. Words had never come this easily to her before. "Please, Sis, you have to believe me! They showed off this weird machine at school and... and they, they changed my sex! They changed my sex, please understand, I'll explain!" "Who the HELL IS THIS?" she repeated, almost-screaming.
 
Rad recalled a simpler, happier, easier time. Years ago. No vore. No meat lotteries, no prey lists, no activist groups.
 
In her desperation to avoid hanging up, she recounted a tale only she and her elder sister could possibly remember, one replete with personal details that an impostor could never conceivably know. The phone on the other line was silent for half a minute, and Rad was absolutely terrified she hung up. Her sister sounded defeated as she closed the conversation, breathing heavily.
 
"Okay. I'll come get you at half past twelve. Try meeting me at the parking lot. I'll be in the Civic. I love you."
 
Her life was going to be complicated from this minute forward. Avoiding predators was important before, but it would take an all-new level of vigilance to stay out of some creature or plant's digestive cavity. Now that she was an A-grade doe, and the only one of two in the area, and add that the local dragons and snakes hadn't fed in awhile, and although there were not many she was in for some trouble. Every one of them would go after her ass. Literally.
 
Not to mention how this would hit Vanessa. It was a lot to take in. She sat alone as Allen made her calls, trembling in fear, naked and alone on the cold auditorium stage. A few dim-witted or pervy students remained, evidently taking in the view or not knowing any better, being handler-less. She wanted to shoo them off. She just wanted the day to be over.
 
***
 
Meanwhile, backstage, a very satisfied pair spoke to each other.
 
"So I think this program's off to a great start! But what rate of use are you planning on, Miss Delila?"
 
"The current student gender makeup is about eighty percent males. I intend to change that to seventy-five percent female by the end of this school year." The Headmaster was shocked. "Are you sure that machine can, uh, handle it?"
 
"Absolutely sure. We stresstested prototypes on stem cells for a few years, and then a handful of sapient subjects. If you're going to ask about why I'm being so bold, it's obvious. Preds prefer females. We can use the machine more than once on any given person, anyhow, and the kicker? With just another megawatt-hour of consumption, it can improve your current appearance rather than changing your sex."
 
"Hm. I'll certainly have to try that out for myself when I get the chance."
 
"Oh, and if you're worrying about any potential surplus or shortfall, don't. The legislation is going through the state congress right now; they're rolling out the sapient-on-sapient predding. In a short while, the anti-vore people will fold or be digested. Then everyone will start having *lots* of kids, the new looks and the activists will make sure of that."
 
He looked concerned, before returning to a satisfied expression. "I've done my part," the bull said, idly rubbing a finger around his endowment. "Eight. And they all came from right here." In response, the vixen put her hands on her hips. "Five. Damn, I'd better shape up."
 
"Well, neither of us are getting any younger, so we better hurry."
 
"Mmm, what would *you* be proposing?"
 
"Nothing much. Just a... liaison, that's all."
 
"Sounds delicious, but I've got all those kids to tend to and I've got to leave in forty. My boys need their soccer practice."
 
"Fair. I bet I can finish in thirty."
 
"I'll put you up to that," the blonde murred as her hands wandered to within the confines of her dress, reaching down and beginning to undo the panties that she wore beneath.
 
---end---