“She took off her panties and I asked her to put them on again and she refused.”

Isabella knew better than to press the point. To contemplate that her boyfriend, who worked for social services like herself, might have had sex with an underage client, thus not only destroying their relationship but also his and probably her career, was too much to ask, even if her boyfriend’s face, that means mine, had guilt written all over it. So she turned around to finish cutting the guavas for her favourite Goiabada.

“How did she look?”

“African, thin braids, broad nose, thick cheeks …”

“I mean her pussy.”

I knew she meant Becky’s pussy, but it gave me a special thrill forcing Isabella do actually use the words, as when we first met two years ago, she had been really squeamish talking about a woman’s sexual physiognomy. Must have had something to do with her growing up in a Swiss boarding school, where her Brazilian fazenda parents sent her, so she would get the right education for a rich man’s wife and to be married off to the neighbour’s son. Well, she ended up as a social worker supporting the typical Estate single teenage mothers, which often had a striking resemblance to her looks with her German face and African hair, witness to her forebears’ propensity towards beautiful Brazilian mulattas.

“Ugly actually. Her outer lips were nearly closed with a kind of strong grass, but it was clear that between them she was empty.”

“Empty?”

Isabella’s breathing had increased. I was afraid she would cut her fingers, so fast she had started to slice the fruits. Dirty talk had sometimes this effect on her, but this was different.

“Nothing there, no inner lips, no hood, no clit, just a small wet hole.”

I kissed her neck, just where it meets the shoulder. She sighed, threw down the knife and leaned her head back on my chest, pulling my arms around her.

“She even offered her cunt juice, licking it herself, saying that it tastes different than before.”

“Did you taste it?”

“No, I’m not that stupid. It was bad enough that I didn’t call in Jenny to make sure that a woman is present, when this fourteen year old undressed herself.”

“It sure made you horny. Your cock is drilling a hole in my back.”

She looked up at me with her naughty smile, which always had me hot in seconds. Somehow my hands had found hold on her boobs anyway, so it was just natural that they skipped under the T shirt to give the braless beauties the work over they deserved, while our tongues danced samba. Two minutes later her face was lying on the kitchen counter, her back bent to present herself and the sight of her thick inner lips crowned by her prominent clit surrounded by a jungle of coarse black hair had me salivating and, although she expected me to ram my rod right up her tight hole, it was my mouth, which fastened on her red pearl. She screamed her first orgasm as I bit into her thick hood and wiggled my head like a dog with his bone. She was still convulsing and dripping pungent juice on the kitchen floor, when I took my aim and with one fluent motion pierced her to the core triggering the second one. Having ejaculated three times already on this quite particular day, I wasn’t coming any time soon and after her fourth orgasm Isabella was drying up. She had turned her head, facing me with matted hair, moaning and shuttering, a smile around her tired eyes.

“Are you going to fuck me in the ass now like her?”

How did she know? I came just like that, without the normal build up, riding a sudden wave of guilt, the image of Becky’s cut pussy under her extended asshole sound tracked with the satisfied giggles of my girlfriend.

“You have to help!”

“Why? If she’s bleeding and in pain, she needs immediate care and I’m sure your posh school has a nurse’s office.”

“Because you’re the only one I can trust. If we go there, they will say it was my fault and kick me from school.”

Well, I’m a sucker for fourteen year olds, who tell me they trust me. Half an hour later Becky and Kjerstin stood in my office. How they had skipped their ‘high security prison’ was not explained, just that there are ways.

“Look.”

The door hadn’t even closed, when Becky pulled down Kjerstin’s knickers to reveal a sparsely blond haired pussy in distress. While tears rolled silently down Kjerstin’s blond framed face crunched up in pain, Becky peeled back blood soaked handkerchiefs and opened Kjerstin’s outer lips to show a half severed hood and clit, which kept seeping blood. Being a psychologist not a surgeon I felt slightly nauseas … and horny. What is it with young mutilated pussies that had me salivating?

“I think I know someone, who might be able to help and sew it back on.”

“Noooo.”

Kjerstin’s wail took us all by surprise. With inhumane strength she pushed Becky away and pinched her half severed hood between her fingers and pulled it, shrieking with pain, blood tripping on the floor..

“I want it gone, I need it gone. Why didn’t you continue cutting, you’re my best friend …”

Becky had jumped up, trying to cover Kjerstin’s mouth at the same time as pulling back her arms, when Kjerstin broke down on her knees crying. I rushed to get some paper towels to cover the floor, while Becky was holding her, kissing her tear stained face, whispering words of comfort.

“Because you’re my best friend, I couldn’t cut you, it would have been like cutting myself. I so love your clitty, even more so as I don’t have one of my own any more …”

“But you promised that I could come with you and I could go through the ‘masutlolo’ and be as beautiful as you.”

“That would be different, it wouldn’t be me who cut you. You would become a woman of our tribe and we could stay together as best friends in our village. You know very well that it was your parents, who didn’t allow it, my father said yes.”

“It’s not fair, my mother is so stupid, she doesn’t understand that it’s the most natural thing to have a clean pussy, to be free from all this skin, from this constant desire to touch …”

Even in her sobbed hiccups was the clear indication that this girl was over-educated. I struggled with covering the floor between Kjerstin’s legs. She was sitting on her heels, her knees wide open, presenting her bloody pussy. I didn’t dare to touch it to staunch the blood, so I passed the towels to Becky.

“My girlfriend’s brother is a fairly known plastic surgeon. I could ask Isabella to call him, but I can’t promise anything.”

“Does she know?”

Becky’s eyes were a darker shade than black and would have put the fear into anyone much braver than me.

“No. She knows only that a patient of mine was sexually mutilated.”

Becky smiled and relaxed evidently.

“Then call her.”

While I made the call, Kjerstin had stopped crying.

“This will hurt.”

Becky looked deep into Kjerstin’s eyes, while pressing the paper towels on Kjerstin’s gored pussy. Kjerstin opened her mouth in a silent cry, but never flinched. She even started wiggling her bum as if to entice Becky to rub the open wound. I was so entranced by that view that I nearly ignored Isabella answering my call.

“Dr. Schneider is your brother in law?”

“Well, technically as we are not married … How do you know …”

“…him? Some of the girls I told you about, they went to his clinic in Brazil to have their breasts done, but they told me most of the time he’s here now …”

“It seems producing she-males got a little old … and there are also some tax problems, if I understand correctly. Here is Isabella.”

There was an odd smile playing around Becky’s lips, when she saw my reaction to recognising my girlfriend waiting for us at the door of the clinic. Becky kissed Kjerstin’s lips. She had fallen asleep in Becky’s arms.

“Wakey, wakey, sleepy head, Dr. Schneider will make you beautiful.”

Using the rear mirror, while parking the car, had me nearly driving into a wall: Kjerstin must have been in considerable pain, still she looked up at Becky with such a beatific smile and so much love in her eyes that it took my breath away. Only the young can love so unconditionally. Isabella was pleasantly surprised that I greeted her with a heartfelt “God, I love you, woman”.

“Well, it wasn’t exactly difficult to interest my brother in this case …”

“No, I really mean it.”

There was a strange look in her eyes like I had hurt her and asked her to marry me at the same time. Then she hugged me really tight, kissed me and putting her head on my shoulder sighed from the bottom of her heart.

“If cut pussies have this effect on you …”

Her whisper into my ear had us still laughing, when Becky managed to get Kjerstin out of the car.

“Bruno, entscheid Dich.”

Isabella had a special bond with her brother. Although when older, they only saw each other during school holidays, often a glance or one, two German words, the language their father insisted they spoke at home, were enough to pass a message between them. It always made me jealous.

“I understand that you could give it a good shot at restoring some of the functionality and your ambition as a fine surgeon would certainly push you into that direction. But there are also the patient’s wishes.”

“Which are highly illegal and on top she’s underage.”

Isabella’s and Bruno’s whispered discussion had the two girls craning their necks, with Kjerstin already well positioned under strong surgical lights, her legs in stirrups, the blue paper frock barely concealing her ample Scandinavian bosom, while Becky was holding her hand.

“What will your parents say?”

“They will never know.”

“They don’t see you naked?”

“Contrary to popular believe it’s not all free love in my country, there is a strong protestant tradition with certain families, where nudity is frowned upon.”

Kjerstin’s stiff answers to Bruno’s police style interrogation sounded proof enough for me that she came from a rather buttoned up repressed family, where a suppression of sexuality might even be seen as advantageous.

“But you’re mother knows about your wish and might grow suspicious and force you to see a gynaecologist.”

Both girls glared at me, as it could have been only me, who had told the doctor about it. As my attempt to look innocent failed, I blurred out:

“Listen girls, we have to cover all our tracks. Can you imagine, what would happen to us, if this could be traced back to this office? We would all land in prison for years.”

There was understanding mixed with despair in Kjerstin’s eyes.

“Ok, there is this far removed uncle of mine. He’s a gynaecologist and a sleazy bastard. He tried to kiss me, when I was only twelve. I’m sure if worst comes to worse I could insist on having him examine me and the way he is, I certainly could get him into a situation, where I could convince him not to say anything.”

“You’re not gonna be this guy’s whore?”

“Who knows, perhaps I like it.”

Becky looked shocked, but when Kjerstin smiled at her, ruffling her braids, she giggled. When Isabella touched his arm, Bruno shook his head and sighed.

“Ok, I sent everyone home, so you two better learn fast to be my assistants. Wash up next door and put on gloves like me. I’ll prepare the anaesthetic.”

“No. No pain killer.”

Kjerstin’s shout had us stop in our tracks. These teenage histrionics started to get on my nerves. Bruno seemed to think the same way, because he put down the scary looking syringe, which he was about to fill, with ostentatious care.

“Well, I’m not going to operate on you, if you jerk around, and I promise you, it’s impossible to stand the pain without moving.”

“I can do it. I want to feel the same way like Becky. I can do it, I nearly did it myself.”

Kjerstin’s lips were shaking. She was close to crying again.

“But you didn’t, because the pain was too strong, wasn’t it?”

“It was my fault. Yes, she lost her grip on the scalpel and it fell to the ground. That’s what I heard and so I came out of the bathroom and saw, what she was doing. But we fought over the knife and she even cut me.”

Now I discovered that Becky had a band aid on her arm. Kjerstin whispered ‘Sorry’, while she stroked over the injury.

“Kjerstin would have continued, although blood was running down her legs like crazy. Her mother had told her the night before that she was not allowed to accompany me on my next trip home. She was so furious about it that she could have torn apart the building. Must be her Viking blood.”

Kjerstin smiled at Becky all adoringly, proud about her lover’s esteem. Because that’s what they were, as became clear to me in that instant. This was far beyond best friends with benefits, even if African homophobia wouldn’t allow Becky to admit it. After all otherwise she would have to end up as ‘sasusi’ or however that was called in her bizarre language, a eunuch temple nun.

“It was only, when I shouted at her that the scalpel is not sterile anymore, that I broke her will. But I’m sure she is strong enough for the ‘masutlolo’.”

Bruno looked at Becky with the typical haughty arrogance, only doctors can profess.

“I assume you’re talking about a specific rite in your culture, and I’m sure it involves medicinal plants, which produce heightened states of mind or the general atmosphere has such effects, all in all something, which would be impossible to reproduce here.”

“I can do it, I can get her there, just prepare your things and you will see, when she’s ready.”

Becky’s fourteen year old African Princess’ stubbornness could take it up with high society plastic surgeons any time. Bruno shook his head and sighed for the second time this evening.

“What are you waiting for? Bring the restraints, second chest on the right.”

Isabella and I could barely hold our laughs, till we stood over the wash basins disinfecting our hands. And we nearly didn’t make it back into the operation theatre as we stood engrossed at the one way window, observing Becky’s expert love making to Kjerstin, who was basically undulating in her chair, so taken was she by Becky’s deep kisses, tender strokes and whatever she did to Kjerstin’s breasts under that paper smock. Kjerstin must have said something to her, because suddenly Becky shed her clothes and stood naked in all her cut beauty. Even Bruno stopped in his preparations and looked in obvious admiration at the green ribboned slit, which was all that was left of Becky’s pussy. Isabella’s breathing increased at the sight and she exploded the moment Kjerstin cupped Becky’s modified pouch.

“What are you doing in there, washing hands or making them dirty?”

“How does he know?”

“With me he always knows. You better change your gloves, they are definitely not sterile anymore.”

I removed my fingers slowly from Isabella’s sex and asshole. How they had ended up in there, I couldn’t remember. But I knew that my blue balls would kill me for the rest of the evening.

“Fix her legs to the stirrups and her hips to the table. If Becky thinks, she can cope with Kjerstin’s arms and head, that’s fine with me.”

It was obvious that Kjerstin had become highly aroused by Becky’s administrations as her swollen pussy was leaking into the kidney dish between her legs. The swelling itself, originally limited to the area of injury, had become clearly sexual by now and Kjerstin’s outer lips had opened to reveal the beauty of her inner lips. With a tender movement of his finger Bruno parted them to show a little hole, which even to my inexpert eye was clearly closed by a hymen. The sight didn’t exactly lessen the pressure in my pelvic area. It didn’t help either that I saw Isabella using the occasion of fixing the hip restraint to unashamedly goggle Becky’s modified vulva, her mouth open in evident arousal and adoration.

“Tell them to do it now.”

Kjerstin was lost in a world were only Becky still existed, her pale face marked with red spots of excitement, her lips swollen like her nether lips, her pupils dilated barely leaving space for the sparkling blue of her irises. She seemed to mirror on one of Becky’s boobs, what Becky did with hers. She hadn’t even recognised that Isabella stood on the other side of the chair and had taken her other hand, stroking her hair. I would have missed the start of the operation, had not the slight crease above Kjerstin’s nose betrayed the onset of pain.

It took all my concentration not to get lost in the beauty of his ballet like movements, which Bruno used for the removal of all the excess skin in Kjerstin’s cleft: Keep the smoke extractor close to the laser scalpel, blot away any blood, pull the outer lips in one or the other direction, stay out of the way. I definitely was not surgical nurse material. Did I just think ‘excess skin’? What had happened with my conviction that pussies are beautiful just the way they are? This lonely, half severed, red little finger standing stiffly on top of Kjerstin’s slit looked quite out of place, but cutting it away would achieve what?

“Ok, here comes the tough part, are you ready?”

Bruno’s announcement shook me from my reverie and only now I recognised the shaking of Kjerstin’s thighs, the rapid movement of her belly, a whimpering sound. I looked up to see Becky remove Kjerstin’s hand from her breast leaving red marks, where Kjerstin’s finger nails tried to find solace from the feeling of loss. Becky kissed away Kjerstin’s tears, before Kjerstin said with a rattling sigh:

“Yes.”

She laid back her head, closed her eyes, Becky and Isabella holding her hands.

“Look at me, princess.”

“Oh God.”

It was exactly at that moment that Bruno cut through Kjerstin’s clit, lower than the original amateurish attempt to ‘get a cleaner surface’ as he explained to me latter. He must have changed the setting to a broader beam because at least in my amateurish imagination there should have been raw flesh pumping blood. Instead there was a burned area where the rest of her clit seemed to have fused with the surrounding skin, the little red seepage easily blotted away.

I skipped a heart beat, when I saw Ms. Foster’s number on my display. But at least it helped us clear things up, for we were still contemplating what to do with Kjerstin, because in her half delirious, half unconscious state she was certainly not able to fool anyone at the boarding school. As expected the girls’ escape had been discovered and a very worried Ms. Foster tried to follow all possible leads and was highly relieved, when I confirmed that the girls were with us. It needed, however, a rather crude application of my authority as child psychologist to convince her not to pick them up right away, but to have them stay with us over the long weekend. Kjerstin’s distraught state, after her mother’s refusal to let her accompany Becky to her African homeland, as well as Isabella’s status as head of local social services played their part in my argument.

“You’re such a liar.”

Isabella’s smile and the fact that she was following the contours of my face with strokes of her finger softened her harsh statement, but I knew she was speaking more about my relationship with Becky than about my ruse towards Ms. Foster. She had relieved my blue balls half an hour ago and there was a squelching sound when she moved her legs, proof of the heavy deposit I had left. Lately she didn’t jump up to pee and clean herself out after sex, but remained in bed cuddling, sometimes painting her belly with our mixed juices.

“I found out that it’s actually good for the skin. Especially my pussy feels less tender after fucking, as if your spunk has some rejuvenating effect. And I like our common stink in the morning. It makes me all hot for the rest of the day. Most mornings I could just stay in bed and keep on fucking you till your dick breaks off.”

Ok, what a change to the first time we met. She was the classical boarding school preppie, candle light dinner atmosphere, once a week kind of girl and now as she confessed some weeks ago her earth woman sensual side came finally to the fore.

“Why did you say it’s ugly?”

I had no clue what she was talking about.

“It’s different. It lacks perhaps distinctiveness, because, if everyone’s pussy is cut, they would look all the same. But still I think it’s beautiful. Like a Scandinavian design, all clear lines, open, accessible.”

Now I got it, she was describing Becky’s and Kjerstin’s pussies.

“And did you see how Kjerstin looked, when Bruno cut her? Her eyes got really big and Becky bent down to kiss her just in time and Kjerstin screamed into her mouth. It must have been the biggest orgasm of her life. Her belly kept on rippling and rippling. I think, even in the car she still had these shaky moments, where she would have little orgasms. What a way to say good bye to it all, to that constant itch, to the desire to be touched, to be rubbed, to play with this little terrorist!”

Her face, turned to me on her pillow, had taken on a darker hue in the soft yellow light of the bedside lamp, like her African ancestry demanded its rightful place in her life.

“I like pussies that look like yours, mysterious, not so easily revealed, something to play with, and especially functional as intended, that means triggering the best possible feeling a woman could get, what’s the use of …”

“Clean, empty, smooth …”

She had bent over and whispered into my ear.

“See, that’s your mind talking. But your dick gets hard, when I remind you, how these two young vixens look like …”

She had grabbed my cock giggling and. before I could react, she sat on it, starting a furious ride only a girl grown up in the Sertão could sustain. She came twice in a row without touching her clit, something she had only learned lately, each time she screamed and than laughed like a woman possessed.

“I bet you wanna fuck Kjerstin as well.”

That did the trick for me. She was lying on my belly, bathed in sweat, breathless, giggling, scratching my sides, her pussy still clamping.

“What a ride! Kjerstin’s sleeping now.”

My exhausted dick hardened again, when Becky jumped next to us on the bed and Isabella’s T shirt proved to be too short to cover the fact that she didn’t wear any underwear. Isabella wiggled her backside, looking up from my chest, laughing.

“Told you so!”

“What’s so funny?”

Becky seemed unperturbed by the sight of two people basically still fucking.

“Men!”

That seemed to be answer enough for Becky to start giggling as well.

“Do you want to talk now or do you want to go another round? I could get him hard again really fast.”

Without waiting for an answer Becky pulled my dick from Isabella’s sopping cunt and started wanking me.

“That’s the problem: I could always go for another round. So let’s leave this big boy here to his beauty sleep. And we better talk and find an answer to this conundrum.”