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**** Another 5 Word Request from bbwchan: "Why did you pull that?" -anonymous
The last time we saw Kestrel was when she was breaking into a cookie laboratory fav.me/d47usyj ****
"I'm not telling you shit." Kestrel had shredded her voice by screaming abuses at her tormentors, and now all she could manage was a quiet rasp, further muffled by her cleavage. She didn't bother glancing up at the door- laying her head down was probably the closest thing to rest she was going to get for the next few hours of torture.
"Oh golly-gosh, Kestrel!"
There was a fellow FORK agent at the door- some thin, redheaded rookie Kestrel didn't recognize. Hope sprang within her from a well she feared was long dry. She was saved! "It's the lever on the left. Let's get out of here," again, spoken in a pathetic croak that didn't get the slightest reaction from her rescuer.
The other woman strode past the console, then ducked behind her. Using the release lever would have been an easier way to free her, but manually cutting her bonds would work too. Kestrel wiggled her arms in a way that hopefully highlighted her restraints. Her wrists were sore and raw. Infuriatingly, no knife met her bonds. "Oh wow. Wow wow wow wowie wow-wow." She orbited Kestrel like a surveillance satellite caught in a larger planet's gravitational field, her FORK wrist watch toggled to video recorder mode, pulling it away to frame the wide span of Kestrel's hips, then close in to record the lacy pattern of her bra. "Holy crud-sticks."
Kestrel squirmed. She didn't want to be taped looking the way she did now. Her captors failed to break her will with an unrelenting stream of baked goods, but they did succeed at fattening her up. She felt like an enormous Thanksgiving Day parade balloon- one inflated with ham instead of helium. "Are you shitting me? Stop. There's no time!" Luckily this snapped the other agent out of her smitten dream state.
"Huh? Oh. The thing, right?"
"Yes. I've seen the guards use the left lever to free me."
The red-haired FORK agent hesitated, hand over the correct lever then the other. She looked like she was carefully reading the labels, then she stared at Kestrel's belly, eyes glazing over. She yanked the wrong one.
"What the fuck? Why'd you pull that?" A familiar and dreaded machine dropped though a hole in the ceiling. There was a tinny whine and then cookies spooled out from a drum magazine and loaded a curved chute that ended in front of her face. The scent of warm, semi-sweet chocolate chips filled her nostrils. Kestrel gulped down a shameful flood of anticipatory saliva.
"I thought you meant your left, my right. Whoops." The girl said with an apologetic voice but a knowing smirk. She steadied her watch-cam.
The last time we saw Kestrel was when she was breaking into a cookie laboratory fav.me/d47usyj ****
"I'm not telling you shit." Kestrel had shredded her voice by screaming abuses at her tormentors, and now all she could manage was a quiet rasp, further muffled by her cleavage. She didn't bother glancing up at the door- laying her head down was probably the closest thing to rest she was going to get for the next few hours of torture.
"Oh golly-gosh, Kestrel!"
There was a fellow FORK agent at the door- some thin, redheaded rookie Kestrel didn't recognize. Hope sprang within her from a well she feared was long dry. She was saved! "It's the lever on the left. Let's get out of here," again, spoken in a pathetic croak that didn't get the slightest reaction from her rescuer.
The other woman strode past the console, then ducked behind her. Using the release lever would have been an easier way to free her, but manually cutting her bonds would work too. Kestrel wiggled her arms in a way that hopefully highlighted her restraints. Her wrists were sore and raw. Infuriatingly, no knife met her bonds. "Oh wow. Wow wow wow wowie wow-wow." She orbited Kestrel like a surveillance satellite caught in a larger planet's gravitational field, her FORK wrist watch toggled to video recorder mode, pulling it away to frame the wide span of Kestrel's hips, then close in to record the lacy pattern of her bra. "Holy crud-sticks."
Kestrel squirmed. She didn't want to be taped looking the way she did now. Her captors failed to break her will with an unrelenting stream of baked goods, but they did succeed at fattening her up. She felt like an enormous Thanksgiving Day parade balloon- one inflated with ham instead of helium. "Are you shitting me? Stop. There's no time!" Luckily this snapped the other agent out of her smitten dream state.
"Huh? Oh. The thing, right?"
"Yes. I've seen the guards use the left lever to free me."
The red-haired FORK agent hesitated, hand over the correct lever then the other. She looked like she was carefully reading the labels, then she stared at Kestrel's belly, eyes glazing over. She yanked the wrong one.
"What the fuck? Why'd you pull that?" A familiar and dreaded machine dropped though a hole in the ceiling. There was a tinny whine and then cookies spooled out from a drum magazine and loaded a curved chute that ended in front of her face. The scent of warm, semi-sweet chocolate chips filled her nostrils. Kestrel gulped down a shameful flood of anticipatory saliva.
"I thought you meant your left, my right. Whoops." The girl said with an apologetic voice but a knowing smirk. She steadied her watch-cam.
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dont feed here feed me whit that thing