There isn't much of a choice

Standing outside the back room of the shop, Professor Stump rubbed her knees together nervously. She could hear the conversation inside, and the sleazy shopkeeper was demeaning her to no end as he talked up what a great “bonus” he found to make the deal worth his customer’s while. Yet the words didn’t compare to how demeaning her outfit was.

Her lofty DD cup breasts were adorned with a pitiful excuse for a black tube top, barely managing to cover her nipples but leaving the rest of her titflesh on full display. To add insult to injury, there was a cutout in the middle to make sure none of her cleavage was obscured. Combined with the black g-string fitting snugly between her asscheeks, nothing was left to the imagination, as if the underwear was just there as a formality. And not a terribly formal one. At Phil’s insistence – Phil was the name of the store owner – she wore her lab coat over the two skimpy pieces of cloth, and to top things off, a sign dangled from her neck that read ‘Dr. Whore’.

With Phil beckoning her inside, she hesitantly opened the door, ambling inside as both Phil and his customer eyed her like wolves. Covering her boobs with one arm and her pussy with the other, the aura she gave off was nothing like that of a doctor, but instead of an agitated woman with dozens of other things she’d rather be doing. Her expression faltered a bit, though, when she saw the prospective buyer. The man was absolutely built, looking as though he could crush her with one hand if he wanted. And when he stood up from the couch, she could only stare as the towering man reached his full height of over six feet tall.

“Nice to meet you, Dr. Whore,” he greeted her, extending his arm for a handshake. “Yeah…” responded Stump, still too bewildered by the man’s stature to process the title she had just responded to. She walked up to shake his hand, and her eyes nearly popped out of her head as his huge hand almost enveloped hers entirely, squeezing down with a frightening amount of ****.

Withdrawing her hand as soon as he let go, Stump was already sweating with fear at the thought of this giant having his way with her body. She looked back at the corner where Phil sat, her brow creased with worry, but he just flashed her a thumbs up and a bright, shiny smile. Damn that slimeball… she thought.

“Dr. Whore, I’m having some soreness in my groin, could you take a look?” The man sat back down and spread his knees expectantly, waiting for his doctor to unbutton his pants. She kneeled down in front of him, begrudgingly moving her hands and exposing her lewd apparel as she tended to her “patient”.