Doctor stopped torturing my poor, tingling nipples and put his arms around me. He pressed me back against his 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 large 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 adult 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, 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 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 from behind. "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 still oily breasts with my palms, noting, to my shame, how hard and sensitive my nipples still were. The light touch 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 on?" 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 my crotch, stretching the frilly 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."

He gave my booty a nice hard swat and a good firm squeeze. "Aha ha ha!" 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 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 clenched 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 as Doctor wrapped the tape around my 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 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. 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 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. 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, 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 so 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," he said. "Perfect." He descended to wrap the measuring tape around my booty. "Ya'know what? I think these panties are gonna interfere with our measurement, ya'know, since they're 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, polka dot 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 clenched crotch. Of all the things Doctor said and did to me so far, his 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 dropped to one knee and measured around my ass, his face only inches from my yearning teenage 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 him 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," I whimpered. "You're touching my pussy!" 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 teenage girl's hot lust. "Mmm-ahh," 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... mmm... I - I don't. I - I... I just... ahhh... I only... mmmmm... 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 clenching his wrist in the other. I might have believed I was trying to pull his finger out of my pussy, but 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," he taunted me. "Who taught you how to trim your cunt, huh?"

"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.

"No! I didn't lie! I am a virgin!" I pleaded with him. "I took my own cherry with my fingers."

"Oh, I see. Did you like playing with yourself, Bonita?"

"Yes!" I sighed breathlessly.

"Do you like how I'm touching you right now, Sweetheart? Do you like how I make you feel?"

"No, Sir!" I said, on pure instinct. Why did I say no!? I asked myself desperately, even as I kept running my lips. "You're a naughty man and you're taking advantage of me. You're not supposed to talk to me like this and you're not supposed to stick your fingers inside my pussy!" My plea of innocence in contrast with the lewd situation was a peculiar combination that titillated my mind in a way I had never experienced before.

I was stark naked (but for the sad, wet panties gathered at my feet), Doctor was finger fucking me as I held his arm and I had admitted to him that I liked masturbating myself. But I still played the good girl. At that moment I finally understood who I was and the game I had been playing. A game I had been playing the entire time.

If I was to name the game, it'd be called 'corrupt me.' The game was simple. I would be innocent and good and pure and modest, and the Doctor would find a way to corrupt every action I took. I used a tongue depressor to check his mouth - he used the same stick to gag me. I told him to weigh me - he found a way to get me naked. It was a game that my subconscious knew well, even if my conscious mind didn't.

And I realized I had been playing this game for a long time. Or at least some version of it. I dressed like a total trollop and called myself a good girl. I smiled at all the boys when they ogled my cleavage. I flaunted my body in the most innocent way possible, citing body positivity as an excuse. But no. I was playing a game. A game called 'corrupt me.' And Dr. Camerone was the first one man enough to play it with me. And he played to win.

"Oh, no, Beautiful One. I'm not fingering you in that way. I'm just doing a manual vaginal exam. Like I've said before, it's good to learn how to do things without the proper tools so that you can get familiar with the anatomy. And I'm simply asking about your sex life because I wanna make sure your sexual health is up to par." He slipped his finger out of my slimy wet twat and licked his finger clean as he stood straight. "The taste of your pussy can be a great indicator of its overall purity," Doctor offered when I stared at him.

"And... um..., how am I doing... down there?" I asked as innocently as I could, even though my blood was rushing and my pussy was pulsing with wanton need.

He smiled at me. "You have the sweetest little pussy, Angel. You wanna taste?"

I had tasted my pussy before, but only off my own fingers. I wanted to taste it off Doctor's. And so, I nodded slowly. "Mhm."

Doctor reached down and slipped two fingers through my tight coochie, soaking them thoroughly, then inserted them in between my lips. I sucked his two fingers as he pressed them down into my slithering tongue, humming all the while. He stroked my wet mouth back and forth a few times and I obediently enjoyed it. His fingers made a slick suction noise with my lips as he pulled them away. "Tasty?" he asked.

"Tasty," I replied. "So I guess that means I'm healthy, right, Doctor?"

"Absolutely. Now..., shall we continue our exam?"

I nodded. "Can I... have my clothes now?" I asked, standing there nude but covering my breasts by squeezing them to myself with my arm and leaving my soggy panties around my ankles but putting a...