Aarohi told herself she wouldn’t go back.

She spent the next three days in a fog of shame and aftershocks. Every time she sat down, she felt the phantom stretch of Dr. Mehra’s thick cock inside her, the sticky warmth of his cum still leaking out even after multiple showers. Her panties were ruined—stained with dried cream she couldn’t fully wash away. At night she woke up soaked, thighs clenched, fingers already between her legs before she could stop herself, replaying the way he’d called her “good girl” while flooding her womb.