TIFFANY ON THE TABLE 
BY DR. WU 
MMM/f teen nc humil, med exam 
  
  
  THE OPENING BLAH BLAH: Copyright 1999 by Dr. Wu. This story is 
completely fiction. It may be posted or archived anywhere on the net 
that is free, and may not be archived anywhere that charges a fee of 
any kind.   It contains non-consensual sex between men and an underaged 
girl, as well as critical comments about HMOs and a spoof of a popular 
song, so obviously it is intended for persons over 18, and no one 
younger. "Tiffany on the Table" can be read on its own, but is a 
continuation of the Tiffany Daniels saga, which includes "Toying With 
Tiffany," "24- Hour Boy Toy Tiffany" and "Trippin' With Tiffany."
  
TIFFANY ON THE TABLE 
CHAPTER ONE 
  
  "I know what boys like, I know what guys want, 
  I know what boys like, I've got what boys like, 
  I know what boys like, I know what guys want, 
  I see them looking, I make them want me, 
  I like to tease them, 
  They want to touch me, 
  I never let them." 
  
  Tiffany Daniels sashayed down the hall of her high school, singing 
softly to herself. None of the students could hear her; the song, an 
old '80s tune by The Waitresses she had heard at a friend's house over 
the weekend, had stuck in her head, the way relentlessly catchy 
melodies so often do. 
  
The other students might not have been able to hear what she was 
singing to herself, but they certainly noticed Tiffany. She was the 
queen of Daniels High School (named for her grandfather, Godfrey 
Daniels). How was she queen? Let us count the ways, as Tiffany so often 
did to herself:  
  
  She was a senior. A cheerleader. She was rich. Her family was 
established and well-connected, her daddy a member of the City Council 
of Beverly, Texas. And she was beautiful, heart-breakingly, 
staggeringly beautiful, in the way a pampered princess of 17 years can 
be. Long blonde hair that bounced when she walked, a knock-out figure 
with perfect firm tits and long, tanned legs, a cute little pug nose 
and a light sprinkling of freckles that gave her a resemblance to a 
certain teenaged tennis star who dates an older hockey player and is 
known for her I'm-so-fuckable- too-bad-you-can't attitude. 
  
And like some royalty, Tiffany knew she ruled. Sports hadn't started 
for the school year yet, so she wasn't allowed to wear her cheerleading 
uniform to school, with its ultra-short pleated skirt that swirled when 
she walked and made all the boys and most of the male teachers almost 
cross-eyed with desire. But she nonetheless managed to dress in a 
classy, sexy way that didn't look slutty, with a plaid kilt-style skirt 
that fell to mid-thigh, white knee socks, expensive loafers, and an $80 
white cotton sweater, very lightweight, that showcased her magnificent 
chest. As she bounced down the hall of Daniels High, she was the very 
picture of healthy, nubile schoolgirl eroticism. 
  
"Tiffany, could I see you a moment please?" Ms. Warren, the Daniels 
cheerleader advisory, called out from her class to the passing senior. 
Tiffany stepped into the room. 
  
"Tiffany, have you had your physical yet?" 
  
"Oh, jeez, Ms. Warren," the teenaged beauty said, "I'm sorry. I guess 
I've been putting it off." 
  
"Well, you can't put it off any longer, dear. The deadline for the 
squad is tomorrow. And you know the rules: If you don't have a signed 
doctor's form and a complete physical every year, you can't be a 
cheerleader." 
  
"I know," Tiffany said, somewhat embarrassed by the intimacy of the 
topic. She hated going to her doctor for a physical, even though she 
was a woman, because it meant being naked, or nearly naked, and having 
her breasts examined for lumps and being on that God-awful examining 
table and having her legs up in the stirrups and all. After what 
Tiffany had been through in the past year Ñ the sexual degradation, 
humiliation and abuse that had been heaped on her by teachers, 
relatives and even strangers in a bizarre string of horrifying ordeals 
Ñ she  could barely stand to be naked in the shower, let alone in front 
of a stranger.  
  
She thought quickly. "But it's Wednesday, Ms. Warren. I think my doctor 
isn't in the office today." 
  
"Look, it's best to just get this over with, and not take a chance of 
missing the deadline," Ellyn Warren retorted. "I know a doctor that a 
couple of the other girls on the squad have used, and she keeps me 
office hours on Wednesday. I could write you a pass and you could get 
this over with right now." 
  
"She? The doctor's a woman?" 
  
"Of course, honey," Ellyn Warren said. "I know how you teenaged girls 
feel about going to male doctors. Dr. Weston is very nice. Tell her I 
sent you and what it's for, and she'll do a super-quick exam and get 
you out in 10 minutes tops." 
  
"Well, OK," Tiffany said reluctantly. She had no more excuses, and she 
did have to do it. Better to get it over with. 
  
Fifteen minutes later Tiffany swung her red Miata into a parking space 
at a nondescript office park in Beverly, the kind where all the gray 
brick buildings look just alike.  That song was will going through her 
mind, and she was enjoying singing: 
  
  "I got my cat moves, that so upset them 
  Zippers and buttons, fun to frustrate them 
  They get so angry 
    Like pouty children denied their candy." 
  
  She found the sign out front indicating that this was the office of 
Dr. Nancy Weston, and went inside. A matronly receptionist, chubby and 
graying, greeted her, pushed a clipboard at her with a page of personal 
information to fill out, and Tiffany sat down to write, and then to 
wait. The waiting room was empty, and in just a few minutes the 
receptionist, whose nametag read "Hope," called her name. 
  
"How are you, honey?" she asked with a voice that sounded like too many 
cigarettes. 
  
"Fine." 
  
"Step into Exam Room 1, take off your clothes and put on the gown. The 
doc will be with you in a second." Tiffany did as she was told, and 
stripped down to her knee socks (for warmth), lacy white cotton bra and 
white Victoria's Secret panties. She put on the thin cloth gown, and 
awkwardly tied it behind her back and around her neck. She could still 
feel how much of her back side was exposed by the long slit in the 
gown. Before she even had a chance to sit up on the examining table, 
Hope was back. 
  
"Come on out here, hon, I got to take your weight and height."  
  
The 17-year-old cheerleader stepped nervously into the hall and climbed 
up on the scale. The receptionist wrote her weight, 115 lbs., and 
height, 5 foot 7, on the clipboard, and Tiffany was about to step down 
when she heard a male voice say "Holy shit!" 
  
She whirled around and saw two construction workers, who had 
appeared as if from nowhere in the corridor. They were big, burly guys 
in the late 20s, dressed in jeans and white T-shirts, and both wore 
belts hung with tools. "Yowsah!" said the other man. 
  
The two workmen were openly ogling the poor girl. From their view of 
her back as she stood on the scale, she knew they could see a lot of 
her bare back and much of her naked legs. The way the gown was tied 
they couldn't see her panties or ass, and if she had stopped to think 
about it, Tiffany often was seen by hundreds of men at the beach 
wearing a bikini that exposed far more of her succulent flesh. But this 
wasn't a time for such rational thought, and the flustered schoolgirl 
was deeply embarrassed to have the two strangers so openly checking her 
out.  
  
"Don't you men have some work to do?" asked the receptionist harshly. 
"Get back to your dry-walling!" The workers held their gaze for a few 
more moments, and Tiffany could feel their hot, lustful stares burning 
into her skin. Then, disappointed that their show was over, they went 
back into another exam room. 
  
"Sorry about that, hon," she told Tiffany. "That wasn't very nice. 
Still, you can't blame red-blooded American men for noticing a pretty 
little thing like you." 
  
Tiffany knew she was trying to make light of the situation, but she 
felt sick to her stomach, somehow violated. by the eyeball-rape. She 
moved quickly back into her exam room, and shut the door behind her. 
God, why did they have to make these places so freezing cold? she 
thought. She was getting goosebumps on her arms, and underneath the 
cotton gown, her nipples had sprung to erection from the cold. They 
brushed against the front of her gown when Tiffany hopped up onto the 
examining table and sat on the white paper that had been rolled down 
there. 
  
There were no magazines, so Tiffany just sat. A boombox sitting on the 
counter against one wall was playing soft music, some sort of light 
classical that was obviously intended to relax patients, but little 
Tiffany was far from relaxing. She was no longer singing "I Know What 
Boys Wants," because her cockiness had been punctured by the brief 
encounter with the lecherous workmen. Soon there was a gentle knock on 
the door and in walked the doctor. 
  
"Hello," he said. "I'm Dr. Steadman." 
  
"But, uh, you're supposed to be a, uh, woman," Tiffany stammered.  
  
"Well, obviously I'm not," he answered. "If you mean Dr. Weston, she 
had a family emergency. I  work for the same HMO, and they called me 
and asked me to fill in." 
  
Tiffany didn't know what to say or do. She was already in the gown, in 
the exam room, and her sponsor was expecting her back soon with a 
signed physical form. She hated the thought of being examined by a man, 
but it was better just to get it over with. It didn't help that Dr. 
Steadman was incredibly handsome. Tiffany figured he was probably in 
his late '20s, not long out of med school. He was tall and well-built, 
with close-cropped dark hair and piercing eyes. 
  
"Your chart says you're here for your high-school physical," he said. 
  
"Cheerleading." 
  
"Oh, you're a cheerleader? Lucky you. I should have known."  
  
Was he flirting with her? Tiffany wondered. What did he mean by that? 
  
"Very good, Miss Daniels. Please untie your gown behind your neck and 
let it drop forward. I need to check your breathing." He picked up the 
end of the stethoscope that dangled from his neck. 
  
"Untie my gown?" Tiffany said. "Can't you listen through my gown?"  
  
"Miss Daniels," he said sternly. "You let me be the doctor, and you can 
be the patient, and we can both get on with this." His tone left little 
room for her to argue. 
  
Reluctantly, Tiffany reached back and untied the string at the back of 
her neck. As soon as it was loose, the gown fell forward, exposing her 
36 C breasts nestled snugly in their bra. Even through the cotton, the 
nipples, pink and hard as little pebbles, felt the cold air in the room 
and poked out even more. She was embarrassed by her erect little 
nubbins, but hoped the doctor saw this sort of thing all the time. 
  
"This will be a little chilly," Dr. Steadman said as he approached with 
the stethoscope. "Can't be helped." He placed the icy piece of metal on 
her chest between her tits and instructed her to breathe. The familiar 
ritual was repeated as he moved the stethoscope around her chest, and 
then on several spots on her back. Tiffany started to calm down a 
little from the clinical nature of what was happening. 
  
"Now we have to check for any nodes in the breasts. Please lay back on 
the table." 
  
"Dr. Steadman?" the nervous girl squeaked. "Is that reall necessary? I 
mean, I'm only 17, so I don't think that's a problem, and uh, I was 
hoping this would just be quick so I could get back to school."  
  
"Miss Daniels, I'm getting tired of having my authority challenged!" 
Steadman snapped. "Now quit yapping at me, take off your bra  and lay 
down!" 
  
The busty girl had no choice. Reluctantly, she unhooked her bra and set 
it aside. Her sweet adolescent breasts were now on full display, and 
Tiffany prayed the door to the exam room was locked, so those horrible 
workmen would not "accidentally" come in and see her. She lay down on 
the paper, her arms at her sides, her body rigid with anxiety. Her 
breathing was shallow, and her perfectly formed knockers rose and fell, 
rose and fell, in a delightful rhythm. 
  
"Please try and relax, Miss Daniels. I'm not going to hurt you." She 
couldn't help it, she squeezed her eyes shut, and the she felt his 
hands on her left breast. They were incredibly warm and soft. Dr. 
Steadman began to rub her breasts in circles, giving her a standard 
breast exam. His touch was so tender, Tiffany thought, and she found 
herself relaxing, the tension melting away as she lay back with her 
eyes closed. The hands started at the outsides of her breasts and 
worked inward, slowly, in circles, headed toward the nipple. 
  
To her dismay, Tiffany found herself wishing he would hurry up and get 
to her nipples. They were so cold and so hard, and she knew his soft, 
warm fingers would feel fantastic there. This wish confused her: this 
was a breast exam, for God's sake, not an erotic massage. Still, she 
couldn't help the tickle in her brain. 
  
Dr. Steadman finally reached the nipple of her left breast, and Tiffany 
surprised herself by gasping with pleasure when his fingertips made 
contact with the aureole. He immediately stopped. "Is everything all 
right, Miss Daniels?" he asked. 
  
She opened her eyes and looked at him leaning over her. "Yes, I'm 
sorry," she replied. 
  
"This is not supposed to be sexually stimulating, Miss Daniels," he 
said in a clinical voice. 
  
Tiffany blushed scarlet. Oh Jeez, she thought, he can tell this is 
turning me on! How embarrassing! I've got to get a grip on myself. But 
she was also aware that her sweet teenage pussy was beginning to 
secrete a little bit of juice. 
  
Dr. Steadman turned his attention to Tiffany Daniels' right breast, and 
she closed her eyes again. The physician's sensitive fingers again 
worked their magic, and the beleaguered teenager was again assailed by 
inappropriate sexual feelings. Again, he reached her nipple and brushed 
it with his fingers, and Tiffany moaned softly and squeezed her naked 
thighs together. She was getting wet between her legs, and praying it 
wasn's so much as to make a spot on her panties! 
  
"You may sit up now, Miss Daniels," the doctor said, and Tiffany sat up 
swiftly. The intensity of her sexual arousal, coupled with sitting up 
so quickly, caused her to be light-headed for a moment, and she swayed 
a bit, leaning toward the doctor. Steadman reached out and caught her.  
  
"Are you all right?" he asked. 
  
"Yes, sir, I'm sorry. Please, I, uh, I don't know..." She knew she was 
babbling, but couldn't stop. 
  
"We'll continue the exam now," Steadman said. Tiffany didn't even think 
to ask if she could out her bra back on, but sat on the exam table, her 
naked breasts practically at eye level with the doctor, the front of 
her panties under the gown glistening slightly with a dab of her own 
juice. Steadman quickly ran through taking her pulse, blood pressure, 
checking her eyes, ears, throat and reflexes. The schoolgirl began to 
settle down and return to normal. 
  
"OK, we need to do a pelvic," the doctor said matter-of factly. "Take 
off your panties, then lay back, and out your feet in the stirrups.Ó 
  
This was the moment Tiffany had been dreading. She was about to expose 
her most intimate part to a total stranger. And even though he was a 
doctor, a professional, there was the added problem of having been 
slightly turned on be the breast exam. Her mind swirled with confusion, 
but she didn't want to be reprimanded again, so she obediently hopped 
down off the examining table, reacher under her gown and pulled off her 
panties. Then she climbed back up, lay on her back, and scooted her 
bottom down so that her legs were lined up in the proper position. She 
lifted her feet up and placed her heels carefully into the metal 
stirrups that jutted out from the end of the table. 
  
There is no more humiliating position for a woman, Tiffany thought. She 
and her friends sometimes joked nervously about how much they hated 
gyno exams, how demeaning it was just to have your legs lifted and 
spread and your private parts so blatantly exposed. Never mind what the 
doctor did down there, that was just too awful to even talk about! 
  
Dr. Steadman pulled thin latex gloves onto his hands. At least he's 
being very professional about all this, Tiffany thought. She waited, 
dreading his touch. Or at least part of her was dreading it. Another 
part of her brain Ñ the primitive part, that controls sexual response 
and operates independently of the rest of the brain Ñ was somehow 
craving his touch on her bare pussy. "Shame on you, Tiffany Daniels," 
she thought.  
  
  The physician stepped to the bottom of the table and lifted her gown, 
so that it formed a tent over her upraised knees and she could not see 
what he was doing. Then she felt him push a finger into her vagina. She 
was relieved that it didn't feel particularly good or bad. He slowly 
inserted his finger into the nervous adolescent, so splayed and 
vulnerable, until it was all the way in.. 
  
"Miss Daniels," he said sternly. "I see you're not a virgin."  
  
"What?" Tiffany practically yelped. "What?"  
  
"I'm simply stating a fact," he said. "Your hymen is gone. You're not a 
virgin. And don't give me any of that silly teenage girl crap about 
tampons or gymnastics or horseback riding." 
  
Tiffany was stunned. How dare he speak to her like this? She started to 
get up from the table. Any incipient sexual feeling had vanished 
completely, and she just wanted to get dressed and get away from this 
awful man. 
  
She was part way up when Steadman snarled at her. "Lay back down 
immediately, Miss Daniels!" She froze. 
  
"This is not an optional series of tests, Miss Daniels. I'm sorry if 
you're distressed that I found out that you're sexually active, but 
that's too bad, honey. Now get back down on that table!" 
  
Poor Tiffany was mortified. The exam had started off bad when she 
realized her doctor was a man, then had seemed OK when she was mildly 
aroused by him and he seemed to be professional. But now he was yelling 
at her, and practically calling her a slut. It was horrible, 
particularly for a princess like herself who almost always got her way. 
But what could she do? She obeyed Dr. Steadman and laid back down on 
the table.  
  
"Now, Miss Tiffany Daniels," he said, "I have to step out for just a 
minute. You will continue to lay exactly as you are and not move one 
muscle. If I come back and you have moved a muscle, I will call your 
cheerleader sponsor at school, whose number is on this form. I will 
tell her that since you are sexually active, I need to test you for 
sexually transmitted diseases. I can, if I choose, make it sound very 
ugly over the phone, implying all sorts of things. By the time I hang 
up, your sponsor will think you're practically dripping with the AIDS 
virus. Do you think a development like that might put a little crimp in 
your plans, Miss Daniels. Hmm?" 
  
He was taunting her, threatening her. It was too awful, Tiffany 
thought, just too awful. But he was leaving her no choice. She wanted 
to tell him that she had never willingly had sex with anybody, that 
every sexual encounter she'd ever had had been the result of blackmail 
or drugs or threats or outright force. Men seemed to always find ways 
to 
manipulate her, and that's why she wasn't a virgin. She wanted to tell 
Dr. Steadman all this, but how could she? With tears glistening in the 
corners of her eyes, she laid back down on the table and kept her feet 
in the stirrups. Dr. Steadman took the clipboard with the form she 
needed and left the exam room. 


CHAPTER TWO 
  
  With our poor little high school honey stretched out on the doctor's 
examining table, her feet in the metal stirrups and her pussy gaping 
open like an invitation to the whole wide world, let's pause very 
briefly to consider her new tormentor, Dr. Steadman. 
  
Michael Steadman, 28, had been a promising young physician until he got 
himself into a bit of a jam in Colorado. The charge was molesting a 
female patient - several female patients, actually - and in exchange 
for the charges being dropped by the district attorney, to spare the 
young women the ordeal of testifying in open court, Dr. Steadman agreed 
not to practice medicine in the state of Colorado. 
  
Soon after, though, he moved to Texas, to the small town of Beverly. 
Rather than open his own practice, he contacted HumanaCorpInc., the 
largest HMO operating in Texas. For a decent annual salary, he agreed 
to be a doctor-on-demand for the HMO, filling in for other doctors as 
needed. The HMO loved Dr. Steadman because he hardly ever ordered 
expensive tests and put people in the hospital for observation. And Dr. 
Steadman loved HumanaCorpInc. because it gave him freedom to roam, 
which made him harder to keep tabs on. He had access to drugs, and more 
important, he had access to young females such as Tiffany Daniels. He 
was careful this time, though, about whom he went after. He only went 
after girls he thought he could persuade not to press charges against 
him, and when he found out Tiffany wasn't a virgin, and noticed how 
agitated she was at his little bluff, he knew he had found his latest 
victim.  
  
Dr. Steadman went up front and told the receptionist that Miss 
Daniels, the only patient in the office, was almost done, and that she 
could knock off early for lunch if she wanted. He waited while Hope got 
her purse, and after she had left, he hung a little clock on the front 
door of the office suite that read "Back at 1 p.m." It was 11:30 a.m., 
and Dr. Steadman locked the door. 
  
    He paid a quick visit to the drug supply cabinet and fixed himself 
a little cocktail, and then re-entered Exam Room A. Ah, perfect, he 
thought. The little slut is doing exactly what I told her, laying 
perfectly still, scared shitless. This will be fun. 
  
Tiffany turned her head when Dr. Steadman walked back in. "Please,. 
sir, may I go now? You know I don't have any STDs, and they'll be 
missing me at school and wondering where I am," she pleaded. 
  
"Just a couple more minutes," Steadman told her as resumed his position 
at the foot of the exam table. From where he was standing, Steadman had 
the most glorious view imaginable. From Tiffany's bare feet in the 
stirrups, his eyes followed up her long legs, so smooth and tan from 
the tanning salon. Her thighs were incredible, soft with great muscle 
tone. And they met at the sweetest little pussy in the world. It was 
covered with silky blonde pubic hair _ a real blonde, imagine that! - 
and was gaping open ever so slightly, exposing her inner labia and a 
hint of her little pink clitoris. 
  
Steadman reached into his pocket. Tiffany could not see what he was 
doing, and suddenly she felt a stink in her buttocks. He'd given her a 
shot! 
  
"What was that?" she screeched. 
  
"Just a little something to relax you, my dear," Steadman said. "You 
seemed awfully uptight and nervous. This will make you feel very nice, 
I promise." 
  
"I don't want a shot," she said, and started to sit up. She got part 
way up, and then it seemed as if her body would not obey her wishes. 
Her arms gave way, and she flopped back down on the table with a thud.  
  
"What did you do to me?" she asked, panic rising in her voice.  
  
"It's a kind of muscle relaxant, dear girl," he said. "Actually, it's a 
combination of a couple of drugs that interfere with the messages from 
your brain to the muscles in your limbs. Your brain is telling your 
muscles to get up and run away, but your legs don't hear the message. 
And they won't for about an hour or so, until it wears off. No side 
effects, no after effects, I promise." 
  
"HELP!" Tiffany yelled. 
  
"No one can hear you, princess. The receptionist is gone, and the door 
is locked. It's just you and me. Fun and games.." 
  
"You pervert! Fuck you!" Tiffany yelled. 
  
"Oh, a feisty one. I like that in a girl," Steadman said. "Go ahead, 
why don't you get up and and get dressed and walk out of here, 
Tiffany?"  
  
She struggled to get up, but got as far as raising her head off the 
pillow at her end of the table. Nothing from the neck down moved, as if 
she was paralyzed. 
  
"I'm paralyzed!" Tiffany squealed. 
  
"No, you're not. Pay attention, you stupid slut. First, it's temporary. 
Second, even though your muscles aren't responding, you have full 
feeling everywhere. Here, I'll show you." Steadman raised Tiffany's 
exam gown up and bunched it at her waist. She was now completely nude 
except for the a few inches of gown scrunched around her midsection. 
Then he grabbed each one of her trim ankles in his hands and spread 
them out. The stirrups moved with her, asn Tiffany's legs were 
stretched wider and wider, making her feel more and more vulnerable. 
Finally, when she was practically doing a splits in mid-air, Steadman 
stopped pushing her legs apart, bent down and fastened his mouth onto 
Tiffany's pussy. Without warning, he began plunging his tongue in and 
out of her twat, 
occasionally pulling it out to take a big lap at her clit. The tonguing 
had the desired effect on the teenager, and she began to become 
physically aroused. The little hood covering her clit began to retract, 
and the tiny love organ began to throb. 
  
"Oh! Oh! Ohhhh! Stop that! Pleasel, stop that, for God's sake, don't do 
that!" she shrieked. 
  
"I think your little pussy likes it though, Princess," said Steadman. 
He took a breath and plunged back in. This time he stuck his index 
finger up into the poor girl and began frigging her gently, and kept 
his lips fastened on her clit, sucking and swirling it in his mouth. As 
much as she hated it, the doctor's attentions couldn't help but arouse 
the poor girl, and she began to get wetter and wetter, from his saliva 
and her own juices, which were not flowing copiously. 
  
  "Oh God, please stop!" she pleaded. "What are you doing? It's not 
right! I'm helpless, you can't do this. Ohhhhhhhh." 
  
Steadman went to work on Tiffany's gaping, defenseless cunt. He took 
her labia, now engorged with blood, very gently between his teeth and 
tugged at them ever so softly, which opened the girl up even more. He 
began to tongue-fuck her, snaking his tongue deep inside her pussy, 
setting up a rhythm as if it were a cock. Because his face was so 
deeply sealed against her pussy, the bridge of his nose was bumping 
into her exposed clit continually, running the hard little organ. At 
the same time, he touched the tip of his index finger to her asshole, 
which because of her position at the edge of the table was every bit as 
exposed as her pussy. He began to gently probe at her pink little 
rosebud of an anus. 
  
"Nooooo!" Tiffany wailed. "Don't touch me there! Please stop, you 
sicko. Oh Godddd, ohhhh ...." 
  
Steadman could feel the cheerleader's juices flowing freely, and the 
muscles insider he vagina contracting. She wasn't having an orgasm yet, 
but she was getting close, he could tell. 
  
  "I think Little Princess Tiffany wants to cum," said Dr. Steadman, 
gloating. 
  
"No! I don't! I don't! I can't help it!" she wailed. She tried 
frantically to close her legs, to stop what he was doing, but her legs 
wouldn't do what she told them to, and the sensations shooting up from 
her pelvis to her brain were overwhelming. 
  
"OK, I'll stop," said the doctor. He walked around so that he was 
standing near Tiffany's face and chest, and when she turned her face to 
look at him, she realized she was eye-level with his crotch. She could 
see his erection straining inside his pants, a huge throbbing bulge 
that she knew, with a sickening feeling in her gut, was destined for 
her in some way. 
  
The youngster was so confused. She had begged the perverted doctor to 
stop manipulating her, trying to make her cum, and he had done so. But 
now she was left panting and wanting more, wanting desperately to have 
the orgasm that had been denied to her. She couldn't possibly ask for 
him to continue, though, after begging him to cease. It would be far 
too embarrassing. 
  
  "Time to take your medical history," he said. He reached out and 
grabbed each of Tiffany's nipples, which were bigger and harder than 
they had ever been from the combined effects of the exciting 
cunnilingus, her fear, and the room's air-conditioning. He grasped each 
nipple tightly between thumb and forefinger and began to pull, just 
enough to cause the young girl a small amount of pain. 
  
"As a doctor, one of the things I'm good at is telling whether my 
patients are lying to me. So if you tell me the truth on every question 
I ask, I won't pull your nipples any harder than I am right now. But if 
you lie to me, you little bitch, I'll increase my pulling. I'll be 
careful not to do any permanent damage, but I don't think you want to 
find out how much I can hurt these precious little nips. So now I'll 
take you medical history. And nothing but the truth, cause the truth 
shall set you free. OK, maybe not free," he chortled, enjoying his 
position of power, "but it will keep you from getting your titties 
yanked. Now, how many boys have you had sex with?" 
  
"Shut up! I hate you! Leave me alone." 
  
"Oops! Wrong answer!" And Steadman squeezed the schoolgirl's nipples 
and pulled them upward about an inch, stretching her breasts in the 
process. 
  
"Ow! Owww! Stop!" Tiffany squealed. "OK, OK. I've never had sex with 
another man willingly," Tiffany started, then stopped. How could she 
tell this stranger what had happened to her? It was so humiliating, and 
he would just get more turned on listening to her story. But she 
plunged ahead. 
  
"I was drugged and blackmailed by one of my teachers last year. He was 
part of a ring of adults at school, and they did all kinds of nasty 
things to me. Then I over the summer I was baby-sitting for my cousin, 
who's 13, and he and his friends raped me. There! Are you satisfied 
now, doctor?" 
  
"Oh, it's gonna take more than that to satisfy me, sweet thing. So how 
many different cocks have you had in your pussy?" 
  
"I don't know." 
  
"Listen, I'm trying to take a comprehensive medical history," he said 
harshly. He smiled, knowing what a perversion of true medicine he was 
practicing. "How many dicks?" 
  
"Please, doctor, I really don't know. I haven't counted. A bunch, OK? A 
lot. It wasn't my idea, none of it was." 
  
"Well, that's better than I don't know," Steadman said quietly. "And 
how many cocks have you sucked?" 
  
"Same answer. A lot." 
  
"More than 20?" 
  
"Yes, God damn it, more than 20, probably. I told you, I was 
blackmailed!" Tiffany was nearly hysterical. Here she was, opened up 
and vulnerable to this cruel, manipulative man, practically paralyzed, 
and having to recount her horrible past sexual experiences for his 
twisted version of 20 Questions. 
  
"Well, well," said Steadman. "She acts like Little Miss Virgin, but 
she's really Little Miss Whore. I find it very hard to believe that 
more that 20 guys have had their dicks in that pretty little mouth of 
yours, and you didn't invite a single one in, or that a bunch of guys 
have been inside that sweet cunt, and it was all unwilling. Do you 
think you could sell that story to a jury, Miss Tiffany Daniels?" 
  
"To a jury? I don't know." She was so confused by his taunting.  
  
"It's not an idle question. Let me explain why. In just a minute I'm 
going to fuck you, Miss Daniels, while you lay there helplessly on the 
examining table. And then the drug is going to wear off, and you're 
going to get dressed and go back to your little high school and play 
Miss Queen of the Senior Class. And you're not going to breathe a word 
to anyone about what happened here today. Because if you tell anyone, 
and I get in trouble, there will probably be a trial. I will be the one 
on trial at first, but I won't be the only one. I'll hire the toughest, 
nastiest lawyer I can find, and he'll start with a full deposition of 
you, my accuser, under oath. He'll get you to tell every single detail 
of every sexual act you've ever participated in. Then we'll start 
deposing your family members, your friends, your teachers, all to 
compile the complete sexual history of Miss Tiffany Daniels, age 17. It 
will all be relevant, see, to the charges against me. I'll just be 
defending myself. Maybe, in the end, a jury will find me guilty. Or 
maybe they'll decide that a slut like you who's had sex with so many 
different guys can't be believed. Whichever way it comes out, it's a 
safe bet you won't be elected Homecoming Queen. About the only vote 
you'll win at your high school is the Girl Most Likely to Suck Seed!" 
  
Steadman cackled at his joke, and Tiffany moaned. Again, she was 
trapped. She would just have to endure whatever this horrible man did 
to her, and take it. Take him. 
  
"Since you've been fucked so many times in your pussy, I think I'll 
take you in the ass, Princess. Have you ever had a cock up your ass?" 
Before Tiffany could answer, the horny physician changed his mind. "No! 
Don't answer that! I prefer to believe that your tiny little butthole 
has never been violated, that mine will be the first cock to penetrate 
you there. If that's not the case, I don't want you spoiling my little 
fantasy." 
  
All Tiffany could do was whimper. "Please don't. Please. I'm begging 
you." 
  
Steadman started undressing, and pulled off his shoes, socks, pants and 
jockeys. His erection sprang out from his groin: stiff, huge and angry 
looking. His hard-on was just inches away from her wide, terrified blue 
eyes. 
  
"It hurts so much if I put it in dry," he informed her. "It won't hurt 
as bad if it's wet. Why don't you see if you can figure out what to do. 
You've got five minutes." He pushed his dick up to the teenager's lips, 
and Tiffany parted them, allowing him to slide inside her warm, wet 
mouth. 
  
"Thatta girl," he hissed, pushing his cock into the unwilling girl's 
mouth. "Get it all nice and wet. And here's a little hint: Since I'm 
gonna bury the entire length of this big boy all the way up in your 
rectum, it's in your best interest to get the entire length nice and 
wet. So I suggest you try deep throating me, Miss Daniels, all the way 
to the balls." As he spoke, he kept feeding more and more cockmeat past 
the cheerleader's lips and into the back of her mouth. 
  
Tiffany suddenly had a brain storm. If she could make this awful 
pervert cum now, in her mouth, then his cock would be too limp to fuck 
her in the ass. And maybe by the time he got hard again, the drug would 
be wearing off and she could escape. Accordingly, she began trying to 
give Dr. Steadman the best head she possibly could, swirling her pink 
little tongue over the bulbous helmet-head of his cock, slurping away 
frantically, and actually trying to push her face forward to get more 
of the cock into her mouth. She started to choke, but forced herself to 
stop, as the doctor's dick tickled the uvula in the back of her throat.  
  
"Just make him cum," Tiffany thought, wishing she had the power to use 
her hands to tickle his balls. "Just make him cum fast."  
  
"Ahhh, yes," Steadman moaned. "God, I LOVE being a man of medicine!"  
  
Suddenly there was a knock on the exam room door. Both Tiffany and her 
tormentor froze, although since Tiffany couldn't move anything below 
her neck, the freezing was more or less in her mind. The knock boomed 
again, and then the door burst open." 
  
"Fuckin' A!" yelled one of the workmen. "Looks like the doc's got 
himself a little party goin' on in here!" He stepped into the room, 
followed by the other worker. The two men took in the amazing sight of 
Tiffany, nude on the exam table with her legs splayed wide open, and 
the doctor's cock buried in her mouth so far that his pubic hair was 
tickling her face. 
  
"Hey doc," said the second worker. "Mind if we join ya?"  
  
"Mmppppffffff!" said Tiffany. 
 

CHAPTER THREE 
  
  Dr. Steadman whirled around at the sound of the intruders, and his 
hard-on popped out of the teenager's sweetly sucking mouth. 
  
"Looks like you got some nice action goin' here, doc," said one 
workman. "Mind if we join in?" 
  
Steadman weighed his options in a split second. He could try to bluff 
his way, tell the men to get out, and continue his ravishing of the 
drugged and vulnerable girl. But if he did that, they would get pissed 
and could report him, and unlike Tiffany, they were not easily 
blackmailed. Or he could invite them to join him and have a turn on the 
girl. It really wasn't much of a choice, he thought. 
  
"Come on in, guys," he said. "The more the merrier. Maybe not from the 
patient's standpoint, but I don't think she'll object, will you 
Princess?" 
  
Tiffany had not thought her day could get any worse than being 
drugged and anally raped by a doctor during the lunch hour. But now she 
realized she was going to have to service three men. And she was just 
enough of a snob that somehow, in her subconscious, it was worse being 
violated by common construction workers than it was by a handsome 
doctor.  
  
"Please, doctor, I'm begging you," she wailed. "Let me go. I won't 
tell. I promise." 
  
"We already discussed that. Of course you won't tell. But I've got this 
condition here" - he pointed to his throbbing dick - "and I need you to 
take care of it. And I don't want to be selfish, so we can share you 
with these two newcomers. Names, gentlemen?" 
  
The construction workers realized he was talking to them, and they 
paused while stripping out of their overalls. "I'm Elliott," said the 
shorter one, who had closely cropped red hair and a full beard. "This 
here is Gary," he said, jerking a thumb at his partner, who was tall 
and thin and had long, dirty blonde hair. 
  
"I'm Dr. Steadman, but under the circumstances you can call me Michael. 
And let me introduce our guest of honor, Miss Tiffany Daniels."  
  
The cheerleader moaned and turned her head away from the burning 
lustful gazes of the three men. 
  
"Tiffany has had a little shot that more or less paralyzes her movement 
from the neck down," explained Steadman. "She can, however, feel 
everything that happens to her. Otherwise it wouldn't be any fun, would 
it Princess?" He reached out and grabbed a nipple, which was still 
jutting up from her firm young breast. He gave it a quick tug upward, 
and Tiffany moaned. Was it pain, or shame, or lust? She hardly knew the 
difference any more. 
  
Tiffany turned her head back, and saw that Gary and Elliott were now 
naked and approaching her. Both men were massaging their dicks, which 
were growing quickly into threatening weapons. 
  
"Here's the plan, gents," the physician said. "Since I don't have any 
rubbers handy and we don't want to get the Princess pregnant, we'll be 
fucking her up the ass today. She can suck on one guy while another 
takes her up the ass. We'll have a little round-robin on Tiffany. Since 
I set it up, I go first. Any questions?" 
  
"Sounds great to me!" said Gary. "Man, she's fuckin' hot. How old is 
she?" 
  
"According to her chart, she's 17," said Steadman. "A high-school 
senior right here at Daniels High School. And a cheerleader, no less. 
Don't you just bet that all the boys at her high school follow her 
around all day with drool cups under their chins, and little Princess 
Tiffany just swishes her ass at them and laughs to herself." 
  
"Yeah, she looks like a real prick teaser," said Elliott. "Only today 
she's gonna be a real prick pleaser." 
  
Tiffany tried to remain calm as the men talked about her like a piece 
of meat, but it was hard. They were so cruel, and yet, she had to 
admit, they were so right. She was a prick tease, she knew it, she 
enjoyed it. Somehow this horrible encounter was payment, or penance or 
something, for being such a cock tease. Just as she was thinking that, 
Steadman jammed his cock back into her mouth, and she began sucking him 
again. She could see Elliott and Gary standing right behind him, 
stroking their cocks lazily with one hand, waiting their turn. 
  
There was nothing for her to do but lay there and get fucked up the 
ass, she thought. 
  
Steadman sawed his cock in and out of the helpless girl's mouth for 
several minutes; the exam room filled with wet, slurping sounds. 
Tiffany had given up her plan of trying to make her cum in her mouth; 
even if she managed it with one, she'd never pull it off with all 
three. Soon, the doctor popped out and moved to the end of the table, 
between Tiffany's widely spread, immobile legs. 
  
"Let's scoot you down a little," he said, and grabbing her by the hips, 
he pulled her pelvis down toward the end of the examining table. This 
had the effect of forcing her legs apart even farther. When he was 
done, Tiffany Daniels' tight little pink bumhole was right at the end 
of the table, perfectly lined up for Steadman's massive dick. 
  
"Here we go, Princess," Steadman said, and he pushed the bulbous head 
of his cock up against her sphincter. 
  
Tiffany started to cry out, but was stopped because Gary had stuffed 
his cock into her mouth as soon as she opened it. He did not smell as 
clean as the doctor, she thought, as he rammed his erection into her. 
"Mppfffff!" she screamed, as Steadman penetrated her young asshole.  
  
  "Ohh, man, that is soooo tight!" the doctor exclaimed as he fed his 
cock up the cheerleader's rectum, pushing it in inch by inch. Even 
though she had lubricated the tool as best she could, Tiffany still 
felt as if it was ripping her guts apart. But Gary was working up a 
rhythm in her mouth even as Steadman was starting to pull back out, 
then shove his erection back in again. 
  
"Nice ass, doc?" asked Elliott. 
  
"The finest," said Steadman. "You can't believe how tight it is. Hey 
listen, since you're not doing anything except standing there yanking 
your crank, why don't you change the station on that radio over there 
and find us some good gang-bang music?" 
  
"Sure thing, doc," replied the workman. He started fiddling with the 
knob on the boom box, tuning it away from the light classical station. 
After several spurts of static, the sound of one of the most popular 
songs of the fall of 1999, Lou Bega's "Mambo No.. 5," filled the exam 
room. 
  
  "One, two, three, four, five/ 
  Everybody in the car come on let's drive ..." sang Bega.  
  
"Yeah, keep it there, I like this," said Steadman. 
  
Tiffany Daniels choked on the blue-collar cock that was reaming her 
mouth, banging against the back of her throat. Her asshole was on fire 
from Dr. Steadman's steady beat, penetrating her tiny orifice over and 
over as she lay there helplessly. And now this damn song playing!  
  
Like all high school students, Tiffany had heard  the sexy Top 40 song 
"Mambo No. 5" over and over. Even though cheerleading hadn't actually 
started, she and some of the girls had gotten together 
informally and planned a half-time routine where they would dance to 
the song. They had practiced the last couple of weeks after school in 
the panelled rec room in Tiffany's basement, swaying their hips sexily 
and giggily as they choreographed it. Through the dim haze of the drugs 
and the humiliation, it occurred to her that now this song would be 
ruined for her, and that she would not be able to tell her friends why. 
Every time it played and she got up to dance at half-time, she would 
flash back to this awful medical examination. 
  
  "A little bit of Monica in my life/ 
  A little bit of Erica by my side/ 
  A little bit of Rita is all I need/ 
  A little bit of Tina is what I see," Bega sang. 
  
  Steadman had now penetrated the poor girl's bowels completely with 
his rampaging cock, and was slapping his stomach against her exposed 
ass in time to the tune.Her legs were spread wide in the metal 
stirrups, with her knees pulled back almost even with her big tits, 
which were jiggling in time to the butt-slamming she was receiving. 
Gary was working his prick in and out of her unwilling mouth, and 
Tiffany just had to lay there and take it. 
  
  Suddenly and very unexpectedly, Elliott started singing along with 
the tune. 
  
  " A little bit of Tiffany —  fuck her butt/ 
  A little bit of Tiffany —  What a slut!" 
  
  Gary and Steadman burst out laughing. "Cool, man!" yelled Gary. "Sing 
it, dude!" 
  
    "A little bit of Tiffany, make her squirm 
  A little bit of Tiffany, give her sperm!" 
  
    Eliott timed his invented verses so that he was singing them right 
over the correct spots in "Mambo No. 5." Tiffany was mortified. Being 
sexually used and degraded was horrible enough, but then to be laughed 
at! How humiliating! How would she ever be able to join her fellow 
cheerleaders at half-time and dance to this song that would, in her 
mind, forever have these awful lyrics about her." 
  
The arrival of the workmen had spoiled Steadman's plans for the girl. 
He had intended to cum in her mouth first - oh yes, he knew exactly 
what she was doing in trying to get him off orally - and then, after 
waiting a few minutes and tormenting her, he had intended to get 
himself hard again and take her in the ass. His theory was that having 
just cum, he would be able to ride her ass for a good 20 to 30 minutes, 
because there would be no semen built up. But the interruption by the 
workers had spoiled this, and as a result, Steadman found himself on 
the verge of cumming after only a few minutes of hammering his cock 
into the helpless cheerleader. 
  
"Oh, man, I'm gonna cum!" he announced to the room. Poor Tiffany could 
feel the mushroom-like head of the doctor's erection swell up even 
larger, and she grunted with a feeling of fullness as he rammed into 
her over and over. "Oh, fuck, fuck FUCK!" he yelled, and began to empty 
a torrent of boiling seed up inside the girl's rectum. 
  
  "A little bit of Tiffany, what a whore/ 
  "A little bit of Tiffany, her backdoor," Elliott sang along with 
Bega.  
  
Tiffany gasped as she felt the penis explode in her bowels. She could 
feel the monster pushing in relentlessly, gushing out spurt after spurt 
of sticky semen that coated her insides.  She moaned in helpless self- 
pity, and quickly realized that her moaning was increasing the pleasure 
she was giving to Gary's cock as it thrust into her mouth. Every time 
she moaned, it was like she was giving him a "hummer." God, she 
couldn't win!  
  
  "A little bit of Tiffany, in so deep/ 
  A little bit of Tiffany, make her weep/ 
  A little bit of Tiffany, up the bum/ 
  A little bit of Tiffany, make her cum," sang the demented workman.  
  
"Hey, that's a great idea!" Steadman said. He had withdrawn his dick, 
which was rapidly wilting, and Tiffany's ravaged butthole gaped open. 
"I'm gonna make her cum while you guys keep doing her. Gary, you come 
around here and have a go at this sweet little teenaged ass. It ought 
to be nice and slick and easy to fuck now that I've creamed up the 
inside. Elliott, you can keep singing if you want, cause I love the way 
you're doing that song, but you can have a shot at her mouth now!"  
  
The men rotated, like members of a volleyball team after a point. Gary 
pulled his cock out of Tiffany's mouth and walked around to the base of 
the table, where her exposed asshole provided the perfect target for 
his throbbing piece of meat. Elliott, who was humming along while Bega 
sang a verse, waiting for another chorus, stepped up to Tiffany's face 
at the head of the table. Dr. Steadman, his dick now drooping, leaned 
over Tiffany's crotch and plunged his face hard down into her pussy. 
  
"Ohhhhh my Godddd!" Tiffany bellowed when she felt the doc's expert 
tongue make contact with her clit. The girl had been sexually revved 
up, and hadn't even been how good it would feel to have her hungry 
snatch stimulated. 
  
"I got a little change of plans, babe," Elliott informed her. "I can 
get my chick to suck my dick any old day, but she won't give me a 
rimjob no matter what. Since you don't have much of a say in things, 
why don't you stick that sweet tongue of yours right up Uncle Elliott's 
nasty old asshole?" With that, the construction worker turned around, 
presenting his backside to Tiffany's face, and spread his cheeks with 
both hands. Tiffany was staring right into his horrible asshole. 
  
"Do it, princess!" Steadman ordered. "Or I'll grab those nipples in 
some tweezers and let you feel some real pain!" 
  
Hating her powerlessness, Tiffany stuck her tongue out, and Elliot 
shuffled backward, impaling the girl's tongue deep up his ass. "Oh 
yeah, baby, work that mouth! Ream my ass!" 
  
"A little bit of Tiffany, suckin' ass/ 
  A little bit of Tiffany, got no class/ 
  A little bit of Tiffany, she's so young/ 
  A little bit of Tiffany, what a tongue!" 
  
  The three men all laughed uproariously at Elliott's sick satire of 
"Mambo No. 5." Gary was hammering away on the spread-eagled 
adolescent's ass, but his cock didn't hurt nearly as bad as the first 
one because her anal opening was now well-greased with semen. Steadman 
used his hands to pry apart her sticky labia, and worked his tongue 
frantically up and down Tiffany's ever-stiffening clit. She could feel 
her pussy juices flowing freely now, running downward and further 
lubricating the cock that was reaming her asshole. Elliott sang loudly 
and lewdly, wiggling his hips from side to side while encouraging 
Tiffany to dig ever deeper with her tongue. 
  
"A little bit of Tiffany, what a girl/ 
  A little bit of Tiffany, do that swirl." 
  
  She knew he was referring to the way she was swirling her tongue up 
inside his disgusting ass. But she no longer cared, about the rimjob 
she was being forced to give, or the forced fucking she was enduring. 
All of Tiffany Daniels' attention was focused on her pussy, 
specifically on her clit, which Dr. Steadman was flicking back and 
forth with his tongue, bringing her closer and closer to orgasm. 
  
"Mmmmmmmmm, ohhhh, mmmmmmm!" she moaned, giving a little anal thrill to 
Elliott. 
  
"Oh, man, I'm gonna shoot inside the bitch!" Gary shouted, and for the 
second time that day Tiffany felt a male penis swell inside her ass and 
begin to convulse. The feeling of fullness, which at first had been 
painful, was now part of the overall sexual experience, and closely 
associated in her reeling mind with the powerful feelings radiating 
from her young crotch. 
  
  "Ohhhh! Ohhh!" Tiffany was practically yelling into Elliott's ass as 
her orgasm approached. "Hey, buddy, let her vocalize!" Steadman told 
Elliott, who at first didn't understand what he meant, but who then 
stepped away. 
  
"Ohh, yessss, that feels so gooood!" Tiffany wailed, her mouth free for 
the first time in quite a while. "Yes! Yes Yes!" The only thing she 
could move was her head, and now, without even knowing what she was 
doing, she began lifting it and dropping it to the table. "Don't stop! 
Don't stop!" she screamed. 
  
Steadman reached down with his thumb and rammed it up inside her pussy 
while he sucked on her clit as hard as he could. It sent the 
cheerleader careening over the edge, driving her into a fierce orgasm. 
Her nipples were as hard as rocks, her chest went bright red, and she 
pounded the back of her head over and over onto the table. "God! God! 
Jesus! Jesus! Fuck! Fuck!" she screamed as her pussy convulsed over and 
over. 
  
"Man, she's havin' a head-bangin' orgasm," Gary observed, watching the 
youngster's spasms. 
  
  After about 20 seconds, Tiffany quieted. It was Elliott's turn at her 
ass, but by this point, it was almost anti-climactic for everyone. 
Except Elliott, of course. He began plunging into the girl as hard and 
as fast as he could. Steadman, his face all greasy with her love 
juices, bent down and began nibbling her clit again, and Tiffany 
rocketed quickly to a second orgasm, then a third, then a fourth. She 
felt the third cock of the day start to cum inside of her, and this 
time she had a simultaneous orgasm with the singing workman, who was no 
longer singing, just turning red in the face and grunting loudly. 
  
Finally, they were done. Steadman told the workers that the drug would 
be wearing off soon, and they dressed and cleared out, but not before 
each gave her a deep and lingering French kiss that disgusted Tiffany 
all over again. By the time she was able to twitch her legs a little, 
Steadman too was dressed, once more looking professional.  
  
"The drugs are wearing off, Princess, but remember our deal. Not a word 
to anyone, or I'll drag your past sexual history out for the whole 
world to see. I think a little bitch that cums as hard as you just did 
has some real experience that a 17-year-old wouldn't want everyone to 
know about." 
  
"I won't tell, I promise," Tiffany told the doc, as she realized she 
could flex fingers. In 20 minutes, she was dressed, and Steadman was 
helping her off the table, making sure she could stand and walk 
properly before he let her get in her car and drive. He didn't want her 
driving with the drug still impairing her motor coordination. 
  
"After all," he thought with a smile, "that would be irresponsible."  
  
THE END 
"Are you crazy? 
Are you high? 
Or just an ordinary guy? 
Have you done all you can do? 
Are you with me, doctor?" 
— Steely Dan
