Voileting The Oath

(Nova Kane's POV)

The moment I left my father's study, something dark and reckless ignited inside me.

Therapy.

Tomorrow I was supposed to sit in some sterile office and let a stranger try to fix what was unfixable. Dr. Elias Voss. The name already felt like a challenge. A man who thought he could handle broken little rich girls like me.

I wasn't going to make it easy for him.

If this was going to be my last night of freedom before someone tried to "cure" me, I was going to make it count. I was going to ruin myself so thoroughly that tomorrow I would walk into his office still dripping with the evidence of my destruction.

I started getting ready at 9 PM.

I chose the sluttiest dress I owned - a skin-tight black mini dress that barely covered my ass, with a plunging neckline that showed off most of my breasts. No bra. No panties. Just heels high enough to make my legs look endless and my pussy easily accessible.

I looked like sex walking.

Perfect.

The club was called "Velvet Sin" - an exclusive underground spot where the rich and depraved went to play without consequences. The bass hit me the second I stepped inside, vibrating straight between my legs. I went straight to the bar and downed two shots of tequila like water.

Within fifteen minutes, the first guy approached me.

Tall. Tattooed. Cocky.

I didn't bother with names.

I pulled him into a dark corner booth, hiked my dress up, and straddled him right there. His thick cock slid into my already dripping pussy in one smooth thrust.

"Fuck yes," I moaned, riding him hard, my tits bouncing in his face as the music pulsed around us. People could see us if they looked hard enough. I didn't care.

He gripped my ass and thrust up into me, grunting like an animal. I came fast and loud, my pussy clenching around him as I bit his shoulder to muffle my scream. He filled me with his cum shortly after, and I climbed off him without a word, feeling it drip down my thighs as I walked away.

That was only the beginning.

I found the second guy near the bar - older, muscular, married judging by the ring on his finger. I whispered filthy things in his ear until he dragged me to the VIP bathroom. He bent me over the sink and fucked me from behind like he hated his wife, slamming into my cum-filled cunt with brutal force.

"Harder! Destroy this pussy!" I begged, pushing back against him.

He slapped my ass red and railed me until I came again, squirting all over the floor. He pulled out and painted my ass with his load.

By 1 AM, I had fucked four different men.

One in the bathroom.

One in a private booth.

One in the back seat of his Lamborghini in the parking lot.

And one against the wall in a dark hallway while people walked past just a few feet away.

My pussy was swollen, sore, and leaking multiple loads of cum down my legs. My makeup was ruined. My dress was wrinkled and stained.

And still... I felt empty.

I left the club at 3:30 AM and went straight home.

The moment I stepped into my bedroom, I stripped completely naked and threw myself on the bed. My body was exhausted, but my mind was still racing.

I grabbed my thickest dildo - the black one that stretched me to the limit - and slammed it deep into my sloppy, cum-filled cunt.

"Fuck... yes..." I moaned loudly, fucking myself mercilessly.

I rode it like a whore, hips slamming down, tits bouncing wildly. I pinched and twisted my nipples until they hurt. I even pushed two fingers into my ass while the dildo destroyed my pussy.

I came over and over again - screaming, shaking, squirting all over my expensive sheets. I changed positions constantly - on my back with my legs over my head, on all fours like a bitch in heat, riding it reverse cowgirl while watching myself in the mirror.

Every orgasm felt good for a few seconds.

Then the emptiness returned stronger than before.

By 6 AM, I was a complete wreck.

My voice was hoarse from moaning. My pussy was red, swollen, and leaking everywhere. My body was covered in sweat and dried cum. I lay on my back, legs spread wide, staring at the ceiling as the first light of morning crept through the windows.

Tomorrow I would meet Dr. Elias Voss.

The man who was supposed to fix me.

I smiled bitterly into the darkness, my fingers absentmindedly circling my sore clit.

He had no idea what kind of filthy, broken mess was about to walk into his office.

I was going to test every ounce of his control.

And deep down, I hoped he would finally be the one strong enough to break me... or the one I would completely destroy.

By 6:30 AM, I was still lying there, legs spread obscenely wide, my swollen pussy throbbing from hours of abuse. Cum from multiple strangers and my own juices had dried on my thighs and stained the expensive sheets beneath me.

I should have felt satisfied.

Instead, I felt hollow.

I reached for my phone on the nightstand with a shaky hand and opened the gallery. Picture after picture of my filthy night stared back at me - blurry shots I'd taken in the club bathroom, my face flushed with pleasure as different cocks disappeared inside me. I scrolled through them slowly, my fingers absentmindedly circling my sore clit again.

Even after all that, my body still wanted more.

I forced myself to stop.

Tomorrow - no, today - I had to meet Dr. Elias Voss.

I dragged my exhausted body into the shower, letting the scalding water punish my skin. As I washed away the evidence of my night of ruin, my mind kept drifting to him.

What would he look like?

Would he be old and boring? Or dangerously attractive?

Would he see through me the moment I walked in?

A dark, twisted smile formed on my lips as I rinsed the soap from between my legs.

Let him try to fix me.

I was going to walk into his office still reeking of sex, still dripping from the night before, and I was going to make sure Dr. Elias Voss remembered exactly what kind of patient he was dealing with.

I stepped out of the shower, my body sore but my mind already buzzing with filthy possibilities.

This therapy session was going to be anything but professional.