When I returned the cups, the receptionist complimented me on
my outfit, saying how much nicer I looked with small titties and a cute crop
top than those big torpedo tits, and she lifted the lace edge onto my upper
chest to display my bound puffies. After stoking the little bumps for a while,
she asked me to bring her a drink from the water fountain, which was on the far
side of the waiting area, meaning I had to walk past everyone in the room with
my budding titties on show, since I’d not been given permission to pull my crop
top back down. Several people showed a definite interest in my display, one boy
of about thirteen years old turning to ask the lady he was with why my boobs
were so small, so I stopped and knelt to explain, the steel bar between my
pussy lips scratching as my hips rotated.
“The doctor wrapped them up to make them smaller,” I told
the boy, “as part of one of the tests she’s doing on me, and they’re really
squashed under here.” I pointed to the bandages wrapped round my chest, “My
real boobs have been all squished down till just these little buds are left
sticking out, and I have to stay like this till the doctor lets me out.” He
said they looked “real cute”, just like the ones his sister Jenny had, adding
that she was in with Doctor James getting seen to. The lady, his Mom, hushed
him, apologising to me for his boldness, but I assured her it was alright,
ruffling his hair as I told her it was lovely to be complimented by a young
man.
I continued with the task in hand, bringing the receptionist
her requested drink, and then had to tidy the magazines on the two waiting room
tables, which put me in close proximity to the people sitting there, providing
a very detailed view of my breast buds, and my bottom, which received a few
pats from the men behind me as I bent over the tables. When my little tasks for
the receptionist were complete, I was allowed to go back into the exam room to
continue my tests.
“Hello Katie,” greeted the doctor as I returned, “thank you
for helping out over there, you’ve done a very good job for us, how are you
feeling?”
“I’m alright, doctor, thank you,” I quietly replied,
lowering my eyes, “a little bit restricted in some places, but I’m sure I can manage
it.” I added quickly. “It’s more challenging than it usually is, and the bar in
my cunny is hurting a lot now, but I’m trying to be a brave girl.”
As Dr Forrest took some photos of my tiny bound breasts and
wasp waist for the file, she praised my efforts to be co-operative, “You’ve
done well in your tests so far, little pumpkin, and I’m really pleased with how
focused you’ve been today.” She leaned over and kissed my forehead gently, then
bent further to wrap her mouth around my breast bud, lapping it with her
tongue, sucking it deeper, and then sawing her teeth across the swollen puffie.
“I’m sorry to say, that
the next round of assessments will be much more stressful for you. It’s
essential to evaluate the pliability of your sexual areas using stretching investigations,
and at this stage of your progress in the research study we will be far more forceful
with your body. Ever since you were twelve years old, and I enrolled you on
this development study Katie, you’ve been my foremost participant, and have
given us some wonderful results, especially in the sub-groups you’ve been part
of. Out of the thousands of other girls across the country, you have been the
longest running virgin through personal choice, but it has meant that some of
the usual monitoring stages have been by-passed in order to preserve your
virginity. Since you recently decided to surrender your cherry to your Master
Mark, we now have access to a relatively unused pussy in a mature subject, and
lots of ground to catch up on.”
Dr Forrest and the nurse unfastened the crotch of my pale
blue satin corset, carefully taking out the spiked bar from between my pussy
lips, checking the damage, and declaring it to be merely superficial. The
relief as they loosened the corset laces was wonderful, my breathing returned
to normal, and I could feel my insides flow back to their regular position in
my poor tummy. The bandages round my chest still squeezed my titties nearly
flat, but the pressure was mild compared to the corset, and I loved the little
breast buds it fashioned because they reminded me of when I entered my teens.
I submissively presented myself when instructed by Dr
Forrest, feet apart, hands behind me, shoulders back, so that I thrust my tiny
boobs forward, their pointy nipples stroked by Nurse Sandra’s thumbs as the
doctor ran her fingers over my hairless pubic mound. Tremors of pleasure rippled through my tummy
at her touch, as she smiled sweetly at me and inquired, “How old do you feel
right now poppet, with your tiny buds and soft little slit?”
These childish terms of endearment triggered me to age
regress, as they always did, which she knew quite well from the early training
I’d undergone during the first few years under her care, just after we moved to
Florida. Every visit to the office would end up with me entirely naked,
sometimes as soon as I walked through the door, since she’d found out very early
how much I liked being undressed, and that I enjoyed pleasing people by doing
as I was told. Often I’d go along with Mom when she saw Dr Forrest, and I loved
being twinned with her, copying everything Mom did, and had done to her, even a
pelvic exam. Although I was much too small to take the doctor’s fingers inside
my pussy, she had a doll in a toy box whose hand could slip into me without too
much difficulty. She would have me pose as I was now, with lots of
encouragement when I positioned myself correctly, and the occasional slap
across my bottom when I didn’t pay attention.
I could just see myself like that now, so I answered her in
my quiet, little girl voice, “I’m just thirteen years old Miss.” The memories
of that particular visit came easily back to mind.
Smiling warmly, she ran
her fingers over my cheek, and used my key phrase, “And is Katie going to be a
good little teenager for me today?”
I stood up tall, my head raised, rather than lowered, in
reply to the question, saying proudly to her, “Of course, Miss, I’ll do
everything you tell me to, like an obedient little girl should.” This response signified
my acknowledgment, as it had before, that she had across-the-board control over
me during the rest of the time I was there.
While Nurse Sandra unfastened the bandages round my chest,
freeing my flat breasts so they could be stretched into the long thin cones
this test usually produced, Doctor Forrest showed me the new chest brace she
was going to use on me this time. Instead of the usual dark wood support frame,
this one was polished metal, with a diamond shaped lattice work base, the thin
edges pressing against my chest as the nurse tightened the straps behind my
back, whilst the doctor positioned it over each of my titties. First, a shelf was attached to the frame,
holding my breasts level, so they didn’t sag, and then Dr Forrest used a wooden
ruler to measure the baseline extension from the metal frame to the end of each
nipple logging the results in my notes.
There was a small change in length, due to my lactation Dr Forrest thought,
with the left side more developed this time, which wasn’t my norm, but again it
was attributed to a higher milk production in my left breast, and a more
extensive milking by the pump on my right.
Since the milestone exam when I was 21, Dr Forrest had
stopped performing my extension test manually, just stretching my nipples and
lips with her fingers, and had moved me up to mechanical means, starting with
spring clamps like my skirt hangers at home. The next year she’d tied rough
twine round my nipples and used vice grips on my pussy lips, and for my 23rd
it was medical haemostats, those clamps that look like thin scissors. Each time
I was stretched out that year, the doctor would squeeze them another notch
tighter till my nipples were crushed flat, and she managed to fit a dozen
clamps on my pussy, including my clitoris and hood, even getting one just
inside my pee hole, which really hurt.
This year, because I was more mature, she said, she produced
a small plastic tube, woven into diamond slits like one of those Chinese finger
puzzles in Mulan and StarTrek, slipped it over my nipple, then pulled the open
end, making it tighten down on the teat, and on the section of aureole it
covered. Using a loop attached to the other end, the doctor lifted the whole
weight of my breast upward as the tube gripped the end of my tit, while the
nurse fitted a post and bar structure to the base plate, and the loop was
hooked onto the end of a bar, keeping up the pressure. Another Chinese nipple
puzzle was fastened to my left breast, and that too stretched to match its
twin.
Dr Forrest checked that the extension was only minimal,
fitted a pair of trigger mechanisms onto the bars, then she and the nurse began
squeezing them in the same way you do on one of those adhesive guns with the
tubes fitted in them, pulling the bars, instead of pushing them. After three
squeezes each, the doctor checked how far my nipples had been pulled from my
body, and then they repeated the squeeze as the nipple puzzles gripped my teats
even harder lengthening them painfully. There were quite a few white stretch
marks appearing round my aureoles, radiating along the cones of my deformed
titties, and the chequered base was now digging into my pectoral muscles as the
pressure transferred there.
With the steady pressure still applied to my breasts, Doctor
Forrest turned her attention to my cunny, having me sit in an ob/gyn chair,
with my knees up beside my shoulders, spreading the whole of my pussy open to
her view. Sitting down on that little wheeled stool she has, the doctor scooted
between my legs, peeling open my outer lips to get at the damp pink groove
hidden beneath. Knowing how much I enjoyed being exposed and mauled about, she
spent a few minutes just stretching my labia in different directions, then
scrunching them up in her hands and twisting them savagely. I moaned with
passion at each tug and squeeze, tensing the muscles in my legs, which earned
me a slap on the inside of each thigh, and an admonition to sit still, followed
by three hard swats on my pubic mound because my slit was dripping.
“Dirty.” SLAP. “Little.” SLAP. “Girl,” SLAP.
Dr Forrest took a small silver fish from the nurse,
squeezing its tail to demonstrate that it was in fact a clamp, more decorative
than the skirt hanger ones she’d used before, but this one had teeth lining its
mouth, although the points had been filed off to reduce any damage. When she
clipped it onto my inner labia it still had a painful bite, which took a few
moments to settle, by this time the doctor had clipped a second fish on my
other small lip, then one on my more substantial outer petal, and a matching
fish on the opposite side. These clamps were towards the bottom of my slit, and
another set of four were positioned further up, just below the level of my
clitoris so that the full of area of my inner and outer labia could be
stretched out. Nurse Sandra brought over a square plastic box with a couple of
dozen shiny metal teardrop shaped weights, each with a hook at the top to
attach to the clamps, but first Doctor Forrest wanted to fit bow springs to the
clamps. These looked heavier than I remembered, definitely stronger than the
ones I had at home, with a much more pronounced hook on the end of each leg
that the doctor fitted to both the lower, outer clamps, folding it in half to
hook it on, then slowly letting it spread open.
It wasn’t only the bow that spread, it took my fat petals
with it, pulling open the bottom of my girl cleft so wide I could feel my
vaginal entrance flower open as well, while the labia grew longer and thinner.
The top bow was fitted to the outer clamps, folded in the same way, and it
pulled open the rest of my slit when it was released, exposing the complete
pink inner flesh of my pussy to the cool breeze of the air-conditioning. Two
more bow springs were now put on my small petals to stretch them out as well,
but they were made of lighter material, so didn’t pull me open with the
severity the others would have done, though they still exerted a strong
extension on these more delicate parts of my tender cunny.
“Sandra,” called Dr Forrest, “come over here and see what’s
peeking out of our naughty girl, now that all those folds are peeled back out
of the way. Isn’t that the cutest little love button in there, all pink and
throbbing, still trying to hide under its hood?” Nurse Sandra suggested that my
clitoral hood should be pulled back out of the way, like my sex lips had, then
they’d be able to see the full length of my shaft. Dr Forrest brought a pair of
horns from one of her cabinets, tapered and curved like a rhinoceros horn,
pointed at one end, widening out over its two inch length to a half inch
diameter. She inserted the small point through my vertical hood piercing from
the underside, then fitted a half inch diameter jump ring through the small
hole drilled through the end of the horn, stopping it from slipping back out.
The second horn fitted into my navel piercing from the top, along with its jump
ring, then a clasp was attached onto each ring, and finally six ordinary office
rubber bands were looped together to join the two ends with a stretchy strap.
Gradually my clitoral hood was stretched upward, exposing
the length of unattached shaft that Dr Forrest had been working to free for the
past few years, and my piercing was slowly enlarged as the tapered horn was
pulled further through the small hole. With my clitoris now fully revealed, the
doctor compressed another Chinese puzzle, smaller than the ones on my nipples,
pushed it along the shaft, right down to the base, and then gently pulled it
outward to tighten the sleeve’s grip. A hook was slipped through the end of the
puzzle, fastened to a thin elasticated strap, which in turn clipped onto the
centre of the two bow clamps on my smaller labia, and a second strap from the
hook to the bow clamps on my outer petals. With my clit now stretching out from
my girl cleft, Dr Forrest had me close my thighs together, which put pressure
on the bow clamps, closing my lower lips, but pushing the middle of the bow
further out, and pulling harder on my clitoris. By placing one knee over the
other, the bow clamps were twisted, pulling my lips in opposite directions, and
dragging my stretched clitoris every which way, tightening the tube’s grip on
my shaft.
Satisfied that I was now set up correctly, Dr Forrest
ordered me to stand up, with my feet at shoulder width apart, and attached a
long tubular weight to each of the clamps on my labia, each one much heavier
than I usually wore during this test, and really extending my petals. With four
of them dangling between my legs, I had to walk towards the mirror, as each
step set the weights in motion, stressing different areas of my intimate flesh
as they swung about, but also creating a musical note each time they struck
together, making me sound like a wind chime in the garden. When I stood in
front of the doctor again she tightened up the pull bars on my breasts, pulling
my nipples further out, indicating to Nurse Sandra the stress lines that were
beginning to form in the skin of my titties. A few more squeezes to stretch the
teats out some more, and the white lines were clearly visible, though not the
ache as my skin felt like it was going to be ripped apart.
The level of extension in my breasts and pussy was measured
again, recorded in my notes, and I was instructed to walk over to the mirror,
turn, and come back, then repeat this three more times so that the swinging
weights would stretch my labia more effectively. After the second promenade the
tether in my clit hood was tightened, stretching the piece of skin even
further, as well as pulling the tapered horn a little further through my
piercing, which was in agony already, but the doctor ignored my complaints,
saying it was all part of the test. When my walks were completed, Nurse Sandra
changed my pussy weights, adding a shorter tube to the existing ones by
mounting each set on a balance beam attached to the clamps, which now meant
they all swung about at the slightest movement of my hips. Of course, a few spanks
on my bottom with the paddle Dr Forrest was holding ensured my hips thrust
forward more than I would have liked, while Nurse Sandra helped me pull my hips
back with a few well-placed swats of her strap across my pussy mound. Three or
four extra squeezes to my breast bars had my nipples keeping pace with the
amount of stretch being applied to my pussy, till after half an hour, they
decided I’d reached my limit for this visit, although they did suggest a
mid-year visit might be fun.
Final measurements were taken, and the doctor was very
pleased with my progress, and also my cooperation in helping them achieve the
biggest increase I’d had in the project so far. The removal of all those
devices was quite a relief, but having the two ladies massage all my well
stretched flash back into shape was a lot more painful than the steady
stretching had been. It didn’t stop me having an orgasm though, when Dr Forrest
stroked my clit as if it was a tiny cock she was jerking off. That too was
recorded in my notes.
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