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Her Prerogative	By : Darkinudemon Category: +M to R > Ranma � Views: 107 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own the Ranma 1/2 Series, nor am I making money from this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Her Prerogative
- 1
Akane Tendo marchedthrough the bustling streets of Nerima with determination etched on her face,her firm grip on Ranma-chan's wrist unyielding. The sun was a fiery orange,casting long shadows that danced alongside them as they approached the clinic.Ranma, on the other hand, was a picture of reluctance, their usual pep andbravado replaced with a slumped posture and a furrowed brow. Akane's handtightened around the appointment slip, the paper crumpled from her iron grip.This was it. There was no turning back.

The clinic loomedahead, its white walls stark against the backdrop of the setting sun. Akane'seyes were fixed on the destination, her jaw set. She had made up her mind, andnothing was going to change it. Ranma's protests grew increasingly faint, theirvoice a mere murmur against the sound of the city. The smell of exhaust fumesmingled with the sweet scent of street food wafting from nearby stalls, a starkcontrast to the antiseptic odor that awaited them within the clinic's doors.

As they entered thewaiting room, the coolness of the air-conditioning washed over them, offering abrief respite from the heat outside. The walls were adorned with posters ofvarious conditions, their systems, and what they needed to ask their doctor about.The chairs were a mishmash of plastic and fabric, all a bit too large forRanma's transformed body. The floor was a checkered pattern of white and bluetiles, reflecting the fluorescent lights that buzzed overhead. The air wasthick with the tension of unspoken words, and the ticking of the clock on thewall seemed to echo the racing of their hearts.

The receptionistglanced up, her eyes flickering between them as she smiled at their approach, asilent question hanging in the air. Akane stepped forward, her voice firm."We're here for the appointment." The words felt like lead in hermouth, but she managed to spit them out. The receptionist nodded, her smilereturning, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. She took the slip and tappedaway at her keyboard before printing out a form and handing it to Akane.

Ranma-chan's eyesdarted around the room, searching for an escape, any escape. But Akane's gazewas unwavering, and their eyes met briefly before Ranma sighed and took a seat.The form was a sea of bureaucratic jargon, but the purpose was clear. Akane's handtrembled slightly as she filled it out, trying to ignore the pleading inRanma's eyes. This was for the best, she told herself. For both of them.

After what felt likean eternity, a nurse in mint green scrubs appeared, clipboard in hand."Ranko Tendo?" she called out, her voice a mix of professionalism andcuriosity. Ranma-chan's ears perked up, and Akane nodded as they both stood. "Thisway, please." The nurse led them through a set of double doors, the soundsof the waiting room fading behind them. The corridor was sterile and cold, thewalls lined with closed doors that seemed to hide secrets and whispers of pain.

“Ranko Tendo?”Ranma-chan hissed to her companion.

“What do you expect?Ranma Saotome is a male, not a female. Since we already had Nabiki make the IDsa long time ago, figured we’d use them now.”

The exam room was nobetter, a stark contrast to the cozy warmth of the Tendo dojo. Thegynecologist's chair in the center of the room looked more like a torturedevice than a medical instrument. Ranma's eyes widened as the nurse instructedher to strip down and climb onto the chair. The fabric of the chair was coldand unforgiving against Ranma's bare skin, and the thick, leather-like strapsfelt like a declaration of war against her modesty as she were secured aroundtheir wrists and ankles. Akane's face was a mask of stoic resolve, though hercheeks burned a fiery red.

With a flick of aswitch, the chair's back reclined, and Ranma-chan's legs were parted, thestirrups cold and unyielding. She couldn't help the whine that escaped theirlips as their most sensitive parts were laid bare before Akane and the nurse. Apool of arousal began to form on the chair, glistening in the harsh lights.Akane huffed, her nostrils flaring, a mix of disgust and anger marring herfeatures. "You're even turned on by this," she murmured, her voicelaced with accusation. "It's like you can't control yourself." Thenurse pretended not to notice the tension, focusing instead on preparing theinstruments.

The doctor, atowering black woman with skin darker than the night sky, strode into the roomwith an air of authority that made even Akane feel small. Her eyes were liketwin pools of onyx, and her smile was as cold as the steel instruments on thecovered tray she carried. "Ah, Miss Tendo," she greeted, her voice asmooth, velvety purr that sent a strange thrill through Ranma's body. "Andthis must be Ranko-chan."

Ranma-chan's eyeswidened further at the sight of the doctor, her hips instinctively bucking,seeking relief that wasn't there. The doctor raised an eyebrow, a smirk playingat the corners of her mouth as she took in the sight of the bound, arousedfigure before her. "Quite the eager one, aren't we?" she said, hervoice dripping with amusement. Akane's grip on the control panel tightened, herknuckles turning white.

“You have no idea,”Akane muttered loud enough to still be overheard.

Setting the traydown on the nearby counter, the woman quickly read over Ranma's chart, her eyesskimming over the words that seemed to leap off the page. "Uncontrollablesexual urges," she murmured, her expression unreadable. "Nymphomania."The term hung in the air, thick and heavy, as Akane's cheeks flushed withembarrassment. Ranma's whimpers grew louder, their hips bucking moreinsistently as the reality of the situation set in.

“That's what all thedoctors have all said," Akane admitted, her voice strained withfrustration and desperation. "It was a curse from one of our rivals, somekind of drug that no one can identify. And now..." she trailed off, unableto voice the painful truth. "Now she's like this. Out of control."She began listing off several instances of infidelity and public masturbationthat had been reported: the time at the school pool, the scandal at the mall,and even the most recent incident in the boy's locker room, where Ranma hadbeen caught about to service the entire soccer team after an all day practiceout in the summer heat.

The doctor nodded,her eyes never leaving Ranma's. "Ah, I see," she said, her voicestill cool and detached. "Well, we can certainly help with that."

Akane's eyes wateredas she listened, each word a knife twisting in her gut. "It's like she hasno self-control," she murmured, her voice cracking. "I love her, butI can't live like this anymore." She felt a tear slide down her cheek andhated herself for showing weakness. But the doctor's gaze was understanding, asif she had seen this all before.

"Well, we cancertainly address the symptoms. But the underlying cause..." She lookedup, her gaze piercing. "That's another matter."

Akane noddedsolemnly, her voice thick with the weight of their situation. "We've triedeverything. Chastity belts, medications, counseling, even less traditionalmedicine like spells and potions, you name it we've probably tried it. Nothingcan hold her back once the urge hits." She took a deep breath, steelingherself for the next part. "It's ruined our relationship, and our lives.This... this is the last resort."

The doctor nodded,her expression a mix of understanding and professionalism. She began herexamination, starting with Ranma's vitals. The cold stethoscope against theirskin made them jump, and Akane couldn't help but feel a pang of pity as shewatched Ranma's chest rise and fall rapidly with each shallow breath. Thedoctor's hands were firm and efficient as she moved down to her breasts, herfingers pressing gently in a pattern that was both clinical and strangelyintimate.

"Miss Tendo,would you like to assist?" the doctor asked, holding out her hand. Akane'seyes widened before she nodded, taking the proffered hand. The doctor's touchwas surprisingly gentle as she guided Akane's hands over Ranma's breasts, instructingher on how to check for lumps and abnormalities. Ranma's eyes were squeezedshut tightly, her body tense and shivering. Akane's heart ached as she felt theheat and the rapid beat of Ranma's heart under her palms.

Already havingguessing at the type of relationship the two girls had, the doctor couldn'thelp but get Akane involved. After all it wouldn't be the first couple in aslave and master relationship that wanted something permanent done to show eachother the slave's dedication and what better way than sacrificing their abilityto have children along with her clit.

The doctor'sinstructions grew more specific, her voice a gentle guide as Akane's handsmoved over Ranma's body. But as the exam continued, Akane's touch grew lessclinical and more possessive. Her thumbs flicked over Ranma's hardened nipples,eliciting gasps that grew into moans. The nurse in the room pretended to lookbusy, but the sound of Akane's breathing grew heavier as she watched the showbefore her.

Ranma-chan's eyeswere still squeezed shut, their cheeks a deep shade of red that matchedAkane's. Their hips were moving in a rhythm that had nothing to do with thedoctor's probing and everything to do with the pleasure Akane was inflicting onthem. The doctor took note of the change in the atmosphere, her smirk deepeningas she watched the power dynamics at play.

"Very good,Miss Tendo," the doctor murmured, her eyes never leaving Ranma's face."Since we're dealing with an unknown cotangent or pathogen, it's essentialthat you keep a close eye on any changes in her body. You'll need to examineher breasts daily, just like this, to ensure everything is normal."

Akane nodded, herthroat dry. "Of course, doctor," she managed to say, her voice a merewhisper. "Anything to ensure Ranko's health and wellness." Her eyesflicked down to the doctor's hands, which had moved down to Ranma's abdomen, pressingand prodding. The doctor's fingers moved with precision, her eyes scanning thechart as she worked.

"Hmm," thedoctor hummed to herself, her gaze intense. "Wide child bearing hips and Idon't feel any physical abnormalities. But she does seem to be running hotterthan normal." Her hand hovered over Ranma's pelvis, and Ranma-chan couldn'thelp but squirm, their breath coming out in shallow pants. Akane felt a strangemix of arousal and jealousy as she watched the doctor's dark hand againstRanma's pale skin.

Turning to Akane,the doctor's smile was a knowing one. "Miss Tendo, have you considered the implications of such aprocedure? It's a serious step, one that cannot be reversed. This will changeyour relationship with Ranko-chan forever." Akane's eyes snapped to thedoctor's, the gravity of the situation finally sinking in. Her mind raced withthe thought of Ranma's body, forever altered, and the reality of what it wouldmean for their future together.

But Akane's resolveremained unshaken. "We've discussed it several times," she saidmatter-of-factly. "Since this curse hit her, she's been nothing but abitch in heat. It's ruining her life and our relationship. We've triedeverything else." Her voice was firm, her eyes cold. "This is theonly way to get back to normal." The doctor nodded, her gaze lingering onthe young couple. It was clear that Akane was the one in charge here, and thedoctor respected that.

"Have youconsidered just having her bred?" the doctor asked, her voice a smoothcaress that sent a shiver down Akane's spine. Akane's eyes snapped up, meetingthe doctor's unblinking gaze. The room grew silent except for the hum of theair conditioner and the sound of Ranma's desperate panting. The suggestion hungin the air, heavy and thick like the scent of lilies that filled the room.

"What do youmean?" Akane's voice was tight, her grip on Ranma's thighs unyielding.

The doctor's smiledidn't waver. "Well, like with any animal in heat, the simplest solutionis to just put her to a stud and have her bred. It's a natural way to alleviatethe symptoms, and it could potentially cure the condition." Akane's mindraced, first going back to the soccer team in the boys locker room. The imagethen transitioned to that of Ranma at the mercy of a complete stranger, beingused to satisfy their urges, was almost too much to bear.

Her eyes narrowed,the green of her irises flashing with a dangerous light. "Never," shegrowled, her voice low and menacing. "Ranko is mine, and no one else willever touch her like that!" The possessiveness in her tone was palpable causingthe doctor raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by the dynamics at play.

Akane’s eyes werefilled with a storm of emotions: anger, sadness, and a hint of regret. But shesteeled herself, thinking of all the times Ranma had hurt her, all the lies andthe betrayals. This was for the best, she told herself. For both of them.

Much more calmlyAkane continued, "That said, I would be potentially interested inpartaking in their services. After all we still need a healthy donor for anyfuture children I have." She gave the doctor a heated look, the hint of achallenge in her eyes. "After all, I've heard about how well-endowed blackmen can be compared to Japanese."

The doctor's smilegrew, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she let out a laugh. "Verywell, Miss Tendo. It's good to see that you're so protective of your littlepet. But remember, this is a medical procedure, and we must do what's best forher."

Akane's eyes widenedat the implication that the doctor thought this was some twisted fetish play,that Ranma was merely her submissive human pet. Her cheeks flushed crimson, amix of indignation and embarrassment mixing with arousal tightening her chest."She's not my—" Akane started, but the doctor cut her off with a waveof her hand.

"Of course,Miss Tendo," the doctor said smoothly, her tone dripping with practicedindifference. "Before we do anything else, I still want to perform agynecological exam and check for cancer." She produced a gleaming metalspeculum, its cold steel glinting under the harsh fluorescent lights. Without aword of warning, without even warming it, she pushed the instrument intoRanma-chan's slick, swollen sex. The sudden, icy invasion sent a violent shiverracking down the girl's spine. A choked gasp escaped Ranma's lips as her hipsjerked uselessly against the thick leather restraints, her inner musclesinstinctively clenching around the cold intrusion, quivering with a terrifyingcocktail of fear and unwanted anticipation.

Ranma-chan's eyesrolled back in their head, a low moan escaping from Akane's hand that smotheredtheir mouth. The doctor's eyes flicked up to meet Akane's, a question in them.Akane nodded, her own arousal building with each passing second despite the gravityof the situation.

The doctor crankedthe tool open as far as it would go without hurting her patient before lockingit open. Turning on a head-mounted flashlight, the doctor leaned in close, thebeam cutting through the intimate shadows. Her expression remained clinicallydetached as she peered deep into Ranma-chan's exposed canal.

"Well, I don'tsee any abnormalities such as cervical discoloration or polyps," sheannounced, her voice echoing slightly in the cavernous silence. She tilted herhead, the light catching the glistening wetness coating Ranma's inner walls. "Interesting.The cervical os seems to be dilated beyond normal, almost like she's preparingfor conception right now. It further leads back to my theory that she mightjust need to be bred." She tapped a gloved finger near the entrance,making Ranma flinch and whimper. "Her body is practically screaming forit, Miss Tendo. This level of physiological readiness isn't just nymphomania;it's a biological imperative." Once she was done, the doctor removed thespeculum with a soft pop, the sound echoing in the tense silence of the room.

Dawning a pair oflatex gloves, the doctor's hands looked almost alien as they hovered overRanma's exposed flesh. The sound of the gloves snapping into place was like agunshot in the tense silence of the room. Akane's eyes were drawn to thedoctor's hands as they moved closer to Ranma's wet, inflamed sex, the latex astark contrast against the pinkness of her folds.

With a firm butgentle hand, the doctor began her examination, her eyes scanning the walls ofRanma's sex with a small, pen-like light. Akane watched, her eyes riveted onthe sight, feeling a strange mix of emotions. The doctor's fingers moved with aprecision that was almost artful, her latex-covered digits delving deep withinRanma's folds. She checked for any signs of abnormalities, her face a mask ofconcentration as she worked.

. She gave Akane aknowing smile before speaking. "Well, Miss Tendo," she began, hervoice smooth as silk, "the initial examination is complete. It seems thatRanma-chan is indeed quite...active." Her eyes flicked to the wetnessstill glistening on Ranma's thighs and the evidence of their recent arousal."But there's no sign of recent penetration."

"There'sdefinitely no problems with lubrication," the doctor said, her eyesflicking back up to Akane's with a knowing smile. "But on the other hand,her hymen is gone. It's been gone for a while, and without a more detailedmedical history, I can't tell the cause. It could be from sexual activity oreven physical exertion if she's been particularly active."

Akane swallowedhard, her mind flashing back to the time she had taken Ranma with a strap-ondildo in a fit of anger and frustration. It had been over a year ago, but thememory was as vivid as if it had just happened. She had been so overwhelmed bythe desire to dominate and control the girl that she had ignored all of Ranma'sprotests and taken her roughly, leaving her trembling and sobbing in theaftermath.

"Her clit andlabia are raw, swollen, and quite...enflamed," the doctor said, her voicecool and professional as she shone the light on the sensitive area. "Tellme, Miss Tendo, when was the last time Ranko-chan indulged in a little self-care?"

Akane's eyesnarrowed, her grip on Ranma's thighs tightening reflexively. "On the rideover," she answered honestly, causing Ranma's blush to deepen to a darkcrimson. "I caught her with her hand down her pants on the crowded bus. Iwas lucky no one noticed."

The doctor'seyebrows shot up in surprise before she nodded, making a note on the chart."Well, that explains the condition she's in," she murmured, her toneone of mild disapproval. "And you said you've tried chastity and thatdidn't work?"

"Yes,"Akane said, her voice tight with anger and frustration. "The leather onesdidn't last a day, and she managed to break the metal one in less than aweek."

The doctor nodded inagreement, her expression one of understanding mixed with a hint of somethingelse that Akane couldn't quite place. "Then I have to agree that somethingmore substantial and permanent is required. I suggest a Type 2 Clitorectomy andLabia Excision would be for the best. If she’s always this wet down there thanthere is a strong chance of her developing yeast infections if both her innerand outer labia aren’t removed allowing easier cleaning and aircirculation."

The words hit Akanelike a ton of bricks. "Type 2?" she echoed, her voice barely awhisper. The doctor's eyes bore into her, the weight of her gaze heavy withmeaning.

"Yes, a Type 1is quite standard," the doctor elaborated, her voice a purr. "Itinvolves the removal of the clitoris and sometimes the hood. But givenRanma-chan's... unique condition," she said, glancing down at thestill-spasming sex before her, "I believe a Type 2 would be moreappropriate. We remove the clitoris and the inner and outer labia, allowing forbetter ventilation and easier maintenance and cleaning."

"Then there'sthe Type 3 where instead of removing the Labia Majora, they are instead trimmedand then sewn together sealing most of the vaginal canal, leaving only a narrowopening at the bottom for urine and menstrual fluids to escape," the doctorcontinued, her eyes never leaving Akane's, watching for her reaction closely."It's a more extreme approach, but in some cases, it's the only way toensure absolute chastity and obedience. However, in her case it would makecleaning all but impossible and if she keeps producing arousal in similaramount it definitely would cause further medical issues."

Akane felt a coldchill run down her spine, the implications of what the doctor was suggestingweighing heavily on her. To take away Ranma's ability to pleasure herselfcompletely, to control her sexuality so thoroughly... it was a temptingthought. But the look in Ranma's eyes, the silent pleading and fear, made Akanehesitate.

Ranma, on the otherhand, was drowning in a sea of conflicting emotions. The doctor's clinicaldescription of her most intimate parts being altered sent an unexpected jolt ofarousal through her. Her hips gave a helpless twitch against the restraints, herswollen sex clenching down on nothing but air as the doctor spoke about sealingher shut. The idea of Akane and this powerful woman deciding her fate while shelay exposed and helpless was perversely thrilling. A fresh wave of wetnesstrickled onto the cold leather, her inner muscles fluttering visibly as sheimagined being permanently denied release. The voluntary (or involuntarydepending on who you asked) spasm didn't escape the doctor’s sharp gaze orAkane’s furious scrutiny.

The doctor must havenoticed because she leaned in closer, her breath warm against Akane's ear."It's might be for the best," she whispered. "You'll be able tocontrol her desires, to keep her from straying again. And she won't have to livewith the constant torment of her condition." Akane's grip on Ranma'sthighs tightened again, her nails digging into the flesh as the doctor's wordssank in. "If you're interested in seeing an example, I myself have a Type3," the doctor offered in an attempt to sweeten the deal.

Akane's eyes snappedto the doctor's, a flicker of something akin to desire in them. "Could Isee?" she found herself asking, her voice thick with anticipation. Thedoctor's smile grew, a knowing look in her eyes that spoke volumes.

Slowly,deliberately, she began to unbutton her lab coat. Each button slipped throughits hole with a whisper that seemed to echo through the room. Underneath, shewore a pristine white blouse and a tight, black skirt that hugged her curveslike a second skin. Akane's heart raced as she watched the doctor's everymovement, her eyes traveling over the woman's body hungrily.

The blouse came offnext, revealing a black lace bra that barely contained her generous breasts.They were large and round, almost as big as Ranma's, but without the samesoftness. Akane felt a stab of envy, but also something else. Desire, perhaps.The doctor's skin was the color of midnight, smooth and unblemished, a starkcontrast to the paleness of the room. The doctor reached behind her back andunclipped her bra, letting it fall to the floor. Her breasts bounced slightlybefore settling, the nipples large and dark, pointing straight out like tinyarrows.

The doctor's handsslid down her body, over the tight skirt to the zipper that ran along the side.Akane watched, her breath hitching as the zipper was drawn down, revealing apair of black lace panties that matched the bra. The doctor stepped out of herskirt, standing before them in only her underwear. Her legs were long andshapely, muscular from years of practice and exercise, the kind that could wraparound a person's waist and not let go.

With a seductivesmile, she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her panties and began toslide them down. Akane's eyes were glued to the spot between the doctor's legs,her mind racing with what she was about to see. When the fabric was finallypeeled away, she couldn't help but gasp. Ranma's eyes grew even wider, hercheeks flushing a deep scarlet as she let out a moan.

Indeed, her clit wasgone, and where her vagina used to be was a slightly ragged line where herlabia had been sewn together. It was a stark contrast to Ranma's own sex, whichwas still visibly swollen and wet. Akane's stomach clenched with a mix of arousaland horror at the sight. The doctor stepped closer, her hand sliding over thebarely-there scar with a fondness that was almost loving. "It's quiteliberating, really. To not be a slave to your own desires anymore. To serveyour purpose without distraction." Her voice grew softer, more seductive.Akane swallowed hard, her eyes darting to the doctor's crotch before snappingback up to meet her gaze.

"May I?"Akane tentatively asked, her voice trembling slightly.

The doctor nodded, aknowing smile playing on her lips. "But if you wish to continue with thisexamination in such a manner, I suggest you remove your own clothing. Afterall, it would be quite inappropriate to have such... intimate contact without beingfully committed to the process."

Akane's eyes neverleft the doctor's as she all but tore her own clothes off, her hands tremblingwith the desire to touch the black goddess before her. She stepped closer, herbare breasts brushing against the doctor's, her own hardened nipples standingat attention. The doctor's skin was hot to the touch, almost feverish, andAkane felt her own body respond, her clit swelling and her pussy growingwetter.

With tremblinghands, Akane reached out, her fingers brushing over the smooth, scarred fleshwhere the doctor's clit used to be. It was a strange sensation, the absence ofsomething so vital, so central to female pleasure. The doctor's breath hitchedslightly at the contact, and Akane felt a thrill run through her, a heady mixof power and fear.

Her eyes never leftthe doctor's as she leaned in closer, her breath warm against the slick folds.The doctor's scent was intoxicating, a potent blend of musk and something else,something dark and alluring. Akane felt her mouth water as she traced the seamwhere the labia had been sewn together, her tongue darting out to taste thesaltiness of her skin.

"Ah, soeager," the doctor murmured, her voice low and smoky. "It's quite thetransformation, isn't it?" Akane nodded, unable to tear her eyes away fromthe altered landscape of the doctor's sex. The idea of Ranma being so utterlyunder her control was overwhelmingly arousing, a fantasy she'd never daredvoice. "But enough of that for now," the doctor said, her eyesgleaming with excitement. "After all, we have a good submissive girlstrapped down and waiting to be transformed for our enjoyment."

With a gracefulpivot, the doctor returned to Ranma's side, her naked body moving with a felinegrace that made Akane's heart race even more. "Sadly like I mentionedpreviously, with Ranko's condition and excessive arousal, I don't believe aType 3 is a viable option," she said, her hands moving to the tray ofinstruments. Akane nodded in agreement, her own desires still very muchpresent. She didn't want to lose the ability to fuck Ranma's cunt with herstrap-on dildo, not after all the pleasure it had brought her. The thought ofbeing denied that was infinitely times more terrifying as the procedure itself.

The doctor turnedback to the shelf, her movements as graceful as a ballet dancer's, and Akane'sgaze was drawn to a glint of chrome nestled between the doctor's firm, roundbuttocks. "What's that?" Akane asked, her voice a mix of curiosityand disbelief.

The doctor chuckled,a rich, deep sound that seemed to resonate through the room. "Ah, that'smy little secret," she said, her hand caressing the base of the object."It's a butt plug. Since my own little... adventure down there," shegestured to her crotch, "my body has found different ways to experiencepleasure." She looked over her shoulder, her dark eyes meeting Akane's, aknowing smile playing on her lips. "Since my vagina has been sealed upsince I was a child, the only sexual relief I get is through my ass. You couldsay that I've become something of an anal aficionado."

Akane's eyes widenedat the revelation, her mind racing with the implications over what she wantedfor Ranma. The doctor's words echoed in her ears, painting a vivid picture of alife where Ranma would be nothing more than a compliant, sexual outlet for her.The idea of having Ranma's desires under her complete control was intoxicating,a heady mix of power and possessiveness. She'd grown used to the thrill ofwatching Ranma squirm and beg for release, the way the girl's body responded soreadily to her touch.

But as she studiedRanma's swollen clit and the raw, exposed flesh around it, Akane felt a twingeof doubt. If she went through with the Type 2, she could keep Ranma in thisperpetual state of need, a living, breathing symbol of her dominance. But wouldit be too much? Would the constant torment drive Ranma away, or would it justbind her tighter to Akane's will? But If she went with the Type 3, the requiredreduction in Ranma's libido could result in reduced performances. The doctor'swords about the Type 3 being "more extreme" echoed in her mind. Akaneknew that Ranma was already at her mercy and the decision was ultimately hers.

The doctor watchedAkane, her own arousal palpable in the air. She knew the power she held in thatmoment, the power to shape Ranma's future, to mold her into the perfect,obedient pet. Akane's hand hovered over the chart, the tip of her pen tappingout a nervous rhythm against the paper. "Give the bitch the Type 2,"she finally said, her voice firm with resolve. "If she continues tomisbehave afterwards, we might just have to come back for the fulltreatment."

Ranma's eyes wentwide, her fear palpable as they stared up at Akane. She could feel the heat oftheir own arousal, the wetness that had soaked through the paper beneath them.The sheer dominance in Akane's voice and posture caused them to moan and attemptto thrust her hips into the air in acceptance. But the straps held them firmlyin place, a reminder of their complete and utter helplessness.

The doctor's eyesgleamed as she watched the silent exchange between Akane and Ranma. Shecouldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement at the prospect of seeing Akane'sdominance in action. Her own anal muscles clenched around the butt plug, thesensation sending a jolt of pleasure through her. She had seen many couplescome and go through her doors, but rarely did she find one as intriguing asthis.

O yes. She woulddefinitely be giving the younger girl a thorough examination of her own oncethey were done with Ranma. After all, it was intriguing to see how thatdominance held up against a more mature and experienced woman. Would Akanemaintain her dominance or would she crumble under the onslaught and end up inthe same chair as Ranma? The doctor couldn't help but imagine the scene, herpulse quickening at the thought of Akane's fiery spirit being tamed by herskilled hands.

But first thingsfirst, she had a patient waiting for her procedure. The doctor turned herattention back to Ranma, her body quivering with fear and anticipation. Thegirl's arousal was palpable, the sweet scent of her desire filling the air asshe awaited the execution of her precious love button and ovaries. The doctordecided to start with the girl’s ovaries…

Removing the clothfrom the tray she'd brought in with her, the doctor revealed two gleaming,long, and thin needles that looked more like instruments of torture thanmedical tools. Akane's eyes widened at the sight, the reality of what was aboutto happen hitting her like a sledgehammer. "This is Neutrasol," thedoctor said calmly, holding one of the needles up to the light, allowing thesharp tip to glint menacingly. "It's most often used to non-surgicallydestroy a male's testicles, but as you've seen from the booklets you were givenwhen you first inquired into our procedures, it works equally well withovaries."

Ranma-chan's eyessnapped open, their pupils dilated with a mix of fear and arousal. They saw thegleaming needles in the doctor's hand, and their breath hitched."A-Akane..." they whispered, her voice shaking.

The doctor's eyesflicked to Akane, assessing the situation with a knowing look. "MissTendo," she began, her tone softening slightly, "are you sure this iswhat you want?" Akane's gaze never left the doctor's chart, avoidingRanma's desperate gaze. "It's for the best," she said, her voicetight. "I can't trust her anymore." The doctor nodded, her expressionneutral, and turned her attention back to Ranma.

With a gentle nod tothe nurse, the doctor took up one of the gleaming needles. "Now, this maysting a bit," she warned, her voice almost apologetic. Akane's griptightened on Ranma's thighs, bracing herself for the scream she knew wascoming. Her other hand moved over Ranma's mouth, muffling the sound as thedoctor swabbed the area with an alcohol wipe. The coldness of the liquid ontheir skin made Ranma flinch, their body tensing in anticipation of the pain tocome.

The doctor'smovements were deliberate and precise as she inserted the needle into Ranma'slower abdomen. The room was eerily quiet except for the sound of the doctor'sbreath and the occasional whine that escaped Ranma's muffled cries. Akane'sheart pounded in her chest as she watched the needle disappear into her lover'sbody, feeling the tremors that ran through them as the pain registered.

The plunger on thesyringe moved with a deliberate slowness that seemed to stretch the secondsinto minutes. Akane's eyes were glued to the process, her arousal growing asthe doctor's hand moved rhythmically, pushing the life-altering fluid intoRanma's ovary. The anticipation was almost unbearable, her own desire buildingas she felt the power she held in her hands, quite literally.

Ranma's eyes shotopen, locking onto Akane's, filled with a mix of shock and arousal that wasalmost painful to bear. Akane's face was flushed, her eyes glazed with a needthat was anything but medical. The pain of the needle piercing her flesh wasovershadowed by the intense, almost primal pleasure that began to build deepwithin her core. "Oh God!" Ranma's voice was a high-pitched whine,her back arching off the chair as the first spasm of pleasure hit her. "Ican feel it! My ovary is burning! It's... it's breaking down into mush!"Ranma's pussy gushed as an orgasm consumed her, soaking the paper lining of thechair beneath her.

The doctor's eyesremained focused on her task, but the corner of her mouth twitched into a smirkas she watched the display before her. She'd seen this reaction before, thebody's involuntary response to the intense pain mixed with the sudden onset ofpleasure that the drug induced. "Good," she murmured, her voice a lowpurr that seemed to resonate through Ranma's very bones. "That means it'sworking."

With a flick of herwrist, she swapped out the used needle for the second one. "MissTendo?" she prompted, her eyes meeting Akane's. "One more togo…" Akane's own gaze was torn between the doctor's calm professionalismand the wanton abandon in Ranma's eyes.

The doctor's wordsechoed in her ears, and Akane found herself nodding almost without thought."Spay the bitch," she murmured, the phrase feeling strange and yetoddly right on her tongue. The doctor's gaze flicked to hers, a knowing look inher onyx eyes that seemed to say she understood the complex web of emotionsthat lay beneath the surface.

With a nod, thedoctor swabbed the other side of Ranma's abdomen with the same cold efficiency.Ranma's body was a canvas of contrasts, the smoothness of her skin marred bythe beads of sweat that had gathered at their temples, the softness of hermoans at odds with the tension in their muscles. The anticipation in the roomgrew thick as the second needle was inserted, the plunger pushed down with thesame, torturously slow precision. This time, however, there was no explosiveorgasm to follow. Ranma was still riding the waves of the first, her body toosensitive to process the new influx of sensation so quickly.

Withdrawing theneedle, Akane felt a strange sense of relief and loss. Her hand on Ranma'sthigh tightened, her nails digging into the soft flesh as the needle waswithdrawn. A drop of blood beaded up, a crimson jewel against the pale skin.Without thinking, Akane leaned down, her tongue flicking out to lick it away.The taste was metallic and sweet, a strange contrast to the salty sweat thatcoated Ranma's body.

She'd done it. She'dactually had her fiancé spayed, and more importantly, Ranma had let her do it.Akane couldn't believe the words that had just left her mouth, but there theywere, hanging in the air like a declaration of war. The doctor had finished thesecond injection, and Ranma-chan lay panting on the chair, their eyes glazedwith a mix of agony and ecstasy. Akane felt a strange sense of power andvictory, her chest heaving with the weight of the decision she had just made.

The doctor steppedback, allowing Akane a moment to process what she just had done. Ranma-chan laythere, her eyes still glazed over, her chest rising and falling in shallow,panting breaths. Akane’s eyes lingered on the pool of desire that had formed betweenRanma's legs, a silent testament to her suffering and pleasure. Akane's ownarousal was a living, breathing entity, demanding attention she knew shecouldn't give, not here, not now.

With a smoothmotion, the doctor reached for a sleek, Polaroid instant camera from a nearbyshelf. The flash popped with a sharp crack, capturing the moment—Ranma’stear-streaked face, the sweat-slicked skin, the raw vulnerability. "Idocument all my work with before and after photos," the doctor explained,her voice a low murmur as she shook the developing photo. The image slowlymaterialized: Ranma’s hips bucked against the restraints; her expression caughtbetween agony and ecstasy. "For medical records, of course." She tookanother shot, this time focusing on the glistening wetness that coated Ranma’sinner thighs and her red inflamed sex. "Do you have one at home Ms.Tendo?"

"Ofcourse," Akane replied, already knowing where the doctor was going withthe question. The idea of having those photos—Ranma's swollen sex preservedforever in its final moments before mutilation—sent electric thrills throughher body. She imagined mounting them on her bedroom wall, forcing Ranma tostare at her own lost pleasure every morning. A constant reminder of theorgasms she'd never have again, all because she'd willingly surrendered herclit to Akane's dominance. The sheer power of that visual made Akane's thighspress together, her own wetness undeniable.

The doctor nodded,snapping another close-up of Ranma's inflamed clitoris. The flash illuminatedthe glistening folds, the swollen bud pulsing visibly even as Ranma whimpered."I've also found that it’s not only important but therapeutic to the patient."She swapped the Polaroid for a sealed disposable camera with 36 exposures."I recommend creating a photo album with two or three photos a day.Document every stage—the swelling, the bruising, the dead tissue, the healingscars. It’s a visual timeline of Ranko’s transformation into your perfect,obedient pet." Her dark eyes met Akane’s, sharp with understanding as shehanded the camera over to the girl. "It reinforces her new reality. She’llsee herself becoming what you made her."

Akane’s fingerstightened around the cheap plastic-wrapped package. The weight feltsignificant. She pictured Ranma flipping through those pages nightly, forced toconfront the irreversible damage Akane had authorized. The humiliation would beexquisite. Unable to contain herself, she quickly ripped the packaging off andtook several photos, the camera’s mechanical whir loud in the quiet room. Thefirst flash captured Ranma’s face twisted in arousal, her gaze locked on thecamera lens, her sex glistening obscenely in the bottom of the frame. Thesecond flash was a brutal close-up: the engorged clit, the raw, parted labia,the slickness pooling beneath her. Ranma’s hips jerked against the restraints,a choked sob escaping her as the flash illuminated her shame.

"However, Ihave to warn you about potential privacy concerns," the doctor murmured,her fingers tracing the curve of Ranma's trembling thigh as Akane snappedanother photo. "Use extreme caution when developing film of this nature. Iwouldn't recommend it at all—except film creates negatives." Her onyx eyesgleamed with dark amusement. "Several patients described the liberation ofhanding their circumcision photos to some lanky teenager working the counterafter school." She leaned closer to Akane, her breath warm against herear. "Watching him blush while flipping through images of their spreadlabia before offering him a closer look... it becomes part of thetherapy."

Akane’s gaze driftedto the ceiling tiles as she imagined it: the fluorescent lights of a one-hourphoto kiosk, some acne-scarred boy in an ill-fitting apron squinting at imagesof Ranma’s mutilated sex. The thought should have repulsed her. Instead, heatpooled low in her belly. She pictured his Adam’s apple bobbing in shockedarousal, his clumsy attempts to hide his erection while shuffling through eachphoto showing the very organ she had destroyed. Let him see. Let him ache. Letevery grainy intimate image remind him of a woman who was completely out of hisleague.

The doctor's gazeshifted back to the tray of gleaming surgical instruments, her fingers hoveringover a scalpel whose blade seemed to capture the harsh overhead lights like apromise. This was the moment she craved. Ever since she was a child, strapped downjust like Ranma, this procedure had been burned into her soul. The memory ofthe cold steel slicing through her own flesh, the searing agony mixed with anunwanted ecstasy, was the only thing that could make her body respond anymore.She needed to see that same raw terror in Ranma’s eyes, to feel the power shewielded as she took what was most precious from another girl.

Unlike with theNeutrasol injections, Ranma's sex was a slick canvas that resisted drying andthe procedure drastically more involved than a simple injection so alcoholwipes wouldn’t work for this next part. The doctor's eyes gleamed with asadistic delight as she reached for a new tool. Akane watched as the doctortore open a packet with her teeth, a brown povidone iodine swabstick emerging.

It was said that abutcher's hands were stained with blood, while a doctor's hands were stainedwith antiseptic. Even though some people called what she did barbaric, all shedid was provide a service to willing patients (even if the willing part was questionablesometimes) as she plied her trade. So what if she derived excitement andpleasure out of each girl who lost their sex or each guy who was castrated? Toher, it was just another day at the office, another chance to wield her scalpeland watch as the last vestige of their rebellious desires were carved away. Asthe saying went, "If you do what you love, you'll never work a day in yourlife."

Her eyes gleamedwith a dark satisfaction as she swiped the brown swabstick over Ranma's clit,the girl's body jerking in response. The sting of the iodine was like a brand,marking her as the doctor's property. The smell of the disinfectant filled theroom, a stark contrast to the sweet scent of arousal that had permeated the airmoments before. Ignoring the girl’s discomfort, she painted the swollen andsensitive flesh with the brown liquid, staining Ranma's pale Asian skin a starkcolor that made it look almost alien against the pinkness of her sex. Akanewatched the scene unfold with fascination, her own breathing growing ragged asshe felt a strange arousal building within her.

The iodine wasn'tnecessary for the circumcision method the doctor preferred, but she reveled inthe power of making Ranma wait, her clit already swollen and begging forrelief. The brown solution painted a stark contrast against the girl's paleskin, a visual representation of the transformation that was about to takeplace. It was always fun to make the patient wait just that tiny bit longerbefore they lost their nubs.

"Now MissTendo," the doctor purred, her voice thick with anticipation, "howwould you like me to perform Ranko's clitorectomy? I can use a scalpel but thattends to be bloody and requires stitches which are a pain. Or I can use aBurdizzo and simply crush the piece of useless flesh. Once the blood supply isdisrupted the flesh will naturally begin to atrophy and will eventually turnblack and simply fall off."

Akane's eyes dartedfrom the doctor's face to the gleaming tray of instruments, her mind racingwith the implications of each method. The scalpel would be quick and precise,but the thought of all that blood made her stomach twist. The Burdizzo, on theother hand, was something new. Akane had read about it, of course, but hadnever seen it used before. The idea of Ranma's clit withering away without asingle drop of blood being shed was... fascinating.

"TheBurdizzo," Akane said finally, her voice firm. "I dislikemesses." What wasn't said was that Akane would be spending the next weekor two giving Ranma all the oral sex she could ever want, knowing that the deadflesh of her clit wouldn't allow the redhead to feel anything and only causeher frustration to build. If Ranma wanted to ever cum again, it would bevicariously through Akane's own clit.

The doctor's smilegrew wider, her dark eyes glinting with approval. "An excellentchoice," she purred, picking up the stainless-steel instrument thatresembled a pair of oversized, gleaming pliers. "It's a bit more...dramatic, and I've found that the psychological impact of the anticipation ofthe flesh being crushed is often just as effective as the physical pain. Plus,when it happens, it's so fast that anesthetic isn’t strictly needed."

Ranma whimpered witha mix of fear and longing as the doctor approached, the cold metal of theBurdizzo glinting ominously in her hand. The room grew smaller as the doctor'sshadow loomed over the chair, the anticipation of pain and the loss of herclitoris almost too much to bear. Her body was a symphony of emotions: feartightening her muscles, longing making her wet, and a strange desire to pleaseAkane burning deep within.

She wanted to begfor it not to happen or at least be given pain relief, but a small part of heralso wanted to feel the full experience of her sacrifice to Akane. Not that shehad any say in the matter as the doctor had quickly picked up on the fact thatAkane was the one making all the decisions, not her. Ranma's eyes darted fromthe cold, gleaming instrument in the doctor's hand to Akane's stoic face.Akane's expression was unreadable, a mask of resolve that sent a shiver downRanma's spine.

Akane's own heartwas racing, her pussy pulsing with the anticipation of the power she wieldedover Ranma's pleasure. She watched as the doctor positioned the tool overRanma’s clit, the gleaming metal poised to crush the very essence of Ranma'ssexuality. It was a strange, almost exhilarating feeling, knowing that with asimple nod of her head, she could end Ranma's ability to feel pleasure as sheknew it. Akane's own breath hitched as the doctor's hands tightened around thetwo handles ready to force them together. The moment of truth just secondsaway.

The doctor's eyesnever left Ranma's as she positioned the tool. "Ready, Akane-san?"she asked, her voice a seductive purr that made Akane's knees weak. Akanenodded to herself, her own arousal a tangible presence in the air. But beforeshe could voice her response she had a sudden epiphany. Akane’s eyes flashedwith a newfound intensity as she stepped forward, placing a hand on thedoctor's forearm to halt her. "Wait," she murmured, her voice thickwith desire. "I have a better idea.”

The doctor lookedup, her smile turning predatory. "Oh?" she purred, raising aperfectly arched eyebrow. "And what would that be?"

"Do her labiafirst," Akane said, her voice low and filled with a newfound assertivenessthat seemed to resonate through the cold, sterile room. "So she knows justhow painful those are and can anticipate just how much more painful it'll bewhen you do her clit last." Akane felt a twinge of sadistic pleasure asshe watched the realization dawn in Ranma's eyes, the girl's pupils dilatingwith a mix of fear and excitement. The doctor's smile grew even wider, atwinkle of admiration in her gaze as she nodded her approval.

"You're toboss, huh?" the doctor said with a wink.

Her movements wereswift and precise as she approached Ranma, the cold metal glinting ominously inthe sterile light. Akane felt a strange mix of excitement and fear as shewatched the doctor's skilled hands. Ranma's breath hitched as the doctor'sthumb and forefinger pinched her right labium, stretching the swollen fleshtaut. The clamp hovered just above the sensitive skin, the anticipation of painmaking Ranma's entire body tense.

"Now, holdstill, Ranko-chan," Akane cooed, her voice thick with lust as she watchedthe doctor's hands move with surgical precision. Ranma whimpered, her eyes widewith terror and a hint of excitement that only served to fuel Akane's desire.

The doctor's otherhand squeezed the clamp's handles together with a swift, sharp motion, and thesound of crunching tissue filled the room. Ranma's scream of agony was music toAkane's ears, her own body responding with a jolt of pleasure that shot straightto her clit. The sight of Ranma's labia being crushed was more arousing thanshe could have ever imagined, and she felt her own juices trickle down herthighs as she watched the redhead's suffering.

The doctor's skilledhands moved to the left side, pinching the labia with the same precision.Ranma's body was already shaking, sweat beading on her forehead as sheanticipated the pain to come. Akane leaned in closer, her eyes never leavingthe doctor's face, watching the woman's every move with a hunger that surprisedeven her. The doctor's eyes met hers, and for a moment, the two of them wereconnected, bound by the power that Akane held over Ranma.

The doctor's thumband forefinger held the left labia firmly, the clamp poised and ready. The roomseemed to hold its breath as Akane nodded her head, giving the silent command.With a swift, almost delicate motion, the clamp closed, and Ranma's scream echoedthrough the sterile walls, mingling with the metallic clink of the instruments.Akane felt a twist of pleasure deep in her belly as the left labia crunched,the sight of Ranma's pain only increasing her desire for control.

Ranma's bodythrashed against the restraints, the pain a stark reminder of their power overher. Akane stepped closer, her hand reaching out to stroke the girl'ssweat-dampened forehead, whispering soothing words that did nothing toalleviate the agony. The doctor stepped back, watching the scene with a pleasedsmile, her eyes gleaming with anticipation for the final act.

The momentsstretched into an eternity as Ranma's sobs grew quieter, her breaths shallower.The doctor approached again, her movements a dance of power and precision. Shetook Ranma's clit between her thumb and forefinger, the poor girl's body goingtaut with fear and anticipation. Akane's own breath hitched as she watched, herhand moving unconsciously to her own clit, the desire to feel the same painfulrelease almost overwhelming.

"Well MissTendo," the doctor purred, her eyes gleaming with a dark delight,"should we give Ranko one last orgasm before we crush that naughty littlebutton of hers?"

Ranma's eyeswidened, and she nodded frantically, her body begging for release even as ittrembled with fear. Akane's own arousal spiked at the sight of Ranma'sdesperation, the raw need in her eyes. She looked from the doctor to Ranma, atwisted smile playing on her lips.

"Nope,"Akane said firmly, her eyes gleaming with a viciousness that matched thedoctor's own. "The bitch doesn't deserve to cum." Her voice was cold,the words cutting through the air like a knife. Ranma's eyes filled with a mixof shock and pain, the realization that her suffering was the source of Akane'spleasure making her stomach twist into knots. "Besides," Akanecontinued, her gaze never leaving Ranma's, "look at her, she's leakinglike a sieve. I bet you she cums the moment I crush her little clit."

Seeing a chance topotentially destroy another clit this afternoon, the doctor couldn't help butplay along with Akane's sadistic plan, even if it was a fools bet. "Andwhat stakes would you like to wager?" she asked, her voice dripping withamusement. Akane's eyes lit up at the question, a wicked smile playing on herlips as she considered the possibilities.

"If shecums," Akane began, her voice low and sultry, "then I win. And as myprize," she stepped closer to the doctor, her hand trailing down her bodyto cup her own sex, "I Want You. I want you to worship my body. Show mejust what an experienced black lover is capable of."

The doctor's smilegrew even wider, her eyes gleaming with the thrill of the challenge. "Andif I win?" she purred, raising an eyebrow. "If she doesn't cum fromthe clamp, then what do I get?" She knew she was going to loose, but she hadalready been planning to have sex with Akane so it wasn't like it was somethingshe would already be doing.

Akane leaned incloser, her breath hot against the doctor's cheek. "If you win," shemurmured, her hand moving to squeeze the doctor's firm ass, "you can dowhatever you want with me. Anything at all..." The promise of completesurrender was a potent aphrodisiac, and the doctor felt a thrill of power atthe thought of having Akane at her mercy.

The doctor's smilegrew wicked, her eyes shining with a newfound respect for Akane's sadisticstreak. "Ah, a woman who understands the true value of pain," shemurmured, her hand caressing the cold, gleaming surface of the Burdizzo."Very well, I accept your bet, but know that if I win you’ll be in thatchair right afterwards as circumcise and spay you just as I’ve done toRanko."

Akane was shocked.That wasn't what she'd offered. No way would she risk her own sex and abilityto carry children on a simple bet. But as she thought about what she'd said,horror quickly filled her when she realized that she had indeed suggested it.Her words hung in the air like a noose around her neck, tightening with eachpassing moment. The doctor's grin grew wider, her eyes gleaming with apredatory excitement that made Akane's stomach churn.

Akane felt a coldknot form in her stomach as the weight of her words settled on her. It was onething to control Ranma's sexuality, but to gamble with her own? The thought wasterrifying, but the thrill of the power play was too much to resist. She nodded,her gaze never leaving the doctor's. "Deal," she said, her voicesteady despite the fear that was now racing through her.

Akane felt a coldknot form in her stomach as the weight of her words settled on her. It was onething to control Ranma's sexuality, but to gamble with her own? The thought wasterrifying, but the thrill of the power play was too much to resist. She nodded,her gaze never leaving the doctor's. "Deal," she said, her voicesteady despite the fear that was now racing through her.

“You hear thatRanko, you have a choice to make." The doctor acknowledged the redhead forthe first time, her voice a sultry purr that sent a shiver down Akane's spine."You get to decide the fate of Akane's sex just as she's been decidingyours. If you want Akane to share in your experience, then all you have to dois not orgasm." Akane didn't notice the wink she sent Ranma.

Ranma's eyes dartedbetween the two of them, her mind racing. She hadn't expected this turn ofevents, but the thought of being the one in control, even if it meant enduringmore pain, was intoxicating. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for thechallenge. "I won't cum," she said, her voice shaking withdetermination. "I can do it." Ranma winked right back.

Akane's heart racedas the doctor's countdown began, her eyes locked on Ranma's face. Theanticipation was almost too much to handle, her own arousal building as shewatched the doctor's fingers tighten around the clamp. The room felt like itwas closing in, the air thick with the scent of fear and desire. At this pointshe’d completely forgotten that she’d been offered the chance to kill Ranma’sclit.

"Ready...three...two...one..."

On zero Ranmascreamed "as if" her clit was clamped, but to Akane's shock andhorror she didn't cum. Akane started hyperventilating thinking that she'dactually lost before both the doctor and Ranma started laughing. The sound oftheir mirth was like a slap in the face, jolting her out of her fear-inducedtrance. She looked from Ranma's pain-filled expression to the doctor's smirk,realizing she had been had.

"You think thisis a joke?" Akane's eyes blazed with fury, but the doctor's laughter onlygrew louder. "Sorry 'Kane, we couldn't help ourselves," Ranma managedto get out through gritted teeth, the pain from everything else that had beendone to her still etched into every line of her face.

But there was nomore room for games. The doctor's smile turned serious, the glint in her eyesshifting from mirth to cold determination. "All right, this time forreal," she said as she handed Akane the burdizzo clamp and then instructedthe girl on exactly where and how to position it.

Akane hesitated foronly a second before pressing the cold metal against Ranma's swollen clit. Theredhead whimpered, her hips instinctively jerking away, but the restraints heldfirm. "Hold it steady," the doctor commanded, placing her hands overAkane's to guide the positioning.

Behind Akane, thedoctor pressed flush against her back, her arms encircling the girl as she slida hand down Akane's bare flesh. Akane gasped as fingers found her wetnessbefore focusing on the girl's clit. stroking with deliberate pressure."Focus," the doctor murmured, her breath hot against Akane's neck."Squeeze on my count."

Akane's knuckleswhitened on the clamp's handles. Ranma's frantic pulse throbbed against themetal, a wild rhythm that mirrored the frantic beat beneath Akane's own skin.Sweat slicked her palms as she stared at the swollen bud, the gleaming metal ofthe Burdizzo a stark contrast against the brown painted flesh. The air thickwith the scent of antiseptic and arousal. The doctor's fingers circled Akane'sclit, sending jolts of pleasure-pain that coiled low in her belly, demandingrelease.

"Three..."Akane began, her voice thick. The doctor joined her, a low murmur against herear. "Two..." Ranma whimpered, a high, desperate sound. Akane saw theterror in those blue eyes, the betrayal, the raw need. Her muscles tensed. "One!"The doctor squeezed Akane's clit hard, forcing a gasp from her throat asAkane’s arms flexed, slamming the handles together with a brutal, decisiveforce.

The moment the clampclosed around Ranma's clit, the room was filled with a sound that was somehowboth quiet and deafening—the sickening crunch of flesh being crushed beyondrepair. Ranma's body arched off the chair, her eyes squeezed shut so tightly thatAkane could see the veins pulsing in her eyelids. Her mouth opened in a silentscream, a testament to the overwhelming pain that coursed through her body.

But amidst theagony, there was something else. Akane watched in awe as a spasm of pleasurerippled through Ranma's body, her thighs quivering, her hips buckinginvoluntarily. She'd been right—the pain of the clamp had triggered an intenseorgasm, one that seemed to last an eternity. Akane could see the shock inRanma's eyes, the disbelief that this could be happening to her. It was amoment of pure, unbridled passion, a dance of pleasure and pain that neither ofthem had ever experienced before.

Unseen by Akane, thenurse had been busy. She'd quietly retrieved Akane's new camera from whereshe'd set it down and snapped a series of clandestine shots. Several of themcaptured the doctor clamping Ranma's labia, the redhead's face contorted in amix of agony and ecstasy. Another caught the doctor's fingers buried deep inAkane's wetness, her expression focused and predatory. The most telling was ashot of Akane poised to squeeze the clamp, her knuckles white, eyes burningwith sadistic intent.

But the mostimportant pictures were of the moment the burdizzo was closed. A wide-angleshot captured the entire scene: Akane's arms straining, the doctor pressedflush against her back, Ranma's body arched like a bowstring against therestraints. Then came the close-ups. One focused solely on Ranma's face – eyeswide, mouth open in that silent, agonized scream, tears streaking her temples.Another was a stark, clinical close-up of the clamp itself, the cold metal jawsburied in the swollen, glistening flesh of Ranma's clit, the moment of crushingcaptured in horrifying detail. The final close-up showed the immediateaftermath: not just the mangled clit, but the powerful, involuntary gush offluid that erupted from Ranma's core as the pain triggered the promised orgasm– a thick, pearlescent stream soaking the paper beneath her hips, undeniableproof of Akane's victory.

For Ranma, theorgasm was a crescendo of sensation, a symphony of ecstasy that seemed to go onforever. Her entire body was a live wire, her nerves singing with pleasure evenas the pain of her crushed clitoris crashed over her like a wave. It was a paradox,a contradiction that defied explanation—how could such agony bring about suchintense pleasure? It was a greater pleasure than anything she'd ever feltbefore, and now it was something she'd never feel again.

Akane watched, herclit still being manipulated by the doctor’s hand, her eyes never leavingRanma's face. The sight of Ranma's suffering and the knowledge that she hadcaused it filled her with a power that was both terrifying and exhilarating.The room was filled with the scent of sex and antiseptic, a potent mix thatseemed to heighten her own arousal. The doctor’s thumb and forefinger tightenedaround her clit, mimicking the action of the Burdizzo. She couldn't resist theurge to feel the same pain, to share in Ranma's fate, even if it was only in asmall way as she bucked her cunt into those foreign fingers. “Harder,” shemoaned, begging for the doctor to pinch her pearl harder.

Her eyes squeezedshut as doctor obliged her and harshly pinched her clit, the sensations grewtoo much to bear. An orgasm washed over her like a tidal wave, harsh andunforgiving just like Ranma’s, a mirror to the pain that the red-head wasenduring. Akane's body spasmed, her legs shaking as she came hard, her hipsjerking forward with each pulse of pleasure. It was a strange kind of release,one born from dominance and cruelty, and she reveled in it.

But the doctorwasn't done. Her fingers shifted, nails digging into Akane's flesh like talonsas she threatened to do the same thing to her that she'd just done to Ranma.Suddenly, it was like cold water was poured down Akane's back as the fantasy oflosing her own clit became one step away from reality.

The doctor watchedthe scene with a knowing smile, the sound of Ranma's muffled cries of pain andoverwhelming pleasure echoing in the room. She could see the power exchangebetween the two, the way Akane's dominance was feeding Ranma's submission. Itwas a dance of control and surrender, and she was the maestro conducting thesymphony of pain.

"No!"Akane shouted both in her mind and aloud, the echo of her own dominance ringingin her ears. 'I am the one in control, the one who gives pain, not receivesit!' With a fierce determination, shebrought herself back under control and forced the doctor to release herthrobbing pearl. She shoved the woman backward with surprising strength, hereyes blazing with fury.

The doctor stumbledbut caught herself, her expression shifting from predatory amusement to waryrespect. Akane stood tall, her naked body glistening with sweat, her chestheaving. She didn't flinch as the doctor's gaze traveled over her, lingering onher flushed skin and the wetness between her thighs. Akane saw the calculationin those dark eyes—the reassessment of a predator who suddenly found herselffacing an equal.

'No! Not an equal,'Akane thought, her breath ragged as she glared at the doctor. She still had herown clit—unlike this mutilated woman—and with it came the ultimate power: theability to summon her own pleasure, raw and untamed, whenever she chose. Thatthrobbing nerve was her birthright, her weapon, her proof of supremacy over thedoctor and now Ranma as well. She'd die before letting anyone steal that firefrom her.

"I'll deal withyou in a minute," Akane snarled, her voice low and dangerous as she staredthe doctor down. Her eyes were hard, unblinking chips of obsidian, silentlyenforcing her dominance over the older woman. She turned away, slowly and carefullyremoving the burdizzo clamp from Ranma’s crushed and dying clit before settingthe tool down.

The doctor merelytilted her head, a faint, almost mocking smile playing on her lips. She wasn'tfazed in the slightest. Akane knew exactly what the doctor saw—a woman who hadclawed her way to power through the most twisted of circumstances, a woman whohad claimed her dominance over another by crushing their very source ofpleasure. The doctor saw a reflection, perhaps, but Akane saw only a flawed,incomplete version of herself. She had the power *and* the pleasure. The doctorhad only the power, and that made her lesser.

As the last tremorsof her orgasm subsided, Ranma was left with nothing but the searing agony ofher crushed and mutilated clit. Each breath was a struggle, her body a canvasof pain. The doctor knew that the pain was from having 10,000 nerve endings crushedsimultaneously, sending shockwaves of agony through her core. Ranma whimpered,her entire body trembling as the clamp released its brutal grip, the suddenabsence of pressure somehow more agonizing than the crushing itself.

Through the haze ofpain, Ranma felt Akane's warmth as the girl moved to her side causing thered-head to turn her head toward her. Akane's eyes were still filled with afiery intensity that Ranma had never seen before, and she knew that this wasthe woman she belonged to, the one she would submit to completely. Without aword, Akane leaned down and captured Ranma's mouth in a passionate kiss, theirtongues dancing together in a silent conversation of love, dominance, andsubmission. It was a kiss that spoke louder than any words could, a promise ofthe future they would share together.

Breaking the kiss,Akane stepped back, allowing the doctor to get back to work and examine Ranma’scrushed clit. The doctor's touch was surprisingly gentle as she manipulated thedying lump of flesh as it started to grow cold. Already Ranma couldn’t reallyfeal the doctor’s touch, and somehow that knowledge was almost as painful asthe crushing itself.

But then came thesweet relief as the doctor first sprayed her ruined flesh with a topicalanesthetic. Ranma sighted in relief as cool and soothing spray as it began tospread through Ranma's tortured flesh. Several long-lasting injections werealso administered around her sex. Her body slowly relaxed, the tension drainingout of her as the pain receded into a dull throb. Finally, several large pillsincluding for pain and a broad-spectrum antibiotic were provided by the nursewho had until that moment had been all but forgotten.

As soon as Ranma hadswallowed her medications, the nurse set the cup aside and retrieved severalsterile sanitary wipes. She began gently cleaning the dried iodine from Ranma'ssex, her movements efficient and impersonal. The cool wipes slid over Ranma'sswollen labia, washing away the sticky residue of the procedure and theevidence of her forced orgasm. Each pass revealed the brutal realitybeneath—the crushed clitoris already darkening to a bruised purple, theinflamed flesh around it weeping faintly. Ranma flinched at the contact, a softwhimper escaping her lips despite the numbing agents.

Akane leaned closer,her breath catching as the nurse finished wiping and stepped back. The ruinedpetals of Ranma's flower lay exposed—utterly transformed. Gone was the flushedpink that betrayed Ranma's perpetual arousal, or the darker, swollen hue thatbloomed after frantic self-touch. Instead, Akane saw a landscape of violence:the crushed clitoris was a dark, shapeless bruise nestled between folds nowslack and lifeless. The surrounding flesh bore deep indigo marks where theclamp’s jaws had bitten deep, the skin already cooling to an ashen gray. Akanetraced the outline with her eyes, committing every brutal detail to memory.This wasn’t arousal—it was annihilation. A trophy of her absolute control.

The sharp*snap-hiss* of a Polaroid broke her focus. Akane glanced up to see the doctorcapturing Ranma’s slack expression—eyes half-lidded, lips parted in druggedexhaustion—before shifting the lens downward to frame the devastation betweenher legs. The flash popped again, bleaching the scene momentarily.

Akane’s gaze driftedto her own disposable camera, discarded earlier on a counter. As she picked itup, she noticed the film counter showed only 16 exposures left—a dozen photoshad been taken by the nurse while she was otherwise occupied. She’d have to thankher for that later.

"I'm going tohave to buy several more cameras on the way home or I'll run out of film bytomorrow," Akane said matter-of-factly, her voice slicing through thesterile silence. She snapped a photo of Ranma’s slack face, capturing the teartracks drying on her cheeks. Another flash illuminated the bruised ruin betweenRanma’s legs—even the arousal that was still trickling out of Ranma's runedsex. Even after everything she'd been through, Ranma was somehow someway stillaroused. "I want to document every stage. The bruising. The decay."Her thumb advanced the film with a mechanical whir. "Especially when itturns black and falls off."

"The firstcamera is free," the doctor replied, wiping her hands on a towel, her tonelight, almost conversational. "But you can buy more at the front desk onyour way out. I don't even mark them up like I should." She laughed, alow, rich sound that echoed strangely in the tiled room. "One more reasonto keep the negatives. With a Polaroid, you can't make copies, and youcertainly can't enlarge or shrink the picture either." Her dark eyesflicked meaningfully toward Akane’s disposable camera. "Those negatives?They’re freedom. Enlarge her ruined sex to the size of a poster for yourbedroom wall. Shrink a shot of her weeping sex to put into a locket you makeher wear." She paused, letting the implication sink in. "Control thescale of her shame."

She's right, Akanethought, her fingers tightening around the disposable camera. The memorysurfaced abruptly—Nabiki's smug smirk when she'd learned her sister had hadlife-size posters of both of them commissioned for Kuno. Herself in a flimsytowel as she got out of the tub, Ranma captured mid-flip and dripping wet withno top after being tossed into the koi pond. Kuno had practically drooled overthem for God nows how long before his sister had discoverd them and used themas target practice. Disgusting then... but useful now. That same shady photolab Nabiki used would develop *anything*, no questions asked.

Satisfied with thephotos she'd taken—Ranma's slack, drugged face, the brutalized landscape of hersex—Akane set the camera down with deliberate care. Her movements were brisk,efficient as she began unstrapping the thick leather restraints binding Ranma'swrists and ankles. The buckles clicked open, one after another, the sound sharpin the quiet room. Ranma whimpered softly as her limbs were freed, hermovements sluggish and uncoordinated from the lingering effects of the trauma.Only a faint whimper escaped her lips as Akane slid an arm beneath hershoulders and another under her knees, lifting her off the cold vinyl of theexam chair. Ranma felt frighteningly light, her body limp and unresisting.

"Come on,Ranko," Akane murmured, her voice low but carrying an undeniable command.She didn't wait for acknowledgment, already moving toward the worn leathercouch tucked against the far wall. "Let's get you settled over here."She lowered Ranma onto the cracked leather cushions with surprising gentleness,arranging her legs slightly apart. The ruined flesh between them was starklyvisible, already swelling into grotesque shapes beneath the bruising. Akane'sgaze lingered for a moment, a flicker of possessive pride in her eyes."The nurse will bring you a cold pack," she stated, turning her headtoward the silent attendant. "Apply it directly. It'll help with theswelling while we..." Akane paused, her gaze shifting pointedly toward thedoctor, "...settle our little wager."

While they waitedfor the nurse to return, the doctor began to explain exactly what to expectduring Ranko’s recovery. She moved closer to the couch, her posture relaxed buther eyes sharp as scalpels as they assessed Ranma's mutilated sex. "First,the bruising you see now?" She gestured dismissively at the deep purplealready blooming across Ranma's labia and pubic mound. "That's just thebeginning. Within twenty-four hours, it'll deepen significantly. Darker. Almostblack. Those crushed blood vessels beneath the clamp site are hemorrhaginginternally. The tissue isn't getting oxygen. It's dying."

Akane listenedintently, her gaze fixed on the ruined flesh between Ranma's legs. The doctorcontinued, her voice clinical yet laden with grim promise. "As for theclitoris itself... what little sensation remains? It's borrowed time. Thenerves we crushed are already beyond repair. They'll sputter out completelywithin hours—long before the anesthetic injections wear off or those pain pillslose their grip. Even though it's still attached to her body, Ranko won't feelanything from it ever again. From now on, all she'll feel is a numb cold clitif she brushes up against it, an utterly lifeless foregin object." Shepaused, letting the horror sink in. "By the time you get home, even if youjabbed a needle into what's left of it? Nothing. Total sensory void."

The nurse reappearedsilently, a blue gel pack in hand. She slid it gently between Ranma's bruisedthighs, pressing the icy surface directly against the ruined flesh. Ranmagasped—a sharp, involuntary sound—as the cold bit through the lingeringnumbness. The nurse held it firmly in place, her expression unreadable, whilethe doctor continued her grim prognosis. "With continued applications ofcold packs," the doctor interjected smoothly, nodding toward the nurse'swork, "the external swelling should subside significantly within a day ortwo."

Ranma whimperedsoftly against the cold pack, a shudder running through her drugged body. Akanestroked her damp hair, her expression unreadable. The doctor leaned closer, hereyes gleaming with morbid fascination. "The real spectacle begins in threeto five days. Necrosis. The crushed tissue—starved of blood, choked by its owndying cells—will start to rot. It'll turn black. Shrivel. Become brittle."She traced an invisible line in the air above Ranma's groin. "Then, it'llslough off. Piece by piece. Like dead skin after a bad sunburn, only... deeper.Much deeper. Expect drainage. A foul odor. Bits of blackened tissue clinging toher underwear or floating in the bathwater." She smiled thinly."That’s the one downside to this particular procedure, no way to preservethe flesh in its former glory, and if your not careful you might just lose itentirely."

Ranma shiftedweakly, her fingers brushing against the nurse’s wrist. "I... I can holdit," she whispered, her voice thick and slurred from the drugs andexhaustion. The nurse hesitated only a moment before guiding Ranma's tremblinghand onto the cold pack. Ranma pressed it clumsily against herself, herknuckles white with the effort. The nurse gave a curt nod, her task complete.Without a word, she turned and slipped out the door, closing it softly behindher, leaving Akane, Ranma, and the doctor alone in the sterile, tension-chargedroom.

Done with her work,the doctor turned to Akane and got down on her knees in a proper slave readyposition. "Miss Tendo, I am at your disposal," she murmured, hervoice thick with a mix of desire and respect. Akane's heart raced, her handstill trembling from the intensity of her own orgasm. The power she held overthe doctor was a heady feeling, one that she hadn't anticipated when she'dfirst walked into the clinic. The doctor's eyes were cast down, her gazefocused on Akane's crotch, a silent invitation that was impossible to ignore.Akane felt a thrill of power and desire, her mind racing with the possibilitiesof what she could do to this woman who had just irrevocably altered Ranma'sbody.

But first thingsfirst, Akane had to establish her dominance. "Call me Mistress," shesaid firmly, "Or Mistress Akane." It was a small thing, but it feltright, a declaration of the new dynamic that had been forged in this cold,sterile room. The doctor's eyes flicked up to meet hers, and Akane could seethe hunger in them, the need to submit to Akane's every whim. "And whatshould I call you, my dear doctor?" she asked, her voice a soft purr."After all it was quite rude of yourself not to formally conductintroductions."

"Of courseMistress," the doctor murmured, her eyes sparkling with mischief."You may call me whatever you like, but my name is Jasmine." Akanesmirked at the woman's eagerness to please.

"Good. It'snice to meet you Jasmine." Social Fopaux over, Akane quickly moved over tothe gynecological chair Ranma had just recently vacated and jumped on. Shedidn't flinch as the still warm damp vinyl pressed against her heated skin. Ofcourse, calling it damp was an gross with much Ranma had leaked all over thechair as she was spayed.

Without a word,Jasmine moved to the chair. Her hands were quick and efficient as she adjustedthe stirrup heights to accommodate Akane's shorter stature and thicker thighscompared to Ranma's leaner frame. The metal groaned softly as she locked theminto place. Then, Jasmine knelt gracefully beside Akane's right leg. Her gazewas reverent as she lifted Akane's calf, her fingers tracing the firm musclebeneath the smooth skin. She leaned forward, pressing a soft, lingering kissjust below Akane's knee. Then another, lower, on the taut curve of her calf.Her lips moved with deliberate slowness down to Akane's ankle, each kiss awhisper of devotion against Akane's skin. Finally, she took Akane's foot inboth hands, cradling it like something precious, and pressed a final, warm kissto the arch. The intimacy of the gesture was startling – a silent worship ofAkane's power, written on her very flesh.

Akane watchedJasmine’s descent, a faint smirk playing on her lips. The doctor’s lips weresurprisingly soft against her skin, the kisses trailing heat down her leg. Itfelt good, this unquestioning devotion, this tactile acknowledgment of herdominance. "Don't bother with my feet," Akane said matter-of-factly.Akane tilted her head towards the couch where Ranma lay slumped, her druggedeyes half-open, watching them with bleary fascination. "Ranko will takecare of them when we get home."

Jasmine paused, herhands still cradling Akane’s ankle. She glanced towards Ranma, then back toAkane, her dark eyes gleaming with understanding. "As Mistresscommands," she murmured, her voice thick with reverence. With deliberatecare, she lowered Akane’s leg into the cold metal stirrup. The buckle clickedsoftly as she secured the leather strap around Akane’s calf, snug but notbiting—a mirror to Ranma’s earlier restraints.

Her fingers lingeredfor a heartbeat, tracing the strap’s edge where it met Akane’s skin. The touchwas feather-light, possessive in its intimacy. Akane watched, her breathcatching as Jasmine moved to the other leg. The doctor knelt again, her lipsbrushing the inside of Akane’s knee this time—a slow, wet kiss that lingeredtoo long. Jasmine’s tongue flickered against the sensitive skin, tasting sweatand dominance. Akane’s thighs tensed, a soft gasp escaping her as Jasminerepeated the worshipful descent: calf, ankle, the arch of her foot kissed withthe same unholy devotion. The contrast was intoxicating—Jasmine’s clinicalprecision warped by raw submission.

Jasmine rose slowly,her eyes never leaving Akane’s. She moved up the chair’s side, her shadowfalling over Akane’s left arm. Her fingers slid beneath Akane’s wrist, liftingit with ceremonial slowness. Akane’s pulse hammered against Jasmine’s thumb asthe doctor lowered her head. The first kiss landed on the delicate blue veinsof her inner wrist—soft, lingering, a promise. Then Jasmine’s lips parted. Shetook Akane’s index finger into her mouth, sucking slowly, deeply, as if drawingpoison—or worshiping a sacrament. Her tongue circled the tip, then slid downthe length, hollowing her cheeks. The suction was deliberate, wet, obscene.Akane’s breath hitched; the sensation was electric, a direct line to herthrobbing clit. Jasmine moved to the next finger, then the next, each suckedwith the same unhurried intensity, her eyes locked on Akane’s face, drinking inevery twitch, every suppressed moan. When she reached the pinky, she bitdown—just a teasing nip—before soothing it with her tongue. Only then did she slowlylower Akane’s glistening hand onto the armrest so as not to incur hermistress's wrath, strapping it down with trembling reverence. The leatherbuckle clicked shut, sealing as she strapped the limb down.

Akane narrowed hereyes. The audacity was breathtaking. Jasmine moved with the practiced ease ofsomeone who’d orchestrated this scene countless times—always as the puppeteer,never the puppet. Yet here she was, binding Akane’s wrist with trembling fingers,her breath quickening not with fear, but anticipation. Akane could feel itradiating off her—a coiled, hungry tension. Jasmine *wanted* this. Craved thesurrender, the sting of submission as much as she’d relished wielding theclamp. Akane’s lips curled. Let her play her little game. The straps werelaughable; thick leather meant for breaking horses, not containing Akane Tendo.A single flex of her shoulders, a twist of her hips, and they’d snap likerotten twine. Jasmine knew it. Ranma had known it too. That was the delicioustruth humming beneath the sterile air: Ranma hadn’t been trapped by buckles andvinyl. She’d been bound by her own desperate need to belong—to Akane. If shehadn't wanted it, she'd have never been spayed and circumcised.

Jasmine moved aroundto the back of the chair, her movements fluid and predatory. Her right handghosted up Akane’s left arm, fingertips tracing a phantom path over the smoothskin of her bicep, raising goosebumps in their wake. The touch vanished abruptly,only to reappear trailing down Akane’s right arm with the same deliberateslowness. She grabbed Akane’s wrist, her grip firm but not bruising—yet. Akanewatched, her breath shallow, as Jasmine brought the captured wrist to her lips.The doctor’s eyes locked onto Akane’s, dark pools reflecting the overheadlights, as she began the ritual anew. Her tongue flicked out, tasting the pulsepoint at Akane’s wrist before she sucked the index finger deep into her mouth.The heat, the wet suction, the scrape of teeth—it was a calculated assault,designed to unravel. Jasmine worked methodically, finger by finger, her gazeunwavering, her mouth a furnace of worship. When she reached the pinky, she bitdown—sharper this time—drawing a gasp Akane couldn’t suppress. Jasmine’sanswering smile was pure venom as she lowered the slick hand onto the armrestand secured the strap.

Jasmine leanedforward, her body hovering inches above Akane’s chest. Her long, dark haircascaded down, brushing Akane’s breasts like silk whips. The strands teased herstiffening nipples, a maddening caress that sent jolts straight to her clit.Jasmine’s eyes gleamed with dark amusement. She winked—a quick, insolentflicker—before pulling back. Akane’s skin prickled where the hair had touched,craving more pressure, more friction.

In one fluid motion,Jasmine reached down to the side of the chair and retrieved a thick 3-inch-widewaist strap. She hadn’t been able to use it on Ranma—the placement would haveinterfered with the Neutrasol injections. And by the time she’d been ready tocomplete Ranma’s circumcision, she hadn’t needed it. She threaded the strapthrough metal loops beneath the vinyl seat on the right, then yanked it tautacross Akane’s hips and lower abdomen. The leather bit deep, pinning Akane’spelvis flat against the chair. Akane gasped—not from pain, but from the sudden,brutal immobilization. Her hips strained instinctively against the restraint,testing its limits. It held firm. Jasmine smiled, her knuckles white where shegripped the strap’s buckle. "Comfortable, Mistress?"

Akane’s musclescoiled beneath the strap. She could snap it. Easily. The leather groaned underthe strain, protesting the inhuman power contained within its grip. Jasmineknew. She’d seen Ranma’s strength firsthand—the way tendons stood out likecables beneath bruised skin, the way the chair itself had creaked under herstruggles. Yet Ranma hadn’t broken free. Not truly. Akane’s gaze drifted toJasmine’s face—the doctor’s dark eyes were dilated, her lips slightly parted asshe watched Akane’s restrained power. How many others? Akane wondered. How manywomen had lain pinned exactly like this, feeling Jasmine’s cool fingers trailover their thighs? How many had gasped as Jasmine’s skilled tongue found theirclits, coaxing wave after wave of unbearable pleasure until they wereshuddering, weeping and begging wrecks?

The answer flickeredin Jasmine’s hungry stare. Too many. And every one of them had signed awaytheir pleasure at the peak of ecstasy. Akane’s lips curled. That was Jasmine’sgame. Drown them in sensation until their minds dissolved. Offer oblivion—a cessationof the erotic torment—if they surrendered their clitoris. Consent signed intrembling script while still lost in the aftershocks. Had they regained theirfaculties *before* Jasmine took their pearls? Or only after, when the numbnessset in and the crushing realization hit? Akane imagined them waking days later,fingers probing uselessly between numb, bruised thighs, the memory of Jasmine’smouth on their clit the last, cruel ghost of sensation they’d ever feel.

Akane’s hipsstrained again, a deliberate flex against the biting leather. The strapgroaned, stretching taut. "Not as comfortable as I’ll be with my legsspread wide and you between them," Akane countered, her voice low anddangerous. Two could play at that game. Jasmine’s smile widened, a predatorrecognizing a worthy opponent. She moved with deliberate slowness to the footof the chair, her gaze fixed on Akane’s restrained thighs. Her hands settled onAkane’s inner knees, fingers pressing into the yielding flesh. Akane felt theheat of those palms through her skin. Jasmine pushed.

"O... Does thatmean you've already changed your mind and decided to get your owncircumcision?" Jasmine's voice dripped with mock concern as her thumbs duginto Akane's inner thighs. "Do I need to recall my nurse with a freshsurgical tray and additional consent forms?" Her gaze slid sideways towardthe couch where Ranma lay panting, the cold pack forgotten between hertrembling thighs. "I bet Ranko would love for the two of you to havematching sexes. She'd probably like it even more if she could take your clitjust as you took hers." Jasmine's fingers inched higher, nails scrapingAkane's skin. "I bet she'd even have another orgasm from doing it,wouldn't you?"

Ranma whimpered atthe thought. Akane's narrowed eyes met Ranma's comically wide open ones. Thedrugged girl's expression was a grotesque mask of horrified arousal—lipsparted, cheeks flushed, pupils blown wide. A fresh trickle of blood seeped fromher crushed labia onto the couch cushion. Ranma's fingers twitched toward herown ruined sex, then jerked away as if burned. Her gaze flickered betweenAkane's restrained legs and Jasmine's predatory smile. "I... I wouldn't...Akane, I swear..." she slurred, her voice thick with tears and residualpleasure. The denial was weak, unconvincing. Akane saw the truth flicker inRanma's dilated pupils—the desperate hunger to inflict equal devastation, toreclaim power through shared mutilation.

But beneath thatdesire was a greater truth, that she'd only do it if Akane wanted it, asked forit just as she had. Ranma’s trembling fingers curled into the couch, knuckleswhite. Her gaze, locked on Akane’s restrained form, held a raw, pleading intensity.It wasn’t just fear of punishment holding her back; it was the shatteredremnants of her own devotion. She’d surrendered her pleasure at Akane’scommand, endured the crushing agony because Akane decreed it. To reverse thatdynamic, to take Akane’s clit without explicit, undeniable permission? It wouldunravel the very foundation of their twisted bond. Ranma’s breath hitched, awet, ragged sound. Her loyalty, forged in pain and humiliation, was the onlything left anchoring her to sanity. To violate Akane’s body without consentwould be to destroy herself utterly.

"I'm afraidyou'll find no help from Ranko, doctor," Akane said, her voice a low,confident purr that vibrated through the sterile air. She didn’t flinch asJasmine cranked the stirrups wider, the cold metal biting into the backs of herthighs, spreading her open with clinical precision. Akane’s hips remainedfirmly anchored by the waist strap, the flower of her sex in full view.

The harsh overheadlights left nothing to imagination. Akane’s vulva glistened, slick with her ownarousal, the inner folds flushed a deep, inviting pink against her darker outerlips. She remembered the girl she’d been – awkward, self-conscious, always comparingherself to others. That girl had vanished the moment Ranma had chosen *her*above all others. That choice had been a seed. Conquering Ranma’s wild spirit,breaking her resistance and molding her into a creature of desperate devotion,had watered it. Now, every time Ranma’s trembling hands or reverent tonguetouched her, every time she saw the raw hunger in Ranma’s eyes as she gazedupon her body, that seed bloomed into fierce, unshakeable pride. She wasdesired. She was powerful. She was *wanted*. And she wore that certainty likearmor.

"Shall I beginthe examination, Mistress?" she murmured, her voice a low hum ofanticipation. Akane’s eyes narrowed, catching the subtle challenge in thedoctor’s gaze—a flicker of the puppeteer still attempting to test her strings.

"**Yes,Doctor,**" Akane commanded, her voice sharp and authoritative as shestressed the woman’s title. "Show me what you can do with that talentedmouth of yours. Worship me properly." The words sliced through the sterileair, leaving no room for ambiguity. Jasmine might be a spider lying in her webwaiting to catch her meal, but Akane wasn’t a fly. If anything, she’d be adragonfly, ready to swoop down and pluck her right out of her web.

Jasmine obeyedinstantly, sinking gracefully to her knees between the cold metal stirrups. Hereyes never left Akane’s face as she leaned forward, her dark hair brushing theinsides of Akane’s thighs. She paused, her nose hovering inches from Akane’sglistening folds, and inhaled deeply. The sound was audible—a long, deliberatedrag of air through flared nostrils, savoring the musky sweetness of Akane’sarousal mixed with the faint, sterile scent of antiseptic clinging to thevinyl. Jasmine’s eyelids fluttered closed for a brief moment, a tremor runningthrough her shoulders. "Divine," she breathed, the word thick withreverence and something darker, hungrier.

This was Jasmine’ssacrament. The scent of a powerful woman—untouched by male hands, unbroken bysubmission—strapped down and blooming with primal need. It was the fragrance ofdominance distilled, the pheromonal signature of an Alpha female radiating strengtheven in vulnerability. Clipping such women, crushing their pleasure centerswhile they convulsed in ecstasy or agony… that was Jasmine’s true addiction. Itwasn’t just about control; it was about defiling perfection, about reducing aforce of nature to a shuddering, numb wreck. The thrill lay in thecontradiction: the stronger the woman, the sweeter her surrender. Akane’sscent, potent and untamed, promised the ultimate high.

Her tongue was aprecision instrument, honed by years of mapping pleasure points. She began withbroad, flat strokes against Akane’s outer labia, warm and wet, gatheringslickness. Each pass was deliberate, assessing the subtle shifts in Akane’sbreathing, the minute tightening of her thighs against the stirrups. Jasminecataloged every response: the sharp intake of breath when her tongue traced thesensitive junction where thigh met vulva, the faint tremor in Akane’s abdomenwhen the tip flickered against the hooded swell of her clitoris without directcontact. She mapped Akane’s landscape like a cartographer charting forbiddenterritory—the shallow dip above her clit, the ridges of her inner folds, thehidden sensitivity just inside her entrance. Jasmine’s movements wereunhurried, methodical, a scientist gathering data before the main experiment.She lingered where Akane’s hips gave an involuntary lift, teased where herbreath hitched. She tasted salt and musk and power, committing every nuance tomemory.

"You know,Doctor," Akane’s voice cut through the humid silence, sharp and cleardespite the tremors Jasmine’s tongue was coaxing from her core. She paused,letting the accusation hang in the antiseptic air thick with the scent ofarousal and vinyl. "I’ve been thinking about your little collection. Allthose Polaroids. All those… trophies." Akane’s hips lifted slightly,pressing her sex against Jasmine’s hovering mouth in a silent challenge."How many women have you broken? How many clits have you crushed afterdrowning them in pleasure?" Her gaze pinned Jasmine, cold and demanding."Tell me. How many signed their consent while they were still shudderingfrom your tongue?"

Jasmine pulled back,her lips slick and glistening. A slow, unsettling smile spread across her face,devoid of warmth. "Including Ranko?" she murmured, her voice thickwith reverence and something darker, primal. "Three hundred seventy-eight."The number landed like a hammer blow. "Three hundred seventy-eightcircumcisions." Her eyes drifted past Akane, unfocused, seeing ghosts."And I make sure to review the pictures of each and every one of themoften." Her fingers traced idle patterns on Akane’s inner thigh. "SoI never forget." Her gaze snapped back to Akane’s face, intense andchillingly intimate. "Never forget what I’ve done to their bodies… totheir minds." Her thumb brushed the slick hood guarding Akane’s clit."What I’ve robbed them of." Her voice dropped to a raw whisper."Just as mine was."

Akane’s breathhitched, not from fear, but from the sheer, terrifying scope of it. Threehundred seventy-eight women. Three hundred seventy-eight pearls crushed,excised, destroyed. Including Ranma’s, lying bruised and dying feet away. Threehundred seventy-eight women who would never get to orgasm again. Each one atestament to Jasmine’s skill, her obsession, and each Polaroid a trophy of asoul shattered at the peak of sensation. The sterile room suddenly felt crowdedwith phantoms – women who’d walked in whole and left hollow, their pleasurecenters turned to numb, decaying flesh. Jasmine’s eyes held a terrifying hungeras they locked onto Akane’s core. The doctor wasn’t just kneeling; she wascoiled, a predator scenting her ultimate prize. Three hundred seventy-eight.Akane understood the unspoken promise blazing in those dark depths: she wasdestined to be number three hundred seventy-nine. Jasmine wouldn’t just clipher; she’d savor the destruction of Akane’s fierce, untamed power, reducing herto another trembling ghost in her macabre collection.

The meaning of thosenumbers wasn’t lost on her, and it was no wonder Jasmine was being so forwardas she pushed Akane’s boundaries. Three hundred seventy-eight. Three, seven,eight. A trio of lucky numbers layered with dark significance. Three – the combinationof one and two, representing creation, the flow of time (past, present,future), and the trinity of body, mind, and spirit. Jasmine sought to violateall three: the body through mutilation, the mind through shattered pleasure,the spirit through broken will. Seven – completion, perfection, the divine.Jasmine chased the perverse perfection of total erotic annihilation. Eight –infinity turned inward, endless cycles. The doctor was trapped in her own cycleof defilement. And the way Jasmine pronounced it the three as it was used whencounting as *mittsu* echoed *mitsu*, honey. Not prosperity, but the thick,cloying sweetness pooling between Akane’s own thighs, the honey Jasmine wasdesperate to taste before turning it sour forever. This wasn’t worship; it wasa prelude to sacrilege.

Then there was thenumber nine. *Ku*. Suffering. Agony. Emptiness. The void. Akane’s clit would benumber three hundred seventy-nine. Three hundred seventy-nine. Three, seven,nine. The culmination. The final step before the perfect ten. Nine symbolized theultimate suffering Jasmine craved to inflict. The agony of a goddess broughtlow. The emptiness where pleasure once roared. The void left behind. Jasmine’stongue, a viper tasting nectar, paused millimeters from Akane’s exposed pearl.Her dark eyes lifted, locking onto Akane’s, reflecting the harsh overhead lightlike polished obsidian. "Three hundred seventy-nine," Jasminebreathed, the number a caress and a curse. "The number of suffering. Thevoid where your fire used to burn." Her breath, hot and damp, washed overAkane’s slick folds. "I will make you *ku*."

Jasmine’s tonguereturned, a hot, insistent pressure against Akane’s swollen outer lips. Sheparted them with deliberate slowness, exposing the slick, trembling inner foldsflushed a deep, vulnerable pink. The tip of Jasmine’s tongue traced thedelicate ridge where inner labia met thigh, a feather-light caress that sentelectric shivers radiating up Akane’s spine. Akane’s hips strained against theleather strap, a futile instinct to arch into the touch, to seek more friction,more pressure. Jasmine denied her, pulling back slightly, her breath hotagainst Akane’s wet skin. She inhaled again, deeply, savoring the potent musk,the scent of Akane’s untouched power. Her eyes, dark and fathomless, lockedonto Akane’s clitoris, still hidden beneath its protective hood. The promisewas palpable: she would uncover it, taste its peak, and then… break it. Justlike the others. Just like Ranma. Akane’s clit throbbed in response, atraitorous pulse of anticipation mixed with primal dread. Three hundredseventy-eight ghosts crowded the room, whispering of numbness and loss.

"You cantry," Akane said, her voice low and steady, cutting through the humidtension. It wasn’t defiance; it was absolute conviction, cold and sharp assurgical steel. "But you will fail." Jasmine paused, her tonguehovering millimeters from Akane’s exposed entrance. Her dark eyes flicked up,meeting Akane’s unwavering gaze. A flicker of surprise, quickly masked bypredatory interest, crossed her face. Akane continued, her words precise,deliberate, laying down the gauntlet. "And when you fail…" She paused,letting the implication hang thick in the sterile air, heavy with the scent ofher arousal and Jasmine’s hunger. "...you’ll belong to me. Just likeRanko." There it was. The challenge issued, the terms stated. Akane’s clit– the symbol of her untamed power, the source of every future orgasm she mightnever have – versus Jasmine’s freedom, her very self. Enslavement. Jasmine’slips curled into a slow, dangerous smile. Her tongue darted out, tastingAkane’s declaration on the air. The stakes were impossibly high, the prizeirresistible. She leaned forward, her intent clear.

There was just oneproblem with the doctor’s plan, a single but critical flaw she hadn’t accountedfor. That flaw was Ranma. Jasmine had dismissed her as a broken, drugged wreck,focused solely on Akane’s imminent submission. She hadn’t considered the martialarts prodigy beneath the trauma. Ranma could learn techniques at a frighteningpace, sometimes just from seeing them performed once. And those abilities bledinto *everything*, including the bedroom. Jasmine’s tongue work was skilled,methodical – the result of years of clinical practice. But Ranma? Ranma’sAmaguriken Tongue Technique was pure, instinctive genius, a blur of impossiblespeed and precision Jasmine could only dream of. Akane had felt it countlesstimes – a thousand targeted flicks in a single heartbeat, each one landing withdevastating accuracy. Jasmine’s approach was a scalpel; Ranma’s was a lightningstorm. She'd survived her fiancé, so there wasn't a single doubt she wouldn'tsurvive the doctor. The battle was truly over before it had even started.

Still Jasmineknowingly accepted the wager and attacked Akane’s clit like a woman possessed.There was no more tentative exploration, no gentle worship this time. Hertongue became a weapon honed by countless victories – a scalpel of puresensation. She bypassed the hood entirely, her lips sealing around the swollenpearl itself, sucking hard, pulling it into the wet heat of her mouth. Akanegasped, her hips jerking violently against the biting leather strap. Jasminedidn’t relent. She knew *exactly* where to strike. Her tongue flickered againstthe frenulum beneath the clitoral shaft – a spot Akane hadn’t known existed –sending jolts of pure electricity arcing up her spine. Simultaneously,Jasmine’s fingers found the hypersensitive ridge just inside Akane’s entrance,her g-spot, rubbing firm, rhythmic circles. It was an overload, a brutalsymphony of sensation orchestrated by a maestro of pleasure and pain. Jasmine’seyes burned with fierce determination; she wasn’t just tasting Akane, she wasdissecting her pleasure, forcing her towards the precipice where surrender feltlike salvation.

'O she’s good…' wasAkane's last coherent thought she gave herself over to the experienced andall-consuming attentions of Jasmine.

~*~

She'd won. She'dbeaten the good doctor at her own game. Akane emerged from the clinic severalhours later, her head held high and a shit-eating grin plastered across herflushed face. The sterile air of the waiting room felt like liberation afterthe humid intensity of the examination room. Her steps were light, almostbouncing, as she pushed through the heavy glass doors into the twilight. Thecool evening breeze kissed her skin, a stark contrast to the searing heatJasmine’s tongue had ignited – and failed to extinguish. In her hand swung aplain paper bag, its contents rustling with each confident stride. Inside laythe mundane necessities: post-op pamphlets detailing Ranma’s grim recoverytimeline, bottles of potent painkillers and broad-spectrum antibiotics to staveoff infection, and a fresh stack of disposable cameras ready to document theinevitable decay. But nestled among these, written on a crisp, embossed cliniccard, was the true trophy: Jasmine’s personal contact information, annotatedwith a trembling hand – *‘On call. Always Mistress.’*

Ranma's hand wasdraped around her shoulder for support; the redhead leaned heavily against her.Her eyes were still glazed and legs wobbly from the intense ordeal she'dendured. Akane felt a strange mix of satisfaction and protectiveness towardsher fiancée, a bond forged through pain and pleasure that was unlike anythingshe'd ever experienced before or would likely experience again.

Unless, of course,the idiot ever got it into his head to try dipping his wick elsewhere withouther permission. Then? Akane’s gaze drifted downwards, a predatory glint in hereyes. Then they’d be back. And the clinic already had very specific tools for dealingwith troublesome balls. She pictured it vividly: Ranma strapped back in thatchair, whimpering as Jasmine coldly explained how she was going to cut hisballs out of their protective sack and place them in a jar of formaldehyde.She'd make sure to permanently display them for everyone to see. Akane’sfingers tightened possessively on Ranma’s waist. *He wouldn’t dare.*

"Thank you,Ranma," Akane broke out of her stupor and murmured, her voice thick withgratitude and completely devoid of her previous dark thoughts. "You haveno idea just how much I appreciate this, your sacrifice." Her handcaressed Ranma's cheek, feeling the warmth of her skin. Ranma's eyes searchedhers, a silent question in their depths. Akane leaned in, her lips brushingagainst Ranma's in a gentle kiss. "This means everything to me," shewhispered, her thumb stroking the curve of Ranma's jaw.

Ranma's breathhitched, the words resonating through her. The pain was still there, a dullthrob between her legs that served as a constant reminder of what she'd justgone through. But in that moment, the love in Akane's eyes was all thatmattered. She knew that Akane had finally found something within herself thatshe hadn't known was there, a dominance that was both terrifying and exciting.The way she'd claimed her, taken control in such a raw, primal way—it was agift that Ranma knew she'd never get from anyone else.

"I love youtoo, Akane," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. The wordswere a declaration of her complete and utter surrender to Akane's will. Sheknew that she would always give Akane anything truly desired. She'd endure anyamount of pain, to submit in every way possible, if it meant keeping her love.

Compared to Akane'slove, what Ranma had given up in that cold, sterile room felt almostinsignificant. The love that had propelled her to submit to such a brutal actwas a force more powerful than any curse. The loss of her ability to bearchildren, to experience pleasure in the way she once had, was a stark contrastto the warmth and intensity of Akane's affection. But as she leaned intoAkane's embrace, her heart swelled with a love that transcended physicalsensation. It was a love that promised a future filled with new forms ofintimacy and connection, a love that would shape their lives together in waysneither could have ever imagined.

Akane had insistedher new slave hail a taxi, an expensive proposition which Jasmine had quicklyacquiesced to. As such the trip home was indeed a blur of sensation for Ranma.The pain between her legs was a constant companion, a pulsing reminder of the priceshe'd paid for Akane's happiness. Each step sent a jolt through her, a sharpreminder of her new reality. Yet amidst the pain, there was a strange serenity.She knew that she had given Akane something precious, something that would bindthem together forever. And in return, Akane had given her something equallyprecious—the knowledge that she was cherished, that she was loved beyondmeasure.

Entering theirapartment, Akane's heels clicked against the hardwood floor, a sound thatechoed through the quiet space. She walked over to the couch and sank into thesoft cushions with a contented sigh, her legs stretching out before her.Ranma's gaze followed her every movement, her eyes never leaving Akane's as sheknelt before her.

With long practicedhands, Ranma began to remove Akane's shoes, her eyes never straying from thetask at hand. Each item of clothing was removed with the care and reverence ofa sacred ritual, as if by doing so she could somehow atone for her past mistakes.Akane watched her, a gentle smile playing on her lips, the power dynamics intheir relationship now crystal clear and undisputed.

Once Akane's sockswere off, Ranma took a moment to admire the soft, pale skin of her feet. Theywere a stark contrast to the rest of her body, which was now a canvas ofbruises and bite marks from the doctor's attentions. Akane's toes curledslightly in anticipation as Ranma leaned in, her breath hot against her skin.The redhead's tongue traced the arch of Akane's foot, the sensation sending ajolt of pleasure through her body.

Ranma'sministrations were gentle at first, a soft worship of Akane's dominance. Shekissed each toe, her lips lingering on the smoothness of her fiancée's skin.Akane's eyes closed, her head falling back against the couch as Ranma's mouthmoved up to her ankles, her teeth grazing the sensitive flesh. Each touch, eachkiss, was a silent promise of her submission, a declaration of her love anddevotion.

But as Akane grewmore relaxed, her own sadistic desires began to re-emerge. "So slut,"she murmured, her eyes snapping open to gaze down at Ranma. "Should I stopfeeding you all those aphrodisiacs, or would you prefer to remain horny and desperate?"The question hung in the air like a challenge, a reminder of the control Akanenow held over what remained of Ranma's sexuality.

Her free foottraveled up Ranma's body, teasing her stomach before coming to rest on hercrotch. The doctor had done a thorough job, and Ranma's genitals were a mess ofbruises and swollen flesh, the remnants of her clit a sad, crushed little nub.Akane toyed with the tender flesh, watching the play of emotions on Ranma'sface. Pain, desperation, and an undiminished arousal that was a testament tothe potent cocktail of aphrodisiacs she'd been given. Yet more importantly nopleasure.

Ranma's eyes neverleft Akane's, her mouth continuing to kiss and lick every inch of her foot, herown desires permanently set aside in favor of her Mistress's. "Whateveryou wish Mistress," she murmured.

Akane's handtightened in Ranma's hair, pulling her up to meet her eyes. "That'sright," she said with a sadistic smile. "And I intend to keep you hotand horny for the rest of your life. But remember this," she leaned in,her voice low and menacing as she grabbed Ranma by her pigtail, "step outof line and we'll go back and have your cunt sealed, consequences be damned. Soact like a bitch in heat all you want, but if you try to take care of itwithout my say so be prepared."

Ranma gulped, thepain in her clit a constant reminder of Akane's control over her. She nodded,her eyes never leaving Akane's. "Yes, Mistress," she murmured, hervoice filled with a mix of fear and longing. Akane's grip on her hair tightenedbriefly before releasing her.

~*~

The one thing no onementioned anymore was that the change to their relationship had started whenRanma had truly been cursed with uncontrollable arousal. It had been a lastgasp scheme by Shampoo before she left for home for the last time, meant toforce Ranma into impregnating her. But as with all of her plans it wentcompletely off the sideways when Mousse had accidentally splashed him withwater just as the potion started taking effect. The splash triggered his curse,transforming him into her female form just as the potion took hold.

It was specificallyformulated for men, with disastrous consequences when used on a female. Insteadof forcing Ranma to impregnate her, Shampoo watched in horror as Ranma's femaleform became consumed by an insatiable, agonizing need that no touch could satisfy.Cologne herself had stated there were no known cases of anyone recovering. Thepotion had been designed to bypass male refractory periods and create anendless, torturous drive for penetration. In a female body, it became a cruelmockery—every nerve ending screamed for release that anatomy couldn't provide.

They'd triedeverything. Dr. Tofu had looked Ranma over, his gentle hands trembling as heperformed examination after examination, his usual calm replaced by a deepeningfrown. He tried every herbal remedy, every pressure point technique, everyobscure treatment from his medical texts. Cologne delayed her departure, herancient face etched with rare concern. She pored over scrolls brittle with age,made hushed, frantic calls back to China on a crackling phone line, her voicesharp with urgency. In a last gasp, they even turned to modern medicine. Ranmaendured blood tests that filled vial after vial, neurological scans with wirestaped to her temples, invasive examinations under blinding lights. The doctorsconferred in low, baffled tones. The results? Utterly normal. Perfect health,except for the relentless, screaming fire between her legs. In the end, thewhite-coated specialists could only offer a sterile, useless label: AcuteNymphomania. Incurable. Untreatable. A life sentence of unendurable hunger.

The curse itselfbecame a death sentence. Only once had they attempted to transform Ranma backinto his male form – a simple splash of warm water before his body went intoviolent, catastrophic revolt. It started subtly: a sudden, crushing pressure inhis chest, like an anvil settling on his ribs, making breathing a ragged gasp.Then came the blinding headaches, sharp stabs behind his eyes that made theworld pulse with agony. His heart would hammer against his ribs like a franticbird trapped in a cage, its rhythm erratic, terrifyingly fast. Sweat would pouroff him, cold and clammy, while his skin flushed a deep, dangerous crimson.Cologne witnessed it once, her eyes wide with horror. "The potion,"she rasped, her voice thick with dread, "it binds to the female essence ofher cursed body... causing her to reject her own male form now. The energiestear him apart from the inside." One transformation lasted barely thirtyseconds before Ranma collapsed, convulsing, blue at the lips, his male heartstraining towards arrest. Genma, for once truly terrified, doused him with hotwater instantly, reverting him to the shuddering, gasping female form that wasnow his only viable existence. The message was brutal and clear: Ranma Saotome,the boy, was effectively dead. Staying female wasn't just about theunquenchable fire; it was the only way to stay alive.

Ranma had spentweeks writhing, screaming into pillows, clawing at herself until Akaneintervened. She hadn’t lied when she said she found Ranma in the boy’s lockerroom, ready to serve the entire soccer team. The memory was etched in Akane’smind with brutal clarity: the smell of sweat and desperation, the flickeringfluorescent lights casting long shadows on the grimy tiles. Ranma had been onher knees, trembling violently, her eyes wide and unfocused, pupils blown widewith agony. Ranma hadn't even been coherent, just babbling pleas and fragmentedpromises, offering herself to anyone, anything, just to make the relentless,impossible pressure stop for a single second. Akane hadn't yelled. She hadn'tscreamed. She'd simply walked in, grabbed Ranma by the scruff of her neck likea stray kitten, and dragged her out, ignoring the stunned silence and theteam’s muttered protests.

That had been thefinal straw for Akane. She hadn’t even bothered trying to locate Ranma’sclothes as she carried the squirming, naked girl over her shoulder like a sackof rice. Ranma’s desperate struggles were pathetic against Akane’s grimdetermination. The walk home felt endless, Ranma’s muffled sobs and chokedwhimpers vibrating against Akane’s back, her skin fever-hot even through thethin fabric of Akane’s shirt. The sheer, raw vulnerability radiating from Ranmaignited something primal and possessive deep within Akane. This wasn't just herfiancé; this was *hers* to control, to protect, to dominate.

That had been thefinal straw for Akane, and she hadn’t even bothered trying to locate Ranma’scloths as she carried the squirming girl over her shoulder like a sack of rice.The moment she had her in her room, she’d tied her spread eagle to her bed. She’dthem spent the next 24hrs ravaging the red-head, while at the same time forcingher to serve her every desire.

For the nexttwenty-four hours, Akane became a relentless engine of dominance and desire.She ravaged Ranma repeatedly, taking her own pleasure with fierce abandon,using fingers, mouth, and even the handle of her hairbrush to penetrate theslick, desperate heat. Yet this wasn't just about Akane's release; it was acalculated assertion of total control. Between bouts of raw, animalistic sex,she forced Ranma to serve her every whim. She demanded water, forcing Ranma tohold the glass awkwardly with bound hands, spilling it down her chin. She evencommanded Ranma to lick her sweaty feet clean after she went to a run to clearher head before she took her dominance too far.

Shockingly, it hadworked. Akane discovered that her increasingly brutal dominance couldtemporarily soothe Ranma's insatiable fire. The sheer intensity of thesubmission, the focus on Akane's pleasure and commands, created a strange,fragile peace within Ranma's tortured mind. It was a counterweight to theagony, a pressure valve that allowed her to breathe. This was likely why theAmazons considered it incurable; in their female-dominated society, who woulddare try to physically dominate one of their warriors with such unrelentingferocity? Who would even conceive of breaking a powerful fighter through sexualcontrol and pain? Their culture revered female strength; the idea of crushingit to provide relief was unthinkable.

Akane, fueled bypossessive fury and a terrifying new understanding of her own capacity forcruelty, had stumbled onto the only viable solution: absolute ownership. Leftwith no other choice, she decided to break the Wild Horse. For the next threemonths, she controlled every minute aspect of Ranma’s life as she molded herinto a submissive sex slave. Akane dictated when Ranma slept, what she ate,when she could relieve herself, and how long she spent kneeling at Akane’s feeteach morning until given instruction. Ranma’s world shrank to the dimensions ofthat Akane's room and the narrow path between it and the bathroom, where Akanesupervised every shower, scrubbing Ranma raw with a stiff brush while theredhead trembled under the icy spray. Pleasure, for Ranma, became a distantmemory, the unanswerable ache between her own legs that served as a constantbackdrop to her existence and only soothed when she did what she was toldwithout question or hesitation. Akane’s dominance was the only anchor in the stormof Ranma’s curse, a brutal harbor that offered respite only through completesurrender.

Then, just assuddenly as the potion had taken effect, it was over. For the first time inmonths, Ranma woke up completely clear-headed. The agonizing, unquenchable firethat had consumed her every waking moment was simply… gone. She lay still inAkane’s bed, blinking in the dim morning light filtering through the curtains.The silence inside her own mind was profound, almost deafening. No desperatewhispers urging her to seek release, no phantom sensations clawing at hernerves. Just stillness. Yet, the effects from Akane’s training persisted. Theingrained responses were bone-deep. Her body instinctively tensed, awaitinginstruction. Her gaze automatically sought Akane, sleeping beside her, herbreathing slow and even. The urge to slide silently from the bed and kneel onthe cold floor beside her Mistress was immediate, almost overwhelming. Thetraining to her mind, body, and soul remained, etched into her reflexes and hersense of self.

Without training,Akane had molded the perfect submissive to meet her every need, expectation,and desire. The raw, instinctive dominance she'd unleashed during thosetorturous months had forged Ranma's very core into something new—a creature ofdevotion who found profound peace in surrender. Even more surprisingly was thatRanma *wanted* to stay that way. The clarity after the curse lifted hadn'tbrought relief; it brought terrifying emptiness. The silence in her mind feltlike abandonment, a void where the agonizing fire had been replaced by coldstillness. Only Akane's commands, her expectations, her presence filled thatvoid. Submission wasn't a cage; it was sanctuary.

Even when hetransformed back to his birth form—a rare, carefully controlled splash of warmwater under Akane's watchful eye—his desire to serve barely diminished. Themale body felt alien, clumsy, a costume worn poorly. The ingrained reflexesremained: the instinct to kneel, the need to seek Akane's approval with hiseyes, the deep-seated craving for her foot against his throat. The core of him,now irrevocably hers, remained unchanged.

That morning, they'dgone straight to Dr. Tofu. The gentle physician, after conducting yet anothermeticulous examination—palpating Ranma's abdomen, checking reflexes, listeningintently to his heart—concurred with hesitant relief that the unnatural nymphomaniaseemed to have burned itself out. "Physiologically, everything appears...normal," he murmured, adjusting his glasses, unable to meet Ranma'sintense gaze. "The neurological hyperactivity has ceased."

Before Dr. Tofucould launch into cautious advice about recovery or potential trauma, Ranma cuthim off. His voice was low, rough, but utterly devoid of hesitation."Doc," he said, his eyes fixed unwaveringly on Akane beside him,"is there anything? A pill? An injection? Something to... put me back.Like before." The request hung in the sterile air of the examination room,thick and shocking. Dr. Tofu froze, his stethoscope slipping from his fingersto clatter against the metal cabinet. Akane’s breath hitched, her knuckleswhitening where they gripped the edge of the examination table. She hadn’tanticipated this raw, desperate *need* for the chains she’d forged.

Dr. Tofu’s gentleface crumpled into dismay. "Ranma-kun... the suffering... it wasinhuman!" He gestured helplessly towards the charts detailing months ofagony. "Why would you *want* that torment again?"

Ranma didn't flinch.His gaze, locked onto Akane’s, burned with terrifying certainty. "Itwasn't torment when Akane owned it." The raw declaration hung in thesterile air, stripping away any pretense. Akane’s knuckles whitened on theexamination table edge, a flicker of possessive pride igniting in her grey-blueeyes. She remained silent, letting Ranma’s words weave their own damningtapestry.

It had taken Akane'smost terrifying glare, Ranma's unnerving calm insistence, and a thick envelopeof cash discreetly slid across Dr. Tofu's desk to overcome his horrifiedobjections. The gentle physician's hands shook as he prepared the syringe, hisface pale beneath his glasses. "This... this is derived from concentratedextracts," he stammered, avoiding their eyes. "It induces profound,uncontrollable arousal. Agonizingly intense." Ranma simply rolled up hissleeve, his expression serene yet expectant, focused only on Akane's approvingnod. The needle slid in. Within moments, Ranma gasped, his eyes fluttering shutas a familiar, desperate heat flooded his veins, hotter and sharper thanbefore, a wildfire instantly consuming his newly restored peace. He slumpedforward, a low moan escaping his lips, his body trembling violently against theexamination table. Dr. Tofu looked ill. Akane merely smiled, a predator like asatisfied and guided her trembling fiancée out after splashing him with coldwater, Ranma already leaning heavily into her touch, seeking the anchor onlyAkane could provide.

Back home, Akanesettled onto the couch, Ranma instinctively sinking to her knees before her.Akane watched her fiancée’s trembling hands reverently remove her shoes andsocks, her gaze sharp and assessing. As Ranma’s lips pressed against her arch,Akane’s voice cut through the quiet room, crisp and utterly devoid of mercy."You know what this means, slut," she stated, her foot pressing downfirmly on Ranma’s crotch, eliciting a sharp gasp of mingled pain and desperatearousal. "Now that you’re *willingly* putting yourself in this situation?I’m going to be even more strict." Her toes dug deliberately into wet andflushed sex. "That means relief will be coming fewer and fartherbetween." Akane leaned forward, her eyes locking onto Ranma’s dilatedpupils. "I plan to keep you exactly where you belong: a hot, horny,desperate slut. Forever."

True to her chillingpromise, Akane sculpted Ranma’s existence into a masterpiece of controlledtorment. Relief became a myth whispered in the depths of Ranma’s need. Akaneorchestrated it all: denying touch until Ranma trembled uncontrollably, forcingher to kneel motionless for hours while arousal slicked her thighs, or bindingher tightly just to watch Akane pleasure herself inches away. The fire Dr. Tofuinjected burned hotter than the original curse, a constant, gnawing ache thatRanma craved like air. She existed in a state of perpetual, desperatereadiness, her mind fogged by lust, finding profound solace only in Akane’sstern commands and the crushing weight of her Mistress’s foot on her throat orgroin. This wasn’t suffering; it was belonging etched in agony.

The revelation cameunexpectedly during a quiet evening. A documentary flickered on the screen –stark images of African villages, solemn ceremonies, and the clinical term*female circumcision*. Akane watched, her expression unreadable, a fingerabsently tracing Ranma’s collarbone where she knelt, head resting on Akane’sthigh. Ranma’s eyes were fixed not on the screen, but on the serene acceptanceetched on the faces of the girls undergoing the ritual. A profound stillnesssettled over her. The raw vulnerability, the surrender to a permanentalteration… it resonated deep within her own forged core. This wasn’t horror;it was recognition. A silent understanding passed between them, thicker thanwords. Akane’s fingers stilled. Ranma tilted her head up, meeting Akane’s gaze.No plea, no fear – only a silent, desperate yearning reflected back. Theunspoken desire hung heavy: to make the external match the internal void, toseal the devotion physically, irrevocably.

As they say the restis now history...

~*~

Back in the present,Akane was reminded of a play date she'd arranged and hadn't told Ranma about ityet. "By the way, Ranma," Akane said casually as Ranma finished withher first foot and began worshiping the other. She pressed her sole firmlyagainst Ranma's mouth, feeling the desperate flutter of lips against her skin."I invited Jasmine over next Friday." The words hung in the air,casual as discussing groceries.

Ranma's eyes snappedher work, her heart racing. "The doctor?"

"Yes,Jasmine," Akane said with a knowing smirk. "She'll want to check onher handiwork, and I want to show her just how obedient you can be."Akane's eyes gleamed with excitement at the thought, the power of the situationnot lost on her. "And I'm not just talking about your female side,slut," she continued, her voice dropping to a seductive whisper. "Iwant to introduce her to your male side, too. So, you better perform to thebest of your abilities"

Ranma felt a shiverrun down her spine, the anticipation of what was to come making her clit throbpainfully. The thought of being used by both Akane and Jasmine was bothterrifying and incredibly arousing. She knew that she had no choice but tosubmit to whatever they had planned for her.

"Yes,Mistress," she murmured, her voice thick with need. Akane's smile grewwider at the sound of her submission. "That's the spirit," she said,her hand sliding down to stroke Ranma's cheek. "You're going to be aperfect little slut for us."

Male or female Akanewas the mistress, and if she wanted to fool around that was her choice. But ifRanma ever tried to get his dick wet, he could expect a one-way trip to theclinic to be neutered before being thrown to the curb. That was the unspoken rulethat hung in the air between them, a stark reminder of the power dynamics thathad been established that fateful day. Ranma knew that she'd have to be on herbest behavior, or she'd face the same fate that had been so cruelly denied toher.

With nothing more tobe said, Ranma turned all of her attention back to worshiping Akane's feet. Herthoughts drifted back to the operating room, where she had been strapped to thecold, unforgiving chair, watching Akane and Jasmine's twisted dance of dominanceand desire. The memory of the doctor's skilled mouth and fingers on Akane'sswollen clit, the smell of sex mingling with antiseptic, filled Ranma's mind.She could almost feel the vibrations of their combined pleasure reverberatingthrough the room, a silent testament to Akane's power.

The thought of Jasmine'sexotic skin tone was like a siren's call to both her and Akane. She had feltthe doctor's hands on her, had seen the way her dark eyes had glinted withhunger and cruelty as she'd destroyed her sex. And now, the idea of experiencingthat opposite side of the coin for herself was a tantalizing prospect. She knewthat Jasmine was skilled, that she knew the human body inside and out. But itwas the thought of the doctor's sadistic streak bring her pleasure instead ofjust pain that really got Ranma's blood pumping.

The End

Note at end: Don’tknow Japanese or what the numbers mean in their various superstitions. All Idid was a google search and this was what I got. I then took liberty on howthey would combine…
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Her Prerogative