Doctor's Orders: Little Spittle Gets Poked & Probed By Dr. Peter Hooke

Little Spittle wakes already strapped down on Dr. Hooke’s cold medical table, wrists and ankles locked, mouth forced open by a bit gag. They blink, disoriented, then the sting lands—first strike of the cane across bare thighs. Dr. Hooke leans in close, voice low, promising pain and pleasure in the same breath. The cane bites again, steady, deliberate. A flogger follows, leather tails snapping over chest and belly until skin burns pink. When the electricity starts, Little Spittle jerks hard against the restraints, drool slipping past the gag. Hooke watches every twitch, every muffled cry, then trades the cane for his cock. He works lube over himself and pushes in, stretching them open while the current keeps humming through the clamps. Each thrust lands deep; Little Spittle writhes, helpless, until the pleasure finally overtakes the pain and they come hard around him, trembling under the straps.