Chapter 4
I gave Susan some magazines to read in the waiting room and hurried through to the lounge to partake of my tea and toast. I knew Mrs. Dawson would be put out over the ruined lunch, I dare not offend the good lady any more.
This was proving a most eventful day, I thought to myself! First an unexpected fuck, now a case of rape, and to follow the pleasure of hearing a young, inexperienced teen-ager tell me the intimate details of an affair with her own step-father and the ever more pleasant task of examining and delving into her genitals. Yes, it was quite a day.
This physical examination of young breasts and cunts had been a delight denied me, except for rare instances, since I took up practice. Dr. Benson had had an uncanny nose for smelling out these cases and reserving these for his own personal attention. I had heard rumors that some years back he had nearly overstepped the mark in regard to one particularly attractive child. He had been examining her for a medical certificate to enter a public school, and had lingered much to long over certain parts of her anatomy, and examined them more closely than professional duty required. The girl had experienced her first orgasm as a result and afterwards related the happy event to her sister, who in turn had told their mother. Fortunately Mrs. Dawson had been present part of the time and the child was known to be such a plausible liar that her tale would never have been credited by other than the mother herself. So, the matter blew over.
But this present case was a different kettle of fish. Here I had good reason for asking the most intimate questions and spending as long as I liked exploring her young cunt; nor in the interests of keeping the affair dark, would I be expected to have any one else present.
I finished my second cup of tea, lit a cigarette and walked off to perform the welcome task ahead.
Susan was where I had left her, enjoying reading a schoolgirl's annual. She looked up when I entered, and seemed much more at ease.
I took her arm and led her through into my surgery. "Now, Susan, I want you to tell me all about it from the beginning. I didn't want to em-barras you by asking questions in front of your mother, but you're not to shy to tell me now we're alone, are you?"
"No. Not really, doctor. But it may be hard to put it into words ... " she stammered. "But I'll do my best ... " she paused to gather her thoughts, then said: "It started over six months ago. Father, I always call him that, because I don't remember my real dad, used to come into my bathroom and, when Mummy was out, he would offer to wash my back for me. Sometimes he would go on to wash my breasts too ... they had just started to develope and I was more conscious of them than I am now. It was somehow rather exciting to feel his rough hands rubbing lather round them and over my sensitive nipples, and I felt my heart quickening, a sensation of elation. He started to talk about my young swellings and tell me how pretty they looked. He used to pinch and pull my small tits ... he said it would make them grow big and firm like my mom's.
One day he told me to stand up as he'd pulled a muscle at work, he said, and couldn't bend to wash my back. I didn't think much of it, cause, as Mother told you, I've never been brought up to be shy or self-conscious. He teased me about the few odd hairs I had at the bottom of my belly, and said I was growing up fast and would soon be a young woman, capable of having children and satisfying some nice man who loved me and was kind to me. He started telling me about sex and the funny names you use for those parts of your bodies, like cunt and quim, and fanny or minge for a girl and prick and tool and cock for a man.
One night when he was telling me how a man puts his prick up a woman's cunt to make her pregnant, he asked me if Yd ever seen a boy's cock. When I said I hadn't, except for pictures of sculptures in my school books, he suddenly unbuttoned his trousers and said he would show me his. I remember I was amazed at how big it looked and wondered how it was ever possible to push it into so small a hole. My mother must have a very large cunt, I thought. He made me feel it, how hard and stiff it was, and showed me how a woman rubbed it to relieve a man's feeling or excite him before having intercourse.
He asked me if I ever played with myself and if touching my private parts excited me. When I said I didn't know what he meant, he started to finger my slit and massage it with his hand. I got warm thrilling sensations inside me and my legs started twitching. I felt naughty and very happy. I held his prick and started rubbing it as he'd told me mother did. Well, the excitement grew and grew and then suddenly I felt throbbing inside my fanny and it all felt sticky and wet inside. I was panting and my body was quivering with a strange passion I had not known before. I closed my eyes in bliss till the funny feelings grew less and less. When I opened them, it was just in times to see spurts of thick white cream coming out of a small hole in the end of his cock. It shot out in a great jet all over the carpet and we both laughed. Some of the cream, which he says is called spunk, trickled down over my fingers and the back of my hand. He told me to taste it. I did. It was very bitter and smelt of fish. Then he kissed me goodnight on the lips very tenderly, and told me what a sweet girl I was, and how much he adored me. I went to sleep very happy and content that night, I remember.
Well, these things began to happen more and more frequently. Whenever mother was out, he used to suggest I go to bed early and sit on my bed in his pajamas and dressing gown. We would fondle each other's bodies and both get these nice sensations. I started to look forward to these nights. . . " she paused, then murmured in an undertone "I know just how wrong it was, but I'm going to miss it all now." She sighed unhappily.
"You'll soon be grown up and find a nice boy of your own," I comforted her. "Then you'll find these things even nicer. . . but tell me about last night," I pressed her.
"For some weeks now he's wanted to put his prick in my quim, but I've been scared and wouldn't let him. We'd been in bed with nothing on lots of times, and he'd poked it into the little entrance; but I'd told him it hurt and closed my legs tight together. He finally made me take it in my mouth instead. (She blushed attractively). He used to want me to suck it for him, while I rubbed my fingers up and down the skin. I didn't like doing this, but he used to bribe me with half-crowns for the pictures. But, last night, he was different. . . I can't describe it. He had a gleam in his eyes that frightened me; and he was literally, shaking with passion, when I rubbed him up a little. He forced my legs apart, bruising my thighs, and put one hand over my mouth, while the other guided his cock towards my hole. I tried to scream, but I was too frightened, and I felt the great thing pressing into my poor cunt. It hurt terribly, but he shoved and pushed till at last it forced it's way inside me. All my belly seemed to be bursting and my twat was being stretched beyond endurance.
I was sobbing bitterly and digging my nails into his bare flesh. But that only seemed to rouse him more. Inch by inch he shoved the thing up me. It still hurt, but I felt a certain amount of pleasure too, I must admit. I was becoming wet inside and it was going up easier once the big lump at the end was inside me. Then all of a sudden I felt the worst pain I have ever known. It seemed as though my whole inside was being torn. Sharp burning pains swept through my stomach and I groaned in agony. He pulled his prick back out an inch or so, and thought he was going to stop. But he lunged wildly up me again and something gave. After that it hurt less and less. I just felt raw and very sore inside. He was fucking me then, as he put it. I began to rather like that, and clasped my hands round his bottom. I began to get the same nice sensations he gave me when he rubbed my slit and I eventually got that lovely throbbing feeling. He still continued to work it up and down inside me till I felt it getting hotter and hotter. It started throbbing too. Suddenly he pulled it quickly out and crushed it between our stomachs, and I felt lovely hot cream gushing out over my belly and filling my navel. He wiped the blood and spunk off his prick and my body and kissed me, telling me not to be a silly girl and cry over nothing. He said I was quite old enough now, and it was high time I repaid him for all the money he'd spent on me. He made me promise not to tell anyone about it, and pushed a pound note into my hand for, as he put it, being a very good girl. I felt better but very exhausted, and dropped off to sleep. Then, as you know, he came in before he felt next morning and made me promise again to keep it a secret. It was only after he left that I saw all the blood on the sheets and got frightened."
I thought she had told her story very well and been quite frank about her own initial willingness to cooperate. I told her so and thanked her for giving me her confidence.
"Now Susan, if what you tell me is right, I think there is little fear of you being pregnant, however in a week's time perhaps you would come back for a complete check-up. You will be healed up then and not too sore to examine properly. So for now, we'll be content with seeing you're not too badly torn inside and that there is no fear of hemorrhage. So will you please take off all your clothes and lie on the settee."
Without a demur, the girl complied and started undressing. I lit up another fag, and leaned back in my swivel chair to watch her. She was a sweet kid, and any man would have found her attractive. She had on a cotton dress, blue and white, with white collar and cuffs, navy blue panties, white stockings with a blue border that reached up to just below her knees, a white bra and blue ribbon fastening back her hair. On one wrist she wore a cheap bracelet and from the pocket in her dress a imagine lace hanky protruded. She had a nice figure in proportion to her height, which I judged to be five foot two. Her stomach was flat and the butt well rounded. The breasts were small but shapely, and her legs slender and graceful. Boys were going to find her quite a heart-throb, I reflected.
She was stripping off apparently without concern, and didn't even trouble to turn away when she prepared to remove her underclothing. She actually smiled at me as she undid the straps of her bra and threw it nonchalantly on top of her dress. Her breasts were milk-white and the skin clear and smooth as a baby's bottom. Her little nipples, pink and pointed, seemed to stick out provocatively towards me. She tucked her fingers inside the top of her pants and slowly drew them down like someone unveiling a plaque of honor. First the deep navel then the fair bush hairs came into view. I was getting an erection and feeling very randy!
Blissfully ignorant of the devastating effect her strip-tease was having, she blatantly parted her legs and stooped to roll down her stockings, sticking out her butt as she did so. I could not of course see it directly, as she was facing me, but caught a glimpse of it in the mirror over the fireplace opposite. The cheeks were firm and well-molded, I was pleased to see.
"No, no, there is no need to remove your shoes and stockings," I called out, suddenly regaining my wits. "Just go over and lie on your back on the settee now, please." She moved off to comply with my request; and I took the opportunity, while her back was turned, to maneuver my stiff prick into a more comfortable position. I was conscious of the large swelling inside my trousers and hoped the girl would not notice it.
When she had settled herself, I washed my hands in the basin at the foot of the couch and prepared to handle those gorgeous private parts of her tender anatomy.
She opened her thighs without me asking, and watched me closely as I bent over to examine her. The inside of her thighs were indeed bruised and the area around her genitals was red and swollen, though nevertheless fascinating. Her bush was sparse and the hair short. Pink skin was visible under the small tuft Her cunt itself was as yet quite hairless, and between the light brown lips the dark of her vagina was just discernable. A little blood was oozing from her gasping quim as trickling slowly down between the cheeks of her butt.
I fetched a small wad of cotton wool and wiped her crack clean. "Is it tender to touch." asked her.
"No, not really outside," she murmured. "It's inside it's so sore." I got the impression the young minx was thoroughly enjoying exhibiting herself to me, and getting a kick out of it.
I smeared some vaseline along my digit finger and said:
"Now I'll try to hurt you as little as possible, and I'll be as gentle as I can. It won't take more than a second, so try not to worry too much."
I pushed it slowly in between the tight young muscles, and was surprised at the way they suddenly contracted and gripped my finger. "Now just relax as much as you can," I ordered. But she only gripped them tighter. Her eyes were closed and she started breathing faster. To my great surprise her thighs were twitching, and her hands pressed down on the settee either side of her. This took her weight, and she was able to raise her buttocks to wriggle her body. I couldn't believe my eyes! My young patient was actually masturbating herself on my finger!
I was speechless to remonstrate with her, and my own cock was throbbing wildly against my stomach. I hesitate to speak and then it was too late. I was actually finger fucking the girl! Her eyes opened and she smiled up at me. "Thanks, doctor," she gasped. "I'm sorry if I've shocked you, but undressing like that and feeling you touching my cunt has made me co sexy, I can't help myself. Your finger doesn't hurt like Harry's cock did. It's smaller I guess and I. . . oh!. . . please, please go on rubbing me, slowly. . . make it last ... it feels so wonderful."
I had committed myself and even if I had wanted (and I bloody well didn't) it would have been unwise not to have satisfied her. As it was I was only to keen to make her come and feel her sweet juices and pulsating spasms.
She was gazing at the lump in my trousers which was now only too obvious. "Doctor," she whispered. "You're feeling randy too, aren't you? May I toss you off ... please ... I promise I keep it a secret ... cross my heart."
Words failed me completely. She took my silence as a sign of acquiescence, and reached out shyly to squeeze the hard prick through my trousers. I moved nearer without thinking to enable her to extract my randy horn. She swiftly undid the buttons and sought the opening with eager hands. In five seconds flat she had not only my cock in her hand but my balls out and firmly cupped in the other. I was dazed with the speed things had got completely out of hand and too excited to care. I felt those lovely white hillocks on her chest with my free hand and allowed her to toss me off as she wanted. I was finger-fucking her harder and teasing her tits.
We were both perspiring and her bubs grew wet and sticky like her fanny was. She was handling my testicles roughly, but I didn't mind how much she hurt them. I was crazy with lust as I knew her to be.
Now she was drawing me closer towards her head. Her face was coming ever nearer to my throbbing erection. Her lips parted and sought the red shiny knob. I was past resisting. . . it was deep inside her warm mouth and her tongue was licking the sensitive skin at the sides.
She was sucking at me furiously with all the suction of a vacuum cleaner and kneading my balls mercilessly. Her free hand was frigging her own clitoris, and her thighs pressing up to meet my finger thrust. We were both panting and the end could not be delayed much longer. I held back as long as I could to be sure of satisfying Susan before my spunk half choked her.
With one little moan, I felt the sharp contractions inside her vagina and the warm wetness inside her passage. She spent profusely for a girl of that tender age. Seconds later I ejaculated into her mouth. She tried to hold her breath and not to swallow but the thick stream of sperm flowed in a seemingly endless jet, filling her mouth and overflowing down the sides of her cheeks. She had to swallow, and great quantities of thick cream slipped down her throat into the recesses of her stomach. "Ooooh!" she gasped as her mouth was once more empty except for my throbbing prick. "Ooooh! That was marvelous. . . was it marvelous for you too?"
"Yes, Susan, dear," I answered softly. "It was wonderful. I'm sorry I didn't manage to pull out in time."
"I didn't want you too," she whispered. "Yours doesn't taste a bit like father's did. I even managed to swallow of it. It is a heavenly feeling, isn't it?"
The fascinating thing about Susan was the fact that she was so completely unspoilt, unashamed of her natural impulses, so uninhibited that she was incapable of suppressing her desires once they were fully aroused. Yes, I thought, she was indeed an exceptional child. Her future was rosy, if she learned how to keep herself out of trouble; and she was going to satisfy herself and all her lovers for many years to come.
Her attitude was so free and easy, that, even when it was all over, I had no regrets or uneasiness. There would be no regrets on her part, I was confident, and I had nothing to fear from her. Perhaps it was as well, I kidded myself, it would help to lessen the danger of further trouble with Mr. Wright.
I helped her get dressed, and had Mrs. Dawson bring her in a cup of tea and biscuit before she left. She put her young arms round my neck and kissed me, before saying: "Thanks again, Doctor...thanks for everything .I'll be looking forward to coming again next week. Shall I ring and make an appointment?"
"Yes, perhaps that would be best," I replied. "Make it about the same time Thursday or Friday. Look forward to seeing you."
I gave her an affectionate hug, saw her to the door and she was gone.
I'd completely forgotten about my promise to have my housekeeper see her to the bus. But Susan was a girl who was quite old enough to take care of herself now, I reflected.
The next visit I put at the back of my mind temporarily, I did not dare contemplate what might happen. . . though I suppose what was to follow was already predestined to take place.
I washed, changed my clothes, had a quick meal and prepared to face evening surgery. It was going to be more tedious than ever this particular night, and I was dreading it.