Dr. Rupa Mukherjee was anything but a conventional doctor. She was a large, sagging woman in her sixties, with a penchant for unbuttoning her lab coat to reveal a hint of her ample bosom. Today, she sat behind her desk, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she awaited her next patient.
The door opened, and in walked a young man, looking uncomfortable and intimidated by the doctor's appearance. He was a good-looking fellow, with dark hair and piercing blue eyes. But Dr. Mukherjee was not interested in his looks. She had already done her research on him and knew exactly what he was here for.
"Ah, Mr. Johnson, I presume," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I must say, I was quite surprised by your, shall we say, unique interests. I don't get many patients who are into..." She paused for effect, "amputation porn."
The man's face turned beet red, and he looked down at his feet, embarrassed.
"I can assure you, Doctor, it's not what you think," he stammered.
Dr. Mukherjee chuckled. "Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea. But let's see if we can't broaden your horizons a bit, shall we?"
She turned her computer screen towards him, and he saw a video of a woman with her leg bound, writhing in pleasure as a man touched her.
"See, Mr. Johnson, it's not all about cutting off limbs. It's about the power dynamic, the control. Don't you find that exciting?"
The man hesitated, but as he watched the video, he felt a stirring in his pants. Dr. Mukherjee noticed and smiled.
"That's it, Mr. Johnson. Don't be shy. Let yourself go."
She reached down and started to touch herself, her fingers working their way under her sari. The man watched, transfixed, as she moaned softly.
"Go on, Mr. Johnson. Touch yourself. I won't judge."
The man hesitated for a moment, then slowly unzipped his pants and started to touch himself. Dr. Mukherjee watched, her eyes gleaming with excitement.
"That's it, Mr. Johnson. Don't be afraid to take control. Show me what you're made of."
The man started to stroke himself harder, his breathing becoming heavy. Dr. Mukherjee continued to touch herself, her moans getting louder.
"Oh, Mr. Johnson, you're such a quick learner," she purred.
She stood up and approached the man, still touching herself. She stood in front of him, her sari falling open to reveal her thick thighs.
"Do you want to touch me, Mr. Johnson?" she asked, her voice low and sultry.
The man nodded, unable to speak.
"Good," she said, sitting on his lap. "Then show me what you can do."
She continued to touch herself as the man reached out and touched her breasts, feeling their weight and softness.
"Oh, yes, Mr. Johnson. Just like that," she moaned.
She leaned in close, whispering dirty things in his ear.
"Imagine cutting them off, Mr. Johnson. Imagine the power you would have over me."
The man's breathing became ragged as he imagined the scene. He started to squeeze the doctor's breasts, imagining cutting them off, as per his searched videos.
Dr. Mukherjee reached her climax, her body shaking in the man's lap.
"Well done, Mr. Johnson," she said, getting up and straightening her sari. "You've passed the interview. I think we're going to have a lot of fun together."
She winked at him and walked out of the room, leaving the man sitting there, stunned and satisfied.
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