Krishnansh Arora woke up early every morning, usually around 5:30 AM, to the soft buzz of his phone alarm. It was a habit he built over years of discipline. The first light of day crept through the curtains of his cozy apartment in Sector 47, Gurgaon, casting a warm glow on the room. He felt the usual stiffness in his shoulders from yesterday's intense gym session, but it was the good kind of ache, the one that reminded him he was pushing his limits.Lying beside him was Prerna (name changed), his girlfriend of two years, still sound asleep. Her long dark hair spilled over the pillow, and her face looked so peaceful in the morning light. Krishnansh smiled to himself as he watched her for a moment. He loved how she slept like nothing in the world could bother her. Carefully, he slipped out of bed so he wouldn't wake her. In his black boxer briefs, he padded quietly to the kitchen.First thing: coffee. Black and strong. Then his protein shake with whey, banana, oats, and a scoop of peanut butter. He blended it while thinking about his day. He had a football tournament coming up next week, a local league he played in for fun, but he needed a fitness certificate to participate. No big deal, just a routine checkup at a nearby clinic in the afternoon. His body was in peak shape, so he wasn't worried.While sipping his shake, he did his quick morning stretch in the living room. Push ups, arm circles, deep squats. His body felt powerful and solid. At 6 feet tall and 88 kg, Krishnansh had the kind of athletic build that turned heads. His shoulders were broad and capped with muscle, arms thick and veiny from all the lifting. But his pecs were his standout feature, massive and full, sitting high on his chest even when relaxed. They bounced slightly with every movement, something his fans went crazy over in his videos. His abs were carved into eight clear blocks, leading down to a narrow waist and strong hips. His quads were huge, thick and powerful from years of squats and football sprints, filling out his pants in a way that made girls stare. He had a light tan from outdoor running, and his skin was smooth except for a few faint bruises from heavy weights.
By 7 AM, Prerna came out of the bedroom, rubbing her eyes. She was wearing his oversized t-shirt that barely covered her thighs. She hugged him from behind while he drank his coffee.“Morning, baby,” she mumbled into his back.“Morning, love.” He turned, kissed her forehead, then her lips slow and soft, the kind of kiss that still felt special after two years.They ate breakfast at the small table: eggs and toast for her, oats and grilled chicken for him. She showed him funny cat videos on her phone. He checked his DMs fans asking for workout tips, girls dropping heart emojis, guys wanting diet advice. He replied to a few nicely, then put the phone away.“You’re trending again,” Prerna said, showing him a reel someone shared: Krishnansh playing football shirtless on a local field, his massive pecs bouncing as he ran, sweat rolling down his chest, quads flexing with every kick. Caption: “This guy’s pecs are goals #FootballFit”He laughed. “People are thirsty.”“You love it,” she teased, kicking his leg under the table.He grinned. “Maybe a little.”Krishnansh was a total exhibitionist on Instagram. With 1.2 million followers, he loved posting shirtless reels of him running in shorts, his quads pumping, or playing football without a shirt, his massive pecs on full display as he sprinted across the field. Comments always blew up: “Those pecs are insane bro!” “Pecs bigger than my future ” “Drooling over that chest” “How do you get pecs like that? Teach us!” People obsessed over his body, especially the pecs—round, full, bouncing in every video. He knew it, and he played into it, flexing them in poses, letting sweat highlight every curve. It got him brand deals and more followers, but in his mind, it was just fun.Their sex life was great fun, passionate, a bit naughty but nothing too wild. Prerna loved when he took charge: pinning her wrists, fucking her deep and slow until she begged. Krishnansh loved when she rode him, nails scratching his chest, telling him how much she loved his strong body. They’d discovered she liked light hair-pulling and his hand around her throat (just enough pressure to make her eyes roll back), and he loved when she sat on his face, thighs squeezing his head while he licked her until she shook and came all over his mouth.Last night had been one of those sessions. After dinner they started on the couch. She straddled him, grinding until he was rock-hard in his shorts. He flipped her onto her back, pulled her panties aside, and fucked her fast and deep while she moaned into his neck. When she came she squeezed him so tight he almost finished, but he pulled out, turned her over, and came on her ass hot ropes painting her skin while she panted “yes baby give it to me.”They cleaned up, showered together, laughed, then fell asleep tangled up.Now it was morning again. Coffee, breakfast, normal life.Krishnansh had no idea how close he was to everything changing.He finished his shake, kissed Prerna goodbye (she had a 9 AM office meeting), grabbed his gym bag, and headed out. The day felt normal.He had a doctor's appointment at 3 PM for the fitness certificate. Just routine.
Krishnansh Arora pushed open the glass door of the small private clinic in Sector 47 at exactly 2:50 PM on February 27, 2026. The waiting room smelled like clean antiseptic mixed with the faint scent of old paper. He had come for a simple fitness certificate so he could play in the local football tournament next week, and also to mention the stiffness in his shoulders and upper back that had been bothering him lately.He was wearing a fitted black compression shirt and grey track pants. The shirt hugged his body tightly, showing the full shape of his chest and shoulders. At 6 feet and 88 kg, Krish had a strong, athletic build that always got attention — wide shoulders, thick chest, narrow waist, and powerful legs from years of football and gym work.The receptionist smiled when she saw him. “Mr. Arora? Dr. Arham will see you now.”Krishnansh followed her down the short hallway and stepped into the consultation room. It was clean and bright, with a desk, two chairs, and an examination table covered with a white sheet. Dr. Arham Khan stood up from his chair. He was in his early 30s, average height, wearing a white coat over a light blue shirt. His smile was polite and friendly.“Krishnansh, right? Please have a seat.”Krishnansh sat down. “Hi doctor. I just need a fitness certificate for a football tournament. And my shoulders and upper back feel a bit stiff lately. Probably from training, but I wanted to get it checked.”Arham nodded and typed a few things on his laptop. “No problem. We’ll do a basic checkup — blood pressure, heart rate, and a quick physical exam. Any recent injuries?”“Just normal soreness,” Krishnansh said. “Nothing serious.”Arham stood up. “Alright. Let’s start. Can you remove your shirt please? I need to listen to your heart and lungs clearly.”
Krishnansh pulled the compression shirt over his head in one smooth motion. The fabric slid off slowly, revealing his bare upper body.His chest was thick and powerful. The pecs were large, round, and sat high on his frame even when relaxed. A light dusting of dark hair covered the upper part, trailing down the deep line between them. His nipples were dark and flat against the tanned skin. Below that, his abs were clearly defined in eight blocks, and his shoulders were broad and strong.Arham’s eyes moved over Krishnansh’s chest. He couldn’t look away. Those pecs were massive — full, heavy, perfectly shaped. He had seen many patients, but never anything like this. In his mind, Arham imagined running his hands over them, squeezing the firm muscle, feeling how they would bounce and yield under his fingers. He pictured pinching the nipples, watching them harden, hearing Krishnansh’s breath catch. The thoughts came fast and strong. He forced himself to breathe normally. This is a patient, he reminded himself. Stay professional.“Very impressive build,” Arham said, keeping his voice steady and calm. “You train consistently.”“Thanks,” Krishnansh replied, a little uncomfortable but used to people commenting on his physique.Arham stepped closer. “Let’s check your heart and lungs. Lie back on the table for me.”Krishnansh lay down on the examination table. The paper sheet crinkled under him. Arham picked up the stethoscope and placed the cold metal disc on Krishnansh’s chest, right over the left pec. He listened carefully, moving the disc slowly across the muscle. His free hand rested lightly on Krishnansh’s abs, fingers spread, pressing gently as if checking for tension.“Heart sounds strong,” Arham said. “Very athletic.”He moved the stethoscope lower, across the ribs, then back up to the center of the chest. Each time his hand on the abs pressed a little firmer, his thumb brushing the edge of one of the faint bruises Krishnansh had from heavy benching.“Any pain here?” Arham asked, pressing directly on the bruise.Krishnansh winced slightly. “A little. From gym. Nothing bad.”Arham’s thumb circled the mark slowly. “Looks like deep tissue bruising. I should check it properly.”He set the stethoscope aside. Both hands now came to Krishnansh’s chest. Palms flat, fingers spreading wide over the large pecs. He squeezed gently at first, feeling the thickness and firmness of the muscle.“Any tenderness here?” Arham asked, his thumbs slowly moving across the pecs.Krishnansh felt a strange warmth spread through his chest as the doctor’s hands explored his pecs. It felt a bit odd, but he told himself it was just a normal check.Arham continued kneading the pecs in slow, firm circles. His thumbs brushed over the nipples once, twice, making them tighten and harden. In his mind, Arham was losing control. These pecs were perfect — so full, so heavy. He wanted to squeeze them harder, pinch the nipples until Krishnansh gasped, watch them bounce under his hands. He wanted to see this strong, straight man squirm. But he kept his face calm and professional.“Relax,” Arham said softly. “Breathe deep for me.”He kept going, kneading a little harder, lifting the pecs slightly, letting them drop, watching them bounce under his hands. One hand slid down to Krishnansh’s abs, fingers tracing the deep lines, pressing into the lower part just above the waistband.“Your body is perfect,” Arham said quietly. “All that hard work shows. These pecs are really well developed.”Krishnansh lay there, feeling the doctor’s hands on his chest. It felt strange, but he told himself it was just part of the checkup. He was straight, he had Prerna, and this was just a doctor doing his job.Arham continued the slow, careful examination of the pecs, his mind racing with thoughts he knew he should not have.
Arham kept his hands on Krishnansh’s chest for a few more moments. He pressed gently into the thick muscle, feeling how firm and full the pecs were. His thumbs moved in slow circles, brushing lightly over the nipples again and again. Krishnansh’s breathing changed slightly. He could feel his own heart beating faster.“Any tightness here?” Arham asked, his voice calm and professional.Krishnansh shook his head. “No… not really. Just the shoulders mostly.”Arham nodded slowly. “Okay. The stiffness you mentioned can sometimes spread down the kinetic chain — from shoulders to hips to legs. To be thorough, I need to check your quads as well. Can you stand up and pull your track pants down to mid-thigh? Just enough to expose the upper quads. You can keep your underwear on.”Krishnansh hesitated for a second. It felt a bit strange, but doctors had asked him to do similar things before during sports physicals. He stood up from the table. The paper sheet crinkled under him. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his grey track pants and slowly pulled them down to mid-thigh. The elastic band bunched just above his knees.Now his quads were fully exposed. They were massive — thick, powerful, and sculpted from years of heavy squats, lunges, and football sprints. The muscle looked hard and full even when relaxed, with clear separation between the different heads. The skin was smooth and tanned, with a few faint stretch marks on the outer quads from rapid growth. The V-lines from his lower abs disappeared into the black boxer briefs that were now visible, hugging his hips tightly..Arham’s eyes locked onto them immediately. He swallowed once. In his mind, the thoughts rushed in fast and hot. Those quads were enormous — the kind that made shorts look painted on in Krishnansh’s Instagram reels. He imagined how they would feel under his hands, how the muscle would tense and flex if he pressed harder, how they would look spread wide on the examination table. He pictured Krishnansh in nothing but those briefs, legs apart, quads trembling while he teased him slowly. Arham’s pulse quickened. He forced himself to breathe normally. Stay professional, he told himself. This is still a checkup.“Very well developed,” Arham said, voice steady but quieter than before. “You must do a lot of leg work.”Krishnansh nodded. “Yeah, squats and sprints mostly. Football training too.”Arham moved closer and knelt down in front of him. He placed both hands on Krishnansh’s right quad first. His palms were warm as he slowly ran them over the muscle, feeling its size and density. He started at the top near the hip and moved downward, fingers spreading wide to cover as much surface as possible.“These are extremely strong,” Arham said softly. “The vastus lateralis is particularly thick.”He pressed gently into the outer quad, working in small slow circles. Krishnansh felt the pressure go deeper. It was a bit uncomfortable, but also relieving at the same time. Arham’s hands were firm but careful, like he was really trying to find the problem areas.Arham’s mind was racing. The quads were incredible — huge, powerful, the kind that made Krishnansh’s shorts look tight in every Instagram reel. He imagined how they would look spread wide, how the muscle would tremble under his hands if he took his time, how the skin would feel under his fingers. He pushed the thoughts away and kept his face completely professional.“Any pain when I press here?” Arham asked, pressing a little deeper into the outer quad.Krishnansh winced slightly. “A bit. That spot feels tight.”Arham nodded and continued the slow massage, both hands working the muscle carefully. He moved from the top of the quad near the hip down toward the knee, then back up again. His thumbs followed the deep lines between the muscle groups, pressing just enough to check for tightness. He repeated the same slow, thorough check on the left quad, taking his time, pressing and kneading gently.“Your quads are very strong,” Arham said quietly. “But they are carrying a lot of tension too. That can happen when you train hard every day.”He kept working for a long time, his hands moving slowly over the thick muscle, feeling every curve and line. Krishnansh stood there, slightly uncomfortable but telling himself this was just a normal doctor doing a proper check.Arham’s thoughts were anything but normal. He wanted to see these quads completely exposed, to run his hands all over them, to feel how they would shake if he pushed harder.
“Very well developed,” Arham said, keeping his voice calm and even. “These are some of the strongest quads I’ve seen in an athlete your age.”Krishnansh shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Thanks. Squats and sprints mostly.”Arham nodded. “I can see that. To properly check for any imbalance or tightness, I need you to remove the track pants completely. Just step out of them and stay in your underwear. It’s standard for lower-body exams so I can see the full muscle group.”Krishnansh paused. He looked down at the pants already at his ankles. It felt a bit weird, but he had done sports physicals before and doctors always asked for similar things. He told himself it was normal.“Okay,” he said quietly.He bent slightly and pushed the track pants the rest of the way down, stepping out of them one foot at a time. Now he stood in only the black boxer briefs. The fabric was snug, showing the full outline of his powerful thighs and the round curve of his glutes. The waistband sat low on his hips, the deep V-lines from his abs disappearing underneath.Arham’s eyes darkened for a split second. He swallowed once. In his head the thoughts rushed in again — wild, hungry. That ass was perfect — round, firm, powerful, the kind that looked insane in every squat reel Krishnansh posted. He imagined grabbing it, spreading it, tearing the boxer briefs off right there and seeing the bare skin, the tight pink hole he knew was hiding underneath. He pictured Krishnansh bent over the table, quads shaking, glutes flexing while he took his time exploring every inch. Arham’s pulse hammered in his ears. He forced himself to breathe normally. This is still a checkup, he told himself. Stay in control.
“Turn around for me,” Arham said, voice steady. “I need to check the hamstrings and glutes to see if the tension is coming from the posterior chain.”Krishnansh turned slowly, facing the wall. His back was wide and strong, lats flaring out, tapering down to a narrow waist. His glutes were round and powerful, filling out the black boxer briefs perfectly. The fabric stretched tight across them, showing every curve.Arham stayed kneeling. He placed both hands on Krishnansh’s glutes. His palms were warm as he slowly ran them over the muscle, feeling its size and firmness. He started at the upper part near the lower back and moved downward, fingers spreading wide to cover as much surface as possible.“These are very well developed,” Arham said quietly. “The glutes are one of the strongest muscle groups in your body. They help with stability and power during football.”He pressed gently into the muscle, working in small slow circles. Krishnansh felt the pressure go deeper. It was a bit strange, but he told himself it was just part of the checkup.Arham’s mind was racing again. These glutes were perfect — round, hard, powerful. He imagined tearing those boxer briefs off right there, seeing the bare ass, spreading it, feeling it under his hands. He wanted to make Krishnansh bend over further, expose everything. He pictured the tight pink hole, how it would look stretched, how Krishnansh would sound if he pushed inside. The thoughts were loud and dirty. Arham’s breathing became a little heavier, but he kept his face completely calm.“Any tightness here?” Arham asked, pressing a little deeper into the right glute.Krishnansh shifted slightly. “A little. From squats maybe.”Arham continued the slow massage, both hands working the muscle carefully. He moved from the upper part of the glutes down toward the hamstrings, then back up again. His thumbs followed the deep lines, pressing just enough to check for tightness. He repeated the same slow, thorough check on the left side, taking his time, pressing and kneading gently.“Your glutes are very strong,” Arham said quietly. “But they are carrying a lot of tension too. That can pull on the lower back and shoulders.”He kept working for a long time, his hands moving slowly over the thick muscle, feeling every curve and line. Krishnansh stood there, slightly uncomfortable but telling himself this was just a normal doctor doing a proper check.
Arham kept his hands on Krishnansh’s glutes for a few more moments. He pressed gently into the thick muscle, feeling how firm and full they were. His thumbs moved in slow circles, brushing lightly over the roundness again and again. Krishnansh’s breathing stayed steady but he could feel a slight tension in his own body now.“Any tightness deeper in here?” Arham asked, his voice calm and professional.Krishnansh shook his head. “Not sure… maybe a little.”Arham nodded slowly. “The stiffness you mentioned in your shoulders and back can sometimes refer pain down to the glutes, especially near the deep rotators and piriformis. To be thorough, I need to check the inner glute area properly — close to the sacrum and near the hip joint. That means I need to see the full muscle without any fabric in the way.”He paused, letting the words settle.“So I’ll need you to remove your underwear completely. You can stay on the table. It’s standard for this kind of deep glute assessment. I’ll keep it quick and clinical.”Krishnansh froze for a second. His face got warm. Removing his underwear felt like crossing a line, but Arham sounded so matter-of-fact, so professional. He told himself doctors did this kind of thing all the time for sports injuries. He had done physicals before. It was just medical.“Okay,” he said quietly, voice a little rough.He reached back with both hands and hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his black boxer briefs. He pulled them down slowly — inch by inch — the elastic sliding over the curve of his hips, then down the powerful roundness of his glutes.The fabric dragged against his skin, exposing everything bit by bit.First the top of his ass came into view — smooth, tanned, perfectly shaped. Then more — the full round cheeks, firm and high, no sag, no dimples, just pure muscle from years of heavy squats and sprints. The skin was flawless, not a single hair anywhere. Completely smooth and clean-shaven, the way he kept it for football and his Instagram shoots.As the briefs dropped lower, his clean asshole came into sight — tight, pink, puckered, untouched and perfect in the middle of those massive glutes. No hair, no stubble, just soft, bare skin.The underwear finally slid past his thighs and pooled at his knees. Krishnansh stepped out of them one foot at a time, now completely naked on the examination table.
Arham’s eyes locked on the sight. He didn’t blink. In his mind the thoughts exploded. That ass was flawless — round, hard, powerful, the kind that looked insane in every squat reel Krishnansh posted. Smooth, hairless, pink hole right there in the center, tight and inviting. He imagined spreading those cheeks wide, burying his face between them, tongue circling that clean hole, tasting it, making Krishnansh shake and moan. He pictured tying him down, ass up, helpless, while he worshipped it for hours. His own cock throbbed hard in his pants. He forced himself to breathe normally. Stay in control, he told himself. This is still an exam.“Perfect,” Arham said quietly, almost under his breath. “Very clean lines. No visible irritation.”He cleared his throat.“Now, to check the deep glutes properly, I need you to lift your hips slightly. Get up on your knees a bit, keep your chest down on the table. This position opens the area so I can assess the inner glutes and piriformis.”Krishnansh swallowed. He felt exposed, vulnerable, but he told himself it was just medical. He lifted his hips slowly, pushing up onto his knees while keeping his chest and face pressed into the padded table. His back arched slightly. His cock hung down between his legs — semi-erect from the earlier nipple brushing and the strange intimacy of being handled. It swayed gently with his movement, thick and heavy.Arham’s gaze dropped immediately to the hanging cock, then back up to the lifted ass. The position spread Krishnansh’s glutes just enough — the smooth cheeks parted slightly, giving a clearer view of the tight pink hole in the center. Arham’s pulse hammered in his ears. He wanted to grab those hips, spread him wider, dive in with his tongue, make this straight boy squirm and beg. He pictured the hole clenching around his finger, then more, while Krishnansh moaned into the table.Instead, he placed both hands on Krishnansh’s glutes again — one on each cheek. He spread them gently, thumbs pulling the muscle apart just enough to “expose the deep rotators.”“Relax your glutes,” Arham said softly. “I’m going to press into the inner area now.”He slid his thumbs slowly toward the center, pressing into the soft tissue right next to the hole — close, but not touching it yet. Krishnansh’s breath hitched. He felt the pressure, the intimacy, the way Arham’s thumbs were almost brushing the rim.“Does this reproduce any of your stiffness?” Arham asked, pressing a little deeper, his thumbs now circling very close to the pink pucker.Krishnansh’s voice was tight. “A little… yeah… right there.”Arham kept the pressure steady, thumbs working slow circles in the inner glute area, inching closer to the hole with every pass. His mind was screaming. He wanted to push one finger inside that clean, tight hole, feel it clench around him, hear Krishnansh gasp and beg. He wanted to eat it, tongue-fuck it until the straight boy was shaking and leaking. But he held back, kept his touch “clinical,” let the tension build.“Deep breath,” Arham said. “I’m checking for trigger points.”He pressed one thumb right next to the hole — so close the pad almost touched the rim — and held it there, applying steady pressure.Krishnansh’s cock twitched harder, semi-erect now fully hard, swaying between his legs. A drop of pre-cum formed at the tip and fell onto the sheet.Arham noticed. He smiled to himself, but his voice stayed calm.“Good. That’s the area. We’ll work on releasing it slowly.”
Krishnansh stayed in position, chest pressed to the padded table, hips lifted slightly on his knees. His massive quads were tensed, glutes parted just enough from the lift, clean pink hole fully exposed in the bright clinic light. His semi-erect cock hung down between his thick thighs, swaying gently with each breath. The room felt too quiet except for the soft hum of the AC and his own uneven breathing.Arham stood up slowly. He walked to a side cabinet and returned with a small padded restraint set — soft black cuffs with Velcro straps and short connecting chains. They looked medical, professional, like something used for stability during certain tests.“I need to do a quick functional assessment of your glutes and piriformis under controlled resistance,” Arham explained, voice still calm and clinical. “There’s a small machine here that measures muscle activation. To get accurate readings, your body needs to stay completely stable — no shifting. These restraints will help keep your lower body in the correct position. It’s very common for athletes. You’ll be fine.”Krishnansh swallowed. His face was hot. Being tied felt wrong, but Arham made it sound so routine, so necessary. He thought about the tournament, the certificate, how badly he wanted to play without pain. He told himself it was just medical equipment.“Okay,” he said quietly.Arham moved quickly but gently. He fastened one cuff around Krishnansh’s right ankle, then the left, securing them to short chains attached to the table legs. The chains were just long enough to keep his knees bent and hips lifted, but short enough that he couldn’t lower himself or shift away. Then he did the same with soft cuffs around Krishnansh’s wrists — pulling his arms forward and securing them to the top of the table so his chest stayed down, shoulders relaxed, face turned to the side.Now Krishnansh was bound. Chest flat on the table, ass up, legs spread and locked in place by the ankle cuffs, arms stretched forward and cuffed at the wrists. Completely helpless in the position. His thick cock still hung down semi-erect between his legs, balls heavy, pre-cum glistening at the tip from the earlier nipple play and the strange vulnerability of being restrained.
Arham stepped back for a second, just looking. In his mind the view was perfect — Krishnansh’s huge quads flexed from the lift, glutes spread, smooth pink hole winking slightly with every breath. No hair, clean, untouched. He felt a surge of raw hunger. He wanted to drop to his knees and eat that hole right there — tongue circling the rim, pushing inside, making this straight boy moan and buck against the restraints. He pictured Krishnansh’s muffled cries, the way his ass would clench around his tongue, the way his cock would drip more pre-cum onto the table.But he kept his face calm.He leaned in close behind Krishnansh. Without warning he spat directly onto the exposed hole — a thick, warm glob of saliva landing right on the tight pucker. Krishnansh gasped sharply.Arham used two fingers to slowly rub the spit around the rim, circling the pink ring in lazy, deliberate strokes. The hole twitched under his touch.Krishnansh’s voice cracked. “Doc… what are you doing?”Arham didn’t answer right away. He kept rubbing, spreading the saliva, making the area slick and shiny.“Quiet,” Arham said firmly. “This is a serious checkup. The piriformis is deep. I need to assess nerve response and muscle release. If you move or talk it will affect the readings. Stay still and breathe.”He reached for a small bottle of medical lube from the side tray. He squeezed a generous amount onto his right index finger. Krishnansh felt the cold drip land near his hole.“Wait—” Krishnansh started.Arham pressed the lubed fingertip against the tight ring — not pushing in yet, just resting there, letting Krishnansh feel the pressure.Krishnansh’s body tensed. The cuffs held him firmly in place. He couldn’t lower his hips, couldn’t pull away.“Doc… stop… please…” His voice was shaking now.Arham ignored him. He applied slow, steady pressure. The tip of his finger breached the rim — just the first knuckle — sliding in smoothly thanks to the lube and spit.Krishnansh screamed — a sharp, broken sound that echoed in the small room.“Stop! Please — take it out — it hurts — stop!”Arham held still, finger buried to the first knuckle, letting Krishnansh adjust. His other hand rested on Krishnansh’s lower back, keeping him steady.“Breathe,” Arham said softly. “This is necessary. The piriformis is tight. I’m checking nerve entrapment. Just relax the muscle.”He waited a few seconds, then slowly pushed deeper — second knuckle now inside. Krishnansh’s whole body jerked against the restraints. His cock throbbed harder, fully erect now, pre-cum dripping steadily onto the sheet below.“Please… take it out… I can’t… mercy…” Krishnansh begged, voice cracking, tears pricking his eyes.Arham didn’t move the finger out. Instead he curled it slightly, searching for the walnut-shaped piriformis muscle inside.
To be continued..
