A Basic Checkup

Cheri's Master sends her to Dr. Irony for a checkup. She walks in blind. Now she's strapped down on the medical bench, wrists locked, ankles spread. Dr. Irony starts with pain—cold metal clamps pinching her nipples, then cane strokes across the tops of her tits until they glow red and swell. She jerks against the straps, breath hissing through clenched teeth. Each strike lands harder, then pauses while he watches her cunt twitch. The cane leaves thin lines that turn into bruises. When the strikes stop he switches to fingers, working her clit in tight circles until the pain blurs into heat. She tries to stay quiet. Fails. He keeps the rhythm cruel: sting, stroke, sting, stroke. Her tits bounce and burn under the abuse, nipples stiff from the clamps. The bench creaks every time she fights the restraints. She never knows if the next touch will hurt or make her drip. By the end her body is shaking, marked, and dripping, and the doctor still hasn't said she's done.