The Third Wish Part 5 Of 8 free porn video

Any resemblance to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental. Don't read if you are younger than 18 years old or not legally allowed to read adult material and all the usual disclaimers. Text in brackets [like this] is translated from barely decipherable lisp. Chapter 5: The Rescue I was left in the dark. I was shaken. I was scared. Sounds of screaming could be heard from all sorts of directions. My face was still pressed against the wall. I couldn't do anything except kneeling there and worry. Cutting over the sound of screaming, I heard, "POLICE! Nobody move." The noise grew louder as the police broke down doors and took people into custody. Soon things quieted down. Eventually, I heard some conversation from the other side of the wall. Voice 1: "We've cleared the entire building. Maybe he died in the explosion." Voice 2: "Some of those that we've interrogated have suggested that there is a glory hole in here." Voice 1: "I think we've already rescued Sarah though. She couldn't talk, but she nodded vigorously when I got to Sarah on a list of names I read her. Voice 2: "I don't know who, if anyone, is on the other side of the glory hole. I don't even know if there is one. But, we should make sure we've got everyone out." Voice 1: "I think I found something!" My small room had a glimmer of light as a bright light shined in my mouth. Moments later I felt a finger enter my mouth. I wrapped my tongue around the finger to show them I was alive. It rapidly withdrew. As soon as it left my mouth, I mmmphed as loud as my soft voice could. Voice 1: "There is something alive on the other side of this wall!" Voice 2: "If you can hear us, we are coming to get you." Over the next few minutes, there was a lot of activity. A lot of beating on walls before they found the hidden door to my small room. Unbolting my stiff gloves from the wall was easy. Unbuckling my head harness from the wall was also quickly accomplished. Unlocking the padlocks holding my nipples to the wall, the locks keeping my head harness on, and the locks holding the stiff gloves on my hands proved challenging. It turned out that even the small locks were much stronger than police bolt cutters. Three strong men ended up all pushing together on the bolt cutters. There was a loud snap. I wasn't free though. They broke the blade on the cutters. There wasn't a nick on the lock. In my high pitched lisping valley girl way, I described the hulk that usually moved me downstairs. They found him among those they took into custody. No surprise, he was a bouncer at the club the doc was running above his lair. The police gave him a choice. Option 1: Find the key to the locks or Option 2: They would cut out a section of the wall. He could explain to a jury why this poor young lady was still locked to a wall. He saw the logic of how it would be beneficial to him if I were no longer secured to the wall. He showed them the hidden hole in the floor where the key was kept. I was finally freed. The key was fascinating. It was battery powered with replaceable watch- type batteries in the handle. When inserted into the lock, the cryptographic key and the stored data on the lock had to match. It was impossible to pick. The police were able to release me from the wall and hand restraints. They removed the head harness. It felt weird to be free of that for the first time in months. I felt naked and incomplete without something filling my mouth. I was tired and hungry. The police needed to bring me in to make a statement. I had worn my favorite hot pink dress today. Low-cut scooped neckline barely covered my areola. My stretched nipples were visible through the stretchy top. The short heavy chain connecting my two boobs was outlined clearly. I rarely thought about the chain that linked my two areolae together. Usually, my stretched sensitive nipples were the focus of my attention. The tight knee-length skirt was stretched tight around my legs. One officer led the way. I minced after him as quickly as I could in the ultra-high heels and tight skirt. We came out into the club. I had never seen it before. It looked like a fairly typical strip club. A stage extended into the room and ended with a pole in the middle of the room. Tables and chairs were overturned and laying haphazardly. The evidence of chaos caused by the police raid was everywhere. Slowly I followed them to the exit. The police held the door open for me. I looked around. Nothing seemed familiar. I had no idea where I was. Two steps led down from the club to the parking lot. I had never attempted steps before. I walked to the edge of the first step. I tried to feel with my other foot the step-down. I tried to hold on to the handrail with my weak arms. I couldn't reach the next step. I felt a strong hand grab my other arm. An officer helped me down. I thanked him and allowed myself to be led to the car. I sat gingerly on the edge of the seat in the car. I folded myself into the back seat. I scooted backward into the car. My two massive mammaries sat heavily on my legs. The stretched tip of my nipples was even with my knees. Buckling up posed quite a problem. The shoulder belt wanted to separate two enormous boobs. This caused the belt to painfully pull the chain connecting the two. Eventually, I managed to get the shoulder belt behind me and the lap belt portion tight around my large hips. When we arrived, I was helped from the car. I similarly had to be helped up the short curb. I minced up the handicap ramp. The slope of the ramp posed challenging given my already precarious balance. I was led to a small interview room. They put a blanket around my shoulders and gave me a cup of tea. They left me sitting in the room while the processed everyone they brought in. This body had never sat for very long. The stiff corset forced me to sit straight upright. I found it quite uncomfortable to sit. I scooted to the front of the chair. I perched on the edge of the chair. I sat there stiffly upright. I tried the tea. It tasted terrible to my new taste buds. I was hungry for my salty protein drink. My shoulders began to itch. Slowly the itching got worse. I moved the blanket aside to gingerly touch my shoulders. When I moved the blanket off, my shoulders started to feel better. Dropping the blanket to the floor, the itching began to subside. The room was windowless. A simple steel table. A strong steel chair on each side of the table. I was seated in one, the other sat empty and waiting. Finally, someone came to take my statement. She was a police lieutenant, judging from her uniform. She appeared to be right around 30 years old. She started the questions: "Name?" "Whike, Winna Cumdumpth? Ah mween, whike, naww? Ithws whike nawth Winna? Ithws whike thothallwee Winna?" [Like, Linna Cumdump? I mean, like, no? It's like not Linna? It's like totally Linna?], I lisped incoherently. "What?" I tried several times to say my old name. I tried to speak past my lisp. You try talking with enormously inflated lips. Add in two large rings and a stud embedded in your tongue. Now add valley girl uptalking and a soft, high pitched voice. You would have trouble making yourself understood too. I made a pen and paper motions. She eventually understood what I was requesting. She handed me a blank sheet of paper and a pen. I hadn't tried to write before. Turns out the crazy doc's programming was pretty comprehensive. My handwriting turned out to be very neat, but very feminine. I started trying to write my name: "Linna Cumdump" appeared on the paper. I scratched it out. I started again. The handwriting was sickeningly feminine. I couldn't even resist dotting all the 'i's with little hearts. On the other hand, my annoying valley girl speech patterns didn't carry over into writing. Here is what I wrote: "I was kidnapped and brainwashed. Every time I try to write or say my old name, the name my kidnapper gave me comes out instead. I can't give you my old name due to the brainwashing. I was kidnapped on February 3rd of last year. I was heavily modified against my will into the form you see now." She read what I wrote. She got up and stuck her head out of the door and yelled to someone. "Hey, Joe! Bring me the pictures and names of all the kidnapping victims from early last year. Let's see if any of them strikes a chord with this vic!" I couldn't blame them. The list they brought me were all female. I motioned to write again. She handed me the paper and pen. I wrote: "No, I was male." She read what I wrote. Looked at me. Looked back at the paper. Looked at my tiny hands. Looked at my round face. Then she left the room. She came back a few minutes later and without saying a word, placed a sheet with the male kidnapping victims in the area on the table. It was, admittedly, a much shorter list. There I was. Middle of the list. Kidnapped February 3rd. I pointed. She looked at the height and weight. She looked back at me. "No way," she said in disbelief. "No way," she repeated. Something occurred to her. "Are you still male, you know, down there?" she asked motioning with her gaze toward my crotch. "No," I wrote. She nodded once. "I need to examine you and gather evidence for any possible future rape charges. Are you comfortable with me examining you or do you want someone else." I shrugged. I stood, bells tinkling from all over my body. I began to unfasten my narrow belt. As I stood, my full proportions were no longer partially obscured by the table. Her eyes widened as my full proportions came into full view. I set my short but wide belt on the table. The back on my thin dress rose to barely cover the top of my corset. I reached back and worked the thin zipper down to the middle of my round ass. I lifted the dress off my tremendous boobs and let it slide down my smooth legs. Her eyes widened further as my stretched nipples came into view. I don't know why, they were plainly on display through the thin fabric. Maybe she told herself that they weren't real. She gasped out loud when the golden plate covering my crotch came into view. She approached me and gingerly touched the hard plate. She asked, "How does it come off?" I shrugged again. "Ithh, whike dothenth? [It, like doesn't?]" "How do you pee? What happens to your monthly discharge?" I shrugged. I didn't want to try to explain the modifications I had just yet. The same question and answer occurred when she looked at the giant plug in my ass. The rape kit was quickly abandoned. There were no viable holes to swipe. After examining me closely for a few minutes, she helped me put my clothes back on. "Can you answer some questions?" she asked. I figured 'why not ask for it'? I made typing motion with my long flashing talons. I said, "[Can I like totes? Type, like, my answers? Like pretty please?]" "Let me check. I'll be right back." She left the room again. She came back with a simple Chromebook. A plain text document was open on the screen. She set it on the table. I moved it to a comfortable position. She positioned herself over my shoulder. "Can you even type?" the lieutenant asked. My nails flashed and clattered across the keys as she spoke. Her words appeared on the screen nearly as fast as she spoke them. "Impressive!" she exclaimed. "Now, tell me what happened to you since you were kidnapped." It was a bit strange transcribing my own interview. I typed both what she said or asked and my responses. Recording only one side of a conversation seemed incomplete. I briefly laid out in a few pages what had happened to me. The lieutenant mostly just stared in disbelief. I left my involvement in the doctor's work as, "I sometimes assisted the doctor with his scientific research and experimentation." This immediately provoked a series of questions on the nature of the research and my involvement. I replied that it was mostly a bunch of research on the internet. Also assisting in setting up some theoretical physics experiments. In response to more questions, I assured her that none of the experiments I had anything to do with any living creature. Then I typed out a question to her. "What happened tonight? I felt an explosion. What happened?" I twisted my entire body to look at her. My neck still wouldn't turn thanks to that stupid collar. She was pursing her lips and thinking. Finally, she said, "We were acting on some anonymous tips. Someone filed a tip that some kidnapping victims were being held at the strip club. When we raided the place, we found a long steep staircase down. An assault team headed down. At the bottom, they reported a heavy door. They breached the door and entered the room. A moment later, there was a massive explosion. When I got downstairs, the room was a smoking hole. The four members of the assault team were slumped unconscious against the wall by the door. I don't know what happened." "Are they okay?" I typed. "I don't know," she said. "I was hoping you might know what happened." "No, sorry," my words appeared on the screen. "Did you recover any of the technology?" We continued back and forth for a while. Her answers quickly became vague. I could tell she had given all the answers she was going to give. She continued to try to probe me for information. I stuck with my previous statement. I was tied up as they found me. What could I possibly know? The lieutenant took the Chromebook. She left me alone in the room. I tried the handle. Correction, the lieutenant left me LOCKED alone in the room. After quite a while two new female officers opened the door. They told me that they would be holding me for the time being. "[LIke, am I, like, being arrested?]" I asked in my soft lispy voice. Officer A: "What?" "[LIke, am I being, like, arrested,]" I tried again? Officer A: "Sorry, I still can't understand you." Officer B: "I think she asked if she is being arrested." I pointed at Officer B and nodded my head what little the collar would allow. Officer A: "Oh. Really? That's what she said? Okay. No, we are just holding you until we can establish your identity. Do you have any way of establishing your identity?" "[Like, No?]" Officer A: "I didn't think so. Come with me." I minced after Officer A. Officer B followed behind me. As we passed through parts of the station, I could see every male eye snap toward me. I had never been in public since my transformation. It was scary and unnerving. Soon I was sitting alone on a hard bed in a holding cell. Bored, tired, and hungry I lay down and fell asleep. It wasn't long before I woke up. I couldn't see a clock from my cell, but I knew it hadn't been a long time. I sat there bored and waiting. I began to feel more hungry. I never had my daily protein drink. The night dragged on. Finally, someone came to check on me. A male officer was doing the rounds. He stopped and openly ogled me. "Can I get you anything?" he eventually asked. I lisped: "[Like totes, yah? Could I like have some like food?]" He was almost drooling before I spoke. I'm pretty sure he did drool at my tiny sexy voice. It dawned on him that I asked for something, but he didn't know what. "Uh sorry, what?" "[Like, um, food? Like? Could I have, like, some food?]" "What?" This time I think he was listening, but couldn't understand me past my lisp. I mimed picking up something and putting it in my mouth. "Oh, food," he said. "We don't have any real food for you until eight, which is about 4 hours away, but I'll see what I can find." He walked away. He came back a while later with a couple of donuts wrapped in a napkin. How stereotypical. I didn't know if they were just stale, or if my tastes had changed that much. I could barely eat the donuts. The taste was just gross. I don't even know how to explain it. I was hungry. I managed to choke one of them down. Only one of them. The male guard stood there watching me like he was watching a porno. I was expecting him to unzip his pants and start beating off at any moment. The thought of that made me hungrier. It made my mouth water. The realization that I would rather be sucking his dick that eating a donut suddenly hit me. It gave me pause. My emotions surged to the surface again. I managed to hold back the tears. Eventually, he left me alone again. Breakfast was no better. The guard ogled me as I ate. The only part of the breakfast that was moderately palatable was when I doused the one small sausage in salt. I sucked it between my fat lips and was not revolted by the salty flavor. I slowly swallowed the small sausage. Only afterward did I realize I probably should have chewed it. My gag reflex was so suppressed and I was so used to having cylindrical meat like objects in my mouth. I just slid it into my mouth and kept swallowing. Pretty soon it was gone. I'm fairly certain my guard came in his pants from the performance though. The wet spot forming in the front of his pants and his hasty retreat were rather clear signs. Much later, they brought me lunch. I was starving, but I couldn't make myself eat the sandwich they brought. Looking at the male guards pants made my mouth water and my stomach growl. I began to realize I had another problem. I couldn't give myself an enema this morning. The pressure was building in my behind. Sometime in the afternoon, the let me back into an interrogation room. This one had one-way glass on a side. A laptop was thoughtfully sitting on the table for me to type at. I guess nobody wanted to try to understand my lisping. I don't think anyone got anything useful from the ensuing back and forth. Finally, a voice said over speakers somewhere in the room, "Show her." They took the laptop from me. When they returned it, the screen was filled with what appeared to be body cam footage. The screen showed a team in front of a door. I hit play. The team on the screen used a breaching round on the door latch. They burst through the door. The doctor's lab came into view. He was at the far side of the lab fiddling with the fusion reactor. It was beautiful. It looked like a small sun glowing brightly in the lab. It washed out the details of all the rest of the lab with its bright glow. The doctor turned toward the team. He had a tool in his hand we invented to tweak the force fields. In fairness, it did look rather gun like. He managed to get out, "What the f," before a bullet ripping through his head silencing him. He fell against the control panel. My hands flew to my mouth in horror as I watched the beautiful reactor destabilize. It looked like he fell against the field control panel. As my carefully crafted program detected an instability, a secondary field flared into existence around the reactor. A third field flared into existence which tried to enclose the entire lab. This third field flaring into existence knocked the assault team against the wall. The camera body-cam came to rest pointed at the rapidly destabilizing reactor. The explosion was almost contained by the secondary field. The field glowed for a second or two. A shower of sparks from the emitters was quickly subsumed by unconfined plasma. The plasma almost instantly consumed the lab. It hit my final forcefield. The ball of plasma had spread to dozens of times larger, thus was orders of magnitude less intense. It was still enough to vaporize steel, but it had dissipated enough that the final field was able to contain it. It didn't last long. Without the pressure to sustain the reaction, it died quickly. It was fortunate that it died quickly because the capacitors that powered the containment field didn't last long either. Just as the plasma burned itself out, the field collapsed. As the smoke began to clear, I saw a giant spherical chasm where the lab once stood. The plasma had consumed everything inside the spherical field my emitters had created. Nothing remained. All the data. All the research. All the tools. Vaporized. "Care to tell us what we just saw?" one of my interrogators asked. I motioned to type. They switched the laptop back to the text document. "May I please speak to a lawyer?" I wrote. It was almost like another bomb exploded in the room. I realize that some of their own got hurt and they now thought I was somehow to blame. But, I had to protect myself and it was time to do so. Glaring at me, they left the room taking the computer with them. They left me sitting there for hours. Finally, someone came back into the room. They simply looked at me expectantly. I motioned for a pen and paper. They quickly handed me a yellow pad and a pen. "Lawyer please," I wrote. They huffed and left the room again. Much later, a young-looking man came into the room. He acted uncertainly. It was clear he was about as green as they come. "Hi, my name is Matt. I'm a public defender," he said. I motioned for the pen and paper. "Can I please use a laptop to communicate?" I wrote. "Let me check," he said leaving the room. A while later, he returned with a small tablet. Parental control was on keeping it locked in a notepad app. A Bluetooth keyboard was attached. Quickly typing, I outlined that I'm happy to communicate with the police, but I did help the doctor with a bunch of his research. I'm not willing to be prosecuted just because they want a scalp to hang. Grant me full immunity, and I'll tell them everything I know about the lab. "Oh," he said surprised. It didn't seem like he was expecting this outcome. "Let me check with the prosecutor and get back with you." He left the room. He left the tablet on the table. I resisted the urge to play with it. I knew that anything I typed before they granted me immunity could be used against me. If they wanted a witch hunt, I wasn't going to give them anything to work with. After what seemed like a long boring time, the young lawyer came back. He handed me a document. I read it carefully. It seemed like they hadn't gotten me a very careful lawyer. I was smart enough and knew enough to heavily mark-up the document. He reviewed it. He was satisfied with my edits. He seemed somewhat impressed. He left the room again. Another long wait and he came back again. Most of the edits had been incorporated, but a couple of key ones had been left out. I marked up the document again. At the bottom, I wrote, "Incorporate these changes or no deal." It was deep into the night when he finally came back. I guess they decided that my help was more valuable than my scalp. They had included all the changes and hadn't added any poison pills. I signed the document. I placed it under the tablet and typed, "I want a copy of this." After I was sure he had read what I typed, I handed it to him. He came back quickly with a copy of the notarized and signed by both parties document. Trailing after him were three detectives. I took the document, carefully folded it, and buried it down my cleavage. I could see their trousers tent. It made me hungrier. They began to pepper me with questions. "What was the device?" "How did it work?" "What part did you have in it?" The questions kept coming. I typed out my answers as quickly as I could. I got total disbelief when I answered many of the questions. They often responded with "impossible" or "yeah right." When I tried to answer the "how does it work," I answered completely and scientifically. They kept saying "What?" or "Stop talking gibberish." I kept trying to dumb it down, but they kept asking for specifics. I would give them, but they wouldn't understand at all. Finally, I typed, "Look if you want to verify my claims, send the following to this list of scientists and ask their opinion. " I then typed a list of scientists whose papers I used as a starting point. I then typed a ten-page summary on how we developed the theories, tested the theories, and built the reactor. They took the tablet and left. "Anything else I can get you?" my young lawyer asked as most of the police left. I took his legal pad and pen and wrote, "I need to poop." "I think I can arrange that," he said. "I doubt that," I wrote back. "Why?" he asked sincerely. I wrote again: "I have a plug fused to my ass the prevents me. Only a special device can open the plug and let me relieve myself." "What does it look like?" he asked. I turned the page and started sketching. I knew the nozzle well. I remembered it clearly. My fingers may have been small and hindered by long nails, but they proved nimble as well. Soon I had some very good representations of the nozzle. I also indicated that it had been in the shower in the lab. The young lawyer took my drawings and left the room. "You're in luck!" he said as he re-entered the room. "The police found one of these upstairs in the doctor's house. They were wondering what it was and why it was in the shower." It turned out that Tits and Becky. Sorry, Sarah and Rebecca had the same anal plug I did. The doctor so often referred to them by his names for them, it was hard to think of them as their original names. The police had been trying for the last few hours to help them. They were trying to remove the plug. That was impossible. Also given Rebecca's memory issues and Sarah's inability to communicate, they weren't getting very far. It was obvious that the police were reluctant to let us leave the station. I was able to convince my lawyer to convince the police that the basic body functions of those in their custody trumped their preferences about the location of our custody. They loaded Sarah into a large van. Rebecca and I were put in the back seats of separate cars. The entire convoy returned to the doctor's residence and nightclub. We were not allowed to look around. Rebecca and I were escorted straight into the house and marched straight into the bathroom. An officer had to help me up the steps. Several others were working to get Sarah out of the van and through the narrow passages to the bathroom. Rebecca looked confused. I knew I would have to help her. I hooked her up first. She looked very uncomfortable. Shortly after I connected her, I could tell that the flow had started. Her midsection began to swell more and she moaned in obvious discomfort. Her moans turned to almost screams as she continued to swell. The police pushed me out of the way. They tried to disconnect her. It wouldn't disconnect. After a couple of minutes, the pressure released. She almost purred in pleasure as she drained. They stopped trying to disconnect her. I tried to tell them this was normal. The cycle repeated twice more before the nozzle unlatched. It easily slid from Rebecca's plug once it unlatched. As they still hadn't managed to get Sarah down the hall, it was my turn next. I had to undress to access my plug. I asked for some privacy. It took a while, but they finally understood what I was trying to tell them. They couldn't very well deny a female privacy while she goes to the bathroom, so they reluctantly left the room. I carefully undressed and plugged myself in. The pressure was intense. More so that usual since my colon was already full. The relief when I emptied was palatable. Two more cycles and I was feeling normal. Well, my new normal at least. I quickly re-clothed myself and opened the door. They were waiting on the other side with Sarah. They couldn't get Sarah in the door, but they got her back half far enough in the room that the nozzle could reach the target. I hooked her up. It wasn't long before she was breathing heavily in discomfort, then almost collapsing in relief as she was finally emptied. It was late at night by the time we had finally returned to the station. While we were away, a couple of the scientists had responded. They wanted to know who wrote the document. They were able to confirm enough of what I said that the police were convinced that I wasn't just spouting nonsense. Eventually, they left me alone. I was again left in a holding cell. I think because they didn't know what to do with me. They offered me some food, but none of it satisfied the growing craving I had. The next day forensics had found something. In the doctor's upstairs residential quarters, they found some DVDs. According to my lawyer, each of our transformations was time-lapse recorded by the crazy doctor. He narrated key points as well. It was pretty clear evidence that Sarah was who she claimed to be. It supported my 3rd hand claim on who Rebecca was. It also proved that I was who I said I was. They weren't willing to let me watch the other women's transformation, but they did let me watch the DVD featuring me. It was creepy and disturbing to watch it all happen again. Toward the end of the disk, the doctor put before and after side by side. It was crazy to see how much smaller my new body was. If I could somehow shed the shoes and stand flat-footed, I couldn't be over 5'-2." I had lost over a foot in height. The only thing keeping me from noticing the huge height difference was my skyscraper heels. The ballet heels make me at least a foot taller than I would be flat-footed. Looking at the pictures, it was clear why my balance was such an issue. Much of my mass was now in my breasts. Only some of it was offset in my gigantic bubble butt. It seems that he included a rather lengthy post-experiment discussion about what he felt went right and wrong with both Rebecca and Sarah's transformation. With my transformation, he simply said, "It all went well. It finally all worked right. Time for some sleep." Then the recording finished. "I request a copy of this disk," I wrote. They had to have known that I would want a copy. They told me that copy was mine. Then came something that I hadn't thought about or prepared for. "We've contacted your family," one of the officers said. "Your wife will be here in about 2 hours." A wave of embarrassment and shame washed over me. What would they say? What would they think? I knew everything that happened to them was the result of my stupid wish. How could I have done this to them? Because of my wish, my poor wife and children had been left alone for almost two years. How could I face them? I had no answers.