I could barely speak. I knew my wish was going to be granted. I had wanted clitoris removal for years. I had thought about it every time I visited the...nurse for my annual check ups. But my local surgery was not the place to casually mention I would like to have my clitoris snipped off.He placed two fingers over my swollen clit and began to rub it."I'll make you come; you need to come as many times as possible before your operation." Can I really do it?" Yes, I promise, I will have you cut."I. This story is excerpted from the June 19, 2011, entry in my blog about my round-trip road trip from Reno, Nevada, to Mount Rushmore, South Dakota. You can read the full blog here http://xhamster.com/user/teengirerin/posts/44615.html When the Priest calls me a "c***d", he means a "c***d of God". I am 18 years old, so this story is not about sex with an u******e c***d.*******I started my morning by going to a Catholic Mass in Douglas, Wyoming. I was raised Catholic. I used to go to Mass every. Just across the street, Jeanne was also lounging. She sat in the back of her white limousine, a cell phone held to her ear as she listened intently. Her body was wrapped in red leather, the clingy, shiny body suit hugging her wide hips and full breasts nicely. A white scarf sat draped around her neck and her short, snow white hair was complemented nicely by the sparkling diamonds that hung from her ears. She shifted nervously as the caller spoke, appearing to ponder an important decision."You. My makeup was replaced with asophisticated evening look. My eyelashes were made extra long and thickto stand out from the heavy dose of blended eye shadow. My cheeks wereaglow with blush and my lips perfectly matched my nail polish. With everystroke of makeup, I was made to look more desirable. Even in the lessformal dress I was wearing now, I would have looked appropriate at thewedding.When I sashayed out of the salon I had an extra bounce in my step. Asmuch as I knew I had to keep my.