Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. TITLE: Everything's Under Control. TAGS: Abnormal breast growth (induced), huge breasts, vulgar language, slut, bimbo, incest (mother/daughter), mind control (?), medical, extreme labial piercings, lesbian, pedophilia, strap-on, drugs (minimal). SYNOPSIS: An angry mother and her young daughter are visiting their family physician. The doctor has been treating the girl for a rare disease that, apparently, has caused abnormal and extreme growth in her breasts and buttocks. The mother blames the doctor for much of the progress of this `disease' and is harshly critical of his strange methods of treating it. The doctor is unrepentant, and `manages' the irate mother to a point where she becomes more receptive to her daughter's condition and fate - and through that recognition, her own. NN NN OOOOOO TTTTTTTT IIIIIII CCCCCC EEEEEEEE NNN NN OO OO TT II CC CC EE NN NN NN OO OO TT II CC EE NN NN NN OO OO TT II CC EEEEE NN NN NN OO OO TT II CC EE NN NNN OO OO TT II CC CC EE NN NN OOOOOO TT IIIIIIII CCCCCC EEEEEEEE DON'T LET YOUR KIDS SEE THIS! These stories have all been written with a very adult audience in mind. They all have a very heavy sexual content and will contain combinations of themes. If you are likely to be offended by any of the things mentioned above, you should not read beyond this point, but immediately navigate away from this page. The act of writing does not mean that the author is in any way engaged in or complicit with acts of the nature described herein. The act of writing (or even reading) about deviance, perversion and degradation can be a liberating and strangely cathartic experience, but some ostensibly sexual behaviours are always going to be wrong. I cannot tell you which, or why. You have to make those determinations for yourself. Please scroll down from this point to read the story... Everything's under control. "Ah yes, Mrs. Fitzright, Good morning. Come in, come in. Oh, and your delightful daughter too. Agnes, isn't it? Now, who's the patient today?" As the younger woman entered the doctor's consultation room, the man's eyes opened wide with amazement, and then he licked his lips, a little nervously. The teenager was apparently supporting a simply enormous, distended stomach that appeared to project over the waistband of whatever skirt she was wearing and hung hugely in front of her, almost to her thighs. She was obviously having difficulty walking, and was leaning backwards awkwardly to counterbalance the weight and clutching at the material of a sack-like garment that had obviously been made to contain the grossly distended belly. It looked like a cross between some kind of pullover and an enormous brassiere. In contrast, the young girl's chest seemed almost flat above, which contrasted sharply, the doctor thought, with the mother's extremely large breasts. These were bouncing and jiggling within the confines of a black spandex mini dress, the top of which was stretched thin by the sheer size of woman's heavy swingers, above a surprisingly slim waist and full hips. The beautiful symmetry of her shapely legs was clad in very sheer, black stockings and the risqué outfit (for a woman of her age) was completed with black court shoes with a three-inch heel. The woman's anger seemed to be primarily responsible for the delicious movement in her torpedo tits. "Well, that should be obvious to anyone with eyes in their head. It's Agnes, of course. Look at my daughter, doctor. Look at her! She can hardly walk, we're a laughing stock in the neighborhood, and nothing you have been prescribing has done anything about her condition other than to make her feel and look worse." "Please calm down, dear lady, and sit over here. Agnes, you should sit in this chair. It will be easier to examine you." As Agnes smiled shyly at the physician through a curtain of waist length hair that she had combed to cover as much of her face as possible, the girl turned and partially revealed another startling aspect of her physiognomy. She had an absolutely enormous bubble butt; a simply huge pair of globular buttocks that flared impossibly from a tiny waist and then tapered equally unbelievably into thick thighs and then perfectly normal knees and calves. She was wearing a skirt, about 6 to 8 inches deep from waistband to hem, that merely bisected these globes in the horizontal plane, while a deep cleavage between her ass cheeks bisected them in the vertical plane. It was an ass that a burlesque stripper would kill for, and it graced the otherwise slim and lissome figure of a young girl. The skirt was so short that both the undercurve of her ass and the shelf that the taper into the base of her spine made were completely bare to view: a `ghetto' booty in a bar girl's skirt. "Ah yes, I see that you have been following my instructions about the skirt to the letter. Good girl. No panties at all, I hope." The doctor took the momentary opportunity to put his hand into the cleft between the girl's cheeks and prise them apart so that he could glimpse the pink rosebud of her anus. There was the glint of silver lower down, and a gentle ringing sound, like wind chimes. She started slightly, but then leaned forwards with a hand on the arm of the examination chair to give herself support as her disproportionate centre of gravity shifted, and allowed the globes of her enormous ass to relax slightly, permitting a closer inspection. The girl cleared her throat, but her mother got there first, almost shouting now and clearly outraged. "Of course she's not wearing any panties. She won't because you told her not to, doctor. The only undergarment she'll ever wear these days is one of those outrageous thongs that stretch so thin and tight that she might as well have nothing on at all, and today, she is completely naked under that ridiculous skirt because you told her that she should be letting her developing womanhood `breathe'. Of all the things to tell a child." "Well, Mrs. Fitzright, the girl doesn't look to be at all uncomfortable, and that nasty tendency to develop rashes has undoubtedly been cured, hasn't it Agnes?" He smiled down at Agnes as she turned and sat in the examination chair, noticing how the hugely protruding belly completely filled the space between the arms and hid that tiny waist and bubble butt again. The shy teen smiled back between the curtains of blond hair and nodded her head. Doctor Magnus noticed that her lips seemed even more bee-stung than the last time he'd examined her. "Everything looks to be under control, Mrs. Fitzright. I'll get nurse Plimpton in to monitor the examination." The irascible mother was not to be brushed off so easily, "Doctor Magnus, I'm not sure that any kind of examination is necessary. Everything you have done; every kind of treatment you have attempted, every kind of medicine, injection and behavioural practice you have prescribed, seems to have had precisely the opposite effect that you promised. Only a week ago, you told us that the course of Botox injections that you'd ordered for Agnes' lips should be undertaken immediately, and that it would help her "...avoid developing `pinched' laughter lines too quickly," whatever they are. Now, my daughter looks like she sucks co... ah... well, ahem. Well, she looks like a prostitute that does... things to... for, ahem, men for..." "Do mean `cock-sucking', mother?" the girl said, in a soft but clear voice. "Yes... No! I don't mean... that is to say. Oh well, you know what I mean, Magnus. And she will insist on wearing that particular brand and colour of glossy lipstick that you pronounced would allow her lips to heal faster than prescription medications. Not that they seemed much affected anyway. I mean, look at the girl, doctor! My daughter looks like a common street walker." "Yes, Mrs. Fitzright, I am looking, and all I see is an unusually beautiful young girl." The doctor and the young woman exchanged knowing glances again. It was the mother who was talking about her as if she wasn't there. Mrs. Fitzright made a noise that sounded like `Harrumphh'. Agnes smiled at her physician angelically, "Do you think I have cock-sucking lips, Doctor Magnus?" A little clearing cough, "Well, my dear, whatever they're good for, they look beautiful and healthy. Not like those pathetic little thin lips that you have been suffering with for so long." "So long, Magnus? So long? The girl is only sixteen years old... And she shouldn't even know what cock... what that kind of thing is all about. She's too young. Sixteen!" There was almost a sob in the voice as she gulped to a stop. "Exactly, Mrs. Fitzright, and for at least the last six of those years the poor girl has been suffering in the clutches of a terrible disease; one which I think I can safely say we now have on the retreat. Gigantometamammaria is a terribly blighting thing, and very rare, but I think you must agree that your daughter has never looked or felt healthier and happier, have you, Agnes?" another shy nod. "And it's Doctor Magnus, Mrs. Fitzright. I am a physician and a widely acknowledged expert in the treatment of this illness. You might do well to remember that." The woman appeared to have been checked by this stern rebuke, and even by the acquiescence of her own daughter to everything the doctor was saying about her. Unable to imagine that the girl was actually happy to be experiencing her ghastly condition meant that she was either saintly, or perpetrating a complete subterfuge to cover her own suffering. As the doctor reached for the intercom to call the buxom nurse into the examination room, she watched her daughter sit back into the chair, fiddling with the mechanisms on its arms to allow them to fold down on either side. `She's done this so many times now,' was the thought that fleeted through her still seething mind, but she still moved forwards to assist her child in preparing for the doctor's examination. As nurse Plimpton tottered in on white patent stilettos with heels like chromed spikes that would not have looked out of place on one of Mrs. Fitzright's `street walkers', Doctor Magnus stood back to let the girl's mother begin undoing the hook-and-eye fastenings on the front of the strange lacy garment. Standing between the doctor and her daughter, she began at the neck and worked down, and then gave the girl an odd instruction, "Alright, Agnes, you'll have to support their weight now. Good girl." The doctor had been unashamedly admiring the mother's large buttocks, stretching the spandex and pulling the hem of the dress at the back into a high arch. The thicker material of the selvage at the tops of her seamed stockings were being pulled upwards by tightened garter straps that he couldn't see, but he glanced at nurse Plimpton's face and saw that she was looking too. They exchanged a conspiratorial smirk. Then Mrs. Fitzright finished and stepped back. The sight of the half naked teenager made the nurse gasp, the doctor's eyes widen in mild and momentary shock, and the mother exclaim, "There, Doctor Magnus, that's the result of your treatment..." It hadn't been the girl's stomach that appeared horribly distended; it was her huge, pendulous breasts. As Agnes looked up at the three adults to gauge their reaction, she removed her hands from their effort to support the weight of her own breasts and let them sag into an unencumbered position. Each gargantuan tit slowly rolled off the girl's thighs and hung to the left and right of her legs, which she was holding closely together, a dark vee of pubic hair framed between the inner curves of her thighs and the thin band of the skirt. Finally freed from the constraints of the humongous bra, for that was what the garment she'd worn to the clinic actually was, the huge nipples began to swell: perhaps `inflate' might have been a better word, ending up hanging like large bratwurst on either hand. They looked like fat brown cucumbers, or thickly turgid penises, reaching about two and a half inches in diameter and five inches in length. Somewhat to the contrary, the girl's areola started as dark rings at the immediate base of the nipples, but then faded rapidly into the curvature of the breast itself without any distinct outer boundary at all. But it was the sheer size of the girl's massive swingers that was so hard to believe. Her shoulders and upper torso seemed perfectly normal for a slim girl of her age, and the roots of her incredible tits seemed to be formed in the usual place on her upper ribcage, but below that, the `stems' seemed to elongate and thicken; flattening, without bulging away from the body until they got much lower. Her cleavage began above the breastbone as an inverted U-shape, and then broadened almost immediately, ending up as a gap between the inner surfaces of the breasts that must have been almost 18 inches across as the tits flowed to the sides and over the outer curves of her not inconsiderable thighs. The breasts themselves were beachball sized, and probably weighed twenty five to thirty pounds apiece. Their extraordinary size was straining the `stem's of the tits into creases. Heavy blue and red veins writhed and knotted beneath the taut skin of these giant udders, and as they looked on, the rapt attentions of the three onlookers bought a pink flush to the huge orbs. "Magnificent," was the doctor's eventual comment. "Magnificent, Doctor Magnus? Magnificent? Is that all you have to say? The girl is positively deformed. There is nothing for it but to go for radical breast reduction surgery. We should have done it years ago," she was beginning to `bustle' now, becoming frantic. "Things are so much worse now. Jeezus, Magnus, Agnes can barely stand upright. Her nipples reach to her thighs. Maybe we can save..." "Mrs. Fitzright, would you please calm down. Let us all discuss the current situation like reasoning adults - and involve the patient in those discussions too. You seem to treat your own daughter as some sort of third party to her own illness, madam. Nurse, prepare me a shot of the Magnign 40, and perhaps we should be ready to follow up with 7.5 milligrams of the blue `Acquiescent'. Mrs. Fitzright, you are clearly overwrought, and I think that you would be well advised to take a light sedative. After all, you are also my patient, too." "Is that what you gave mother last time, Doctor Magnus?" "Yes child, we must understand your mother's concerns, but consider all our options carefully." "I'm not taking anything," she was shaking her head now from side to side, clearly perturbed, but now on her own account. "The last time you gave me a `calming shot' I completely lost three or four hours, Magnus. I don't want it and I don't need it." "Patience, Mrs. Fitzright, I am the doctor here. Thank you nurse." Taking the hypodermic from the silver platter that nurse Plimpton offered him, the doctor quickly and professionally plucked up a swab and the distraught mother found herself offering him her arm, almost robotically, even pulling at the shoulder of the spandex cap sleeve to help. "There, I think that you'll start feeling better almost immediately. Just sit over there and calm down, Mrs. Fitzright, while I conduct a thorough examination. Nurse Plimpton, please help the good lady." As the nurse took the mother/s arm and directed her already unsteady steps towards a second chair, Doctor Magnus trod on a pedal under the base of Agnes's examination chair and it began to rise slowly. He then grasped the base of the nipple on the breast nearest him in one hand and put his other hand under the massive globe, lifting it up and slightly away from the girl's thigh. He was handling the boob with something approaching awe. "These are wonderful, Agnes. I'd estimate that one third of your body weight must be in your sagging titties now. Stand up for me a moment. Please? I want to see how low they hang." The girl pulled herself forwards on the chair and then swung her legs towards the side where the doctor was still taking the weight of her huge right mammary. She reached a hand towards him for support, and then stood. Her breasts hung, still swinging, with the tips of the nipples reaching to approximately mid-thigh and the round of the breast resting on her upper-thighs. "Spectacular. Agnes, I am certain that you now have the longest, lowest hanging, heaviest beachball titties on the planet. They are totally amazing. You, my dear, are totally amazing. A canvas upon which we have painted the ultimate woman." The girl pushed her shoulders back, made proud by what her doctor was telling her, but still shy and embarrassed at having achieved something that both she and he had only dreamed about. She began to turn her shoulders from side to side, the movement transferring to her tits. Conscious of the act, she slowly increased the twisting in her shoulders. Her massive tits were swinging through two feet on either side of her legs now. "Do you really think so, Doctor Magnus? Do you like Agnes's monster titties?" There was a whimper from the woman in the other chair. She was slumped into it, staring at the doctor standing admiring her almost naked daughter, her shapely legs splayed wide and her stocking tops, garters and the crotch of her red satin panties in plain sight. As Doctor Magnus turned his attentions to her for a moment, nurse Plimpton said, "Open wide, Mrs. Fitzright, you have to take these tablets now. Good girl... a drink of water? Excellent." Having dutifully swallowed her medication, and without taking her eyes off the pair, she began to move her mouth in hesitant little jerks. She was obviously trying to form words, but they came out like the gargling of a drunk. The doctor said, "Don't worry Mrs. Fitzright. Just sit back, relax, and let the medicine do its work. You are feeling much calmer now, are you not? There, I thought so." He turned his attentions back to the daughter, moving closer, stroking his hands across the stretched stems of the gargantuan titties above her breastbone, relishing the lines, folds and creases that the enormous stress of carrying the weight of the breasts was causing to form in them, and then passing his palms under the flattened stems to feel where they met the musculature of the ribcage. "Have you had any more problems with rashes under here?" Doctor and patient were so close together now that he could feel her breath on his cheek as she replied, "No doctor, not since I started the new exercises. I put the vitamin E cream on every morning and evening too. Do they feel nice, Doctor Magnus?" "Yes, my child, they feel wonderful. I see that the exercises are keeping your waist down. What is your waist measurement now, without the corsets?" "It's about 26 inches, doctor. I can still get down to 22, easily. Mom got one last week, but she's not wearing it today. She looks great when she's tightlaced too, but she's never going to have tits like mine, is she, doctor?" "No, Agnes, you are way out in front on that score now. Well," he chuckled at his own joke, "...maybe `way down in front' might be a better description." The girl laughed too, the vibration travelling all the way from her ribs, through the meat of her sagging mammaries and into the erectile sausages of her nipples. "You can discontinue the use of the stretching devices that you've been using on your tit-stems now. I think that enough is enough. They'll get bigger and the sag increase naturally over time, now." With both hands, he encircled the flattened tube of meat on one side, six inches or so below the girl's breastbone, and squeezed, drawing his thumbs together to tighten the tourniquet and, at the same time, lifting upwards to take the weight of the titty wrecking ball that now swung beneath. The girl squeaked minutely, and then again as he lowered the ball again and the strain came back on her breast ligaments. "Yes, dear girl, truly amazing development. I am in awe, as I'm sure your mother would be if she could see sense. Maybe we can help her by getting her to share in some of your experiences. Do you think we should be helping your mother to be a little more understanding?" "Ooooh yes please, Doctor Magnus. I read in one of my magazines that most of the problems with parent-child communication comes from a lack of ability to empathise with the changes that are taking place in their child's body. I think that mum might be a bit jealous of some of the things that have happened to me, too." "I'm sure," the doctor agreed. "Talking about changes, how about the labia; any problems there? Tell you what, slip the skirt off, sit on the end of the examination chair and let me examine your vagina." Obediently, the girl unzipped the tiny skirt, wriggled her hips a little as she hooked her thumbs into the waistband and pushed, let it slide down her legs to fall in a ring on the floor around her ankles and then resumed her position on the examination chair, but this time, using her hands to hold her huge tits on top of her thighs and prevent them flopping once more to either side of her legs. When she was comfortable, she shuffled forwards a little and then spread her knees and ankles wide, allowing the breasts to remain supported by the tops of her legs. Both the doctor and the nurse bent forwards for a closer view, but it was the man who took a knee in each hand and encouraged the young tit-queen to force her legs even further apart. "Ah yes, the treatment seems to be progressing well." He stood with the culmination of this statement, but the nurse continued to gaze, wide-eyed, at the heavy rings dragging the girl's labia into grossly distended curtains of flesh on either side of her pussy. There were eight, quarter inch gauge, silver rings of about one inch in diameter in the outer labia on either side with ball closures, and four even thicker gauge rings pierced through the inner labia at the front, on either side of the clitoral arc. Half-ounce beads had been added to each of these. The clitoral hood had been decorated with a series of tiny studs, and yet another large ring passed through the base of her large penis-like clitoris, with a pearl-ended barbell piercing the shaft horizontally just behind the head. These decorations prevented the clitoris from withdrawing behind the folds of the hood and ensured that it was being permanently stimulated through contact with the base ring, the swinging labial rings, the flesh of the girl's inner thighs and any underwear that might be worn. "Agnes, my dear. I think that it's time to complete your labial modification and the vaginal `treatment' in one fell swoop, as it were. I'd like you to go back to Marcy's and have flesh tubes inserted into the piercings in the inner labia. I've already picked out some large diameter ones, in black with tiny inlaid hearts. I know you'll just love them. She'll thread rings through these, of course, but I want you to have much bigger and heavier ball-closures. I'd also say that it's time for a bell. Would you like a little bell hanging from the end of your clitoris, Agnes?" "Everyone would know that I had a pierced pussy then, wouldn't they, Doctor? I mean, they'd hear the ringing, coming from my clitty, and they'd just know I'm a little girl tit-slut, wouldn't they, Doctor?" There was a distraught moan from the other chair that punctuated the daughter's words like a full stop. The man in question bent to peer at the glistening silver jewelry again, ducking his head through a cloud of strong, musky odour as he did so. "Well, I'd say that everyone who knows you probably thinks that already, don't you dear? I think that the bell would be a worthy culmination, wouldn't you agree, nurse?" Nurse Plimpton suddenly began to feel inadequate. She had always been in awe of the physical changes that the girl had been undergoing, but had never felt tempted to follow that radical pathway to becoming the same kind of total whore-slut titty-cow that the doctor had persuaded the girl to take. However, the extent and effect of the `decoration' of the patient's pussy were overwhelming to her in a different way, not least because they were an addition that any girl might make to her own body without the modifications being obvious to others: not unless she wanted them to be, of course. She had already been secretly using one of the personal pump sets that the doctor had stocked in the storeroom of the clinic's small surgery, just like the model that had been given to the girl, rotating between each of the three attachments: the pussy pump, the clitoral pump, and the nipple tubes - and gradually working her way upwards through the available sizes. She knew that her erect clitoris might be even bigger than the girl's, at five inches long, and that she was able to maintain an erection in it that generated amazing multiple orgasms. It was these cataclysmic sessions that she knew she was getting addicted to. She hadn't needed a man in some time, she reflected, but without regret. `Now,' she thought, `I can take the next step. I want cunt-lips like those. I want my pussy to have wrinkly, tan-coloured meat curtains. God, they look so nasty. I want panties full of cunt-rings and a clitty-cock that is permanently hard. God, I'm getting wet. My pussy is juicing like I'm pissing... Oh my god, look at that fucking slutty whore's hardware... Jeezus, I can feel it running down my legs. I don't want those tits and that slut-ass, but I'm going to have a nastier cunt than her. Oh fuck, there's cunt-slime running out of the titty-slut's pussy.' "Ah, excuse me doctor, I have to go to the bathroom," Nurse Plimpton excused herself. I'll be back in a minute or two. I just need to... ah..." "Of course, Plimpton, carry on. We don't want you having an accident on the floor, now do we?" His soft laugh was cut short as he looked at the floor between her stilettos, "Ah, already too late, I see." As he watched, two large beads of thick fluid fell from somewhere under her white pleated mini-skirt and joined the small puddle there, "And make sure you get that cleaned up on your return, please." With a hand in her crotch, Nurse Plimpton hurried from the room, passing the mother who was now blinking owlishly at the tableau. The doctor addressed her again. "Mrs. Fitzright, how are you feeling now, calmer, slightly easier in your mind? The voice that issued from the woman's slackened lips was softer and more measured, but surprisingly clear. Without moving from her still spread-eagled, semi-reclined position, she enunciated every word with great care. "Yes, Doctor Magnus, I feel fine now," she cleared her throat, "I worry about my daughter. Now, she has the body of a woman from a pornographic cartoon. She must have an operation... get rid of those ridiculous breasts... get liposuction or something on that huge ass. You've got to help her get a normal figure back. Stop all this treatment that just makes things worse. You have to help her, doctor. Help my daughter to get well." "And would you say that she seems unwell now? Does Agnes seem to you to be particularly unhappy? Look at her, Mrs. Fitzright. Does your daughter seem particularly sick at this time?" While the doctor was saying this, the sixteen year-old pornographic cartoon titty queen moved to stand next to her mother and smiled down into the woman's troubled frown. "I'm fine mother; really. I love my body now. I was anorexic before, and like the doctor told you, I had all sorts of problems with my glands and stuff. Now look at me. I have the biggest titties in the world. Doctor Magnus said so. I have a forty-eight inch ass, bigger than anyone else in the school. Everybody... well, all the men who see me, want me. They want to fuck me, mother. Nobody ever wanted me before." Agnes lifted one of her enormous breasts and hefted it into her mother's lap, then took up her mother's hand and wrapped the fingers around the turgid shaft of the nipple. "Her mother watched this as if it were happening somewhere in the distance, until the moment of contact with her daughter's mutated teat. Spontaneously, almost mechanically, she began to squeeze and rub it Perhaps, in her mind, it was as if she were milking a cow, or masturbating her runaway husband. She remembered doing that, once, but his cock had been much smaller than this one. Her grip got a little firmer, and the teat responded by lengthening and hardening. "You see, Mrs. Fitzright, Your daughter has a wonderful body now: the body that all women fantasize about having, and men dream about possessing; in the sexual way I mean. She is a medical marvel, and in my considered opinion, any interference with the natural course of development now would have the direst consequences for Agnes, both physical and mental... In fact, Mrs. Fitzright, I would like you to increase the frequency of your visits. I also want you to undergo some of my more experimental tissue regeneration and modification procedures yourself, so that you can fully appreciate the rigors that your daughter has gone through." The woman looked up, into the compelling eyes of her physician, "But I'm not sick. I don't have the Giganto-thing. My body is... fine." "Well, that's true, but there are always things about our own bodies that we would like to change. Besides, you have an almost identical genetic matrix, which probably means that you have the same, deep-seated desires as well. These breasts of yours, for example... how big did you say they were?" The words came slowly, "I'm a 38 double E, doctor. My former husband always complained that they were too big." "Yet another indication of the man's stupidity and lack of appreciation for true beauty." The doctor reached down and cupped the woman's ample tits in his hands, compressing them to lengthen her cleavage, then allowing them to separate again. She made no complaint, merely relinquishing her daughter's nipple and letting her arms fall to her sides to allow him full access. "The dress is getting in the way. Agnes, help your mother to take off her dress." "Doctor Magnus," it was the mother again, "Is this absolutely necessary?" Her daughter answered, "Oh yes, mommy, the doctor wants to examine your titties," and as she dragged the garment over her mother's head, she asked, "Do you want me to take mom's bra off too, doctor?" "No, dear, we'll let your mother take that off herself. Please, Mrs. Fitzright? There now, and Agnes is right, your tits are lovely. A little on the small side, and situated much too tight and high on your chest, but we can take care of that, can't we girl?" The daughter nodded, grinning as the doctor had took the woman's thick nipples between finger and thumb and began pulling, pinching and twisting them. Apart from an occasional soft moan, the woman did nothing to impede him; just watched as he groped and mauled her mammaries. "Look at me, Mrs. Fitzright, that's right, look into my eyes, right here. Surely you must agree that these breasts and nipples are very much on the small side, mere boobs, really. And if they had been bigger, would have begun to sag by now. Why, you might even have developed a nice pair of stretched titty-stems like your daughter, eh? A nice big pair of floppy, swinging udders looks so much more attractive on a woman of your years and shape, don't they? I'd like you to stand for a moment. Agnes, please help your mother again." Using her daughter's arm for support, the woman rose unsteadily from the chair, the full curves of her luscious body accented, rather than covered, by the garter belt, panties and sheer stockings that she still wore. Her stilettos clicked on the tiles. "Agnes, please kneel in front of your mother and remove her panties, would you?" "Of course, Doctor Magnus." As she complied and peeled off the red satin, tugging gently when the gusset stuck momentarily in the cameltoe of her slit, the proud mound of her mother's shaven crotch was revealed and there was the slightest of `shushing' sounds as the panties slid down the woman's hose and bunched around her spiked heels. The girl leaned in, her nose almost touching the arched fold above the clitoral bump, and drew a deep breath in through her nostrils. As she did so, the sausage nipples on her own massive tits dragged across the floor. "Does mummy smell nice, Agnes?" "Yes, doctor, she smells yummy; like black syrup" "Excellent, now you know how this works, right girl? I want to see how large your mother's clitoris is and how far it projects beyond the fold, and then suck her labia out to their full length too. Use your tongue and your teeth, I don't want you using your fingers on such an overly sensitive area." The older woman seemed suddenly to garner some sense of what was happening, and her hands moved, almost involuntarily, to either side of her daughter's head. She was a fraction of an instant too slow, and she realised she was holding the girl with the tip of her tongue already beginning to probe into the delicate arch of her sex. "Doctor, you want my daughter to suck my pussy? But... she's my daughter... this is wrong... Agnes, you shouldn't be... ooooh... Ooooh stop... zzztttopp... Oh there...," the mental collapse was immediate, "Oooh there. Suck mommy's clitty, Agnes. Suck mommy's hard little clitty-cock. Oh yes, baby. Oh darling, suck meeeee..." Agnes found that she didn't need to push against her mother's cradling hands anymore. Instead, her mother had both hands on the back of her head, entwined in her hair and she was thrusting her cunt into the girl's face as if fucking her mouth: which, in a sense, she was. Agnes' clitoris had already been almost three inches in length when the doctor had started his `treatment' at age ten. Now, the girl was finding out that she was part of a strong genetic heritage: all the females in her lineage possessed very long and thick clits, and her mother was no exception. Indeed, she was pounding almost four inches of clit meat into the girl's mouth like a proudly erect penis. The otherwise conservative and refined woman then shocked Doctor Magnus with her suddenly gutter-mouth. "Oooh yes, Ooooh yes... Oooh yes... oh fuck, eat mommy's clitty, you fucking tit-slut. I'm going to cum in your dirty mouth. Oooh, momma's going to cum, Aggie. Oooh, look doc', I'm fucking my slut daughter in her cunty face. Ooooh, too long: momma's wanted this for too long," and then, with a scream that shocked the nurse as she reentered the consultation room, "Eat this, you fucking filthy whore..." and the mother rammed her jerking clit-cock into her daughter's willing face and held it deep in the sucking embrace of that hot, incestuously slurping mouth. Mrs. Fitzright jerked her thighs in the throes of an intense orgasm, dragging on her daughter's hair and arching her back to grind her pubic mound into the face of the struggling girl. As her climax slowly subsided, the continued suction of Agnes' mouth became too sensitive, and she pulled her daughter's head away from her quivering finger of delight: prompting both the doctor and the boggle-eyed nurse to exclaim in surprise. The woman's clitoris was still erect and pulsing, and all of four inches in length, tapering from a girth the thickness of a man's thumb at the base towards a distinct mushroom head. The two reacted in different ways. The nurse gave up trying to maintain any sense of decorum and fell to her knees behind the panting legs of the woman, her hands going straight back into her crotch, where they had been for the whole of the bathroom break, only this time she wrenched down her tiny t-thong panties, buried one hand in her cunt with the little finger poking into her urethra, while the other started working fingers through the brown ring into her ass. Meanwhile, Doctor Magnus exclaimed, "Oh, that's the perfect clitoris upon which to start. Mrs. Fitzright, I think we can promise you the kind of development that will put you in the huge-cock league, never mind the biggest clitoris. Agnes, your mother will definitely surpass even you." "But she'll never have titties like mine, will she doctor. You promised. You said mine are the biggest, longest tits in the world, didn't you?" "No, dear, your mother will never have cow udders like you, no one will; now suck out your mother's labia. Go on... That's a good girl, perfect. Oh yes. Mrs. Fitzright, you have a really thick and meaty pair of labia, and the inner frontal lips are very elastic. Look at the way your daughter can suck them into prominence, oh my... I trust you will have no problem with a little bit of genital modification as a necessary part of your own treatment programme, will you? I'd like to call Marcy and make you an appointment for piercing and the insertion of stretchers as soon as possible. You can go together." Mrs. Fitzright was looking down between the melons of her own breasts and watching her young daughter sucking rapturously at the folds of her vaginal cleft, when she suddenly looked up and told the doctor, wonderingly, "I've not had a climax like that in ten years, doctor, and it was all because my little girl sucked out my pussy..." "It's not a `pussy', Mrs. Fitzright. We went through the language part last week. Yours is called a cunt, or a fuck-hole, or maybe even a cum pit; but it's never going to be a vagina, or a pussy, or a snatch ever again, and why...?" The woman looked down fondly at her little girl again as she squatted lower, pulled her mother's legs towards her so that she straddled the girl's head, and then butted her face deep into the cleft between the woman's legs and began to suck and gulp in earnest. Slowly, a new realisation began to dawn in her eyes, and she looked back at the man with growing understanding. "I know why... it's because I'm a slut, doctor. We're both sluts, aren't we, Agnes and I...? We have bodies like this so that men can use them for sex... well... men, or women, I suppose. Oh, and animals too. Anything really... I guess. And we should have slutty bodies to match and use slut-language so that everybody knows what we are..." "That's right, Mrs. Fitzright. It took you a while, but I knew you'd get there eventually. Now, what do you think we should do to make your body take on the perfect image of a slut?" "Well, I guess I should have disgustingly huge and floppy breasts... I'm sorry, doctor, I meant tits, or udders like Agnes's. Maybe you'd want to remove some of my ribs, and reduce my waist to nothing with tight corsets? I know that you want me to have rings in my cunt like my daughter, and maybe tattoos, and cock-sucking lips... but I think that it's not what I want... not what a slut wants that counts. It's what her creator wants, isn't it, doctor? If I accept that I'm a slut... if I accept the fact that my mind is a filthy pool of perverted desires, then I should just put myself... we... ourselves in your hands and whatever you choose for Agnes and I is what will happen." There was a moan from nurse Plimpton on the floor behind her. "Indeed, Mrs. Fitzright, but there is no going back. I mean, look at your daughter. She will never regain the body or the mind of a mere boring, normal girl. If you allow the slut that certainly resides within you to dominate, then I do not believe that you will be able to go back to normalcy either. I will not pretend otherwise, Mrs. Fitzright, I want you to choose to put yourself entirely in my hands and I will make you the dirtiest slut imaginable." He noticed that the woman's eyes were beginning to blur and tears were silvering the rounds of her cheeks, even as her breath got throaty again with her daughter continuing to slurp at her fuck-hole. Mrs. Fitzright reached round behind her and pulled the head of the nurse into the cleft of her buttocks, "Help my daughter suck me off, nurse Plimpton, you dirty cunt. That's right; get your mouth around my asshole and suck. Taste my mud, baby. Push those turds around with your tongue," and after four minutes more of surprising filth, "Oh no... Momma's going to cum again, Agnes; mommy's going to squirt piss in your mouth now. Here it comes, my delicious little slut. Drink my cum-piss, baby. Mommy's going to be a nasty slut too-ooooh... doctor!" Her voice rose into a scream of licentious delight, the ululations rising in scale with the intensity of her second tumultuous orgasm. Doctor Magnus looked on in obvious enjoyment as his formerly snobbish patient debased and humiliated herself, descending into uncontrollable lust, gyrating and grinding her cunt onto the face of her own daughter. "Oh yes, Mrs. Fitzright. You belong to me now. And by the time I'm finished modifying your voluptuous body, everything with a cock will want to fuck you and everything with a mouth will want to suck you." Agnes came up for air, her face and hair dripping with her mother's cunt-slime and the involuntary squirts of urine that she had been unable to swallow, so fast had they jetted out of the older woman's urethra. "Is mommy going to be a slut now, Doctor Magnus? Will she become a sex-toy, like me?" "Well yes, Agnes, she will. Now, you will both have to move into my special facilities in the country. After all, your lives have changed forever now. But first, there is one last little test that the two of you will have to undergo. Nurse, try and get a grip for a moment or two and get me the intermediate petal-poppers, would you please? It's time we inducted our little girl into the slut `hall of fame'." "Petal-poppers, Doctor Magnus? I haven't heard of those before. What're they for?" The older man actually began to chuckle. "You would probably call them dildoes, my dear. As we have made every effort to preserve your essential virginity until the time was ripe, and as your beautiful mother has so completely given herself into my care, I am going to ensure that you lose that virginity now. In other words, the three of us are going to deflower you. Understand, girl?" He chuckled gleefully again. Nurse Plimpton was back, carrying two enormous strap-on phalluses The girl nodded, smiling as she got to her feet and stood together with her panting mother, watching the gallant nurse strap the cunt harness around her mother's waist and then adjust the crotch and thigh straps to ensure a snug fit. Agnes noticed that the black rubber penis bobbed and vibrated, and that her mother grasped it halfway up the twelve-inch long shaft to steady it as nurse Plimpton tightened everything again, just to be sure. The straps were now cutting into the flesh of her mother's thighs and biting deep into her dripping crotch. "You should get it properly lubed up, you know?" nurse Plimpton cautioned, handing over a large tub of Vaseline, "Don't want to tear her." and then, strapping the twin of the cock that appeared to pulse in front of the slut-mother around her own waist, she added, with a leering smile, "I know you're just going to love this." Doctor Magnus was organising things in a very professional fashion as he finished applying more lubricant to the youthful titty-slut's cunt and around her asshole. "I think that we should give your mother the honour, don't you, dear girl?" and then, not waiting for a reply, "Lie down on the couch, please, Mrs. Fitzright, good... now, Agnes, straddle your mother and you may just work the tip of the cock into your virginal little cum-dump. No more than that, excellent. My, my, your jewellery looks amazing, stretched around that fuck-stick. Now, nurse Plimpton, work the head of your popper into the slut's filthy asshole, just like that, yes." "It's hurting me, doctor," the girl seemed to sob. "I know, Agnes. But you've been getting ready for this for the longest time. Don't be scared, my little slut. Just push back on the head gently, and relax the same way you would if you were going to the toilet. That's right, perfect. Now, patience Plimpton," he ordered. With this, the doctor hurriedly unfastened his belt, unclipped and unzipped his trousers and let them fall to the floor. A cock of medium length, but massive girth, immediately sprang to attention like a Neanderthal's club and Doctor Magnus positioned himself at the head of the couch, his cock jumping next to the older woman's cheek, and pulling the daughter's head towards him so that the apple-sized purple bell of the head lined up with her mouth. A fringe of grey pubic hair frizzed around the coke-can base, and the mother leaned closer and buried her nose in it, breathing inwards deeply. "Now, Mrs. Fitzright, when I say, I want you to pull Agnes slowly down the shaft of your cock, but not so fast that Plimpton's disengages. I want you to make it slow, but irresistible. When she screams, don't even pause. Plimpton, you'll fuck that monster into her asshole at the same time. No one stops until the slut is full of cock in every hole. Everyone ready?" There was a momentary cessation of the panting that had gotten steadily louder in the room. A strand of drool was hanging from the nurse's lower lip, and the mother's arms were beginning to vibrate with the strain of holding her daughter in position over her tensile column of rubber. She was seconds away from stripping her own daughter of her virginity, and the thought inflamed her senses like acid. Meantime, Nurse Plimpton's gaze was fastened on the girl's anal ring, stretched rubber-band thin around the head of the phallus that she was going to plunge into her virgin shithole; always aware of the tinkling of the rings in her cunt curtains as they shook with excitement. Agnes had never been as sensitive to sensation as she felt at that unforgettable moment: a fragment of being suspended in time, with the smell of a fat cock in her nostrils and her mother trembling in anticipation of fucking her... She watched a bead of pre-cum pearl in the eye of the doctor's cock and licked her lips. At the moment that he announced, "Now!" she caught her mother's stare, her face set in a tight mask of determination, grinning with an almost evil intent, and then she felt her mom pull strongly down on her capacious hips, even as she thrust upwards with the dildo. Simultaneously, her bowels were being invaded with savage glee by Nurse Plimpton, who's lust to share in the girl's utter debasement increased with every millimeter of the strap-on that she rammed into the filthy slut's shit-pipe. There was no pause as the huge dongs opened her; her mother's meeting, forcing into, and then ripping asunder Agnes-slut's last vestige of a life mutated. As she screamed, the bobbing cock was pumped into her open mouth, forcing her jaws apart, flattening her tongue and punching into the back of her throat like a piston. With a satisfied and self-indulgent smile at the culmination of so much of his work, Doctor Magnus listened to Agnes-slut begin to choke on his fat prick and watched the slut-mother and the bimbo begin to increase the tempo of their assault and ravage the girl's tight and sucking sex. `Yes, this is what corrective surgery is all about," he thought, "The slut is always there. One just has to clear their vision so that they can see themselves. Now, I wonder if I'll fill her with spend before I let her have another breath?" Sometime later, when the vicious pounding of the slut's holes had reached its naturally cataclysmic end and the young girl had passed out, slumping on the tiled floor, Nurse Plimpton moved up to kneel on the couch, her strap-on bobbing and proinking in front of her, and fill her own dripping cunt with the mother's glistening cock, "You do me first, slut, then I'll fuck this stinking dong into your dirty cunt, Mommy. It's covered in your own daughter's shit. Yum, yum." With eyes that were glazed, the once-proud woman now being used turned her head towards the doctor and seemed to be about to ask for permission, but her mind had been treading a different pathway. "Will we have to lie with animals, doctor? Will you breed my daughter to a dog with a big drippy cock?" she said, with a grunt as the Bimbo bottomed out on her rubber fuck-stick. "I am enlightened to find that you have been thinking about such things, my dear," he said, as he pulled his trousers back on, "...And I'm sure that can be arranged at some point in time... of course, an interesting divertissement." He grinned broadly, "You must tell me all your deepest and darkest desires, sweet lady. We have time to plumb them all... all the time in the world. Everything is under control, now. Everything is under control." THE END C DR O. 2011