‘She keeps on pestering me for months now, when she finally could become as beautiful as me. So when I was wrapping up her birthday presents just now it became clear to me, that what she really wants, is her … circumcision.’

She knew the law: Between twelve and sixteen consent of mother and daughter, afterwards the girl can do whatever she wants, don’t even think of touching her, when she is younger than twelve. Well, Sunday was her twelfth birthday, so no excuses here, which started out lame anyway as the Sunday was already lost to any recreation, having agreed to do Marly’s daughter.

That was the second beauty approaching, less sure of herself or the purpose of her visit, but stunning nonetheless in her white trouser, pink T shirt and black leather jacket, which looked like two numbers too big on her, nearly hiding her pretty freckled face framed by straight golden hair.

‘Hi there, you must be Carol and …Marly didn’t give me your name.’

‘It’s Rosie.’

Her voice just a meek whisper.

‘What’s in that beautiful bag of yours, Carol?’

Her smile was dazzling, her demeanour know-it-all endearing, even more so because of its obvious naivety.

‘It’s complicated to open, but it has several compartments … Ah, here we go. There is my clit pump, which we kept on using since I was seven, to make sure that my clit is big enough for my necklace. That is the preservation jar. And Mom gave me her old clamp, which was used for cutting her, so if I’m done the same way, we are connected, you know. And shaving foam, razors, some pads and a second panty …’

‘Wow, that’s quite a collection. You come well prepared, Carol. But you won’t need panties afterwards, actually better you don’t use them for a while. You‘re wearing one at the moment?’

She lifted her dress, smiling proudly about her new sexy G-string, which barely covered her little cunny.

‘And a pretty one, would you mind taking it off, so I could see your clit?’

‘Here?’

The wavering in her voice betrayed that her mask of control could easily fray at the edges.

‘Don’t worry, no one’s here except us.’

Rosie had started chewing her fingernails, while looking curiously at the sight, which the peeled off G-string revealed: A clam with a red pearl on top, Carol’s pumped up clit prominently visible on top of two otherwise barely open two outer lips.

‘That’s a very well trained clit, you have here. I hope you had a lot of fun with it.’

Carol’s giggle was two parts naughty, one part nervous.

‘Mommy always told me I shouldn’t get too used to it, if I really want to look like her.’

‘Rosie, what’s with you? You don’t look very happy. That’s your special day: smile!’

‘Ok.’

Her blue eyes started filling with tears, nothing was ok with this poor girl.

‘Agh, come here.’

My amble bosom shook under Rosie’s sobs. Carol looked away, her face a mixture of commiseration, her own fear and a pinch of contempt.

‘Rosie, it is your decision, not your Mom’s. I will not cut you if I’m not convinced that you really want this.’

Her tear streaked face looked up in despair.

‘No, please I need this, I really have to …’

My sceptical look stopped her.

‘If I have it done, I can see Loulou again and therefore I really want it.’

‘Who’s Loulou?’

Her face shone with unmitigated adoration.

‘She’s this French exchange student and she was baby sitting me and then Mom found us …’

‘Yes?’

Her downcast eyes and the reddening of her cheeks were just too much. My knees nearly folded under my considerable backside.

‘…doing naughty things and threatened that she would be kicked out of the country and I won’t ever see her again except if I make sure that this never can happen again.’

That beast Marly, blackmailing her own daughter. Not much of a free decision here. But what the heck, as good a reason as any, perhaps even the best one: love.

‘What’s with the trousers? Didn’t your Mom tell you to wear a skirt?’

Nearly tearing up again.

‘It’s my favourite trousers. She said as punishment I’ll have to wear them and she wants to see them destroyed with a big red spot.’

I had to hold her again. It was all a bit too much for her.

‘Is it going to hurt a lot?’

I could barely make out her whisper emanating between my womanly folds.

‘Yes, I won’t lie to you. It is going to hurt. And there will be a point, where you’ll think you can’t take any more of it. But you will. And then there will be the pain afterwards, when you take the first piss, the first shit …’

‘Mrs Adams!’

Stuffy, seemingly disinterested Carol had listened well.

‘Well, I won’t mince my words because I want to make sure that you know what you sign up to. This is a one way ticket, girls. But every time it hurts it will remind you of the reason, why you wanted to have your pussy cut. And every time you feel like shouting in pain, you become more a woman and less a girl.’

Both girls nodded solemnly.

‘And now I have to see your pussy, Rosie.’

She carefully folded her trousers, hanging them over my arm, their colour contrasting nicely with the shiny blue of Carol’s G string, whose dampness burned in my hand. No panties in sight, just a tuft of downy blond hair. Without even being asked she opened her outer lips, revealing a rather small, basically uncovered clit crowning two small inner lips.

‘Well, well, that’s going to be difficult.’

‘No cutting?’

Her outcry was equal measure despair of never seeing her Loulou again and hope of being spared the pain and loss. This French siren had incidentally done a good job, no hymen to be found and obviously for some time already, so probably their tryst went on longer than even Marly suspected. Talking of which:

‘You know that you’re mother wants you to be closed up?’

‘Totally?’

Rosie’s face became white as a sheet, now even Carol looked horrified.

‘There still will be a small hole for pee and blood.’

‘Blood?’

‘When you get your period …’

Bleeding from her pussy seemed to horrify her even more than the eminent destruction of her sex.

‘Didn’t your Mommy explain you about periods and stuff?’

Carol had regained her prissy school teacher composure.

‘Ok girls, off you go to the changing room next to the nurses’ office. And Carol, while you explain everything about periods and ‘stuff’ …’

I couldn’t resist, I had to mock this little poser.

‘…shave off Rosie’s hair …’

‘Oh, no, not my hair!’

Ah, like all girls her age Rosie was proud of her new sign of maturing.

‘Hey girl, it has to be all clean for me, so I can make you beautiful, ok? And the hair will all grow back, I promise, even more so and it will cover even the scar, so no one will recognise that you’re cut, if you don’t want to.’

They were already on their way, when I called after them: ‘And Carol, use the clit pump to make Rosie’s clit a little bigger. I’ll join you in a second, just finishing my cigarette.’

If smoking won’t kill me, it’s going to be my bad conscience for all the destroyed, perfectly healthy pussies … often than not in the name of beauty. First clit rings, then hoodectomies and now clitoridectomies, fashion had a strange way of becoming convention. Rare the woman, who still had an unmodified pussy.

The blue of Carol’s G string hurt my eyes in the glaring sunshine of a Sunday morning. I shouldn’t, but still, too tempting to resist: a smell of lavender, sweet mushrooms and sour peaches, God I was tripping on both ends, my saliva matching the overflow in my pussy. I needed another dose: The crotch of Rosie’s trousers revealed a yellow spot that reminded me of Marly’s flavour: tangy, acidic, wild, in her daughter’s case with a hint of sweaty fear.

Marly, dream and nightmare rolled into one, the first girl I ever cut. She wanted to get rid of her clit as a sign of her rebel girl attitude, her mother insisted on infibulation as the condition for her being allowed to go out with her much older friends basically every night. She was thirteen. I came just from nursing school, only basically trained in pussy modifications, as the policy, to have them performed by school nurses rather than grimy tattoo parlours, was still a recent development. She was feisty, refused my offer for local anaesthetic. She wanted to feel loosing it, as she said, she wanted to feel every stitch of her closing, so she could hate her mother more.

I still remember my trembling hands, the smell of my sweaty armpits, disinfectant and pee mixed with the steely tang of the never ending stream of blood. And her screaming, it took me nearly one hour and she didn’t stop screaming. I kept asking her: ‘It’s not too late I still can give you the anaesthetic.’ And she kept shaking her head. The bite marks on the rolled up towel showed for days, every time I touched them, my pussy clenched. Even after she had healed, she visited me daily. She wanted me that I show her how to train her asshole. Instead she trained me as her lover. When she was sixteen, I was putty in her hand, craving her visits as much as fearing them, for I was convinced everyone knew of my entanglement with a pupil ten years my junior and they just waited for the final proof to kick me out for statutory rape. And proof there was, because as soon as my pussy closed around her fist my shouts of joy couldn’t possibly be contained by the soft cushions of the gyn chair. It was therefore easy for her to blackmail me into performing an abortion for her. Incredibly enough she had managed to get fucked through her small hole and of course she ended up being pregnant. I had to cut her open and, on her request, sew her shut again. This time she just breathed and looked at me the whole time. And although she flinched two or three times and the bite marks told their own story, it seemed the painful attention to her mangled pussy gave her pleasure.

And then she disappeared … and took my heart with her. Only to punch at the dark empty place fifteen years later by reappearing and offering her daughter for the same treatment. I had refused to meet her. After all, the pudgy, but sexy girl of my twenties had disappeared to make place for a … fat old cow. Seeing Marly reborn, here, just 100 yards from me, where giggles could be heard from Carol’s shaving of this deliciously innocent pussy, it was too much, too much … I had started the next cigarette, caught in my reminiscence. Time to concentrate and help these girls … to grow.

I found them in the shower, both girls wet and naked, Rosie screaming with laughter, as Carol tried to fix the clit pump. She turned around, her wet little boobies with their stiff rosy nipples betraying that playing with Rosie’s pussy had quite an effect on her.

‘It doesn’t hold, it always slips off.’

‘Ok, I want your bum at the wall, bend your knees a little and present your cunt, Rosie.’

I liked to use that word with young girls, it always shocked them to hear it spoken by an adult.

‘When I push the pump unto Rosie’s clit you press five times very fast, ok?’

Pinching one of her surprisingly large brown nipples on her flat chest had her push out her pelvis, opening her lips. Rosie winced, when I dug into her sensitive flesh, an expression suddenly replaced by one of utter astonishment, the three big Os of her eyes and mouth trying to disappear into her neck, while her hands smashed against the tiles in an attempt to find leverage as her legs failed her.

‘Wow.’

Carol was mesmerized as Rosie’s pussy seemed to disgorge itself.

‘Three more pumps.’

The gurgling sound was Rosie’s attempt to breathe again, while her hairs flew from left to right as she slowly slipped along the wall to the wet floor.

‘Disengage the pump and leave the sucker on her clit till it falls off by itself. Don’t touch it, Rosie!’

Carol managed to grab Rosie’s hands, whose rather uncoordinated attempt to grab her pulsating crotch was cut short, not the least by the next wave of too much fun, which left her body flop around the wet tiles like a tuna finishing its last breath as the sucker clattered to the floor.

‘When she can walk again, join me both next door, ok?’

Carol’s smile, as she wrangled with Rosie’s arms gravitating to her blown up clit, faded slowly as she recognised the fateful moment had arrived.

I had just finished moving the two gyn chairs next to each other and lowering their backsides as much as possible – I found it less stressful for the girls, if they can’t see it -, when they both turned around the corner rather timidly, Carol carrying her bag, holding out the clit pump demonstratively.

‘Shouldn’t my clit …’

‘No honey, it’s big enough …’

Her lips quivering, she opened her bag to take out the preservation jar, putting the clit pump back in its place, the sullen look on her face finally registering with my busy self.

‘Oh girl, don’t you worry, I will make sure that your little knob gives you one last pleasure, ok?’

Ah the smile, relief and fear and hope all mixed into one small movement of her lips, which ended in a sad little twinkle in her eyes.

‘Ok, time to hop on the chairs girls, Carol on the left … Rosie, have you been to the toilet?’

Her x legged swaying and biting of her fingernails, so enticing in combination with the two red spots on her cheeks, was a give away, but …

‘Oh, she peed just now in the shower.’

Carol certainly was a telltale.

‘Like yourself! She peed while shaving me. It went all over my toes.’

Rosie had woken up from her reverie, climbing on her own chair.

‘Well, you two naughty girls.’

The giggles were just boiling up, when I put their feet into the stirrups and closed the first restraints, thus they came out more like worried sighs.

‘Now I want you to look at each other and grab each others free hand. There we go!’

Arm and head restraints fixed … next the towels.

‘Open your mouths! This might taste a little bit strange …’

My special concoction, valerian spirit, some drops on the towels, always works …

‘… but believe me, it helps you concentrate. Breath in, breath out, through your nose, every time you breath in, press your hands together, yes like this, breath in, breath out, very good …’

My hands on their damp heads - shower games mingling with sweaty fear –, I positioned my face next to theirs, their lovely young girls’ smell convincing my knees that squatting was not beyond their possibilities.

‘Ok, keep on breathing and listen very carefully. You’re pain sisters now. You help each other through the pain. Never stop looking into each others eyes, don’t close them, even if you start crying … and you will. Pour all your love, all your support through your eyes into your sister, when she is hurting, ok? And help her breath, breath for her, with her, so she finds the rhythm again, in, out, in, out …’

They were doing lovely, their breathing had slowed, their eyes worried but steady on each other.

‘I will first fix your mother’s clamp on your pussy lips and clit, Carol, this will pinch a little, but not hurt …’

Liar, to clamp an enlarged clit like that always feels like pinching off your little toe.

‘… and while we wait, I cut first one of your small lips, Rosie, ok?’

Rosie’s face crunched up in fear and her breathing increased.

‘You see, Carol, you have to help her, tell her with your eyes that everything will be ok, and keep breathing slowly, yes, you’re doing very good …’

My protesting knees barely carried me around the table, where I found the famous ‘family’ clamp, laid out by dear Carol. What an organized 12 year old! The clamp was still working, a new one would have been preferable, but what the heck … Gloves? Not today, I wanted to feel their blood on my hands, to feed my bad conscience even more than usual. A shiver, when I first opened her outer lips, the inner lips more prominent then I thought. They would have developed into nice flaps, if only we’d allowed that. Pulling them out opened her little hole, look there, a little juice bubble! In all her fear this little minx was creaming. Pulling a little more and here it was: her hymen, still fairly thick, the little jaggy hole in the middle bathed in juice. A little touch with my small finger, did she moan? The string of juice breaks, when I approach my mouth. Gee, what a taste, sweet innocence in its purest form, my thighs clenching on their own nearly brought me off. Now I had to do a breathing exercise myself to calm me down.

The craziest thing, however, was her clit, nearly half the size of my small finger, the hood reduced to a small ring of skin on its base. I so wanted to suck this little marvel. Instead I started closing the clamp, pushing it into her pussy as deep as possible. This didn’t work: the clit wasn’t out far enough. Holding the clamp in position, the haemostat, which had suddenly appeared in my right hand – the beauty of experience -, grabbed the clit at its base, pulling it out till even the small hood was on the outside of the clamp and snap!

‘Keep on looking into Rosie’s eyes, Carol, it’s ok to scream, but don’t close your eyes! Rosie help her breathe, you’re doing good girls.’

Well, no. They both whimpered and breathed like a freight train trying to climb Mount Everest. Holding each one of their cold feet, I whispered to them:

‘In and out, in and out … Very good. I understand, it is difficult to see pain and not also feel it, but you have to be strong for your sister. So, do not absorb it. Rather think that she is approaching an orgasm, so feel happy for her, cheer her on “go for it, go for it”, and help her breath slowly, ok?’

They were calming down, although Carol must have been in considerable pain from her clamp. Opening the stirrups of Rosie’s chair a little further showed me her inner pedals, still wet with juice and pee. This time I abstained from savouring, chickening out from the prospect of the too painful memories of Marly’s taste. I had to decide if closing her inner lips would be necessary or fusing her outer lips would be a sufficiently convincing infibulation for her sadist mother. I would hate to have to catheterize her, which is always advisable to prevent any blockage of the pee hole. But a young girl running around with a pee bag? No fun! Ok, cauterize small lips to prevent any closing, start incision of outer lips close to clit stump so it all grows together sufficiently away from her pee hole, with the added benefit that jiggling her mount will stimulate what’s left of her clit.

I had started cutting without even recognising it. Rosie’s sudden whimpering reminded me to stop just before her clit. The smell of burnt flesh was already dissipating, when the pain registered with the poor girl and she started thrashing and screaming.

‘Carol, you’re doing fine, breath for her, in, out, in …’

This time they really coped well, although sniffing, Rosie’s tear streaked face was back to a certain relieved, if pained expression in a surprisingly short time, which I used prodding Carol’s clamped girl parts. Her beautiful clit had grown even more, hard like a little oblong pebble stone, which was turning from bright red to blue. Touching it produced a clear reaction from Carol’s little asshole, which seemed to have developed its own rhythm of appearing and disappearing between her clenched ass cheeks. Let’s see, what happens if I do this. Oops. Her two little flaps, which also had fattened quite nicely, were lying in my open hand, still warm to the touch, rubbery, seeping small drops of blood, the thin red line next to my scalpel too close to the clamp for any stitching. Well, I had planned cauterization anyway, so a scream and a moment of rattling stirrups latter it was done, and look at that: her asshole pulsed out and staid there, when a slow rivulet of clear liquid appeared behind the clamp and tickled its way across that pushed out sphincter. Beautiful.

‘Rosie, come on, help her, breath with her, Carol don’t close your eyes, look at Rosie, she is telling you, how proud she is of you, how much she admires your bravery…’

Carol was still shaking, hiccupping, when Rosie’s second lip hang only by a threat on her doomed clit and with a short sizzle the upwelling blood was stopped in its tracks along the pinched haemostat. Her concentration on helping Carol was so strong that she only grunted in surprise and then kept on whimpering, while Carol valiantly tried to support her by controlling her own breath.

‘You are incredible, girls.’

I had stepped around again stroking their wet hair, drying their faces.

‘Ok, blow your nose, Rosie, now you, Carol. Very good. And slow breaths again, in and out …’

I added some more drops of valerian spirit to the towels. I don’t know, how the fashion had started to cut clits without anaesthetic, but it must have been about the time I left nursing school. We still trained by cutting each other with local numbing. Some said they only felt a strange tugging at the back of their assholes. I remember it like yesterday: for me it was the craziest orgasm ever, one flash of piercing fiery burning centred in my crotch, which seemed to turn into shards of tearing, joyful cramps somewhere emanating from the back of my skull. It let me loose all control like these diarrhoeas, where you vomit and pee and shit all at once, which to the embarrassment of my colleague I actually did.

‘I know it burns, but this is the moment, so I want you to savour it. You lose your clit only once in your life. Let it happen. Don’t crunch up. It’s going to be one big explosion of pain and pleasure, let it flow through you, let it overwhelm you, scream, shout, don’t hold back. And be happy for your pain sister, when she is experiencing this unique experience. Tell her with your eyes, how beautiful she looks at that moment of loss and gain. And breathe for her, so she finds back to herself, to you, so she can help you as well.’

There was still a small whimper now and then, but they were clinging to each other, their eyes barely blinking, their breaths synchronized. Carol’s clit was definitely on the blue side now. She didn’t react, when I touched it. Grabbing it with the haemostat three millimetres above the clamp, I warned her:

‘Carol, now!’

These new ceramic scalpels are just unbelievable, it’s like cutting butter. There might have been a little moment of resistance, when I cut the stem, but just a fraction. By the time Carol’s clit swam in the preservation jar, a keening sound became ever more prominent, before it suddenly stopped the same moment I turned around to set the three stitches I had foreseen. The whole area of her sex was wet with fluid, which kept on spurting from behind the clamp. Nowadays even twelve year olds squirt, when I was young, it was somehow the privilege of middle aged women.

‘Carol, open your eyes, don’t hold back, Carol …’

The moment she opened her eyes again, the screams started, short piercing screams only muffled by the towel, each time just an instant after her perineum pulsed, her asshole having disappeared between her cheeks.

‘Very good girl, let it all out …’

The screams changed to one continuous howl the moment the first stitch went in. Knot, second one, knot, third one, knot, open the clamp slowly, only some drops of blood, stitches are holding, clean the area. Pity, I liked the smell of pee and juice and blood. Her perineum was still drawn in, the asshole, however, had reappeared. She was strangely silent.

‘Carol, breathe! Breathe, Carol! We’re finished. You’re all beautiful, even more so then before. Rosie needs you now.’

A rattling breath in, her saucer like eyes blinked and she started crying, a soft, slow kind of crying, like a thank you to Rosie, whose eyes were smiling at her, nearly forgetting her own fear.

A fear, however, which grew exponentially the moment I grabbed her clit with the haemostat. Luckily the clit pump had helped a little as small clits were a pain to cut. You always had troubles getting a grip on them.

‘Rosie, now!’

One short slice downward and her pussy opened up like a flower behind the falling butterfly, which a moment before had still been attached to her sex. That gurgling sound, which had already enticed me in the shower: I had to look up, although there was more blood, then I had hoped. Being restrained it seemed impossible, nevertheless her head tried to disappear into her neck again, before it snapped up the same instant her little hole closed with an audible smack accompanied by coughed up shouts. They turned into squeaky ‘please, please, please …’ barely audible behind the towel as I cut into the inside of her outer lips to create the wounds to seal her sex. I had planned to set the first stitch through her outer lips and her clit stump, but as always: small clits were deceptive and I had first to still the bleeding with two dissolvable stitches, before I could return to my original plan. Some of that new surgical glue and five stitches should be enough to have the two outer lips grow together beautifully.

‘Rosie, look at me, please Rosie.’

Carol had spit out her towel, what a girl! She must have been still in considerable pain herself and here she was really trying to get Rosie’s mind away from each dug of the thread, each piercing of the needle, that pulsing hurt of her cut off clit, of her sliced open lips. Rosie was crying desperately, heavy sobs of crying interspersed with shrill screams, fighting against the restraints. But Carol’s voice seemed to calm her down.

‘I’m so looking forward to our party. As my pain sister you will be the guest of honour, so all my presents will be your presents too. And if I get a hooverman, which I strongly suspect, you will have to visit everyday, so you can train on it …’

That got Rosie’s attention. These new platforms were you could actually hover some inches above the ground were every kid’s dream. Coming to school with one of them, which the schools incidentally strongly discouraged as they hadn’t yet a clue, where and how to store them, was the epitome of ‘busting’ as they called everything fashionable. She still mewled every time the needle went through, but it was obvious that her thoughts were somewhere else and she was clinging to Carol’s words and eyes like a fish on its hook. I cleaned her, when I remembered the red spot her mother wanted on her favourite trouser. Well, the stitches were still bleeding a little and her finger nail sized hole, which was all that was left from her pussy, seeped some blood, probably coming from the clit stump, so that should satisfy Marly’s desire to punish her daughter.

‘… and I will introduce you to every one of my girlfriends from Stepston High, I know they all are a little bit posh, but when you know them more closely they’re nice girls. They are so so envious that my mother already allowed me to have my pussy done, so they will be even more curious to see that yours is actually closed …’

I removed Rosie’s towel. She was so mesmerized by Carol’s babble that it took some time, during which I opened their restraints, till she croaked hopefully: ‘Finished?’

‘Yes, just one little thing. What is the tradition, when a girl gets cut?’

‘She is allowed to run naked the whole day and show her new pussy to everyone!’

Carol’s exited answer was accompanied by a naughty giggle.

‘And?’

‘And she gets a tail?’

Rosie’s worried question already implied that she wasn’t sure that she actually wanted one.

‘Exactly. It might be that you get a beautiful new one at this party of yours, but it’s best if I fit you now already with the ones which are standard school issue, so breathe again slowly, here it goes.’

Carol emitted a grunt halfway between pain and pleasure, when the blow up butt plug entered her small asshole.

‘Ok, three pumps to fix it …’

This sounded more like it as she started to wail in agony, her freshly cut pussy pushed out by the growing plug.

‘… and now we take away the pump and fix the tail. This looks really nice. Ok, Rosie, relax.’

‘Do I really need thi…, ouch, ouch, please, it …’

Her scream ended in pitiful crying as new pain coursed through her sex, her small hole closed by the pressure in her asshole. Carol, having accepted the full feeling in her ass surprisingly quickly, stroked Rosie’s hair.

‘It’s ok sister, just relax, it will start to feel really good after some time and as a closed woman you have to train your asshole anyway.’

Aha, Miss Prissy had obviously more experience as one would think. What a pity that these feisty eleven, twelve year olds often ended up broken by the time they are fifteen. I hate to see that happen to this beauty. I helped them from the chair, Rosie yelping with every movement, Carol just wincing now and then.

‘Look, my clit!’

Carol’s smile lit up her face as she regarded the blue finger swimming in the preserving lotion.

‘Where’s mine?’

Rosie was leaning on Carol’s shoulder and shuffled along as I showed them her clit with attached lips lying in the tray.

‘Looks like the Batman sign. What will you do with it?’

‘We keep them, so that if someone later decides to use it for a piece of jewellery, it is still possible. But using it as fast as possible is always recommended as preservation has its time limits.’

‘Mommy said it’s too expensive and she didn’t have hers either.’

There was great sadness in Rosie’s words. I knew someone, who had Marly’s clit and this someone would take care of Rosie’s clit as well. Although having it close to my heart in form of a nipple pendant wasn’t an option for this wonderful butterfly, I thought more in the line of a necklace. While I was finishing up, they were supporting each other to dress, when Rosie looked in despair at her white trousers. Sighing with resignation she stepped into them.

‘Ouch, ouch, that really hurts and look …’

She started crying as the red spot blossomed in her crotch. I hugged her and again it felt like fifteen years ago, when her mother sobbed into my bosom as she confessed her pregnancy.

‘You know what. A lot of girls we cut here come with trousers and then they have to leave without them, so I have this little treasure chest next door and as you two have been so brave you can each choose one, ok?’

‘That’s ok, Rosie can have mine as well. Does she have to wear the trousers? I thought we can run naked anyway.’

‘You’re absolutely right, but I would propose you still leave your cloths on till you sit in your mother’s car, which should be here any minute by the way, and then it’s all naked glory. And now off to that little treasure cove, just behind the door.’

‘Yoo-hoo.’

They giggled and ouch’ed their way next door and with ahs and ohs took apart my collection of girls’ clothes, which I kept, I have to confess, primarily for sniffing purposes. Five minutes later they had forgotten their pain and my existence and that Carol’s mother was waiting and that there was a party, they just were in dressing up mood, all girly, all beauty.