Pervert Reform School

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Summary

A reform school for filthy perverts who were too much even for pervert island. Can they be reformed? Or are they destined to be outcasts amongst outcasts forever?

Genre
Lgbtq
Author
Robyn
Status
Ongoing
Chapters
6
Rating
n/a
Age Rating
18+

1- Session: Jet

Pervert Reform School

Session 1: Jet Black

A ebon entity shaped like a bipedal feral wolf or a dog made of shadow. Small beady red eyes stare from absence. Shining white teeth and pink dog collar with no tags make up the only color allowed to exist on Jet. They sniff the air of the unfamiliar space. Plants galore on the desk, and in vases around the office. Figures and painting on the vagina make up most of the decor. Counselor Philautia is a voluptuous avian-human hybrid. A beautiful dark skinned woman's face and two sets of bird wings. The top set are white and long swanlike while the bottom black and short like a crow. Her feathered breasts are prominent due to the corset around her waist. Her hair is wild and colorful like a rainbow going through a spin cycle. In the bowl on her desk next to her name plate are sex toys and lubes. Mostly small bullets and masturbating eggs. With delicate talon-like fingers she picks up an egg and gently tosses it to her patient. Jet catches it in his big paw-esque hand. The Confusion across his face is lost in the pitch of his mostly featureless visage.

“Hello, Jet. I'm Dr. Philautia. I want you to use that during our session today. Do you know why you've been sent to this facility?”

“Judge Roo said I have to be here.” Jet says in an eerily soft voice.

“Yes, but do you know why?”

Jet stares at a picture of an open pussy. It's a detailed illustration of a wet pussy moments after being ejaculated in. The question lingers unanswered. Big legs bounce up and down as Jet gazes away.

“In the last year, you have had twenty six different relationships with members of the community. All of them ending in bad break ups. All of your exes have launched complaints about you. Irritable personality, argumentative, self absorbed, easily distracted.” Dr. Philautia says the last bit in a raised voice. Jet registers the tone then looks at her vacantly.

“I had thirty.”

“What?”

“Your file is wrong. I've had thirty relationships this year. Four are still on going. Guess I'm not all bad.” He said with the satisfaction of someone taking someone's queen in chess.

“So the few outweigh the many, is that it?”

“No, but data shouldn't be ignored just because it doesn't fit your narrative. Just cuz I didn't complain to the community doesn't mean they were saints.” Jet says his soft voice is getting a little deeper.

“So you take no responsibility for your actions. They all had it coming?”

“I didn't say that. That's not my point. Yes I fucked up, but I didnt do it alone. Sure I hurt people, but that's a two way street. Weird I don't see any of them locked in here.”

Dr. Philautia scribbles types on a small laptop, defiant, combative. Feels persecuted. Resistant to other perspectives.

“Jet, I want to do a technique I'm fond of. I want you to close your eyes and use that toy I gave you. It's lubricated. I will ask you a few questions. Answer in no more than three words. When you reach completion the questions will stop. Can you do that for me?”

“Sure, why not?” Jet says. They want to fight back. Fighting comes easy, win or lose is easy. The conflict is safe, because at least there's a chance. This space is perilous with nothing to control, nothing except…Too much thinking. They're sick of thinking. Moving a hand to their knotted cock they begin to get hard. In the dark there is a familiarity and with a sense of recrimination. The mind just emptied, tries to fill with thoughts. Their paw slides up and down their shaft. Pleasure starts to come into the fray.

“Did you love any of the 26 exes?”

“All of them.”

“What went wrong?”

“Incompatibility went crazy.”

Jet strokes faster as if trying to run from the questions. They start to moan, awareness makes them muffle the sound.

“Don't do that. You can be loud here , it's your time. Use the egg I haven't you.”

Jet forgot about the toy altogether, used to only using his mitts. The egg stretches over most of their cock. It warms around him, likely the lube. It's pleasant, they continue to stroke. Sensation their unused to wash over them as they fuck the provided the egg. Falling to all fours they rut the egg like they wound someone in heat who gave them the go ahead.

“What do you want from your relationships?”

“To be theirs.” Jet is growling their words as they continue humping increasingly forcefully.

“What is your biggest problem in a relationship?”

“I don't know what they want.”

“Thats more than three words. Try again.”

“I don't know.”

“Whose face are you picturing right now?”

Pink hair, bright cheeks, and petals come to their mind. Growls become screams as they cum into the egg.

“OK, that ends the exercise.” She says she leaves her desk to hand Jet a hand towel, and a small bottle of water.

“We have a few more minutes. I'd like to discuss my thoughts.”

Jet breathes heavily.

“I believe you that you think you're getting screwed, and maybe you are, but I also think the voices of twenty six people can't be overlooked. Your answers were sincere, but I sense an intensity about you that could be harmful to others. I want to work with you to help build less, but more stable bonds. That sounds ok to you?”

“Why do you ask questions, like I have a say in the matter?”

“You're talking now, you have a day. I'm not your enemy if you rather focus on something else, I'm open to it. This is your time.”

Jet sits in silence until the end of the session. After a shower they lay on their bed replaying their year. Frustration grows because they can only remember how they felt. Memory is an unreliable narrator. With their hand on their cock they drift away jerking with no particular aim.