Mia giggled in obvious embarrassment.

“Must be all the pain killers my mother gave me. Max says there is a theory that girl farts are stinkier than boy ones.”

“Ouod erat demonstrandum.”

“Isn’t that Latin?”

“Clever girl. Before I started in the por ... mhm film business I actually wanted to become a medical doctor, so I took Latin in school. It’s the phrase you say, when you do an experiment and it means something like ‘And here is the proof’.

Jenny and Mia grinned at each other, while Jenny positioned the clamp tight against the skin between inner and outer lips. Rtch, rtch, rtch and it was closed way beyond the comfort zone trapping all the superfluous flesh.

Mia sighed still grinning: “Byebye clitty, just some minutes and I’ll have a beautiful pussy like Bella. Uh it really tingles now. Can I see yours Jenny, while we wait?”

++++++++++++

Here they were, laughing at me, leaning towards each other on that posh Louis XV couch, which Michelle had insisted on buying and which I still thought a total waste of money, while I tried to produce something resembling their likeness with my meagre sketches.

“Don’t you think a photo would be easier, Daddy?”

Laurence’s practical nature never stopped to astonish me, after all I was more the fine arts kind of guy and the round about way of literature was, where I truly felt at home, but then …

“Well, darling, even if it’s still not much better then your brother’s scribblings, your beauty and my love for you two could never be captured by the plastic perfection of a digital print.”

“With scribblings you mean his attempts at writing I assume. They look more like drawings anyway.”

Although she loved her ten year old brother to bits, Laurence easily reached exasperation at Josh’s lack and interest in perfection of form, something I understood only too well, but then …

“Just wait till this little bundle of joy bobs out! No expression of creativity will escape your undivided attention and approval.”

This brought another round of giggles from my two ladies, whose silky cocktail dresses matched in ways only women could fathom, with Michelle’s dark violet one contrasting her daughter’s olive above knee concoction in just the right kind of representation of age and beauty. Looking at these two leggy golden skinned paragons of loveliness, both brown blondish with short straight and long curly hair respectively, radiating the kind of properness which combines the gravitas of family duty with a hint of mischievousness, had me hard and squirming, not really able to concentrate on my drawing. It might have had something to do with remembering the delicate treasures hidden under these beautiful dresses: bald, just two jutting little bulges of unblemished skin, with a hint of an empty slit in between, one line of pink slightly damp flesh waiting to be opened and filled, always eager to receive and swallow, with no hindrance of further meaty protrusions and no expectations of orgasmic convulsions. It might have had something to do with the fact that we were waiting for George to bring the car around for driving us to our favourite restaurant to celebrate Laurence’s pregnancy … with my baby.

She was standing there gnawing at her lower lip, like she did as a little girl, when something was bothering her.

“What is it, bumpkin?”

Quite the wrong connotation for the slender twenty year old college graduate in computer science, just recently engaged and a head turner in every respect.

“I will go through with it, Daddy. Mommy explained everything and I will have the little snip and carry your baby. So I hope that’s ok and you won’t be mad with her because it’s really what I want.”

To say that I was flummoxed is a mighty understatement, terraced would be more appropriate. So when Michelle came in, I was still trying to pick up my jaw from the floor and was regarding the pile of books I had let tumble to the ottoman carpet, over which I so liked to trip, when crossing the entrance hall still in my thoughts about a particular question that one of my more advanced students had thrown at me. So she had an easy task at sitting me down at the next couch. She sat on my lap, like in the old days, when we were students and still hoped to escape our parents’ responsibilities. Thoughtfully she stroked my beard.

“You still remember when I was done?”

“Like yesterday.”

I had cried my eyes out, when she explained to me that she had decided to have her clit cut because she couldn’t cope anymore with all these constant cravings and the never stopping delirious effect our love making had on her. We knew each other for three months and she had decided right from the start that I was the one and now this? I never would have thought that this Goddess actually had any interest in me and when I was introduced to her, I was convinced that I would bore her to death and send her fleeing into an early evening with my literary theories. But we ended up discussing Proust till dawn, when she dragged me to the side entrance of a voluptuous palace right at the edge of Lake Geneva and basically raped me. For the first time I understood the power of female sexuality and the ferocious hunger women felt, when finally awaken. And now this would end?

“You were holding my hand and it felt like I would break your fingers and you mine.”

“And I still don’t know what was worse: the blood, your screams or the shame I felt about the enormous hard on, which the destruction of your pussy induced in me.”

She smiled in her usual white teethed, ironic way.

“Makes me wet just thinking about it … and what we did later.”

I was spooning her as she was crying herself to sleep, when she suddenly wiggled her bum at me and rubbed herself at my stone hard erection, sighed and whispered: ‘Put it in my ass like you always wanted.’ My protests were sincere, but short-lived. ‘Can’t hurt more than it does already.’ Ten minutes later I was fully lodged in her behind and, when she started moving her ass with little mewling noises, I couldn’t hold back anymore and I fucked her with all the youthful enthusiasm I could muster, while she shrieked into the pillow, finally going limb on me as I was spurting into her rectum.

“La petite mort.”

I should have known that something was fishy, when the operation was performed right there in her parents’ mansion by the old family midwife with a mixture of glee and disdain.

“You lied to me.”

She looked shocked and sad and apologetic at the same time.

“I might have omitted that there was a second reason to have it done: Family tradition. The first child always belongs to the father of the bride and to make sure that these couplings are purely per functional and not an expression of incestuous desire the females in our family are modified before this event. The jumping of one generational line increases the chances of hereditary perfection as one of our ancestors once calculated.”

She sounded like an official spokeswoman for something intrinsically illogical, but her eyes brimmed with tears.

“I wasn’t sure you would have understood and I didn’t want to loose you.”

That whispered confession sounded more like Michelle and I kissed her tears away till she smiled and hugged me like on that morning twenty years ago, when she couldn’t stop kissing and embracing me and thanking me for having opened her ass.

“Your daughter’s cutting is making you horny.”

She rubbed me through my trousers.

“Better still get some of my power drink, before the young lady drains you empty.”

I wasn’t allowed to join them in the KliniK and thus I was quite surprised to find them coming back laughing and Laurie jumping at me and hugging me like the little girl she just recently still was.

“It didn’t hurt at all. Well, first when the clamp came on there was this burning, which really had me screaming, but it also was kind of sexy and then … Sally said an anaesthetic injection would have been worse than just the clamp … And I tell you, when my clitty came off … Crazy, thousand light bulbs … Mommy, when can Daddy and I …”

Laurence was behaving like a twelve year old just before a boy band concert, but I didn’t complain about this regression, even her pouting, when Michelle told her that she had to wait at least for one week, was endearing and enticing at the same time.

“Sally?”

“The nurse at the KliniK … and she told me, how busy she is, as everyone nowadays is opting for a clean pussy. Look, she only sprayed it with the healing version of Liquid Skin and the swelling is already going down.”

And what a sight to behold: The empty slit was crowned by a raw looking area on top and two red lines left and right, but otherwise there was a clear view into her youthful vagina, open and wet with her pee hole winking at me in a mock salute.

“Mommy, I think we have to help Daddy, look at his bulge. Can I at least suck him?”

One week later I had the pleasure of sinking my turgid member into Laurence’s steaming pussy and although she winced now and then, she bravely fucked me back. Afterwards she lay sweating on my chest, looking up at me smiling.

“Now I understand Mom. Always on the edge is so much more fun, it’s like dancing on the rim of a volcano, but you never risk falling in. Can we go another round? And how does that work with the ass fucking? Mom says, sometimes it’s like an orgasm, only different?”

“What about Bob?”

“What about him? He doesn’t know … like you didn’t know. And he’s not so into sex anyway. Two blow jobs a week and he’s happy. He didn’t even see that my pussy has changed, but you know, how he is: when he’s into one of his bridge building projects he doesn’t recognise anything around him. That’s why I love him so much; he can be so enthusiastic of his ideas.”

And one month later that’s where we are: Laurence pregnant and we celebrate our final night together with Michelle joining us to send Laurence off into motherhood. I look forward to compare their two pussies. I had to promise them to pay particular attention to their scars as licking these little ridges always reminds them how they lost their clits and that makes them especially horny.

++++++++++++

“Joe, did you see the lady, which came in with this teddy bear?

“For her daughter?”

“No, she took it into the operating room, and when I had finished with her, she asked for the same scalpel I had used on her …”

“Clamp without A?”

“Clamp yeah, but she insisted on full anesthetic. Anyway she takes the scalpel and cuts some hair in the teddy’s crotch. And I say, ‘You forgot the anesthetic’. And she goes, ‘Na, she hasn’t earned it, she shall suffer’. Can you imagine?”

“Well Christina, you certainly have a talent for ending up with the crazy ones.”