Work Text:
Dr. Brauer was your therapist and psychiatrist, he knew exactly what you needed. What you needed, according to him, was a weekend getaway at a large cabin he operated for group therapy. A retreat for anxious people to be among their own kind and slowly come out of their shells all in the rejuvenating fresh valley air.
It sounded lovely. Like the perfect way to de-stress. But it was a facade. Once he had you there you found that you were the only one there.
“They are just running a bit late and you’re a little early, how about you come on in and have some tea, I just made some. Nice and warm!”
You had a cup and got really sleepy, impossibly so, you nodded off and didn’t wake up until hours had passed. You didn’t recognize your surroundings. You were in a plush bed surrounded by soft pastel colors. Half of the room was split with iron bars like a jail cell and you were trapped inside.
You also found yourself collared and chained to a wall, letting you roam your cell and the bathroom in it but no further even if it was open.
Dr. Brauer quickly made his love and intents for you known, everyday fucking into your tight hole lick clockwork. Cuddling you, kissing you, cleaning you. It was practically ritualistic.
But he was a psychiatrist, and he was used to giving you a prescription. 100Mg of Venlafaxine ER was your medication. Since he took a lot of vacation time and had forgotten to get your meds he had to get creative.
Luckily he had a 300mg prescription for Venlafaxine ER himself. And he knew that 5 percent of the active ingredient along with 29 percent of unconjugated ODV, the major active metabolite, passed through in the urine. 1/3. Which was your dose!
In his warped mind it was clearly meant to be!
So every single day he slid his cock into your mouth and let forth a torrent of piss right down your throat, making sure you swallowed every salty drop. You wanted to spit it out but he was fucking insane and you learned that if you put up too much fuss instead of using your mouth he’d use your ass as a urinal instead, slipping in a butt plug to keep it in for a while, as apparently it absorbed certain things pretty well
Even when he began to work a few days a week he still insisted on the ritual of feeding you your medication by personally “making” it himself.
He enjoyed it so much, the thought of him curing and taking care of you, of making you ingest something that was a part of him and that had helped him with similar issues. It was so romantic~ Couldn’t you see that?