The Third Wish Part 7 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 7: The New Year January 5th. A new year. Just over 2 months since I had been rescued. It was a cold morning. My nipples were tenting atop my cold boobs more than usual. I would have loved to wear a coat, but my skin breaks out too quickly. The best I could do was a long-sleeved teal dress with an ankle-length skirt tightly hugging my legs. I found that I can wear a knit top as long as it scooped low enough in the front and back to leave my back above my corset and my front down to my nipples bare. It helped a little, but I was still cold. The long knit hat that I wore helped as well. I felt naked and out-of-sorts without something in my mouth. When I was home alone, I kept a dildo stuffed between my fat lips and stretching the top of my throat. I usually left it at home when I left the apartment. I just dealt with the uneasy feeling and anxiety that an empty mouth brought. I arrived at the offices early. My lawyers came in soon after. Her lawyers walked into the room just before the agreed-upon meeting time. She followed them in. My wife was well dressed. Expensive clothes. She wore expensive clothes ever since we started getting lottery income. She wore flats. She always hated high heels. She had lots of ankle problems as well. It was no surprise that she wore flats. She was short. She was only a little taller than I was now if I could take off my 14" heels and stand flat- footed. She sat with her legal team. She glared across the table at me. "Miss Cumdump," she said curtly. My lawyer cleared his throat and asked, "What seems to be the disagreement with the proposed offer?" "This whore shouldn't get a penny of my family's money," my wife nearly shouted. "You and my client were married 15 years," my lawyer started. "I never married a female. Certainly not this slut whore," my wife yelled. "My understanding is that in the time you were married, my client brought in nearly all of the income," my lawyer continued. "My understanding is that the current trust providing you income right now was completely the creation of my client without your knowledge or input. Now you say she doesn't deserve anything?" "Absolutely! You deserve nothing. Die in a fire," she yelled at me. Look, my wife isn't a mean person. She just takes betrayal very seriously. My changes were a personal affront to her. She viewed it as a personal rejection. And hated me for it. I couldn't blame her. I hated me for it too. It didn't take long for my lawyer to convince her lawyer that a jury would see us both as victims. I was kidnapped and changed. A jury wouldn't leave me penniless and out on the street. The settlement I was seeking was very modest. Five percent of the monthly payout and all my legal fees to date paid. My wife was making nearly five million dollars per year. A couple of hundred grand in legal fees was less than half of one month's payout. I knew because I logged into our joint account. I knew she had a balance of nearly two million. It would be a rounding error for her. Her monthly payout would reduce from four hundred thousand a month to three hundred eighty thousand. Again, would she even notice? I was giving up all claims on custody of the children, all claim on the house, all claim on her many cars. I was getting out of her life and letting her move on. All I was asking was a very minor percentage. Her lawyers recognized that this was a good deal for her. They also saw that flatly refusing would make me look like a victim in the eyes of a jury. They asked for some private time to confer with their client. My lawyer motioned me to leave. I carefully stood and made my jingling, clacking exit. I could feel my wife glaring at me as I went. I waited in a small conference room while my lawyer went to do some other work. Much later in the day, I was summoned back to the main conference room. My wife was gone. Her lawyers were still there. My lawyer and I walked in and sat down. "She signed," her lawyer said. He passed the document across the table. There at the bottom of the page was her signature. "Linna W. Cumdump." I signed as well. It was done. When all was said and done, I owed my lawyer an additional seven thousand two hundred twenty-two dollars and seventy-six cents. I paid cash. With a steady income and some money in the bank, I put in an offer on a small house. Finally, I heard back from my old job. The new director of engineering called me. She had a lot of concerns over my new name. She wasn't sure if it could be compatible with the business climate at the company. She was also concerned that if I signed any documents, the name would be right there next to their logo. I tried to express that I understood her concerns and I appreciated her candor. She really couldn't understand me through my tiny voice and lisp. In a way, it was a relief. I didn't think I fit in the business world anymore. I certainly didn't fit the image. Verbal communication was a challenge. Not unworkable, but a challenge. Mostly I wasn't sure if I wanted my old team who I loved and respected to see what I had become. No job, lots of free time. I started rebuilding the technology lost in the doctor's lab explosion. The house I put an offer on closed. I was now a homeowner. I again hired a plumber to install an enema device. This time I had a new one. I had modified a tall stool with the nozzle in just the right place. All I had to do was sit on the stool. The stool was tall enough that my legs were just a bit bent sitting on the stool. I was almost standing when I sat on it. The nozzle would find the plug and connect itself. When it was done, I would stand up, and it would disconnect. I had the stool anchored to the floor in the master bathroom instead of a toilet. The house had stairs running to a basement. Navigating stairs in ballet platforms and a hobble skirt was a real challenge. I had to climb the stairs sideways, one careful step at a time. I clutched the handrail for dear life. Slowly I got better and faster at climbing stairs. I always had to do it sideways one step after another. I converted the basement to a laboratory. The technology was expensive, so I couldn't afford much at first. I would sit in my lab, dildo stuffed down my throat, happily contently on problems. I still snuck off every night to get a solid fix of cum. I was developing regular places and people. Soon I had developed a predictable schedule. I developed regular customers. The added cash flow helped fund my projects. I could never get enough cum. I slowly grew hungrier and hungrier. I starting to go to bed hungry every night. I tried to eat normal food, but it tasted horrible. I choked some down every day just to stave off some of the hunger. I needed more cum. Maria continued to add outfits to my collection. She also finished several corsets for me. Just in time too. The constant use was wearing out the one I had. Now came the problem of lacing them. I had used the doctor's lacing machine enough that I was pretty confident I could build another. I had several improvements I wanted to try. I begged Maria to come over to my house for the tests of the machine. I would need help if it didn't work. I was glad I did. It took five tries to make it functional. It took several more months to get the bugs out. It was an odd sense of accomplishment. It was odd to feel successful over being able to lace myself in a crushingly tight corset. My next project was to try to solve some of my hunger problems. It didn't take long before I struck on a mixture of flavorless protein powder, egg whites, water, and salt that tasted just like semen. I finally found something that tasted good. It didn't feel right to just drink the stuff. I made a new device. I attached it to a wall. It had a removable food container that I could click into place. The food would be delivered through a large thick squirting dildo attached to the wall. I would need to kneel in front of it to be able to suck it. It felt so right. It tasted so good. It makes me feel so complete to have a large thick dildo shoved into my throat. Dinner was served! It was so delicious. The volume filled me up. I threw myself into nanotechnology research. I thought there might be something there that could help me. My own body frequently got in my way. My large breasts would sweep things off tables when I turned. When my thin arms would brush against my stretched nipples, the pain would shoot through my body. I would squeak and drop what I was doing. My vision was restricted above and below by the long lashes sprouting from my eyelids. Don't get me started about the sexual need. Each day that went by, my cunt longed more and more for a good fucking. The memory of my one experience on the fucking machine would often overwhelm my thoughts. It was so cruel that he gave me that one experience before sealing my slit. If I had never experienced those highs, I probably wouldn't desire a repeat experience so much. Instead, my pussy always ached. The fire in my crotch never died down. My juices constantly dripped through the holes in the plate filled by my clitoris ring. The inside of my thighs was always wet from pussy juice. Everyone I met could smell it as well. I exuded sex. As much as I wanted sex, I couldn't have it though. My feet were always moving to keep me balanced. I could never stand still. The area of my shoes that touched the ground was just too small to balance someone of my proportions. My long fingernails with their permanent rings made everyday tasks a chore. Combined with the permanent weakness of my arms, I often felt helpless. My long flowing hair often snagged on things. Many days I would braid it to keep it out of the way. It took so long to braid. I threw myself into my research. I was well on my way to becoming an expert in nanotechnology. I lost track of time. Many days I wouldn't leave the house at all. I would drink my protein drink. I would sleep my short two-hour sleep cycle. I mostly spent my time in research and experimentation. I lost track of how many days passed. One day it happened. I didn't notice at first. A ten-point loss of IQ over an hour isn't a big deal if you are starting at 300. I don't know how far gone I was when I finally noticed. I felt hornier than I had in a long time. I think I noticed when I was squeezing both my tits as hard as I could with my small weak hands. The article page that I had read three times without comprehending it once temporarily forgotten. It finally occurred to my rapidly dumbing mind that the cum tasting drink was no substitute for the real thing. I had finally burned through the backlog of intelligence maintaining dicks I'd sucked. It seemed to accelerate. The drop from 90 to 80 is a much bigger change. While my brain power was sucked away, my sex drive went through the roof. I soon found myself fucking my cleavage with a big dildo. My tiny fist beat against the plate covering my crotch. There was almost a steady stream of fluid leaking from my desperate cunt. One thing filled my mind. I had to find some dick to suck. The sun was bright in the sky as I left my small house. I hardly noticed. A letter carrier walked along the sidewalk from house to house. Damn. Female. No help at all. It had to be a weekday because nobody was out and about. My small steps didn't carry me very fast, but I wasn't thinking. I was searching. While not fast, I was loud. I jingled all the way. My hard tipped shoes echoed off the hard sidewalk. Occasionally, a bored housewife would come to investigate the noise. I didn't see a single male though. My frustration built. I left a trail of pussy juice behind me on the sidewalk. Finally, I heard the sounds of construction. My bimbo mind said, "construction equal cocks". I walked toward the sounds. Slowly the sounds grew louder over my chiming, clacking noises. Finally, it came into view. A large house was being built. I was right, virtually everyone on the job site was male. One of the guys noticed me. He stopped and stared. I'm sure I made quite a sight. Two massive boobs almost floating above a wide hip perched on shoes most hookers couldn't wear. He put down the large board he was carrying. Not taking his eyes off me, he said, "Hey guys, you have to see this!" He stood where he was, frozen in place, as I approached. Guys started appearing from all over the job site. Appreciative sounding swear words were heard from many directions. "Can I help you?" he asked. "Whike towawee? It wooth be whike towawee awethom if you thucked my faith?" I begged him to fuck my face. "What?" He asked. "Your cock? My whips?" I managed, pointing first at his crotch, then at my lips. "You want me to fuck your face?" he asked in disbelief. "Yeah, towawee?" I said. I stuck my thumb in my mouth like it was a dick. I started working it in and out. I wrapped my pierced tongue around it coating it with saliva. I continued to strut closer as I did this. I could see his pants tent. It looked painful. He barely noticed. I had captured his attention so hard. I dropped to my knees in the dirt right in front of his crotch. My ankle length baby blue hobble skirt was covered in mud. I didn't even notice. I licked the outside of his pants giving him a clear view of my tongue piercings. My long nails fumbled at his zipper. Suddenly spurred to action, he whipped his dick out. It was a good size. Not the biggest I had ever seen, but certainly not the smallest. Before he knew what hit him, my mouth had engulfed his cock. The head of his cock was firmly being milked by my well-practiced throat. My eyes stared up at his face through the long lashes of my half-open eyes. The bulbous end of the stud in the middle of my tongue worked its way up and down his stiff shaft. It didn't take long before he exploded down my throat. I sucked him dry. With a yelp, he pulled his rapidly softening dick out of my still sucking mouth. His suddenly over-stimulated dick couldn't take the pleasurable sensations anymore. I heard applause from all around me. Some shouts of "way to go Joe" or "fuck yeah". I merely said, "Necthhs?" as I licked my lips. One rather large guy got the message. He boldly stepped forward. I locked eyes with him. I ran my long nail over his pant's zipper. He quickly freed his large cock. I guided it to my mouth, drawing him nearer in the process. I maintained eye contact with him through my thick eyelashes. It was slightly more challenging to get his large member down my tiny throat, but I was well-practiced. It wasn't long before his penis head was compressing my throat against my tight collar. Soon his sperm was safely added to my stomach. The third guy was prepared. As soon as the second guy pulled out, the third guy slid his right in. While I sucked him off, some of the others explored my lower regions. It didn't take much feeling around to find the giant anal plug I carried. I'm pretty sure that just turned on some of them more. Fortunately today I had worn a skirt and blouse instead of my normal tight dresses. They quickly unfastened my skirt. It dropped to the ground around my knees. I felt a tug on my clitoris ring. "What the fuck?" I heard from behind. "This slut has some sort of plate covering her pussy." "No wonder she is horny as hell." It took almost two hours before every guy on the job was finished. There were only twenty-six of them, so I knew I needed more and soon. For now, though, my horniness was slowly coming down. My intelligence had returned. My horniness was dropping much slower than my intelligence returning. I asked them where I could get more. It took me a while to be understood. Many expressed shock that I wasn't satisfied yet. I heard lots of side comments about how much of a total slut I was. Yes, my collar read "Slut Whore", what did they expect? I pulled down my fat shiny bottom lip showing them it said, "Cock Sleeve" there. They got the picture. "We could take her to the hall," one guy suggested. "Text the other crews. Tell them to meet us there," another guy said. "Yeah, we'll give this slut her fill," another said. Soon my skirt was back in place. I was loaded in the front seat of a pickup. The ride was a short one. They carried me inside. I was quickly stripped of my clothes. I gasped and cried in a mix of pain and pleasure as they played with my sensitive and stretched nipples. One of them got an idea to tie me up. Soon I was hanging from the ceiling upside down. They found a rolling office chair. They tied me so that my full pouty glossy red lips were the perfect height for someone sitting in the chair. They tied a rope through the D rings in my nipple tips to brace me from swaying side to side. They installed an anchor on the floor and tied my large hoop earrings to the floor. For good measure, they also tied my clitoris ring to brace me from swaying forward and backward. Any movement pulled on my rings. My hands they left free to grasp dicks. Another crew started trickling into the room. Many more appreciative expletives were uttered as they saw me. Soon someone was seated in the chair. They spread their legs and scooted their dick into my waiting mouth. Their legs wrapped around my head. Each thrust yanked on my earrings. Each thrust pulled at my nipples and ripped at my clitoris. The pain mixed with pleasure was intense. It was hard to concentrate on sucking him off. I knew any damage would repair itself, but I hated the pain. I couldn't move. I was completely at their mercy. Most dragged it out a lot longer than it would have taken me to get them off. Many pulled most of the way out before shooting their load. Hanging upside down, the spooge ran down into my nose. I had to suck it out of my nose quickly between loads or I would suffocate. Hour after hour, the line never seemed to die down. Some took great pleasure in pushing my tied body around. They enjoyed my expressions of pain as they roughly fucked me. Others just shoved their dicks down my throat and let me milk them dry with my well-trained throat. Finally, the last one pulled out. He staggered from the room, turned off the lights, and left the building. What about me? I was left alone in the dark building. My hands explored the thin ropes extending from my rings. They had tied all the ends at either the floor or the ceiling. I couldn't get to a single end of any of the ropes. My delicate arms and legs couldn't pull anything hard enough to dislodge any of the attachments. I was well and truly stuck. With nothing else to do, I eventually fell asleep. I didn't sleep long. I awoke in pain. Dim light had begun to filter into the building. It must be close to sunrise. It wasn't long before the lights turned on in the building. I blinked against the bright light. A construction worker walked into the room. He saw me still hanging there. "Oh shit," he said. "They left you here? What will the boss say when she gets in? Crap." He moved toward me. A stern voice behind him said, "What will I say about what?" The boss came into view. If I hadn't heard the worker say, "she", I would have trouble guessing her gender. She was tall for a woman. Stocky build. Strong arms. Short hair. Unremarkable face. She was weathered and wrinkled from long hours in the sun. She saw me hanging there. "What the fuck did you Neanderthals do now?" she demanded of the worker. Her face was level with my golden crotch plate. Her eyes were drawn there. Her gaze extended downward. Her eyes widened as she saw my tiny waist and massive breasts. "What the fuck?" she said again. Another couple of guys had come into the room. It took a while, but the guys explained that they didn't find me, I had come up to them and started sucking them off. I started begging to be let go. "I hate sluts," the boss said. "They give us women a bad name. Leave her there, I'll figure out what to do which her later. And stuff something in her mouth, I'm already sick of her voice." They rolled up a couple of dirty socks and stuffed them in my mouth. A piece of duct tape over my swollen lips held everything in. I was gagged and left naked. More and more people came into the room. I was pinched, pulled, and tweaked over and over. The boss called the meeting to order like I wasn't even there. I was facing the wrong way to see anything, but it sounded like your typical safety meeting. The boss ended it with, "Ok, now everyone get the hell out of here." They guys poured from the room. As they passed, I was molested all over again. Soon the boss slid over the office chair to my head. As far as I could tell, the room was empty except for her and me. She pulled down her pants and panties and sat in the comfortable looking office chair. She spread her legs and wheeled closer to my head. She reached down and pulled the tape from my mouth. The socks were stuffed in too tight for me to push them out without help. As soon as my mouth was clear, she said, "Do a good job and I might let you go." She rolled her lower lips right against my swollen lips. I had never pleasured a woman since my transformation. My training in the virtual simulator had included women, but I had never done it in real life. The boss smelled strong. She had a very strong musky smell mixed with sweat. It turned my nose. She ground her hairy untrimmed mound into my face. "Come on slut, do you thing," she demanded. I tentatively extended my pierced tongue and gave her a quick lick. The taste was worse than the smell. I guess this confirmed that I wasn't a lesbian. Women didn't do anything for me anymore. "Yeah, a lot more of that," she ordered. She grabbed the back of my head and ground her pussy into my face. She was surprisingly strong. She continued to hump my face as I tentatively licked her again. "Oh, those piercings feel so good," she said. "Keep going." It seemed the only way out was through. I tried not to gag and licked for all I was worth. I couldn't get over how awful it tasted. I did my best to keep going though. Her muff hair tickled my face and gagged me. Eventually, she came flooding my mouth with the awful fluid. "Suck me clean," she said. She continued to press my face to her hairy beaver. I did my best to clean her off just to get the terrible experience over with. Eventually, she sat back with a sign. "Not bad, whore," she said. "Not great, but not bad either." She got up and walked away. She came back a few minutes later with some zip ties. She zip-tied my ring finger fingernail rings to my nipple D rings. Then she began to cut me free. Soon my rings were free and I was swaying freely from the ceiling. I was fortunate that I had been wearing a braid. It had piled up on the floor. She pulled my clitoris leash between my legs. She pulled up my hair toward my feet until my head was as far back as it could go. She tied off my hair to my clit ring. My hair pulled painfully at my clit and vice versa. Finally, she lowered me to the floor. With my hands fastened to my huge tits and my head pulled back, my mobility was severely hampered. I managed to roll to one side. My hands fastened to my boobs, I used my elbow to lever myself to a kneeling position. My rigid corset resisted my attempts to get to my feet. Eventually, I managed. I struggled awkwardly to my tall high-heeled feet. She slapped my naked ass hard, and said, "Get the hell out of here." I minced awkwardly toward the door trying to peer through my long lower lashes. "[Can you please, like, give me my, like, clothes back?]" I pleaded. "I can't understand you, slut. If you want me to tie you back up, keep talking. Otherwise, get lost before I change my mind," she said. Finger still tied to my nipple, I strutted to the door. I managed to back up against the push bar. My large, fat ass pushed open the heavy door. I stumbled outside into the sunlight. The air was cool, but not cold. A brisk spring day. Warm enough to avoid frostbite, but not much warmer. Nearly naked and restrained, I made my way toward the sidewalk. Bending my bound ring finger toward my palm, I was able to cover most of my areola with my small hands. The golden plate covering my cunt gleamed in the bright light. To anyone looking, it looked like I was wearing shoes, fishnet stockings, chastity plate, corset, and nothing else. I was of course wearing even less than that. The fishnet stockings were permanently inked on. I looked at the street signs. My restored intellect recognized enough street signs that I knew my location. It would be a long walk back. I was several miles from my home. I started the long walk. My head was held yanked back by my tied hair. I had to peer through my long lower lashes to see where I was going. The first half-hour went fairly uneventfully. I heard a lot of honking and yelled lewd suggestions from passing motorists. I made decent progress. I was strutting as fast as I could. I had covered almost a full mile in the first half-hour. Nearly running, I managed roughly half a normal person's walking pace. It was so frustrating. I had around another 5 miles to go. Despite the vigorous exercise, I was cold. The rapid staccato of my hard shoes beat against the concrete sidewalk. My bells swung and rang wildly. My earrings clanged together and against my rigid collar. A cacophony rang out with every step. Every stumble caused me to try to swing my arms for balance. Every time, my restrained finger yanked on my stretched nipple. I was newly crying from the humiliation and pain. Then it happened. A group of unsavory boys, probably late teens came down the sidewalk toward me. "What do we have here," the one who was the leader said. "Slut whore," he read my collar. "Slut," he read the ink above my cunt. Think we should see if that is true?" "[Like, please just let me like go?]" I begged uselessly. "Oh, I love the voice," the leader said. "Don't know or care what you said, but I love the voice." They dragged me behind a large nearby tree. I was forced to my knees. "Pull it out and suck it," he said. I lifted my palms from my nipples. They could see the rings linked together. "Kinky," he said, pulling his moderate-sized cock through his fly. He grabbed the back of my head and pulled toward his crotch. My hair yanked painfully on my clit. I cried out in pain as he shoved his dick into my mouth. I leaned forward on my knees to relieve the pain in my clit. The head of his penis slipped down my tight throat. My hair still pulled on my clitoris, but not as bad as before. I quickly wrapped my pierced and ringed tongue around his shaft. I wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible. As I was pushed around by their vigorous face fucking, I kept being thrown off balance. Over and over again, I tried to reach out to catch myself and ended up yanking my painfully stretched nipples instead. It took well over an hour before all ten of them were milked dry. When the last one finally blew his load, they walked off leaving me behind the tree. Hands still bound, I struggled to my high-heeled feet. Keeping my hands pressed painfully against my long stretched nipples, I continued my journey. Everywhere I went, people stopped and stared. I was honestly surprised no one called the police. As I walked my intestines began to cramp. It had been too long since I last had an enema. I was full and it was getting worse. Twice more I was stopped by a group of boys. The second time there were only three of them, so it didn't take long. The third time there were nine of them. It took over an hour until they were satisfied enough to stagger off. They left me laying on a picnic table with my head hanging off one end. Bound as I was, I tried to get off without falling. I tried rolling to one side to get into a sitting position. Instead, I rolled off the side of the table. I tried to reach out with my hand. I yanked hard on my sensitive tits. I fell. My bound left hand and breast hit the attached bench hard. I shrieked in pain. I fell painfully on my ass in the small space between the bench and table. I lay crying in the small space. After a few minutes, I force myself to roll painfully to my knees on the hard concrete beneath the bench. Painfully I crawled on my elbows and knees from under the table. My boobs squished and scraped against the wood as I pushed myself out of the small space. Finally, bruised and scraped, I managed to stagger to my feet. My knees were bleeding and the sides of my boobs had several nasty scrapes. As I walked the scrapes and bruises slowly felt better. The throbbing pain remained, but I suspected the external wounds were gone. The nanites in my body quickly repaired the damage. The sun had set by the time I reached my neighborhood. Lights were on in the houses I passed on the darkening streets. The noise I made as I walked echoed in the evening air. I burned with embarrassment. The noise had to have every house peering out into the dark at my passing figure. In shame, I wished I could vanish. Arriving at my house, I had to squat to turn the doorknob with my still-bound hands. I stumbled inside. I closed the door behind myself and leaned heavily against it. I began to shake. The shaking soon turned to tears. Soon I was curled up on the floor weeping. The suppressed embarrassment, fear, and stress of the last couple of days washed over me. I could have easily been kidnapped again. I could have never been released by the construction worker's boss. I could have been taken by anyone who I met on the street. I continued to shake and cry for some time. Eventually, I cried myself out and pulled myself together. Painfully pulling on my nipples, I struggled again to my feet. Squatting, I locked my door. Looking around, I was surprised and pleased to see that I hadn't been robbed. I had left my door unlocked for almost two full days. The full- on bimbo I had been the previous day hadn't thought to lock the door. I was completely focused on one thing at the time. It wasn't security. I counted myself lucky. I retrieved some scissors. I tried to cut the zip ties. My hand strength wasn't strong enough to cut the tough plastic. I worked the zip tie closer to the hinge of the scissors for more leverage. Still, my tiny weak hands couldn't cut the strong plastic. I placed the scissors between my heavy breast and the hard countertop. I leaned heavily into the scissors. The scissors kept slipping sideways. Finally, with a snap one hand was free. It took a while to free the other, but finally, it too broke with a snap. I went to my enema nozzle. The added pressure of the water trying to flow into my already full ass caused even more painful cramps. I almost fell over in relief when I finally emptied. I showered off for a long time, trying to wash the shame and fear away. It didn't work. Eventually, I gave up and got out of the shower. Soon the water shed off me and I went to bed. A few hours later I was awake again. It was still dark out. I lay in bed thinking. I had to come up with a way to ensure the events of the previous couple of days were not a recurring thing. I did what I usually did. Research. Lots of it. The next several nights found me again under a table in a bar sucking off a string of guys to keep the bimbo a bay. I also was searching for something specific. Eventually, I found it. A sleazy strip club called the "Pussy Hole" run by a pimp with an entrepreneuring attitude. He liked my idea. A few weeks later, everything was in place. A private room had been converted for the use. The room had been shortened by three feet leaving a small tight chamber in the back. Cameras in the small chamber showed the occupant from nearly every angle on the screen in the rest of the room. Centered in the wall that divided the room was a window. The window was divided into four panes. The center of the four panes was divided by a large round steel-framed hole. The four panes were filled by one-way mirrors. The person in the small chamber could not see out. The reflection evident from multiple cameras in the small chamber proved that the small chamber couldn't see out. A small hatch allowed access to the tiny chamber and sealed nearly invisible when not in use. That afternoon, I took a cab down to the strip club. As usual, the taxi driver was full of lewd suggestions about what I could do with my exaggerated body and his dick. Ignoring him, I climbed out, paid my fare, and walked into my new evening work. I squeezed through the narrow trap door. It was sealed behind me. I stood in the corner and carefully stripped off my dress. As usual, other than my corset, I wasn't wearing any other clothes. I folded the dress neatly and placed it in the corner. I kneeled before the hole in the wall. A large spider gag extended from the hole in the wall. A head harness was attached to the gag. I stretched my fat plump lips over the gag. I worked my teeth over the large ring. I buckled the harness around my head and waited for my first customer. From the other side of the wall, the screen flared to life. Every angle of my naked body was visible. My ringed and chained tits hung down invitingly. They swayed as I breathed. My big fat ass stuck into the air. The large ass-filling plug was visible. The plate riveted to my vagina was visible. The mirror surrounding my heavily made-up face was visible in the cameras. I could only stare into my own clear blue eyes. My hair was swept to my right and cascaded along my face to pile up below my head on the floor. Through the one-way glass, my wide-open mouth stretched over the wide ring was visible. Invisible to me, nearly every guy who entered the room would wave his hands in front of my unseeing eyes just to make sure I couldn't see them through the one-way glass. Soon a dick stuck into my open mouth. I eagerly sucked on it. I licked the stiffening shaft with my ringed tongue. I played with my pierced nipples that dangled to almost touching the floor. My long fingernails ran along my inflated tits and lightly pinched my painfully stretched nipples. I could feel the cock in my mouth stiffen as I did this. It didn't take long before I was drinking the delicious cum. Each load of cum not only tasted fantastic but gave me quite a sexual thrill. It was like a mini-orgasm each time someone came in my mouth. Sadly, none of these did anything to reduce my arousal level. Every morning I left more turned on. Every day I was slightly hornier. Word spread, demand grew. Initially, we had agreed that I would be sucking cocks from six until midnight. The first night I did twenty- nine blowjobs. After a week I was over forty. The pimp demanded more. My submissive nature gave in to these demands. Soon I was at it for twelve hours each night. I would leave the club as everyone else was starting to head for work. He was supposed to pay me ten dollars per dick sucked. He was always finding "maintenance costs" that would supposedly cut into my share of the money. I usually sucked around fifty cocks per night, but would only leave with two or three hundred dollars. He was charging twenty- five dollars each, so he was clearing at least six grand a week on me. When I got home, I would take a quick shower. I would usually do my daily enema while showering. I would kneel before the large cock of my protein drink. I would suck it until it was empty. I would fall asleep with my mouth tasting of cum. A couple of hours later, I would wake up. I worked in my lab for a few hours, then headed back for more sex. Eventually, I bought myself a small two-seat car. It took me a while to work the pedals with my spike shoes, but eventually, I got the hang of it. It eased my travel to and from the strip club. Work in the lab progressed slowly. I wasn't getting anywhere with any modifications to the nanotechnology holding me in my present form. I discovered that the rings piercing my various parts were protected from change. Any time I started to cut or modify them, the nanotechnology kicked in and put things back the way they were before. The same applied to my shoes and fingernails. I found that this didn't apply to my collar or the chain connecting my two breasts. It became clear that anything the doctor added after he "sealed me" could be removed. Using specialized tools of my design, I managed to cut off the tight collar and remove it. I used the same tool to cut the chain connecting my ringed tits. Clothes fit much better without the chain running between my tit rings. It was much less embarrassing to leave the house without the collar. The chains running from my long dangling earrings would repair themselves when cut. Same with my clit ring and leash. My various bells and nipple stretches were likewise protected by the nanites. I changed course and started rebuilding the fusion reactor we had previously built. My complete lack of physical strength held me back. I built a robot to help me. Using that robot, I built a more sophisticated robot. A series of progressively more sophisticated and intricate robots followed over the next two years. Soon I had a valuable and loyal assistant and bodyguard whenever I was in my home. His strength proved invaluable in building the reactor. The reactor parts filled nearly the entire basement. A year later, the reactor fired up. A month later, it was running continuously. The odd dichotomy continued. During the night, I played the role of sex-starved bimbo sucking off dozens upon dozens of dicks. During the day I was the world's preeminent nuclear physicist, even though nobody recognized me as such yet. I began to submit papers for publication. I was flatly rejected because I lacked any meaningful credentials. When I switched my identity over, my master's degree in engineering came with me. The degree didn't impress the physics community very much. My name didn't help either. Miss Cumdump just doesn't have the academic rigor that other names might connote. A nearby college offered a Ph.D. program in physics. I signed up using my engineering degree to cover prerequisites. They needed a GRE score to let me in. I walked out of the test center with a 170 in both Verbal Reasoning and Quantitative Reasoning and a 6.0 in Analytical Writing. Highest possible score. This made them take notice of this "bimbo". They let me in the program. I mostly spoke in class via text to speech on my tablet. I couldn't shake the compulsion to talk like a bimbo. I also couldn't get people to understand me past my lisp. I'm pretty sure many of my classmates thought I couldn't speak. Often when I was out, I had a short fat dildo resting comfortably in my mouth. It was hidden behind my fat lips. The tip was just past my tonsils just before it started cutting off my breathing. I always felt less naked and more relaxed with something stretching my soft pallet. My appearance continued to embarrass me. In general, after I aced the first test of each class, my classmates left me alone. The Ph.D. physics program wasn't that large. Everyone knew everyone else. Virtually everyone in the program was male. A small mousy fellow student named Vivian and I were the only females in the department. Eventually, it happened. I walked into class one morning. Strutted and jangled might be more descriptive. One of the students was bitter about getting continuously lower scores than "the bimbo". He stared openly as I walked in. "Aren't you the whore who sucks cocks at the Pussy Hole down on third?" He demanded. I turned red under my heavily colored face. "Yeah, I knew it," he said. "How do you have time to do your homework while sucking cocks all night every night?" The murmuring from the other students grew. I tried to ignore them and go to my seat. He blocked my way. "Well, answer me," he demanded. I lowered my head. He grabbed me and shook me. "Leave her alone," Vivian said. "Make me," he said. The professor came in and my classmate quickly released me. "This isn't over," he hissed at me as he went back to his seat. The next day, it was clear from the comments that most of the students in the department had gone down to the Pussy Hole to verify for themselves. They made it clear that they knew what I was and how I spent my nights. Continuing became more difficult. Rumors spread. Unfortunately for me, most of them were true. I became more of a social outcast. On the other hand, the tests were easy. I was already operating way above the level of the classes. Most professors wanted nothing to do with me. Only one would agree to be my advisor. He had conditions though. He made it clear that he knew what I did at night and he expected me to suck him off whenever he wanted it. I had to have an advisor to proceed with my thesis, so I reluctantly agreed. When I wasn't in class or sucking off cocks, I began work on a new robot. I needed one that didn't look as sophisticated that I could take to school. I needed the strength of my robot in the research lab, but I couldn't bring my robot because it was too advanced and would attract attention. Soon with robotic assistance, I was building a second-generation reactor in the school's lab. Most of the more advanced parts, I built in my lab at home. I only did the final assembly in the school's lab. I flew through all the classes they had to offer. Soon my thesis defense approached. Whenever my advisor would question me about my thesis topic, I use my sex appeal and talented mouth on his stiff dick to change the subject. It was two weeks before I was supposed to defend my thesis. Unbeknownst to everyone, my reactor had been running for a week. It was self- sustaining. The fields protecting it from sabotage and protecting the lab from the reaction were running perfectly. I submitted my thesis. They tore it apart. They objected to every novel theory and the careful conclusion I had drawn. My defense was somewhat fun. I went to the board and mathematically proved them wrong. Unfortunately, the math was above their understanding, so it was difficult to prove myself right. I carefully took copies of each of their criticisms. I fully recorded the entire session. I had convinced several school administrators to come to watch the proceedings. I tried to be understood past my lisp. "[Like, come down to like the projects lab? I'll like totally show you why I like know I'm right?]" I motioned the review panel to follow me. Text to speech on my tablet eventually got the point across. They followed me to the projects lab. I logged into the terminal. At my command, the panels hiding the reactor from view fell away, and there in its glory was the field contained fusion reaction. Plasma fed from the reactor to compact and efficient turbines where megawatts of power was being generated. It was hard to deny the physical evidence running in their basement. Various aspects of the reactor proved each theory true. It was funny watching the professors try to take credit for the theories they had just been denying. Even the non-technical school administrators saw right through that. I got the credit for the reactor. And I got my Ph.D. Doctor Cumdump quickly became the unlikely but recognized foremost expert in nuclear fusion. Travel to certain conferences and symposiums was expected and required. I let the pimp know which nights I wouldn't be in town. He scoffed at me and told me I would be there. He was completely pissed off the night I returned. Yelling at me and demanding to know where I was. When he finished, I simply said, "[I like told you I would be like gone?]" I struggled with public events. It was difficult to be understood past my heavy lisp. It was also embarrassing to always uptalk like everything was a question. It felt stupid to keep throwing "like", "totally", and "awesome" into sentences about nuclear physics. I couldn't stop saying it though. My programming was really strong. The time I was spending performing sex acts grew much greater than the rest of my day. Something had to change. I began to research biophysics. I hoped to find a solution to my problems. Things changed. Just not the way I expected.