Coercion of Bonita

"Ahh mmmmn Ssssir! You're touching my cunny!" I whimpered. "Y-you can't do that."

He wasn't as alarmed as I was. And he didn't move his hand - well, not away from my pussy, but let his finger gently glide along my moist crease. I waged war with my body to keep still and clinched my teeth to keep all moans, sighs and outcries inside. "Oh, Bonita," he sighed. "I thought you were ready. I thought you wanted me to teach you about your body. You told me you were a good and obedient girl. Are you telling me that you're another one of those wannabee rebellious types who don't believe in submission?"

I was always a good and respectful student. And his denial of that fact struck a nerve with me, even while his fingers caressed my wetness. I knew it made no sense, but I had to defend my image. "No, I'm not rebellious! I'm really not. It's just, I'm not used to having someone else's hands on my private parts. I'm so sorry. I really do appreciate you teaching me and I want to learn. But..., can we just do another type of exam? I promise I'll behave. I'll do whatever else you say."

I felt so bizarre. Top open, skirt and panties down, a topless stranger's fingers practically inside my pussy, I found myself needing my molester to know I was a good girl. And, to my shame, I was still incredibly horny. I imagined that Doctor would slide his finger deeper inside me and stretch my virginity. Deep inside, that's what I wanted and needed and craved. Doctor had just told me so.

But instead, Dr. Camerone took his fingers off my pussy. I pulled my panties and skirt back on, the cool liquid on the flimsy cotton meeting my hot flesh. Having my panties back on gave me a sense of security. I zipped my skirt up, sat at the edge of the table and watched as Doctor licked my juices off his fingers. It was hardly the most shocking thing he'd done. Those same fingers had just been in my pussy. Who was I to tell him not to lick them?

He looked me in my eye. "So, you say you want another exam?" I nodded. It was like him asking me, 'are you mature enough to continue?' It was a challenge, and as a 4.2 GPA student, I couldn't back down from it. In hindsight though, the question was more like, 'would you like to continue your molestation?'

"And you'll do whatever I say?" I nodded again, resolutely. "Good girl," he said, stepping close. He looked down at me and I gazed up at him, both of us smirking. "Take off your bra."

I hesitated just a moment, then reached behind and underneath my top to unhook my bra. I pulled it down off my breasts, covering myself with one arm and handed it to Doctor, who took it gladly and turned to set it in one of the drawers behind him. It seemed odd for him to put my clothes out of reach instead of right beside me. Something told me I wouldn't be getting it back soon, and excited fear started to boil in me again. "Aren't I a little too young for a breast exam?"

"Yes, but not too young to learn how to perform one. Unless you think all your patients are gonna be sexy, young girls like yourself."

I scoffed. "Maybe they will be. Just not as sexy as me."

"Of course not," he agreed, then took me by the wrist and pulled my arm from in front of my boobs. "No teenaged girl I've ever seen has such a magnificent pair of breasts."

"Breasts? Don't you mean tits, Doctor?" I teased.

"Oh, I'm just trying to be professional here," he mocked. "I wouldn't wanna make anyone feel uncomfortable. Even though you're flirting with me like a little minx, I would never, ever take advantage of you. Besides, little teeny boppers have titties. What you have are a woman's bountiful breasts. Full, mature and succulent."

"Thank you," I said. Doctor spun toward his cabinet and opened it, grabbed something, and rotated back to me. "What..? oil!?" I said even as he squirted several lines of cool baby oil right onto my naked chest.

"It'll help with the exam," he said as he capped the oil and set it aside. Doctor put his warm hands on my chest and casually spread his oil down over my breasts. "Makes it easier to feel every curve and contour. So we could feel every..." he said as he circled my boobs in his firm, oily hands, "Little..." and he zeroed in on my large, dark areolas, "thing." And his thumbs rasped the tips of my extremely stiff, extremely sensitive nipples.

Before I had time to build up the courage to object to his touch, his hands fell away from my chest and he took a step back. "Now stand up."

"Yes, sir," I obeyed.

"Turn around," he said, twirling his finger in the air. I furrowed my brow at him. "Do it," he commanded. I obeyed. I was frightened. I was in a particularly vulnerable position, not knowing what the charming but intimidating Doctor would do to me. I could feel him getting close to me. His presence looming behind, and then the warmth of his skin near my cheek, his breath in my ear, and then finally, his hands on mine.

Doctor took my hands and placed them just underneath my oil slick breasts, sliding upward very, very slowly. "Now, we don't want to leave any part of your breasts unexamined. So we'll go really slow." He whispered so close to me his breath tickled my earlobe.

"What are we feeling for?" I asked, my voice weak, husky and shaky.

"Abnormalities," he said as he led the massage of my breasts. Dr. Camerone lifted the hefty globes and squeezed firmly, pressing my hands into my own soft flesh. "A breast exam isn't very difficult. You just play with them, Bonita. It's just like when you're alone and you tease yourself. But instead of trying to turn yourself on and make your skin all tingly and you pussy wet, you're checking for abnormalities."

I might have been startled by Doctor's words, but I wasn't. He had been saying things like that all day and I had gotten used to it. But even still I would have reprimanded him if his hands and my hands slipping all over my tender breasts didn't feel so incredibly divine. It was like an erotic massage, exciting my body while relaxing it at the same time.

Doctor peered down over my shoulder at our hands and my delicate flesh, glossy globes of pliant skin, giving in to every firm squeeze. I knew he could hear my soft little coos and sighs. I didn't care. I threw my head back and indulged. I was being fondled so deliciously. Doctor's masterful hands slipped forward from mine and let me continue kneading and massaging the fullness of my breasts while he ventured to the tightened points of my nipples, teasing me to twitches.

"Mmmnnnmmm," I hummed and squirmed. "Why do you have to touch my nippllllesss" I almost cried in sexual agony.

Calmly, Doctor said, "your nipples have important nerve endings inside them. If they don't produce a sensitive, sexual response, it may indicate an issue. Yours seem to be very, very healthy, Bonita. Exceptional nipples." And he kept fondling my poor nubins, flicking them, and twisting and pinching them. Even the pain felt sexy. My pussy was drooling for more.

Doctor stopped torturing me and put his hands around my waist, going underneath my still open shirt and wrapped around me. He pressed me to his hard, strong, masculine body and I squeaked as I felt his massive manhood prod my bottom through his pants and my skirt. Even restrained by several layers of clothing it felt huge and intimidating.

As his hand slid down my things, beneath the hemline of my skirt, and then back up underneath to the waistband of my panties, I was faced with a decision. Either let him slip my panties down and fuck me like I knew I craved, or hit him, run out of the office and tell the first teacher I saw that the Doctor had molested me. But for a reason I did not yet understand, I chose a third option.

I forced myself forward and away from him, then turned to face him. "Doctor, you're doing it again," I said, fixing my panties and skirt and closing my top to hide my oily breasts. "This is way too far. I wanna do what you want me to, but this isn't what I thought it would be. You're trying to take advantage of me. I told you I'm not like that, Sir. I'm a good girl, so I think you should treat me that way."

He showed no sign of guilt. "Taking advantage? No way, Beautiful. I was simply checking your sexual response, just like I said. You were squirming and moaning, which can be a good indication of arousal, but I needed to check your pussy to be sure. You let me touch you there before, so I thought you understood."

That almost sounded like a logical explanation. And for some reason, I chose to buy it. He had already seen my coochie, and touched it with his fingers, and even tasted it, so it wouldn't be such a big deal for him to know the state of my arousal. "Well, Sir, all you had to do was ask. Yes, when you played with my nipples I got really, really wet. So, I guess that means they're healthy. Right?"

Doctor smiled. "Yes, absolutely." I really liked it when he smiled, not just because it was a gorgeous smile, but because I liked knowing that he was pleased with me. I felt so bad whenever Doctor had to chide me for disobedience. I guess it was just the good girl in me, never wanting adults to feel like I'm challenging them.

As I stood, pretty much fully clothed again, Doctor's hands off my body, I started to think somewhat more clearly. "I wanna pick the next exam you teach me," I said, trying to take some control of the situation. "How about height and weight," I said, trying to think of the most innocent thing I could remember from a doctor's visit.

"Hmm, height, weight, measurements... okay," he agreed surprisingly. "Hop up on the scale."

I stepped up on the square panel, wondering how Doctor would make this exam dirty. There was no reason for him to touch me or say anything inappropriate while checking my height. And as Doctor extended the height rod from the scale, placed it on top of my head and measured me, he was surprisingly silent and hands-off. "You are five feet and seven inches tall," he said. Just like that. Disappointingly bland. I should have been relieved and I tried to be, but I had been conditioned to expect more.

As I was convincing myself to be glad he had seemed to be done violating me, he said, "Now, to weigh you, I'll need to undress you," even as he slid my white blouse off my shoulders. "You should always be as precise as possible. All your clothes weigh something, and it could throw off our results."

Into the drawer my top went, and once again my lustrous breasts were in the open. I didn't fight for my top back, but covered my breasts with my palms, noting, to my shame, how hard and sensitive my nipples still were. The light touch still felt electric, especially since Doctor was reaching around me and working on the zipper of my skirt. It fell to the floor, I stepped out of it and let Doctor take it and add it to the collection of my clothes in his drawer.

"Is it okay if I keep my panties?" I whispered shyly. I imagined him saying 'no' and snatching them down by force. The idea thrilled me. I secretly let my palms caress the tips of my breasts to add fuel to the fire inside me.

Doctor pulled the band of my little panties outward beside my left hip with both index fingers, then swiveled around over my ass and over my crotch, stretching the lacey band in both directions. He let my panties snap back into place. "Yes, you can keep your panties. They're so wispy and light they won't make a difference in your weight. Besides, these cute little panties are so tight, they make your ass look adorably lush."

And he gave my booty a nice hard swat and a good firm squeeze. "Ahhaaahaha!" I half giggled and half screamed as I pushed his hand away from my round posterior. "You're supposed to be weighing me, sir, not feeling me up."

"I'm sorry, Bonita, but your body is irresistible. I just can't keep my hands off," he said as he began sliding the weights across the balance beams.

I tried to hide the desire from my facial expression with a mask of annoyance, even as I secretly moved my palms ever so slightly against my sensitive, oil slick nips. My entire body radiated with need as I clinched my teeth to keep a straight face.

Doctor announced my weight (115 lbs if you must know) and told me to step off the scale. I thought he was going to return my clothes to me, but realized it was the adjacent drawer he opened and pulled out a long tape, the kind you find at a tailor's shop. "What's that for?" I asked.

"Your measurements. Y'know, band, bust, waist, hips."

"I... didn't know you have to do those types of measurements."

"Well, where else would you go to get real body measurements? The size of your breasts and your ass is just as important as your height and weight. Don't you think?"

"I... I guess so." I didn't want to negate anything Doctor said. I still wanted to please him, to make him smile, to be a good girl. What is wrong with me!? I thought in desperation.

"Well, I know so, Bonita."

"Yes, Sir," I agreed. He smiled. I smiled, but then looked down at my bare feet, blushing in shame.

I stepped off the scale and turned toward Doctor. He stepped in front of me and stretched out the body tape, wrapping it behind my back and bringing the other ends out front. Still cupping with my hands, I lifted my boobs up as Doctor wrapped the tape around front, measuring my upper torso. "Hmph, looks like you should be wearing a band size thirty-four bra."

"Yes, Sir. I do."

"Good girl. Now, arms out."

Reluctantly, but obediently, I held my arms out beside me, uncovering my full breasts and letting them fall to their natural height. My nipples were definitely swollen to tight nubs, and all slick and shiny with Doctor's oil. I looked into his eyes which were glued to my tits. "God, Bonita, you are so amazing."

"Thank you, sir," I said as he closed the tape around my full breasts. Then I held my breath. Why am I letting him do and say these things!? I screamed at myself, but I was not listening. All I was doing was feeling. Feeling Doctor's hands gliding all over my upper body, feeling the cool plastic of the measuring tape tickling my nipples as he adjusted it. He pulled the tape just taut, then slid it up, grazing the sensitive kernels I had been secretly stimulating just a minute earlier.

He then readjusted the tight tape, sliding down over my sensitive buds once again. This time, knowing he did it on purpose made my body flush with lust. I clenched my teeth as Doctor continued to tease my sore nipples, flicking them up and down with the little band. I managed to swallow all moans but my knees went increasingly tender with each pass of the tape against my oil slick nips.

"Doctor!" I finally whined. "You're being naughty!" Why did I use that word? "You're doing this on purpose. Please just measure me and be done." I pleaded, knowing fully that I should be running out of the room and finding the nearest adult. But I can't leave. I'm naked.

"I am, Sweetheart. Just finding the right spot." He finally settled on the fullest part of my breasts and read the tape. "Thirty-eight inches. So you should be wearing a cup size...-"

"D," I said proudly.

"Well, you could wear a D cup. You'd definitely fill it out. But I suggest you wear a C cup. Wearing a smaller cup will help your breasts stay perky like this for years longer. And while you're still a young girl, a tighter bra would make your gorgeous breasts look so mouth-watering. The boys would love to see your tits popping up out of your top. You could even try a shelf bra so you can show off these perfect nipples."

I was struck with an erotic bolt when Doctor's thumbs began manipulating my nipples. "Siirrrrr!" I squealed. "Stooooop," I whimpered. I really wanted to say, 'stop teasing me,' but I wouldn't let the words escape from my good girl lips. Maybe I should just give in and let him have his way, I thought shamefully. "You have to measure the rest of me, Doctor, not just my breasts."

One part of me, the good girl part, wanted his hands off my sensitive tits. The other part, the previously dormant sexual deviant that was gaining more control of me every second, wanted his hands to descend my body, fall into my panties and fondle my virginity just like he did my nipples. It would feel soooo delicious! I was losing my mind to lust and I knew it.

When Doctor lowered his hands from my chest to measure my waist, I palmed my tits again, less subtly sliding against my nipples to make my pussy tingle and gush.

"Twenty-four inches. Perfect," he said, and then quickly descended to wrap the measuring tape around my booty. "Y'know what? These panties are gonna interfere with our measurement, y'know, since their full-back panties and everything. We should pull them out of the way so we can get the numbers just right."

Even as I was timidly saying, "no, I don't think...," Doctor was sliding my pink panties down. I clenched my thighs together to try to stop him but he persisted, slipping the band off my hips and snatching the drenched gusset from my clinched crotch. Of all the things Doctor said and did to me so far, him forcibly stripping my panties away made me hornier than I had ever been in my life. I nipped at the corner of my lip and squeezed my breasts as he took to one knee and measured around my ass, his face only inches from my yearning teenaged sex.

"How often do you shave your pussy, Beautiful?" Doctor asked me as he touched my wispy bush with his fingertips.

I gasped and my hands darted from in front of my boobs down to push his fingers away from my crotch. Our fingers tangled up and I was too weak to push his away, physically and mentally. I realize now that I only wanted to appear to resist. I wanted him to touch me. I wanted to feel like an innocent girl being spoiled by a sexy older pervert. It turned me on to be touched where I was told never to let anyone touch. Especially when I told him no and he did it anyway. It made me feel so powerless. So lovely. And I needed more.

I pushed his hand downward with mine, my squirming show of effort causing my sodden panties to 'accidentally' fall to my ankles. "Stop it. You're touching my pussy," I whimpered as our struggling fingers drifted fortuitously down to my sopping wet slit.

Thankfully, Doctor didn't let up. His middle finger slid through the slick folds of my inner labia, making me gasp again as I struggled weakly against him. He snaked his way through, and sank his forceful finger into my hole where he would find my inner pink warm and saturated with a teenaged girl's hot lust. "Mmmmn aaah," I moaned and sighed as my body squirmed and the strength in my knees dwindled.

"I asked you a question, Bonita," he said casually as he infiltrated my sex. "How often do you shave your cunt?"

"I... mmmmm... I - I don't. I - I... I just... ahhh... I only... mmmmmmmmmnn... I tr-trim." I could barely get words past my lips as I leaned onto Doctor's shoulder, gripping it tight with one hand while clinching his wrist in the other. I might have believed I was trying to pull his finger out of my pussy, but really all I was doing was making him finger me. I'd pull him out a bit, then he'd push himself in deeper, and then we would repeat.

"I thought you were a good girl, Bonita. Who taught you how to shave your cunt, huh?" He taunted me.

"My mama taught me," I managed to say. "I am a good girl. Doctor, please!" I had intended to say 'please stop' but I was afraid he actually might.

"No. You're no good girl. If you were, you wouldn't have lied to me. You told me you were a virgin, and this doesn't feel like a virgin cunt to me. Your cherry blossom's gone, you sexy little liar."

I held his wrist and kept squeezing it hard but stopped trying to pull him away, allowing him to finger fuck me just how he wanted - aggressively. He seemed angry that my seal had been broken and channeled his anger into his firm finger strokes into my vagina.