Vex's World

Patient 4-27 presents with a severe case of IBS— insufferable bitch syndrome.

4-27 was referred to me by a concerned classmate, after catching her getting railed by a professor.

During initial intake, she was administered 200mg of ketamine diluted in ethanol.

To ensure success and compliance with the treatment plan, her clothing articles were removed and she was then restrained. For her own benefit and safety. Of course.

Treatment began with oral and digital stimulation to her clitoris and vaginal canal.

As part of documentation, video footage was captured of the entire intake, which I am now transcribing via audio.

The subject was responding favourably to the induction process. Her fuck hole started lubricating itself, excitedly anticipating for what was to come.

Digital penetration was then replaced by the glass bottle used for her self-administered intoxication.

With the stimulus increasing in speed, her panting was replaced with desperate moans, as she got fucked harder and harder, with her own beer bottle.

The camera then pans up to capture her facial expressions, possessed in pure, slutty, raging pleasure before moving down again.

The bottle is flipped around, and now the wider part is pushed into her sopping wet pussy.

The footage ends briefly before treatment is resumed.

The camera is attached to a chest mount, giving a POV from the administrator's perspective.

I’m seated on her couch, looking down directly onto the subject. Her weight is on her head and neck. Her back rests against the foot of the couch, her ass in the air, legs splayed open, knees dangling on either side of her makeup-ruined face. Comfortably situated between my legs.

Her useless cunt is on full display, clenching greedily onto the beer bottle lodged inside of it, as if she were nothing but a mindless, pussy-filled drink holder.

A second unfinished bottle is seen being inserted into her ass. The liquid quickly starts disappearing, as her shit pipe happily gulps down the remaining beer.

A thumb begins circling her engorged clit.

With the second bottle now fucking her bowels, a foot begins rubbing her nipple.

She screams out the name Vinny in ecstasy.

“Shut the fuck up” is the cold response that meets her, before the foot is pressed against her parted lips.

Like the worthless slut she is, she welcomes it and eagerly sucks on my toe.

The bottle in her ass stops moving momentarily.

“You look so beautifully stupid.”

“Aren’t you a stupid whore.”

She manages to nod with my foot in her mouth.

“Say it.”

I’m a stupid whore.

“Again.”

I’m a stupid whore.

The bottle wedged in her anal cunt starts moving again.

“Louder.”

I’m a stupid whore. I’m a stupid whore. I’M A STUPID WH—

She pisses herself as she climaxes.

In her position, her stream starts splashing onto her face, as she gleefully relieves herself.

The big toe in her mouth pulls her lips apart further, so she can enjoy the taste of being her own toilet.

When she finally begins to catch her breath and her piss softens to a dribble, a hand is seen gently tapping her urine-soaked face. “Good girl.”

The footage stops, marking the completion of the subject’s intake.

…

Mhmmm. Look at you. What a truly broken whore you are. Cumming your brains out, from just watching your own rape.

But don’t worry, my love. I’ll fix you ♡

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“Let go,” you manage to say, sounding more like a polite request than a demand. He momentarily breaks his intense gaze while inhaling deeply through his nose— as though a scent has caught his attention. A devious grin paints across his face, “Sexually aroused, are we? How naughty of you.” He grinds his pelvis into yours.

A soft moan escapes your lips. “No, stop...” you plead, hushed and breathy. Through your boyshorts, you feel his thumb along your vulva, stroking it up and down. “Don’t be coy with me,” he teases you, “I can smell your dripping, wet cunt.” At that moment, he presses two fingers into the fabric directly over your entrance, kneading it into you.

You shut your eyes and can’t control the whorish noises seeping past your throat. “Perhaps the one who needs release is you," he muses. "Fine," your tormentor resolves and clenches the bottom of your oversized shirt before he starts tugging it off of you. 

"Stop!" you exclaim, thrashing under him. But he wrestles the clothing over your head. With your arms still in your shirt, he leans his weight into you, effectively pinning your arms above you with his own.

His lips caress your ear, and then he whispers in a low growl, “Beg me." You feel him drive his hips into you, slowly, rhymically, forcefully. "Beg me to fuck you," he murmurs in his husky voice, deep into your ear. His breaths are laboured and hot against your skin. You're both panting now.

"Please…" you hear yourself plead, your body having a mind of its own. "Say it." he responds in a lustful groan. Without another thought, the words pour out of you, "Please… fuck me!"

He pulls himself and your shirt off you. He then begins tearing off your panties in a desperate, carnal fervour. He tosses them to the side and is immediately on top of you again. His lips are ravaging yours, tongue pushing hungrily into your mouth. With his dick grinding against your clitoris, you both moan in pleasure.

"Turn around," he commands. As you flip over onto your forearms and knees, he brings his bound wrists over your head and body, trapping your arms to your sides. He grips your throat and buckles his pelvis against your ass. “Good girl,” he sings, gently biting and sucking at your nape. His hands drift lower and start circling your areola, causing you to throw your head up in bliss. Looking forward, you are met with your own reflection in the full mirror in front of you. 

You feel a mixture of embarrassment and arousal at the sight of the slutty expressions contorting your reddened face and how you’re being completely smothered by the dark angel on top of you. Hearing your submissive whimper, he follows your gaze. With a sadistic smirk, he presses his lips to your ear, "Oh, you degenerate little whore."

With his arms locked around you, he draws you tightly against his body and then hauls you both up into a kneeling position. Now you two are facing the mirror directly, just a mere few feet ahead. "Is that better?" he asks tauntingly, nipping at your earlobe. You unconsciously arch your back into him, as you watch him tease your erect nipples.

His hands continue trailing downwards, leaving goosebumps on your skin until they’re resting between your legs. Then with his middle and ring finger, he starts tracing your opening. "Look at this drooling mess of a hole," he laughs, spreading your lips to expose your dripping pussy. You see a long glistening strand of your own juices, dangling from your cunt. 

"Look yourself in the eye, and tell me what you see.” he murmurs while nuzzling your neck. His other hand is rubbing your clitoris now. 

“A whore.” you whisper between your moans. 

“Louder.” he coos, applying more pressure around your entrance. 

“A whore! I’m a dirty whore!” you yell, face flushed in humiliating submission. You jerk your hips forward, allowing him to slide his fingers into your traitorous, needy cunt with ease. 

“Again,” he demands, moving his fingers slowly in and out.

“I’m a whore.

I’m a whore.

I’m a dirty whore!” you call out into your apartment, while staring into your own reflection, tears welling from your eyes. 

You’re grinding yourself onto him as he fingers your sopping pussy faster. “I’m such a dirty whore.” you confess, squeezing your ass cheeks before spreading them for your master. You both groan as his wet cock rubs against your hungry rim.

He leans back and chastises you, “What a depraved slut.” The touching stops and he withdraws his fingers. He then brings his arms over your head, freeing you from his embrace before roughly shoving you forward. Your hands instinctively grab onto the mirror for support, stopping you from landing on your face.

You can see him maneuvering himself behind you, you feel his breath on your exposed ass and cunt. “Is this fuck hole hungry too?” he asks, running his warm tongue along your rim. His hand returns to your clit.

You bite your lip and nod, “mm hmm.” You try to push your ass back to encourage him in, but he withholds. “Use your words” he responds coldly.

“Please… my hole….” 

“This one?” he ponders, as he slides two fingers into your soaking cunt. You start desperately humping his hands, driving your engorged clit into his palm, while fucking yourself onto the fingers of his other hand. 

“My… ass… too…,” you beg like a bitch in heat, “Please fuck my ass!”

“You greedy fucking whore.” he retorts contemptuously . But this time he indulges you and you feel his wet tongue thrust past your rim. As he fucks his tongue into your ass, you feel your needy little hole suckling back, inviting him in deeper.

‘Yes. I’m a dumb greedy anal whore.’ You’re unsure if you said that out loud, and you no longer care. You look at the lude expressions on your face. You hear the sheer, horny desperation in your voice. You feel the growing sensation and pressure building between your legs.

“I’m a dirty whore.” you moan, sinking lower.

You're close now.

Right on queue, your guardian starts pressing hard against your g-spot with the pads of his fingers. On the outside, his other hand is pushing against the front of your pelvis, increasing the pressure even more. As your hips attempt to move back, his tongue impales deeper into you, exploring every crevice of your anal cunt.

It’s all too much. You’re sent over the edge.

Unable to hold back any longer, you explode in ecstasy. When your eyes flutter open again, you see your mouth gaping wide, as a stream of liquid trickles then rushes out of you.

To further your humiliation he nudges one of your legs up. You watch yourself climax in shameful surrender, pissing all over your living room floor, relieving yourself like a dog.

“Come for me, you beautiful, dirty whore.” he tells you as he furiously rubs your clitoris. You're shaking violently now, eyes rolled back. 

It must have been past midnight when you heard the knock on your door again. Now usually you would be more cautious at night, but this had been going on for the last hour. At this point, you're pissed. Against better judgement, you throw open your door to finally confront whoever has been pranking you… only to see nobody there. You peer both directions and find your building corridor completely void of any sign of life. But something catches your eyes.

You notice a small package in front of your door. It's a little black box, the kind that jewelry comes in, with your name on a card attached to it. They say curiosity killed the cat, and speaking of cats, you didn't want yours to escape into the hallway. So you quickly retrieve the box and return into your apartment.

You forcefully yank the card off and flip it over. On it is a short message written in a language you couldn't read… possibly Sanskrit-based, you'll have to investigate later. Turning your attention to the mysterious box, you anxiously remove the top cover. 

Inside you find a beautiful dark gemstone, likely a type of opal. You pick it up for closer inspection, revealing its intricate inner colours that glimmer under your dim lights. It pulls you in with its ever-changing, endless depth, like gazing into a kaleidoscope.

You decide to set it down by your window sill, next to your other gemstones. The moment it is illuminated by moonlight, the opal begins glowing red. You lean in closer in confusion but suddenly find yourself thrown back in an explosion of light. 

After the initial shockwave dissipates and your vision begins to return, you look up in horror. There is a man in your apartment. Or at least… what you think is a man, except this one has black feathered wings. He moves his head side-to-side, stretching in a sigh of relief, "Finally." 

Your focus is drawn to the thick collar wrapped around his neck, then shifts to the chain attached to the front of it,  draping down his muscular chest… and abs… and why is he wearing a loin cloth? Also where are the rest of his clothes?

"Who the fuck are you?!" you muster up, trying to hide the fear (and other feeling) in your voice. Now your eyes meet for the first time; his are bloodshot, with dark rings surrounding them, as though he hasn't slept in years. Despite his beaten and exhausted appearance, there is something terrifying behind his gaze. 

He smirks and starts adjusting the chain that leads from his collar to his bound wrists. “I’m your guardian angel,” he responds in a melodic yet mocking tone and steps towards you. “Now be a good girl and unchain me.”