
Dipali Gupta, an 18-year-old girl with a body that could make anyone's head turn, stepped into the doctor's office. Her long black hair cascaded down her back, contrasting against the simple blue jeans she had chosen for the day. The heat had been unbearable, so she had ditched her bra, leaving her D-cup breasts to bounce freely beneath her black full-sleeve top. She felt a peculiar mix of discomfort and relief as she walked through the clinic's sterile halls. The receptionist, a stern woman with a pinched nose, had finally called her name, and she had obediently followed the instructions to the doctor's cabin.
The door to the cabin creaked open, revealing two elderly doctors, both men with silver hair and stern expressions. They gestured for her to sit down on the cold, unforgiving examination table. Dipali's heart thudded in her chest like a drum as she did so, her anxiety about the pain in her chest and abdomen thickening the air around her.











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