“Oh, what’s wrong, honey?” asked Connie, concerned with Mercy’s unexpected outburst. Connie reached out to touch Mercy’s hand, forgetting momentarily that they were both nearly naked in the otherwise deserted locker room.
“I wouldn’t know “how it is” because I’ve never had a man’s cum in my pussy,” Mercy sobbed. “I want to know, but…”
“Oh, sweetie, you’re just being responsible,” Connie comforted her. “I guess you always ALWAYS make them use a rubber, which is what you should do. It’s what I should do too, I know. But I’m such a slut I just can’t resist it, sometimes. I should think with my head instead of my cunt, really I should.”
“NOOOOoooooo….” Mercy howled. “I’ve never…with a rubber…or without….”
Connie gathered her into her arms comfortingly. “There, there, now…you mean, you’ve never…uh, never been fucked at all?” Mercy nodded against Connie’s shoulder, still shuddering with sobs. “Maybe you really prefer girls?” Mercy shook her head vehemently. “I love guys! I love to suck their big cocks, and I always let them come in my mouth if they want to. And I so want them to fuck me, but they won’t….” Her sobs intensified, and Connie rocked her in her arms.
“Maybe you should try eating pussy, just to make sure,” Connie suggested hopefully. And before Mercy knew exactly what had happened she found herself with her head buried between Connie’s slick thighs as Connie reclined on the cold locker room bench. Mercy really did not want to lick Connie’s sweaty pussy, but Connie had been so nice, and she was right there already….Gingerly Mercy extended her tongue and traced it along Connie’s drooling slit. The mixture of male and female cum was delicious, and Mercy began to lap at it like a kitten with a saucer of cream. Connie sighed and spread her legs further, allowing a fresh wad of cum to leak out of her cunt. Mercy lapped it up eagerly and pushed her tongue into Connie’s slippery hole as far as she could. She then substituted a finger, pushing it easily into Connie’s hot tunnel as she suckled gently on her clit. Before Connie came explosively, smearing Mercy’s pretty face with second-hand spunk, Mercy had thoroughly explored Connie’s pussy with two fingers and was considering trying to work in a third as well.
“It doesn’t get any better than that,” Connie gasped, giggling. “Now lie back and let me do you.”
It didn’t take Connie long to discover Mercy’s problem. “Honey, you have a miniature pussy,” Connie told her as she gently worked a slender finger into Mercy’s hole. “You’re going to have to either find a guy with a miniature dick or get some kind of surgery to open this thing up.”
“Surgery!” Mercy squeaked, sitting up in surprise and dislodging Connie’s probing finger. “I don’t want some guy with a knife to…”
“Oh, it’s no big deal,” Connie told her. “In the old days the little rich bitches used to get a doctor to pop their cherries surgically so they didn’t have to deal with a bloody mess on their wedding nights.” Connie glanced at her watch and hurriedly began to dress. “Sorry, but I’m late for a dinner date, gotta run, maybe we can get together sometime…?” And she was out the door before Mercy got her thoughts together enough to realize that, once again, she had been dumped because of her tiny pussy. Back in her apartment, Mercy began despondently surfing the web, looking for some kind of “virgin surgeon.” She really didn’t know where to start, and had no luck until she stumbled on a web site labeled “Hymen Busters Inc.” Her hopes rose as she read the brief listing, which appeared to offer a service called “termination of virginity” and suggested that she present herself for examination and assessment at an office downtown. With shaking hand she copied the address carefully onto a slip of paper. She would check this out. Absolutely. It was time to take positive steps.
The very next morning Mercy was standing in front of the listed address, which turned out to be a small, shabby office building in a rather dilapidated section of town. Mustering her courage, she entered the lobby and took the elevator to the third floor. Room 312…there it was. With pounding heart, Mercy pulled the unmarked door open. A lone receptionist sat behind a battered desk in a grimy waiting room. She had a telephone clamped between her shoulder and head and was filing her fingernails as she talked.
“Sign these,” she whispered around the phone. “He’ll be right with you.”
Mercy took the stack of papers and signed her name in several places without really reading them. One paper said “Release and Waiver” and appeared to be some legal thing. She assumed that it was a standard medical release form, and was grateful that she hadn’t had to explain her embarrassing situation to the clearly unconcerned receptionist.
As Mercy handed the paperwork back to the still talking receptionist, a man in a white lab coat entered through a back door and smiled at her. “Come with me and we’ll get started,” he told her. “Change into this hospital gown while we get the range.”
“Get the range?” Mercy wondered as she undressed. “What on earth…” But the man, (doctor?) was now talking into a cell phone and was paying no attention to her.
His conversation finished, the Doctor told Mercy to lie down on the exam table and put her feet in the stirrups. He knelt between her spread legs and peered at her furry pussy. “Sweet!” he breathed. This seemed a bit unprofessional to Mercy, but she was too nervous to complain. The Doctor gently spread the folds of Mercy’s pussy, and examined her tiny entrance hole.
“Did she check your ID?” he asked sternly.
Mercy shook her head miserably. Was she going to be rejected again?
“That lazy bitch!” the doctor muttered. “You got ID then? With you?”
“Yes,” Mercy stammered. “My license is in my purse there.”
The man rose to his feet and rummaged in Mercy’s purse. Finding her driver’s license he examined it carefully. “You’re really 19?” he grumbled. “Coulda fooled me. But the license looks legal. Make sure that stupid whore gets a photocopy before you leave, OK?”
The Doctor took a shiny instrument from a wall cabinet and returned to his kneeling position between Mercy’s thighs. “We’ll just get a close-up shot here, then,” he remarked as he patted Mercy’s pussy. “We want a good tight shot when it’s this pretty, don’t we?” Mercy, already uneasy about this whole peculiar affair, nearly panicked.
“You mean you’re taking pictures?” she squeaked. “Is that, uh, usual?”
“Just for your medical records,” the Doctor smirked. “Federal regulations, you know.”
Before Mercy could object further, he again spread her pussy lips with one hand and gently pushed the cold metal instrument against Mercy’s entrance. She shivered as it slid into her. When he had it in place he fiddled with a knob that seemed to expand the device, opening Mercy’s tight pussy a little more with each turn. She tried to look down between her breasts to see what he was doing, but could see nothing.
“Oh ho, you want to see too, don’t you?” The Doctor chuckled. “Well you’re in luck, because we have the technology.” He reached up and pulled down a video screen so that Mercy could see it. There on the screen before Mercy’s eyes was the image of her own little cunny, with a metal thing sticking out of it. Somehow the Doctor zoomed in even closer, and she could see how she was being opened up. The Doctor adjusted the knob even more, and Mercy began to feel an uncomfortably cold draft invading her body.
“And there’s that sweet little maidenhead, all intact,” the Doctor breathed as the picture zoomed in to focus on her hymen. He gently prodded it with his forefinger and Mercy flinched at his touch. When he touched her there it was almost like an electric shock. “Now we’ll just open you up a little more, OK? Not too much. We don’t want to break that thing now, do we?”
Mercy was completely bewildered. “I came here to get it broken!” she exclaimed.
“Of course you did, dear, but not just yet, OK? First we’re going to stretch you out just a little more. Relax now…that’s right. Good. See, I can put my finger right in there now. But you want to be able to take more than a finger, don’t you. Of course you do.”
After tweaking the knob a few more turns, the Doctor rose to his feet again, and, to Mercy’s horror, dropped his white pants to reveal a very hard, thick cock. “We’ll just check the size now,” he murmured soothingly as he guided himself toward her expanded hole.
The door from the waiting area burst open and the receptionist leaned in. She had an excellent view of Mercy’s exposed pussy but didn’t waste a second glance. “I think there’s been a mistake,” she whined.
The Doctor turned to face her, still holding his rigid cock in one hand. “Dammit, Julie, how many times have I told you not to come in here when the red light is on? Now get the hell out.”
Julie rolled her eyes theatrically. “I’m trying to tell you, that actress you scheduled for this morning just got here. She was late, and I just thought this other one was her, but obviously she’s not, and anyway, I don’t recall the script calling for you to fuck her.”
The Doctor ground his teeth in frustration. “I’ll have to try to work that other bitch in later. I’ve already got 15 minutes of really good footage on this one and I’m going to continue with her. SO GET OUT!”
As the Doctor turned back toward her, Mercy noticed that his cock had begun to wilt. Just her luck. He shook it once or twice, cursing, and tucked it back into his pants. “Alright, cut then. We’ll have to go with what we got, and if someone doesn’t remind me to fire that stupid bitch TODAY I’m going to fire all of you!”
Mercy was too confused to think. Who was he talking to? There was no one else in the room that she could see. Then the Doctor was talking again, apparently to her.
“We’ll shoot the dance sequences next. Just a few short ones to set the mood. So pick a nice demure prom dress out of that closet. Then we’ll go right into the motel scene.” Gently he removed his instrument from her pussy. He left the room and Mercy could hear muffled shouting as he apparently berated the hapless receptionist. Mercy sorted through the dresses in the closet and chose a pure white ball gown which displayed her small breasts to perfection. She was brushing her hair when he came back.
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