The Third Wish Part 6 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 6: The Return I waited. And waited. The guilt bore down on me more and more. I wanted to cry. I wanted to hide. I wanted to see my family again. I wanted to disappear. So many conflicting emotions washed over me. Mostly I felt guilty for leaving them alone. The time passed slowly. Eventually, a female officer came in. Your wife is here. We've outlined briefly what happened to you. She wants to see you. She will be in shortly. My wife was short, broad-shouldered, and heavy set. I always appreciated her large breasts. Now they were dwarfed by the humongous hooters I now possessed. The door opened and she walked in. She took two steps inside the door. I sat behind a table. My small hands clasped in front of me on the table. She just stood there staring at me. Finally, she spoke, "I can't. I can't even." With that, she turned and ran out. A few minutes later, the female officer came back into the room. "We are talking to her, please wait," she said. I nodded what little my collar would allow. The officer left the room again. The emotions were overwhelming me. I began to cry. A lot of time passed. My tears had stopped but my guilt and regret remained. The door opened. My wife came back into the room. "Hi," I managed softly. "Why?" she asked. "Why you, why? Why did you let this happen? Why are you keeping those terrible clothes on? Why are you wearing make-up like a slut? Why are you dressed like one too? Do you know how terrible the last several months have been for us? Did you care at all? Did you think about us at all? While you were off doing who knows what, I had to hold up everything. Do you know how difficult it has been? Did you even try to escape? I can't even look at you. I didn't marry you. I married a tall man, not an overblown fantasy doll. Your boobs have their own time zone. I can't. I just can't even. What were you thinking? They told me you helped your kidnapper with his experiments. Were you cheating with him? Is that why you didn't escape? Was it because you liked it? Why are you dressed like such a slut? Well, are you going to say something?" She finally paused. She can get on a tear when she is worked up about something. "Hi," I repeated. She launched again. "Is that all you can say now? You sit there with your smug little smile. What the hell?" I had forgotten that my neutral face is a little smile. She continued. "And what is up with that stupid lisp? Open your damn smug mouth you asshole." I opened my mouth a little further and extended my tongue a bit. She stormed over, "Remove those stupid rings and talk properly." She grabbed one of my tongue rings and started pulling. "Ah, ahhh," I cried as she yanked on my solid rings. She poured her furry into trying to yank the metal out of my tongue. She couldn't pull them out or bend them in any way. "What the hell did you do to yourself?" she cried. "I can't deal with you. I just can't." With that, she ran from the room crying loudly. About half an hour later, the officer came back in. "She left," the officer said simply. "Our victim help program can put you in a hotel for the night, but you need to figure out where to go and what to do next." I later found out that my wife filed divorce papers the very next day. I couldn't blame her. The female officer escorted me from the building. "[Can you, like, take me to the, like, doctor's house so that I can, like totally, flush myself out first?] I asked. "Oh, right. Forgot about that," she said. She helped me into the back seat of a cruiser, and soon we were on our way. The trip was uneventful. It felt really good to be flushed out again. A hunger remained and grew though. On the way to the hotel, I thought about what the doctor said about my intelligence. Given how many cocks I sucked on any given night, I should be good for a couple of months before my intelligence started dropping. That is if what he had said was true. I was pretty sure it was because I'm pretty sure it was one of the stupid things I had thought was sexy when I was talking to the genie. The hotel was cheap but looked clean. They also loaned me five twenties. It wouldn't go far, but it would get me through the short term. The bed was comfortable. I fell asleep at midnight. I didn't sleep long, but that wasn't unusual. I was awake at 02:00. The hotel had a "business center." It was a glorified closet with a computer that was old a tired half a decade ago. It ran a web browser though. I spent a good portion of the night waiting for the internet with the slow connection on the antique computer. I was able to research lawyers in the area. I was pretty sure I found who I needed. I memorized their phone number. I knew the password to the trust fund that won the lottery. I decided to see if the account still worked. Knowing my username, password, and security questions, I was able to log into my account. Things were still set up as I left them. The lottery was a 30-year payout of just shy of a billion dollars. It paid monthly at just over two point five million dollars each time. I set up the trust fund to be governed and controlled by an outside board. The fund objective was sustainable growth to ensure inflation- adjusted payout of four hundred thousand dollars a month as measured in 2010 dollars in perpetuity. The money was to be paid to me or whoever I designated. This fund objective should be easily obtainable even in a serious downturn. A payout of almost five million dollars per year should be plenty to live comfortably. Reestablishing my identity so that I could access the money was a problem. Long term though, money wasn't going to be a problem. I made sure I logged out of everything. I cleared all the caches, cookies, and browser history. I went back to my room. Shortly after 08:00, I called the lawyers' office I had selected. It was difficult to be understood with my heavy lisp and the phone connection. I was eventually understood. They said they could meet with me to discuss my situation at 10. I used some of my meager cash for a taxi to take me to their offices. My weak upper body and extreme body made me feel weak and vulnerable in the back of the cab. I had to lock my arms and use my body weight to pull open and close the cab door. I did make it safely to the law offices. I managed to extract myself from the cab. I felt extremely self-conscious about my slutty appearance in the nice part of town. I felt like an intruder into a world I no longer belonged in. The only way I could walk was an exaggerated strut. I screwed up my courage and strutted into the building. My tiny steps made it slow going, but I persisted. I jangled and clacked every step of the way. Bells and rings rang loudly. The dildo shifted in my pussy and pushed against my enormous butt plug. My extreme heels clicking on the hard concrete outside and marble floor inside. I was a walking caricature. An elevator took me to the correct floor. The receptionist tried to conceal her disdain but failed. I grabbed the small pad at the desk and a pen and briefly wrote down why I was here. Still trying to hide her disdain, she placed a call. After a brief discussion with the person on the other end of the line, she escorted me to a large, plush conference room. "Wait here," she said. Ten twenty-seven, the lawyer finally came into the room. I wasn't a priority client. He took one look at me and raised an eyebrow. "Our services are $400 per hour," he started. I handed him my DVD with a note on top that said, "Watch this please." He took the DVD over to a cabinet at the end of the room. He fiddled around with the equipment for a minute. The big screen at the end of the room flared to life. As he came and sat back down, my transformation began to play out on the screen. As it went on, he became more interested. He began to realize I wasn't just some prostitute. The movie took more than an hour. It had his full attention. Finally, it finished. "What do you need from us?" he asked. I handed him another note, "I need you to get me an identity. I have substantial savings and can pay you for your services. To do so, I need to re-establish my identity. I need help to do so." He nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, you do," he said. "First step, what was your old name, and what are you going by now?" I wrote: "I used to be called something else, but after being brainwashed and transformed, I'm blocked from writing my old name and I can't refer to myself as anything other than Linna Cumdump. You can look up my old name from news articles. I was kidnapped on February 3rd." He opened a web browser on the conference room screen. The search results quickly gave him my old name, which I indicated was accurate. "Okay, wait here," he said. He wasn't gone long and came back carrying a long document. It laid out the scope of services the law firm was to perform. It also laid out the expected fee and that payment would be due within 30 days of successfully re-establishing my identity. It was all above board and fair. He brought in another person who was a notary. I signed he signed, it was notarized. I handed him another page. "What do you need from me?" "Let's start with your contact information," he said. I shrugged. I quickly wrote again: "You are looking at everything I have. I don't even have a bag." He nodded, "Okay, I could see how that could be the case. I'll send you out with one of our paralegals, and we'll just add everything to your expense account." He pressed some buttons on the desk phone. A female voice answered. "Megan, come into conference room 604B," he said. Soon, the conference room door opened and a young college-age co-ed came into the room. She stared at me in a mixture of fascination and disdain. He explained the situation: "We are helping Linna here re-establish her identity. She lost everything. Take her shopping and get her a purse or something. Get her a phone too. If she needs some clothes to get by, get her those too. Then take her back to her hotel." "Okay, come on. Let's go," she said impatiently. I could understand her frustration. She didn't go to college to be a shopping assistant. She went to be a lawyer. Now she has to take some slut shopping. I could see how she would think this is beneath her. I tried to stand. It took me a moment to get my balance. "We could get you some sensible shoes too," she said. "[Like sorry, no? They are like totally permanent?]" I lisped. Now she stared openly at me. She couldn't believe my ridiculous voice. "What?" I repeated myself. "What is wrong with you?" she said. The lawyer looked somewhat embarrassed by her behavior. "Be nice, she is a client," he said. I opened my mouth and stuck out my tongue for her to see. "Why don't you put in smaller ones? Then you could talk properly," she said. I reached up and slowly spun the seamless ring. Morbidly fascinated she came closer. Without thinking, she reached up to touch one of them. "What are you doing?" Her boss asked. "[It's like totally okay?]" I said. I stuck out my tongue again, and she reached forward and spun the ring through the hole in my tongue. "How did you get these in?" she asked. "[Like it's like a long story?]" She shook her head, then headed for the door. My hard shoes clicked on the marble floor. The jewelry and bells chimed noisily. I made quite a racket as I strutted after her as fast as I could. She had to keep stopping to wait for me. I just couldn't move very fast with such a reduced stride. We made it to the elevator and down to the parking garage. I was able to fold my long legs and even longer stiff shoes into her tiny Prius. I had to put the shoulder belt behind me again, but soon we were off to a mall. Getting out of her car proved challenging, but eventually, I managed. I followed her as quickly as I could. I could tell she was embarrassed to be seen with me. Frankly, I was embarrassed to be seen with me. We stopped outside one store near the entrance of the mall. "Wait here," she said. She ducked inside and soon returned with a small bag. From the bag, she produced a silken scarf. She helped me wrap it around my neck covering the slutty collar. It didn't help the noise I made as I walked, but it did reduce slightly how slutty I looked. We stopped in front of another store. She had me wait outside again. She ducked in and soon returned with a small, hot-pink purse. The purse was a pretty good match for my dress. I now had something to carry my things. The problem was I didn't have any things to carry. Next, we went to a major brand phone service store. Again, she had me wait outside. Every time we stopped, a crowd of gawkers soon surrounded me. Most didn't even pretend not to stare. The openly gawked. This time I had to wait much longer. I wished I could hide. I was embarrassed by all the attention. Part of me just wanted to drop to my knees and start sucking though. The crowd was getting pretty thick. Eventually, she emerged with a rose gold smartphone. She handed it to me. I put it in my purse. "Can we go now, or do you need something else?" "[Like, we can like go?]" We started walking again. "Oh right, shoes," she said. I walked over to a bench. It took her a few moments to realize I wasn't following her. Exasperated, she came over to where I just sat down. I held a foot up to her. "[Try to like take it off?]" "What?" "[Like, try to take off like my shoe?]" "Fine," she sighed. She tried. She really tried. Quite a crowd had gathered around. A few of the jerks were even filming it. "How does this come off?" she finally asked. "[It like doesn't? Like forever?]" I lisped. "No way," she said. She continued to try. Finally, a big brash young man stepped forward. "Looks like you need a real man to help you," he said. No amount of tugging or twisting from either of them moved the shoes in the slightest. Eventually, he had to admit defeat and give up. He seemed a little embarrassed by his failure. My legs hurt from all the yanking and twisting. With effort, I precariously stood again. We made our way through the crowd to the exit. Before long, we were at the hotel where I was staying. The police were there waiting for me. "We are told you need to visit the crime scene to relieve yourself," one officer told me as I tried to extract myself from the Prius. "[Like totally, thanks?]" I said. I asked Megan if she could take care of making sure my hotel room was paid for another week and thanked her for her help. The police drove me to the doctor's place. I told them that with some tools, I could probably disassemble the nozzle and make some copies so that all three of us could relieve ourselves without coming back. I was told they would think about it. Soon I was back at the hotel. I had to learn how to use a smartphone with long nails. I quickly realized that I would need to use the sides of my fingers. My fingernails prevented any other method. It didn't take too long before my nimble finger had it down. I had internet access again. It was wonderful. I still faced two immediate problems. First, I was painfully hungry. Second, I had an immediate cash flow problem. A part of me didn't want to. A bigger part of me had to. Soon, I found myself taking another cab ride to a nearby dive bar. I left my purse in the hotel. I didn't want to have to keep track of it. Due to my extreme proportions and dress, I was propositioned before I could even get in the door. "[Like what are you like offering, big boy?]" I squeaked. It sounded cheesy to my ears. "I'll give you a hundred bucks to fuck that delicious ass," the short balding man said. "[Like how about like twenty for like a blow?]" I countered. "Deal!" He agreed excitedly. I followed him into the bar. He got a corner booth and indicated that I should climb under the table. "[If you like want me to suck more than like one, you better totes hand down like another twenty for each one?]" I told him. "Yeah, sure babe," he said. I crawled under the table barely squeezing my large boobs into the tiny space. It was hard to crawl in a hobble skirt. My nipples dragged on the rough floor through my thin dress. Finally, in place, I kissed the outside of his jeans. He opened his fly. He worked his surprisingly large stiff dick free from his pants. I tweaked the tip with my long nails. I held my hand palm up near his hard cock. He finally got the idea and a twenty appeared in my hand. I stuffed it in my compressed cleavage and sucked his dick into my greedy mouth. Within seconds my well-trained mouth had his head down my throat. My pierced tongue worked feverishly along the hard shaft. I heard him gasp and felt his cock harden more. Within a minute it began to pulse and shoot the delicious fluid down my hungry throat. The taste was pure heaven. The relief and pleasure of the delicious fluid were like a mini-orgasm. His penis soon began to soften. With another gasp, he pushed my still sucking mouth from his overly-sensitive dick. He called over a friend. He told him he had to give me a try. Soon the second delicious dick hovered before my hungry mouth. My mouth watered, but I resisting. I held up my hand waiting. A short argument ensued about who should be paying me. I didn't care, but I was going to wait until I had a Jackson in hand before they got another mouth on their dick. Soon payment had been arranged. This penis was longer and skinnier. It was quickly engulfed in my wet mouth. It slid down my throat. I used my throat muscles to milk the dick. In seconds he was gripping the table for dear life and gasping wildly. He soon came too. It didn't take long for a line to form. Soon I was warming up one dick with my hand as I was finishing another with my mouth. By the last call, I had sucked a solid 37 dicks. Seven hundred forty bucks were going to help with expenses as well. I got a ride back to the hotel for the bargain price of sucking another cock. He left me at the door very satisfied with the transaction. I made my way through the lobby to some disapproving glares from the hotel staff. My dirty and disheveled appearance gave little doubt to my night's activities. Once I was safely in my room, I removed my dress. I washed it or at least rinsed it off in the hotel sink. I hung it on a hanger and left it to dry overnight. Fortunately, my corset was PVC, not leather, so I could leave it on to shower. I wasn't looking forward to figuring out how to eventually change it. I felt really good as I showered. My hunger temporarily satiated. Riding the high of the night's events. When I laid down, I quickly fell asleep. I woke 2 hours later fully rested and began to plan my day. I began to search for custom corsetiere. Off-the-rack would never work for me. I had nowhere near enough available money for one yet, but it was good to start finding options. I also e-mailed a few seamstresses in the area to see if they had availability to make me some new clothes. I knew off-the-rack clothing wouldn't fit my body either. It was bespoke or nothing for me from now on. Mostly I just caught up on world events and waited. I couldn't do much until I existed as a person again. I knew the legal process to do that would take some time. Over the next few weeks, I visited bars every night. Many wouldn't let me in. Some quickly kicked me out. Some of the seedier ones welcomed me in. Most nights, I returned to the hotel full and well satisfied. My pile of cash slowly built. Shopping in the daytime was rough. My slutty appearance made most people treat me with disdain. Or lust. Or a combination of the two. Cab rides were always uncomfortable. It was hard to get into and out of a cab in my hobble skirt and tall heels. Most rides had several near misses with death. Seems the drivers couldn't keep their eyes on the road. Several of the seamstresses I contacted had availability. I tried one of them. I struggled out of the cab. I strutted to her front door. She opened the door. She took one look at me, said "nope, not going to happen," and shut the door in my face. Discouraged, I tried another. The second more politely declined to help. Third time's the charm though. The third one, Maria, was a pleasant young woman who was fascinated by the challenge my body posed to her tailoring skills. Best of all, she mostly understood me despite my lisping. She suggested trying a few different styles. First, she handed me a short flouncy skirt. She pinned it heavily to make the waist fit my narrow midsection. She helped me remove my tight dress. She stared openly at my piercings and other permanent attachments. "Does that hurt?" She said pointing at my stretched nipples. "[Like constantly?]" I answered. "How do you remove that?" she asked pointing at the plate riveted between my legs. "[I like can't?]" I said. "Ever?" she asked incredulously. "[Like never?]" I confirmed. She examined me even more closely. She occasionally lightly touched some of the details of my highly-modified body. "Wow," she said. She seemed more impressed and fascinated than revolted. It was a pleasant change. She helped me step into the short skirt and drew it up my legs. She fastened it around my waist and stood back to look at the results. The skirt was pleated like a cheerleader's skirt. The length didn't quite cover the faux-lace stocking tops permanently coloring my otherwise pale legs. As she stepped back to examine the fit, a wave of dizziness washed over me. I held onto a table to keep from falling. It got worse. Soon I couldn't stand anymore and collapsed to the floor. "What's wrong?" she asked concerned. "[Like I don't like know?]" I said. She tried to help me into a chair. I was too dizzy to even sit up. She unfastened and pulled off the skirt so that I wouldn't get hurt by the various pins tightening its waist. As soon as she removed the skirt, my dizziness started subsiding. "[Like, I totes think it was like the skirt?]" I said. "Really?" she asked puzzled. "How would it do that?" I shrugged. Once I had recovered, we tried again. Sure enough, as soon as she fastened the skirt, I began to get dizzy again. "[Like that bastard?]" I lisped. "Who did what?" she asked. Slowly through my lisp, I explained about the doctor who kidnapped and modified me. I guessed that he must have added dizziness if I wasn't wearing a hobble skirt. We tried several different styles. Any style that didn't hold my knees together made me dizzy. Short skirts, long skirts, mid-length skirts. All were fine as long as they tightly held my knees together. Similarly, any style that didn't, regardless of length, caused almost immediate dizziness. A similar thing happened with the choices of the top. Long sleeve, short sleeve, no-sleeve. All were fine. If the top covered more than half my slim shoulders then I would break out in hives. If the top covered me higher than an inch above the top of my areola in the front or a similar point in the back, I would again break out in hives. My shoulders had to be mostly bared, and the top had to be low cut. Other than that, any style or type of fabric was fine. My new friend Maria assured me that she understood the parameters I needed. She had all my dimensions. It occurred to me that the dimensions she took would be really useful as I needed to order some additional corsets as well. I asked her for the measurements so that I could order some corsets. To my delight, she said that she could make them for me. She showed me some corsets she had made for herself. They were beautiful and well made. She gave me my measurements anyway. Height standing in shoes: 6'-4" (1.80m) Height if I could stand flat-footed: 5'-2" (1.57m) Band size: 34" (86 cm) Chest just above my stretched nipples: 50" (127 cm) - P cup! Waist around outside of corset: 12.5" (31.8 cm) Pipestem: 4" (10 cm) Top of hip bone: 38" (97 cm) Middle of butt: 46" (117 cm) Torso from the bottom of the breast to the top of the leg sitting: 10" (25 cm) Inseam: 27" (69 cm) Heel height: 14" (35.5 cm) She told me that she would have some items for me to try on in about a week. She did warn me that the corsets would take much longer. I gave her my cell phone number. I assured her I was looking forward to some additional clothing choices. I soon bought a pre-loaded credit card. This allowed me to buy things online. I acquired a laptop. I also opened a mailbox. I now had a mailing address and a credit card. I was almost a functional adult! I had to relearn how to do everything with ultra-long nails. I learned things like buttoning clothes and picking up coins had to be done with the sides of my fingers. Removing a bank card from an ATM proved nearly impossible. I learned to carry tweezers with me to help me remove credit cards from my wallet or pulling my bank card out of ATMs. The police were sick of taking me to the doctor's house every day to be flushed out. They told me they weren't going to do it anymore. The house was legally Rebecca's since her husband died, and they weren't going to take me for access anymore. I quickly texted my lawyer. I apprised him of the situation. It wasn't long before the police had a change of heart. The call from my lawyer helped them change their mind. It seemed that denying a victim the necessary treatment for basic bodily functions was not going to play well. They decided to take me up on my offer of trying to reverse engineer the device so that each of us three recipients of the doctor's imagination could have our own. The police had a plumbing contractor on retainer. I was escorted by a couple of their technicians to the doctor's house. They couldn't keep their eyes off me. I sucked them both off to get it over with. I needed them satisfied, not horny to get any work done. We entered the doctor's house. I found the access panel on the other side of the shower. Once the panel was removed, I could see the open- source programable micro-controller the doctor had used. I plugged my laptop in to access the device's internal storage. The doctor was a kook, but he was always good with documentation. He especially carefully documented what he felt were his biggest successes. Buried in the file storage were a complete parts list, assembly diagram, and code repository for the device. I quickly downloaded the information. I showed the others what I had found. They didn't understand most of it. They understood the parts list, but the rest was well beyond them. They were plumbers, not programmers. I explained I had all I needed to make more copies of the device. I took the documentation back to my hotel room. I studied the information provided. Something was wrong, I felt incomplete. I couldn't concentrate. I felt uneasy. I wandered through the hotel. Bananas in the small breakfast area called out to me. I took a couple back to my room. I pealed one and slid it into my mouth. It was like a switch turned on. I felt calm and could concentrate again. Soon the swallowing motions of my throat had broken up the banana. The pieces slid down my throat. It wasn't long before I was reaching for another banana to hold in my throat. I soon bought a long, thick dildo. I just felt calmer and more complete with my throat stuffed. It was easier to focus with my throat pulsing on a shaft. It took a week to get all the parts made or properly cut. I assembled the devices in my hotel room. I modified my version of the machine to connect to sink fittings instead of being soldered in like the original design. I could use the water supply for the sink in my hotel bathroom. I lacked the arm strength to make the connections to the bathroom sink. A couple of blowjobs to the hotel maintenance guy and I was all set. It worked perfectly. It was such a relief to be able to flush myself when needed and with some privacy. When the police showed up to take me to the doctor's abode, I instead gave them a couple of copies of the device. I later found that both Rebecca and Sarah had to be institutionalized. Rebecca because she could never remember anything. Sarah, well, for multiple reasons. Sarah could no longer move on her own. Her breasts rested heavily on the ground in front of her. She also couldn't speak. She proved quite able to communicate with pen and paper though. If it had been more than an hour since she had orgasmed, she begged to be fucked. Once she orgasmed, she begged to be killed. I probably would have begged to be killed too if my breasts each weighed more than I did. The poor thing was seriously messed up in the head as well as the body. I couldn't think of anything that I could do for her. Rebecca was highly functional, but not safe to be left on her own. The simple fact that nothing stuck with her for more than 10 minutes meant that she just couldn't function on her own. She was like an Alzheimer's patient. Her lack of memory made her a danger to herself. The one dress that I could wear was getting pretty dingy. It was beginning to get threadbare and worn. Fortunately, Maria came through with a bunch of cute options. None of them made me dizzy or gave me hives. She had perfectly tailored them to tightly hold my upper legs together and show miles of cleavage. Some of them were sparkly and slutty. Others could be mistaken for a slutty version of business clothes. I happily paid for all of them with the cash I had been collecting at night. I told her I would gladly buy as many more as she would be willing to make. She was happy with my payment for her services. She said she would be willing to keep making more outfits. My days were relatively boring. I enjoyed my nights. It gave me great pleasure to sexually please men. The pleasure paled in comparison to a real orgasm, but I wasn't getting one of those anytime soon. Also, the taste of dicks in my mouth was to die for. Eventually, the boredom during the day had me thinking about my previous workplace. I was torn. I knew how I looked and I knew my wife's reaction. I knew I had their respect. I risked losing their respect based on what I now looked like. I knew I was smarter than ever though. I e-mailed them asking about the possibility of a return. My team had a new leader of course, but I still had all my engineering skills, and I knew they were perpetually short-staffed. They replied that they felt so bad that I was kidnapped from their parking lot. They would be happy to have me reapply if I could bring proof of my identity and employment identification documents. The new director of engineering was someone who I had worked closely with in the past. We had a good solid working relationship built on mutual respect. She was fun to work with. She said they would be happy if I came back. Of course, they hadn't seen my new appearance yet, so things may change when they do. I told them I was close to getting the required documents and would let them know when they were in place. It wasn't long after that my lawyers called to inform me that we had a court date. December 12th. The day came and I dressed in my most business-like clothes. The skirt came down to mid-calf. It was slit in the back almost to my knees. This held my knees tightly together but still allowed my legs to move relatively freely below the knee. It was jet black and made of cotton. My shirt was dark purple. It of course hugged my curves and showed miles of cleavage. The fabric was thick enough that it blurred my nipples, nipple rings, and the chain connecting them somewhat. Marie had included ruffles around the top edges of the shirt that further helped hide my stretched nipples. You could still see them if you looked for them. Nothing could cover any of them. They were all too big. They were as subtle as we could get them through. A subdued black belt covered my tiny waist. A black silken scarf tied tightly around my collar covered the obscene words even if it didn't fully obscure the collar. I had found that my shoes connected via Bluetooth to my phone. There was only one option that could be changed. You could send three numbers, R, G, and B numbers to change their color. Super simple interface, but very effective. I set them to jet black for today. Soon the court called my case. It was jarring to hear my old name called out. I slowly minced my way to the front of the room. I tried to look as professional as possible. It was hard given the way I looked. I'm sure it wasn't the only thing hard in that courtroom. My lawyers laid out the case establishing my identity. The police report helped immensely. It wasn't long before the judge had seen enough. "It says here that you want a name change as well," the judge said. "Is that correct?" "[Yes sir,]" I lisped. "The form is right here," my lawyer said handing the judge the form. The judge looked at the name on the form. He looked at me. I sat there as still as I could, but still, some of my bells chimed. They chimed constantly. It was mostly just background noise to me. It annoyed everyone else though. The judge looked again at the form. "Linna Whore Cumdump," he read. He looked at me again. I wished that I could choose another name, but I couldn't call myself anything else. The programming was too strong. He shrugged. "So be it." The gavel slammed. "Next case," he called. I stood up and turned around. There she was, at the back of the courtroom standing up and quickly exiting the room. My wife. She had seen and heard my new name officially being given. A wave of nausea swept over me. There was no way I could catch her. I slowly made my way out of the courtroom. My hard shoes echoing on the hard floor. My jewelry chiming constantly. I met with my lawyers the next day. They had all of the paperwork so that I could once again obtain a state ID. I asked them to do another task for me. Offer a divorce settlement to my wife. Her divorce filing was slowly working its way through the legal system. I wanted to settle and finish the case. I laid out the terms I wanted to see. They kept asking if I was sure about them. I assured them I was. My next stop was the bureau of motor vehicles to obtain an ID card. The clerk raised some eyebrows as they looked from me to the data in their system. They studied the court paperwork carefully. It turned out that since it was a name and gender change and not a new ID that I was given a driver's license. They already had on record that I had a driver's license, so I didn't need to take the driving test. I wasn't sure I could drive in the extreme heels, but it was nice that I could legally try. Unfortunately, they couldn't give me a license right away. It had to be mailed to me. I took my temporary ID and headed to a bank. I was finally able to open an account. The poor clerk's eyes were bugging out of his head for the entire process. He could hardly take his eyes off my massive tits. His eyes bugged out again when I pulled an 8" tall stack of cash out of my small purse. What can I say? I had sucked a lot of cocks! Finally, I headed down to the local social security office. My social security card with my new name on it would be headed my way soon. I emailed my old job a copy of my temporary ID. My housing needs were much like a hooker's for the time being. I needed to be close to dive bars. I needed someplace that wouldn't require pay stubs. I also needed something that wasn't too expensive. I found a cheap, seedy apartment that allowed me to pay cash with no employment verification. The two-month deposit was easily covered. I moved my meager belongings from the hotel to the small apartment. I hired a plumber who moved my enema machine from the hotel to the dingy bathroom of my apartment. Soon after had I finished moving, I got a call from my lawyers. They had a response to my settlement proposal. I needed to come down to their offices so the two parties could meet and try to find an arbitrated settlement.