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"Aren't you the cutest?"
Spoken through razor sharp teeth that you can't help but tense from, remembering how they felt when he sunk them into your flesh. You don't reply, too shy to manage an answer. Dottore grins at you, drinking up your precious figure. You're a petite 6 year old little girl in his care, reduced to nothing but an experiment at the ripe age for being a 1st grader.
"Awww, is my little patient shy?" Dottore brushes your hair away from your face, earning your face to burn a hotter red. You flutter your eyes at him, earning him to pet you. "I know, I know." He laughs at you, easing a leather gloved thumb over your chin. "You're still so little... But I can't help but yearn to rip you into shreds." He hums. "When I do it, I do it out of love."
His menacing tone sends a shiver down your spine, so you remain as tense as can be. "Please..." You mutter, still hopeful for a way out despite having been here for around a month. "Stop it... I'm scared..."
Once more, he laughs. "I know, and that's just adorable." Dottore smirks, reaching over to grab a knife from the metal tray displaying some of his tools. Your stomach drops, mind racing with fantasies of him gutting you open and eating you from the inside. "Shhh, relax. It'll only hurt worse if you squirm." He warns in a soft tone, trailing the blade across your thigh. "Please- mister, stop!" You cry out, trying to shake free from the torture.
The blade stings, blood leaking from the wound he made. You whimper, hating the cold steel and how precise it is, like being a dissected little frog, but you're not a frog— you're a fragile little girl, and that's why Dottore loves you so much. "Shhh, darling," he continues, slicing your small thigh open.
Suddenly, the knife is pulled away, but before you can get a gasp of relief out, he shoves his finger in the hole, earning a scream from you. "Stop! Please!" Your vision blurs from tears, but you still know he's between your thighs, knelt before you. "Come on, darling. It'll be alright." He says softly, thrusting his finger in and out of the wound, making you sob harder.
"S-stop!" You scream again. "I- I hate you!"
Dottore lets out a dreamy sigh, finally sliding his digit out from you. Still, it hurts like hell, especially since he forced it open. "But I love you so much," he kisses your ear, flipping the expensive skirt he got you up and tracing his bloody finger over your panties. "Ah- stop," you keep begging. "I- I don't want this- please, just let me go, mister. I- I didn't do anything—"
The doctor doesn't listen, intently watching the red stain form on your underwear. You were nowhere near getting your first period, but God, he knew he was going to keep you long enough for him to slurp up your menstrual blood. Though, he knew he'd miss your fragile little body with your flat tits and hairless cunny. "You're utterly precious. I would love to split your cunny open with a knife." He said, easing his finger in your pussy.
You whine, squirming in your seat. Dottore has a big grin still, wolfish to the point where you feel like you're just a bunny compared to him. "M-mister..." You weep, bile rising in your throat from the sensation of blood seeping into your cunt— your own blood. Your stomach churns, and you squirm again, crying as Dottore fingers you. "So little..." He mutters under his breath. "You don't know how much I want to eat you alive." And it's the most romantic thing he's said.
Your cunny instinctively tightens around his digit, especially as he slips in a second. Tears are streaming down your face, embarrassed and hateful, and you're so helpless and you don't know what you did to deserve this. Your thigh is dripping with blood, something he occasionally licks. It's gross. It's gross and you hate it and you hate the smell of blood and you hate how he feels inside you.
"So, so precious- your pussy was made to be ripped apart," Dottore rambles, eyeing the way your pussy glistens. 6 year old pussy, right in front of his eyes, fingers shoved deep and covered in your blood. A frown is spread across your face, wiping away your tears— they keep coming, and Dottore pumps his fingers, loving how your blood coats them. "Just know how much I love you, darling," Dottore smiles, placing a kiss on your thigh and lapping up the wound he ever-so lovingly inflicted.
You blink the tears away, whimpering when he slides in a third, and then a fourth, until his fist is shoved deep inside your pussy, voice hoarse from screaming so all you can muster is a: "okay..."