FREAKSVILLE

No pic on this one but any Dmitry's one would fit. Enjoy. There will be a part two.

FREAKSVILLE

Amanda Pearson, M.D. snapped her cell phone closed, jumped up in the air and screamed like a little schoolgirl. She’d done it. SHE’D DONE IT! The good doctor, with a full futa medical degree had been shuttling around from one city to another, getting her residency done and then hired an expensive head hunter to get a primo job.

A year went by and fifty thousand dollars left her now meager bank account. Still working fifteen hour days just to pay her school and living bills and no new job, she kept her spirits high. Amanda always came home so tired that she usually showered quickly and flopped into bed.

Her alarm was an unwelcome intrusion. Yet, trying to keep a positive attitude, she would get ready for work and head to the downtown clinic. Work was different every day. Patients ranged from penile warts to syphilis to excessive curvature and even ED, all in dick girls and women.

But this day was to be different. After seeing several patients, one ten year old with a straw stuck down her urethra (these silly kids!), she took a break and grabbed some coffee. As she sat reading one of the old, well read magazines in the doctor’s lounge, Nina, the front desk nurse came in.

“Um, Doctor Pearson?”

“Yes Nina?”

“There is a patient here that I think you might want to see. Um, Doctor’s Adams and Vasquez are busy and I thought you’d see her.”

Glancing at her watch, Amanda sighed, noting she still had twenty minutes on her break and set her coffee mug down. “Okay, which room?”

“Examination room A,” the nurse answered.

Opening the door she saw a cut teenage girl sitting demurely on the chair. “Hello, I’m Doctor Pearson.” Looking at the file, noting the name but not see anything wrong she looked up. “So, how are you feeling Darla is it?” She grabbed some latex gloves and put them on.

“Fine I guess.”

“Good. What can I help you with today?”

The girl squirmed at bit nervously. “Um, I just want to know if I’m normal.”

Amanda smirked and sat next to the girl on her stool. She’d heard that question a million times with young futas.

“I see. Well then, let’s find out. Can you undress for me?”

“What? Like now?”

“I certainly can’t answer your question without seeing what you think isn’t normal.”

Standing slowly, Darla began to unbutton her blouse.

“Shouldn’t you be showing me what’s down there?” Amanda asked, pointing at the pronounced bulge in the girl’s jeans.

“That’s not my problem.”

“Oh,” Amanda uttered, surprised. “Why don’t you tell me while you continue to strip.”

“Er, it’s better if I show you,” Darla said, shrugging her blouse off her arms. Her B cups were safely ensconced in her plain white bra. She worked the clasp and the straps fell down her arms.

Amanda watche