Neha stepped into the fertility clinic the next day like a desperate bitch in heat. Her white net saree was sheer as fuck — no blouse, no petticoat, no bra, no panty. Just the thin, see-through fabric clinging to her massive milky boobs and thick ass, her pink nipples poking through like two horny beacons. She was dripping wet already, thighs rubbing together as she walked, her cunt throbbing from yesterday’s fucking. Aaj Dr. Rahul sahab mujhe aur bhi zyada dard denge… main unki pain slut ban chuki hoon, she thought, biting her lip in excitement.

The moment she entered Dr. Rahul’s cabin, he didn’t waste a second. His eyes darkened with pure lust. “Aaja randi, aaj tera asli treatment shuru hota hai.” He grabbed her wrist hard and dragged her straight to the hidden machine room — a full-on BDSM torture chamber disguised as a “fertility lab.” Cold metal walls, hooks, whips, clamps, and a massive fucking machine in the corner. The air smelled of leather, sweat, and sex.