Well and truly
deflowered, her virginity stripped, she'd moved on from girlhood to
womanhood. Gazing at her heaving breasts, taut, unblemished in
youth, Larry smiled. This was his role in life, he mused - waking
the dormant sexual desires of females, taking them to orgasm,
teaching girls how to pleasure their beautiful bodies. And there
were more girls to deflower, he reflected. The convent was brimming
with virgins!
"Enough!"
Jenny finally gasped. "Ah, ah! Beautiful! Heavenly! Stop now!"
Switching the vibrator off, Larry watched the girl pull her
cunt-wet fingers from her steaming sex duct. Her arms limp by her
sides, she straightened her trembling legs and relaxed in the
aftermath of her enforced sexual awakening. Cupping her breasts in
her bra and buttoning her school blouse, Larry grabbed her
navy-blue knickers and was about to pull them up her long legs when
he had an idea.
"I'll cleanse
your cunt," he said softly, parting her legs and leaning over her
curvaceous body. Sweeping his tongue up her inflamed girl crack, he
lapped up her pussy juice, stiffening her clitoris yet again. "Like
it?" he asked, opening her thighs further and slipping his tongue
into her youthful cunt.
"Mmm!" she
moaned through her nose, her face reddening as the sensations of
oral sex shook her body. "Mmm, lick me all over!"
His tongue
sweeping over her vulval flesh, her swollen cunt lips, her mound,
the creases of her thighs, Larry cleansed the shuddering girl,
lapping up his spunk and her creamy lubricant. Parting her fleshy
folds, he drove his tongue into her tight vagina again as she
gasped with delight.
"Larry!"
Brigit called, tapping softly on the door. "Larry, Monica's
back!"
"OK, OK!" he
replied, standing upright. "You'd better put these on, Jenny," he
smiled, passing the trembling girl her school knickers.
"I thought you
were going to give me another feeling!" she sighed disappointedly,
tugging her navy-blue knickers up her legs and concealing her
abused cuntal slit.
"You can come
and see me again, if you want to," he replied, straightening his
tie.
"Oh, yes,
please!" she beamed, slipping off the couch and straightening her
school uniform.
"OK, let's
go."
Leading the
staggering girl through reception, Larry flashed a smile at Monica
as he showed the flushed-face schoolgirl out of the building. "I'll
see you again," he whispered, patting her rounded bottom cheeks.
"Call in anytime." Returning to reception, he took a deep breath
and stood before Monica, winking at Brigit as she stood behind the
woman making odd facial expressions.
"Was that one
of the girls from The Sacred Bloodied Heart of Our Lady of the
Damned Convent?" Monica asked, her accusing eyes frowning.
"Yes, yes she
was from the bloody damned convent," Larry grinned.
"Why was her
face flushed?"
"It's hot in
my consulting room. It's a hot day, unlike yesterday, don't you
agree?"
"Yes, I
suppose it is. Why was her blouse buttoned up wrongly?"
"She..."
"Why was she
staggering all over the place? You didn't do anything to her, did
you?"
"Yes, as a
matter of fact, I did."
"Doctor
Lickman! After the episode in your torture chamber yesterday, I'd
have thought..."
"It's not a
torture chamber, Monica! Ask me what I did to the girl."
"What did you
do to her?"
"I talked to
her, that was all. You must stop jumping to the wrong
conclusions."
"You
fraternise with sex every day! All you ever think about is sex,
it's unhealthy!"
"I have to,
it's part of the job - it's my duty. Er... Brigit, where's Lily?"
Larry asked.
"Er... Lily?
She's... yes, she's still in the toilet."
"Still? Good
grief, she's been in there a long time!"
"She won't
come out."
"Why ever
not?" Monica snapped, turning to face Brigit. "Has she gone off
into one of her mental states again?"
"I... I don't
know. I banged on the door and she said something about a pink
snake with one eye chasing her."
"Oh, no!"
Larry sighed. "All right, you two carry on and I'll go and have a
word with her."
Walking
through the hall to the ladies' toilets, Larry tapped on the
cubical door. "Lily, Lily, are you all right?" he asked. "Open the
door!"
"Shan't!"
"Open the door
Lily!"
"Shan't!"
"Look, I can't
be doing with this sort of behaviour! Open the door this instant or
I'll call a psychiatrist and have you certified insane!"
"All right,"
she replied, sliding the bolt back.
Entering the
cubical, Larry frowned. "Lily, why are you naked?" he asked, eyeing
her vaginal slit peering through a bush of blonde pubic hair. "Why
are you standing on the toilet, naked?"
"I... I was
trying to get my foot up my pussy," she confessed. "And I was
fondling my breasts, trying to familiarize myself with them."
"I can
understand you fondling your breasts to acquaint yourself with
them, but why put your foot up your pussy?" Larry asked in
surprise, gazing at her cunny-wet toes.
"I... I don't
know. It's something I've done ever since I can remember. Do you
find it shocking?"
"No, not
shocking, Lily. But I do find it unusual."
Locking the
cubical door as he heard Monica bellowing at Brigit, Larry leaned
on the wall, gazing at the girl's inner lips protruding invitingly
between her full outer sex cushions, the sexual centre of her naked
body at eye-level. Trying to get her foot up her pussy? he
pondered, wondering what weird psychological problem lay behind her
peculiar act.
"Lily, have
you ever succeeded in getting your foot into your pussy?" he asked
her.
"Oh, yes!
Well, my toes, at least. I'm somewhat of a contortionist."
"Yes, as was
my mother."
"Oh, was
she?"
"Yes, but I
won't go into that now. What drives to do to do such a dreadful
thing?"
"I don't
know."
"Did your
mother have a difficult birth?"
"Yes,
apparently I took hours to come out."
"Ah, that
explains it!" Larry grinned triumphantly as he dreamed up a
psychological reason for her strange behaviour. "You see, you
didn't want to come out, and you're now trying to get back into the
womb, albeit your own womb. The condition is known as uterine
regression."
"Oh, I see!
What can I do about it, is there a cure? I wonder why I didn't want
to come out?"
"There might
be a cure, yes. I'll come to that in a minute. I would imagine the
reason that you didn't want to come out was because it was warm and
cosy in there. Was your mother warm during her pregnancy? When were
you born?"
"In May."
"Ah, so your
mother was pregnant throughout the winter months."
"Yes, and the
house was always very cold."
"That's it,
then! Now, the cure. Er... allow me to give you a quick internal
examination," he smiled, parting her succulent sex cushions. "Bend
your knees and open your legs for me."
Slipping three fingers deep into her vagina, he looked up at
her pretty face and smiled. "You have what we call in the
trade,
constrictum
cuntum
."
"What does
that mean?"
A tight cunt
. "Er... it means that
your vaginal duct is... Lily, I'm going to try to get my fist into
your vagina to check your
ductus vaginus
capacitum
."
"What's
that?"
How big your cunt is
. "Er... nothing
for you to concern yourself with."
Straightening
his fingers, Larry managed to push them into the girl's yielding
cunt, her swollen vaginal lips taut around his knuckles as he
gently opened her sex duct. Further, he drove his fingers into her
trembling body, managing to force half his hand into her hot cavern
to the accompaniment of her gasps. Bending her knees, lowering her
sexual centre, Lily grimaced as Larry clenched his fist, her labia
finally stretched tautly around his wrist.
"There, I've
done it!" Larry gasped excitedly, gazing at the girl's abused
vaginal lips gripping his wrist. "How does it feel?"
"God, it
feels... it feels great!"
Twisting his
fist, massaging her stretched inner flesh, he jumped as Monica
hammered on the door.
"Doctor
Lickman!" she called. "Is Lily all right? What are you doing?"
"Lily's fine!"
he replied, trying to pull his fist out of the girl's hot cunt.
"Lily, I can't get my hand out!" he whispered. "It's stuck!"
"What's
stuck?" Monica asked agitatedly.
"Nothing,
Monica. Go back to reception."
"Can't you
pull it out?" Lily asked, gazing down at her stretched labia.
"No, I can't!
I'm being sucked in. There's a vacuum."
"What shall we
do?"
"Monica!"
Larry called. "Go and get the enema syringe and a length of rubber
pipe!"
"What
for?"
"Er... there's
a problem with the plumbing!"
"Are you a
plumber?"
"No, no! Just
go and get me the..."
"Mr Ingram
Ravenhugh is on the phone. He wants to see you."
Fuck! "Er...
I'll be out in a minute. I'm giving Lily some therapy. Make an
appointment for him, Monica."
Taking his pen
from his jacket pocket, Larry unscrewed the top and pulled the
refill out. "I hope this works," he breathed, slipping the hollow
pen alongside his wrist into Lily's bloated cuntal sheath. The air
suddenly rushing in, he managed to slip his drenched fist out of
her cavern. "Done it!" he cried, watching the girl's swollen
vaginal lips close. "You'd better get dressed, Lily. And let's not
have any more of your nonsense!"
Jumping off
the toilet, Lily grabbed her clothes from the floor and hurriedly
dressed, apologising profusely as Larry slid the bolt back and
cautiously opened the door. "Lock the door behind me," he said,
grinning as the girl concealed her beautiful body. "I'll go to
reception and calm the old bat down."
Walking down
the hall, Larry stood at the counter and smiled at Monica. "Mr
Ingram Ravenhugh? What's he want, do you know?"
"He wants to
speak to you about income tax," she returned, frowning as she
focused on Larry's wet hand. "And national insurance
contributions."
"When's he
coming?"
"I've made an
appointment for this afternoon. By the way, the Reverend Mother
Barren-Womb rang. She's not at all happy, Doctor Lickman! She said
that Jenny returned to school drunk!"
"Drunk? Good
grief!"
"She's coming
to see you tomorrow. Most disgruntled, she was."
"Tomorrow,
right. Er... I'll be in my consulting room, I need a rest!"
Sitting at his desk, Larry swigged from the whisky bottle,
wondering how to explain Jenny's drunkenness to the old hag.
Jesus, I've never had a Reverend Mother before. I
wonder whether she fucks?
Gulping from the
bottle again, he sighed. "Unless I can convince her that the girl
wasn't drunk, she'll not send me any more little beauties!"
Oh well, might as well get
pissed
.
"Larry, why
are you slumped over your desk?" Brigit asked, shaking his
shoulder. "Have you been here all night? God, you're not drunk, are
you?"
"I was just...
oh, fuck, I seem to have finished off the scotch! Shit, I've been
drinking all night!"
"The Reverend
Mother Barren-Womb is here!"
"Fuck and
double fuck! Er... Jesus, my head!"
"Hide the
bottle and smarten yourself up. I'll show her in."
Dropping the
empty bottle into the desk drawer, Larry straightened his tie and
stood up. His head spinning, he leaned against the desk for support
as Brigit showed the behabited woman into the room. Her scowling
face framed by her crisp, white linen wimple, her arms folded, she
glared at Larry, asking why the room wreaked of whisky.
"Er... whisky?
I've just had the cleaner in, I think you'll find it's the special
malt polish she uses on my desk," he smiled, offering her a seat as
he stumbled around the desk and collapsed into his chair, his dark
hair dishevelled, cascading over his lined forehead. "Now, Reverend
Mother-Womb... Barren-Mother. What's all this nonsense about Jenny
being spunk... drunk?"
"Did you ply
her with whisky?" the woman growled as she seated herself.
My, you look like an old man
. "Sly her
with piss... good grief, no! Were you made in the image of
God?"
"What?"
"Man was made in the image of God, I just wondered in whose
image you were made."
A ghoul's?
"Don't try to
change the subject! The girl's blouse was incorrectly buttoned when
she came staggering back to the convent!"
"Her buttons
were incorrectly bloused? What do you mean?"
"Her blouse
had been interfered with!"
"I've never
heard of anyone interfering with a blouse. Is it some kind of new
and disgusting sexual fetish conceived by Catholic priests
to..."
"Don't be
ridiculous! I had cause to examine the child's clothing, and I
discovered that she'd been tampered with!"
Fucked, more like
. "Tampaxed...
tampered with? I don't understand. What do these terrible
allegations have to do with me, Reverend Brother? I don't see your
logic in connecting the girl's dishevelled attire with
me."
"I
interrogated her!"
"Do you
suspect her of being a spy? You're not a descendant of Philby, are
you?"
"What? What
are you talking about?"