The Examination

Riley shows up looking like trouble on a silver platter. Leather straps bite into her wrists. A black ball gag stretches her mouth wide, and her eyes go wide right back at the two women waiting for her. Harmony keeps the strap tight while Isis slips a gloved hand between Riley’s thighs and spreads her open. They don’t ask. They just take. A cold speculum clicks into place, stretching her ass until the metal flashes under the light. Riley jerks. They hold her down and keep going. Isis leans in close, breath hot on Riley’s ear, and pushes a lubed finger alongside the steel. Harmony watches Riley’s thighs shake, then slaps her clit when the moan gets too loud. Riley strains against the cuffs, drool slipping around the gag, hips twitching every time the finger twists deeper. The clinic smells like latex and sweat. Nobody’s pretending this is medicine anymore. Isis slides the speculum out, replaces it with two slick fingers, then three, working Riley’s ass in steady, deliberate strokes. Harmony pulls the gag tighter, forces Riley’s head back, makes her look. Every thrust makes Riley’s eyes roll. Every slap leaves a red print. The blonde shakes, caught between the table and their hands, dripping onto the steel. They keep her there until she can’t hold still, until the room is filled with wet sounds and the slap of skin on skin. Only then do they ease off, leaving her trembling, marked, and empty again.