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Denise put her ear against the door and listened closely.Those damned mobile phones. Denis had never needed one. There was no-onefor him to phone. That didn't mean that no-one else had one though.She was talking to someone and didn't sound as though she was enjoyingit. The main thing Denise kept hearing was "no". She didn't know whatthat meant - other than the obvious, but in the context she was hearingit from Stephanie, there was little to go on.She waited until Stephanie had stopped talking and the murmur wasreplaced by a different sound, much less measured and much more worrying.She opened the door and stepped quietly into the room.Stephanie was still on the bed, her clutch bag before her and a smallsilver mobile was on the bed before her. She looked up at Denise, hertear-stained face evidence of the phone-call."What's going on?" That was Paul." What was?" asked Denise, trying not to let on that she'd been eaves-dropping."On the phone. He's pretty mad." Barking," said Denise."No,. Her uniform already removed, she was lithe and slender, flat chested, flat bellied, and just her proud Mons-Venus rose, a lovely mark of her girlhood."This is Susan Tate Doctor," Nurse Bishop announced, helping the nervous girl to climb up onto the examination table and then securing each of the child's slim limbs in turn to the its corners.Jeremy nodded and watched her limbs part while he rubbed a light ointment into his hands, a recent innovation from the chemist in the kitchens and something he'd been told he would enjoy. The lotion made his flesh tingle slightly, but not unduly. However, he could well imagine what it might feel like placed on more tender flesh and grinned in anticipation."Miss Marchant had requested that Susan should have clitoral development," Anne murmured, also eyeing the cute little chink between the girl's legs. Her labia was hardly pronounced at all, and the child's inner lips were slender petals that almost naturally stayed flat to her skin. At the apex.
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