Apparently, I was in some sort of gland. I was extruded over a long area, wedged in a long channel of dark red fleshy walls. Suddenly, I heard a humming noise. It
was getting closer. No, I was getting closer to it! I splurted out through some orifice into some cup-like device, then down a clear plastic tube and into a beaker.
Looking upward, I saw my method of liberation. A breast pump was attached to the mammery of a large woman, and it had pulled me through the tit. I was still a
liquid, though now almost a milky white. The woman looked down on me. It was the little girl, only now she was a grown woman in her mid-20s. "As your mother, it is
my duty to MAKE something of you," she sneered. She poured flour and yeast into the beaker and mixed it with me. She poured me into a pan and stuck me into a
very hot compartment. Eeeyow! It was the oven of a Magic Chef range. I was now bubbling and burbling and getting more solid. I heard a muffled DING! In came a
big oven mitt, grabbed my resting place and yanked me to freedom. "Perfect," said the grown girl. I was now...