Barnyard Therapy
Carmen laid her fountain pen down against the notepad on her desk, angling it so no ink could dribble onto the case file. She ran a hand through her short cropped chocolate brown hair, but it fell back into hipstery pseudo-bedhead the moment her fingers left it.
“Alright, that brings our last exploratory session to an end,” she announced as she smiled at the woman across the desk, matte brown lips tight at the corners with barely any tooth showing. The kind of weary smile only a therapist knowing their client is about to fight their advice can give. The woman sitting there fidgeting with the pleats of her skirt rather than making eye contact wasn’t a client, Carmen reminded herself, or a patient or anything else. Those relationships were for licensed therapists. This was…wrong, whatever it was. But she had agreed to it, whatever it was becoming. Carmen took a breathe and paused, letting the silence add gravity to her next statement. “And it’s my opinion that you should seek cognitive behavioral—“
“Bullshit,” Julia said, her eyes snapping up from her knees to shoot her therapist an accusatory stare. “It doesn’t work.”
“For your particular profile of anxiety, ADHD, and—“
“Would it help?” Julia cut in again. She brushed a blonde highlight out of her green eyes and tucked it behind her ear with its brunette cousins as if to make sure her gaze could properly bore a hole into the woman trying to cut their work short. “In your honest opinion, would cognitive behavioral therapy help?”
Carmen met her stare and matched its intensity with her icy blue eyes, the patented shut-the-fuck-up-and-actually-listen smile returning to her lips. “No, it won’t. I don’t think any accepted psychiatric technique will help you feel fulfilled in modern society,” she said, her tone daring the other woman to interrupt again. “But you should still try.”
“I have tried,” Julia whined, fingers bunching up the hem of her dress. “You have my stupid file. Every type of therapy and medication for over a decade and nothing. I’m miserable at work, at home, dating, I just want it to end! Just tell me I’m unfixable and I promise not to put it in my goodbye note like that idiot who got your license—“
“Stop,” Carmen spat, cold fire burning in her eyes. “You’re not killing yourself. I have a treatment plan.”
“And that is?”
“Hucows.”
There was a solid thirty seconds of dead air between them. Julia looked the older woman over to make sure she hadn’t mistaken some madwoman for her advisor. Short, stylish brown hair, impassive blue eyes, slightly upturned nose and round cheeks over a comparatively delicate looking neck. A sweater vest over a white collared shirt to show she was professional but approachable. Her doctorate hanging on the wall behind her. Julia finally broke the silence with a sharp exhalation of air. “Who are you and what have you done with my therapist?”
“I’m not your therapist.”
“The weirdos that wear cow print bikinis and take that Doja Cat song way too serious?” she asked, her hands moving from her skirt and gripping the pudge around her middle reflexively at the idea of being compared to a fat animal. She looked down at the case file on the desk. At least a third of that considerable tome was dedicated to the constant childhood diets and grade school taunting that had landed body dysmorphia near the top of her laundry list of diagnosed mental issues. The very idea of cowishness was going to keep her from eating more than unbuttered toast for the next week despite only being on the chubby side of average.
“It’s somewhat more complex than—“
“I don’t have a fucking cow fetish!”
Carmen raised a hand to cut the oncoming rant off and delivered her me-doctor-you-dumbass smile for the third time. “I don’t have time for this, Julia. We’re at the Rubicon. I can give you a recommendation for a licensed therapist or you can do exactly what I say from now on. Without interrupting,” she demanded, hoping the girl would chicken out and opt for the former.
Julia rolled her eyes and nodded her agreement, but she was unable to keep from muttering “I don’t have a fucking cow fetish” again under her breath.
“Do you want the treatment or not?”
“What is it? All you’ve said is hucows!”
“Extreme, inadvisable, and predominantly sexual in nature.”
The petulant patient paused at that, thighs squeezing together as she stole another glance at her case file. Most of the pages within were notes pertaining either to her dependence on sex for human connection and comfort or her therapists’ utterly fruitless attempts to wither or redirect her libido. She had always suspected that any true path to happiness for her would have too large a sexual component for any therapist bound by professionalism and good taste to recommend. It was half the reason she had sought Carmen out and begged her way into these very unsanctioned sessions. “Go on,” she huffed as she avoided eye contact.
Carmen watched the woman’s whole demeanor change from combative to receptive at the mere mention of sex. This was Julia’s method, one Carmen had uncovered over weeks of sessions digging into every failed relationship. As long as she was being a brat there was no chance the conversation could get serious and therefore potentially depressing. She selected for partners that responded to her brattiness sexually, taking out all their pent up frustration in the bedroom. This fed her high sex drive and turned a partner from stressed to gratified, satisfying Julia’s compulsive need to feel helpful. Rinse and repeat until the partner couldn’t manage the frequency of fighting and fucking, so they fled.
The disgraced doctor stood up. Julia tensed but kept averting her eyes. Every therapist she’d had before correctly identified this same toxic relationship pattern.
Carmen took her time walking around the large oak desk. Every therapist observed that Julia was miserable outside of her cycle. Finally the doctor’s long legs came into her suddenly shy patient’s view of the floor. Every therapist had resolved to help break the cycle and guide her to finding joy in other aspects of life.
Carmen knew better as she pivoted to face Julia, one hand reaching down to cup the girl’s chin. There was no choice now but to submit to the guiding hand and lift her head up until looking at anything but those blue eyes was impossible. The cold fire was dancing in them again as Carmen spoke.
“Do you know what the last boyfriend I managed to contact called you? A succubus.”
She tightened her grip, forefinger and thumb sliding behind the girl’s jaw to keep her from attempting another quip. “The one before that described you like a sailor remembering a close encounter with a siren,” she snickered, digging her nails in just deep enough for Julia to know opening her mouth to protest would cost her some blood. “Everyone else wants to fix you. I will fix the circumstances keeping you from being happy the way you are. Yes or no?”
Carmen relaxed her grip just enough to allow Julia the beginning of a mumble before tightening it again so hard the poor girl winced. “Better yet, don’t answer. Either get up and sit on my desk or get out of my office,” she commanded before letting her hand fall away and stepping aside to give Julia room for her choice.
She stood on wobbling legs and rubbed at her jaw, staring in disbelief at the change that had come over the psychiatrist. This must be a taste of the treatment. That or a last ditch effort to scare her away. Her thighs burned from how tight she’d been clenching them. She looked over her shoulder at the door, then turned to look at Carmen again. She opened her mouth and shut it before uttering a word, thinking better of it when cold flame flared in that icy gaze. Fine, be that way. Julia Dumont had nonverbal coping mechanisms in spades.
She shot the doctor one last imperious look before turning to the desk, plucking the name placard that read “Dr. Brooks” up from the edge of the desk, and pitching it casually over her shoulder. The sticky notes and fountain pen followed suit. Carmen stood there and let the girl work as she hefted her own case file, opened it at roughly the halfway point, and flipped it upside down on the edge of the desk before hopping up to sit on it like a makeshift pillow.
If Julia had been hoping to get a rise out of her psychiatric adversary she would be disappointed. Carmen just smirked and sat down in the chair Julia had been occupying. She scooted it closer to Julia’s new seat and rested a hand on the girl’s knee. “You’re only happy when you can keep your mind too occupied with superficial chatter or pure animal satisfaction to slip into darkness,” she explained as her fingers drummed on Julia’s knee, pinky to pointer in succession before lifting all four and repeating in a slow rhythm. She let a finger fall with each coping mechanism she listed. “Smug satisfaction from being a brat, that warm fuzzy feeling in your tummy when you think someone is gratified thanks to you, getting stoned, fucking.”
Her pointer finger fell an inch further up the girl’s leg as she uttered the last word, and she repositioned her other fingers beside it before resuming her casual tapping pattern. Julia shivered. Carmen pressed on.
“So, we create an environment that lets you luxuriate in those simple pleasures.” She said the last word slowly, letting it roll off her tongue as she looked into Julia’s eyes. Her hand moved up another inch, now barely under the skirt’s hem. Another shiver.
“You’ll never have to think too hard.”
Mid thigh.
“So you’ll be happy.”
The swell of her inner thigh. That patch of skin that feels softer and warmer than anywhere else on the body quivering under each measured finger fall. Julia reflexively planted her palms on the desk behind her and spread her legs wider. She shut her eyes tight and forced herself to breathe.
“Make me happy,” she cooed as Carmen’s fingers intruded further, fingernails brushing the edge of her damp panties with each maddening drumbeat.
At long last Carmen moved the panties out of the way with one deft hook of her thumb and sent two fingers probing into Julia’s slit. Neither woman spoke as she ran her fingers up and down, rubbing them against one another to work up a good coating of Julia’s juices before slipping them fully into her at a leisurely pace.
“Cows are simple animals,” Carmen offered. Julia’s eyes shot open in indignation and she opened her mouth to protest this line of discourse, but she faltered as a thumb landed on her clit. The fingers inside her arced into a come hither gesture, adding pressure from the opposite side of the thumb and taking the fight back out of her.
“So, I’m going to teach you some simple, effective lessons,” the doctor continued. “Quantity,” she said in her most professorial tone as she pressed a third finger at the the entrance to Julia’s honeypot, “has a quality all its own.” The girl whimpered, feeling pleasantly stretched as the newest digit gradually pushed its way alongside the first two.
“You like to fuck,” Carmen said, enjoying the effect that simple statement of fact had. Julia nodded her agreement, her hips unconsciously bearing down on the fingers and making her whimper again. “So you’re going to fuck,” the psychiatrist continued, brushing her fingers back and forth against the sensitive little alcove behind the clit. She stroked with more force after each word. “A lot. Men, women, anyone. Everyone.”
Julia was barely aware, her eyes shut tight as her hips bucked with orgasm. The conscious part of her brain was totally taken up with the effort of not crying out. The plush flesh of her quivering thigh rose up between the fingers on Carmen’s other hand as the doctor held her firm, not allowing her to pull back from the pleasurable touch for an instant. “Your assignment for next session is to tell me how many strangers you’ve fucked that week.”
The poor overstimulated woman nodded weakly as she came down, hoping a moment of eye contact and an affirmation might buy her a moment of rest from her advisor’s ever rougher ministrations. Carmen shot her a wicked grin and snaked her hand from thigh to lower back. Julia squealed as she was forced to bear down on those fingers, her hips bucking against her will as her hands slid back to hook the edge of the desk behind her for stability. Her blonde highlights fell across her face as she panted, stuck dead center between too sensitive to continue and too close to cumming to stop. Carmen made the choice for her, rising from the chair and leaning into Julia as her fingers kept stroking that same sensitive area without pause.
Julia collapsed fully backward onto the desk as the second orgasm took her. She wasn’t aware of what sounds she might be making this time. All she could conceive of was the ripples of pleasure emanating from Carmen’s fingertips and radiating from there to her whole body. Carmen wouldn’t relent, planting a knee against the desktop for leverage as her thumb worked Julia’s clit in firm circles. The girl gasping for breath on the table stopped keeping track of her orgasms, the electric flaring of animal joy at the base of her skull growing too frequent to count. An uneasy warmth grew in her nethers. At some point Carmen had slipped a fourth finger inside her and was fanning the top half of her hand back and forth, covering what felt like the entire surface area of her pussy. That’s where the warmth was coming from.
“S-stop, too much,” Julia whined, too out of sorts to know she was talking over the other woman. She couldn’t process anything but the overabundance of pleasure and the growing worry that she was going to pee herself. “Don’t,” she croaked, trying to sit up. She arched her neck forward, a steady stream of monosyllabic protests falling from her dry mouth until the comet struck the side of her face. The pain in her cheek bought her a single moment of clarity, her consciousness rising above the thrumming of her nethers long enough to see Carmen’s hand poised for another slap.
“You’re going to make everyone feel good,” Carmen repeated, one hand still working feverishly inside the girl. Julia had time for the briefest of nods before the floodgates finally opened.
The sound that erupted from her lips as her eyes rolled back into her head wasn’t quite a moo. It was the sound that only a woman robbed of any conscious thought or self awareness can make, her vocal chords doing their part to release the explosion of energy overflowing every muscle and nerve of her body. She squirted clear, viscous fluid all over the rumpled case file between her legs as her pussy gripped Carmen’s hand in rhythmic waves tight enough to make her wince. The warm juice puddled between Julia’s legs as the doctor finally slipped her hand out, the sudden motion making the brainless girl’s back arch as she continued to ride out the orgasm of her life.
Carmen just smiled and set to work collecting her name plate and office supplies from the floor as Julia moaned and thrashed. Eventually the girl settled somewhat, spending some minutes with her chest rising and falling in great heaving gasps as diminishing aftershocks made her thighs clench and unclench. The doctor was holding a glass of water out when Julia finally cobbled together enough motor function to sit up. She took it and drank deep. Her view through the translucent glass made Carmen’s frosted eyes look that much more ethereal and dangerous.
“So,” Carmen said, the professorial tone back in full effect. “Go to a bar, or a concert, or Tinder. Wherever. Find the people that could use a good fuck. We’re not making an incel savior, but you’re only job right now is to put that pussy to good use. I expect an update next week.”
Julia just nodded, still too off guard to put up any protest. Neither woman addressed what had just happened between them as they slowly tidied themselves up and prepared to depart, Carmen holding the office door open with the bare hint of that predatory grin as Julia shrugged on her coat and wobbled on newborn calf legs to her car.
Once her new project was safely out of the office Carmen returned to her desk to organize the scattered case file. She laid every soaked page out to dry and laughed out loud as she picked up the manila outer folder. The cheap marker used to fill in the patient name on the protruding tab had smeared thanks to Julia’s waterworks, the last bit of her name warped and rendering her ‘Julia DuMoo’.
Julia went to her favorite dive bar that night. Her pussy was still tender and every muscle felt like she’d just run a marathon. Every time she told herself this was stupid and demeaning, that she wasn’t going to turn herself into a dumb sex object, she would remember squirting all over the desk with Carmen knuckle deep inside her. If that was the dumb sex object life, maybe it was for her. She could try it on, at least. She’d had her share of one night stands before. This could just be a wild phase until she proved to Carmen that the idea was stupid.
She found her first candidate nursing a beer alone at the end of the bar. He was tall, fairly cute, and big. Big enough that he could probably throw her around, her holy grail of sloppy hookup qualities. On top of all that he looked at least mildly depressed as he pulled at the label on his bottle and sighed to nobody. A man in a position to appreciate the gift between her legs that now belonged to the world if her not-therapist had anything to say about it. She boosted herself onto the bar next to him and smiled. “I’m Julia.”
“Paul,” he said, fingers working more quickly at the bottle label as he responded. The poor boy was nervous.
“Nice to meet you, Paul,” she replied with another flash of her pearly whites. “I have a therapy project I’m working on…” she tapered off, not knowing quite how to blatantly offer herself to a stranger. He was looking at her now, one eyebrow cocked. She finally settled on “I want to make you feel good,” in the sultriest tone she could muster. She threw in an eyebrow flutter for good measure.
“Uhh, I’m sorry. I really don’t have it in me to be teased right now,” he responded in a near whisper as he shrank away from her.
“Wait, no, no teasing,” she said as she waved her hands and then gestured wide as if offering for him to inspect the place for hidden cameras. She pulled her blouse down for maximum cleavage and leaned in against him. “Paul, I need you to take all that frustration and anxiety out on my pussy,” she purred as she laid a hand on his crotch, half mortified and half aroused by her bad porn parody act.
“And that’s how I got fucked holding onto a bathroom sink in a bar,” she announced. If Carmen approved or disapproved she couldn’t tell. The doctor was taking notes like it was a regular run of the mill therapy session. She made a twirling gesture with her pen, Julia’s cue to keep going.
“Right, so that was Paul. I hooked up with Evan with Tinder a couple days later, and I ate Cynthia out yesterday after we met on the bus.”
“Who else?”
“Uhh, just them?”
Julia felt oddly self conscious in the silence that followed, the scratching of Carmen’s fountain pen in the notebook making her feel like a schoolgirl sent to the principal’s office. After a judgemental eternity the doctor finally looked up from her work.
“Decent start, not amazing. Do better next week,” Carmen said as she gestured toward the door with her pen.
“That’s it?!” Julia protested. “No second step, no…no, erm,” she sputtered, words eluding her as she squeezed her thighs together and gave the middle of the desk an expectant look.
“Julia, look at me,” Carmen ordered, voice as hypnotic and icy as the eyes Julia couldn’t tear herself away from. “You’re going to leave and fuck more people than you did this week, and I don’t need to make you cum again for you to do it.” She was right. They both knew it. Julia got up without another word and left in search of her next lay.
Life continued on this way for six weeks, and although she would never admit it Julia was thriving. Every week she reported in with Carmen, her body count always bigger and the doctor’s lukewarm response always the same. For the past couple weeks all Julia had time for was scouting more people to please with her pussy. There was no time to be anxious about the state of the world or her place in it. No time to be self conscious about her calorie intake. No time to get to know someone and be disappointed in them or with how she behaved in a relationship. Every day was filled with making as many people cum as she could and then getting home too exhausted to be dwell on anything.
For a minute she thought she was cumming so hard it made her ears ring. After a few seconds she realized it was her phone’s alarm. She groped around on her bedside table as #4 of the day kept thrusting from behind, finally taking hold of the screaming rectangle and thumbing the alarm off as she tossed it onto the pillow. As it sailed away she caught the alarm’s text: ‘1:30 PM Dr. Brooks’.
“Fuck,” she groaned. #4 grinned and slapped her ass. Julia dug her fists into the sheet underneath her and started really throwing her big butt against his pelvis while clenching her pussy in quick bursts. It was her turn to grin at the sound of his helpless moans when he came inside her thirty second later.
Twenty minutes later she was checking her lipstick as she rushed into Carmen’s office. It would have been ten, but her uber driver took the wrong exit while she was too busy giving him road head to notice.
“Thanks for being so prompt,” the doctor snarked. She was leaning against her desk wearing a pencil skirt instead of her usual slacks. The pear shaped woman dressed down so often that the sudden showcase of her thick thighs and ample butt momentarily robbed her not-patient of her wits. Fortunately the truth came across as a clever comeback.
“Sorry, had to stop to suck a dick on the way here,” Julia answered back in a sing-song “just following doctor’s orders” tone. It earned her a chuckle.
“And how many does that make this week?”
“Oh! Umm. I don’t know.”
“Think hard. Give me a number.”
Julia looked at the ceiling and considered for a minute before offering a shrug in response.
Carmen let slip a small smile before resuming her usual unimpressed look, her arms crossed. “You fucked so many people this week you lost count.”
Julia looked up again and thought hard, brushing a strand of blonde hair behind her ear as she tried to make sense of the parade of men and women she’d had through her bedroom, plus the ones at the bar, the random acts of road head, that girl at the grocery store, that girl at the other grocery store…
After all that consideration she looked at Carmen and nodded her head. She had no idea what her body count was this week. She wanted to say more than enough, but the throbbing between her legs as she looked at how that pencil skirt was filled out disagreed.
Carmen smiled again. Both women knew this was some kind of debauched breakthrough. The first test passed. The doctor spread her legs a little and hiked up her skirt to reveal she wasn’t wearing any panties. “You know, I’ve been kinda stressed lately,” she said, keeping her tone casual. Julia cleared the distance between them in two long strides, dropping to her knees and burying her face between those long legs without wasting a word. Second test passed.
“Ohhh, someone has had a lot of practice,” Carmen cooed as her hand traced soft circles through the girl’s hair. It was longer than she usually wore it. She had been too busy to bother cutting it lately. “Now, can you listen and lick at the same time?”
The doctor shivered, deciding to take the sudden focused tongue stab against her clit as a yes. She spread her legs a little further, round ass bobbing against the desk in time the with the eager laps of the girl’s tongue. “Keep fucking as much as you want, but from now on I need you in the office more,” she instructed before gritting her teeth and bucking against that tongue. There was more to say, but she was already on the edge.
“Fuuuuuuck!” Carmen moaned, thighs shaking and knuckles turning white, gripping the desk edge as she came. Julia wouldn’t let up. The older woman let herself be licked and sucked to another orgasm before gripping the girl’s hair tight and pulling her talented tongue forcibly away. Carmen cupped her pet’s chin and gave her a look as they both caught their breath.
“You’re going to show up on time from now on or you’ll never get my pussy again,” she threatened before adding “A tragedy for both of us” with a wink. Julia smiled wide and nodded.
“Good. Noon tomorrow, then. Do not be late.”
Julia was five minutes early, having factored in her uber blowjob this time. She walked through the door with a bounce in her step, hoping for a repeat of either sexual encounter with the doctor, but Carmen just ushered her into a large storage closet attached to the main room. She barely had time to recognize the stainless steel milking stall for what it was before being shoved onto her hands and knees between the metal walls. She yelped as her yoga pants were yanked down to her knees.
“Cows do not talk,” Carmen hissed in her ear, shoving a couple fingers unceremoniously into her snatch. The doctor pistoned her digits in and out a couple times before removing them and guiding Julia’s legs a little further apart. She repeated these steps, fingering her and then adjusting her position until some unknown parameter was satisfied. “Do not move. Do not make a sound,” she ordered in the most aggressive tone Julia had ever heard her use. She gave the bared ass a firm smack and walked out the door.
Julia remained in place, shivering as the AC sent a cool breeze across her naked flesh. A minute later she heard the main office door open.
“Tom, welcome in! Please have a seat and we’ll begin.”
Carmen’s voice. She was conducting a therapy session! Julia wanted to pull her pants up and storm into the office to demand an explanation for being left to freeze in a fucking closet, but the venom that had been in Carmen’s voice as she probed her pussy and corrected her stance kept her frozen in place. That and she was almost immediately too interested in listening to Tom’s issues as the session started. Her heart went out to the stranger as he explained the issues in his upbringing and adult relationships, the anxiety and sexual dysfunction that followed. The lion’s share of the hour session passed before she realized it. Carmen’s voice drifted to her again.
“Well, that’s almost all our time. Rather than just talk with what’s left, I’d like to try an experimental procedure that I believe will do wonders. Good, follow me into the next room please.”
Every muscle in Julia’s body tensed as two sets of footsteps approached the door. Falling hard into a slut phase and fucking her disgraced therapist was just hot girl shit. Being crammed into a metal box with her ass on display for strangers was a bridge too far no matter what her dribbling pussy might say to the contrary. She was about to clamber to her feet and say so when the door opened and Carmen rushed to her side. The doctor grabbed a handful of her hair and held her head forward toward the far wall with enough force to show doing anything else wasn’t an option.
“I’ve prepared a controlled environment to work through your sexual anxieties,” Carmen said as she looked toward the doorway. Julia could only assume the man was standing behind her staring dumbfounded at the sight of her.
“Dr. Brooks, I don’t know about—“
“Tom, please,” she interrupted. Julia had to arch her neck back as Carmen kept a grip on her hair with one hand and leaned over to smack her ass with the other. “Have you ever seen an ass that you just need to fuck?”
Silence. Carmen shot Julia a final “don’t fucking move” look before releasing her hair and planting both hands on her ass. The girl shivered as the doctor pulled her cheeks apart and dipped a finger into her pussy. She held the glistening digit up for Tom to see. Julia heard footsteps coming toward her.
“That’s it, I can see you’re hard,” Carmen cooed like a proud teacher. “Just unbuckle your pants. Right, just like that. She’s dripping. Come take her. This is what she’s for.”
The last sentence hit Julia hard. It reminded her of how she felt the first time she’d been slapped during sex, or when her first boyfriend had called her a good girl as she looked up at him with cum all over her face. It felt disrespectful and full of devotion all at once. It sounded good despite how her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
Julia hadn’t worked through this storm of feelings when she felt Carmen’s hand cup her pussy. She heard a set of knees hit the floor behind her, and then her therapist was guiding a man whose face she’d never seen’s cock into her.
“Smack her ass, Tom.”
A moment’s hesitation and then a large hand gave her a limp wristed swat.
“Harder.”
The next one stung pleasantly. He grasped her hips as he loosened up, the pleasure of being inside her slowly outpacing the awkwardness. Julia didn’t notice Carmen’s hand sliding surreptitiously down the metal wall until it was pinching her nipple hard, making her mewl in surprise and jerk back against her anonymous lover.
“See Tom, she loves it. Fuck her harder.”
His fingers pressed divots into the soft curve of her hips as he found a rhythm and picked up the pace. A few minutes late she was grunting with each heavy thud of his pelvis ramming his full length into her with all his strength. It wasn’t long before he froze up without warning, moaning low as he pumped thick ropes of cum into her battered pussy. His orgasm lasted a good while. Long enough for her to know it must be his first good cum in weeks at least. Her toes curled as she considered just how pent up he was, how her body was bringing him such relief.
“Oh fuck I’m sorry I didn’t mean to—“
“Shh, Tom. That’s what she’s for.”
A moan escaped Julia’s lips as Carmen so matter of factly dismissed her humanity for the second time as a strange man’s cum dripped from her.
“See? She’s happy you used her. Now, go across to the washroom on the other side of my office and clean up. I’ll see you next week.”
Julia’s head swam as she stared at the wall. The sound of a zipper, then footsteps and the closing of the closet door drifted to her from a thousand miles away. Carmen’s face appeared in front of her suddenly. The older woman was leaning over the stall with a gentle smile. She stroked her hair as the tears came to Julia’s eyes.
“Shhh,” Carmen cooed, crawling into the few feet of cramped space between Julia’s stall and the wall it was facing before pulling the girl into a hug. “You did so good. You really helped him break through a wall we’ve struggled against for months.”
Julia just nodded and clutched the doctor’s sweater vest as she sobbed. She felt oddly at peace even as she wept, her body taking its time to work through the experience as her mind grew more and more at ease with what had just happened. There were no attachments, no arguments, no deception. Just the purity of helping someone. The tears were drying up when Carmen spoke again.
“Our next appointment is in a hour,” she announced, her voice transitioning slowly from loving to businesslike. “When Tom is gone you can clean up in the bathroom. Let me know if you need anything to be more comfortable while you wait in here.”
Julia shifted from one sore knee to the other but decided asking for kneepads this soon was too sluttish even for this situation. Carmen stroked her cheek one more time before standing to leave.
“Will I ever see their faces?” Julia asked.
“Only if we wind up double booked and have to use your mouth too.”
Julia walked into her apartment with the last of three faceless men’s cum still trickling out of her. “Something to think about on the ride back,” Carmen had said as she blocked the door to the bathroom at the end of the day. Julia did think about it all the whole way home. She was so preoccupied the uber driver had to settle for a handjob.
She flopped onto her couch and turned The Office on just for the background noise as she considered what she’d done and how she arrived here. She tried to think of a hobby she missed from before Carmen’s compulsory slut schedule. There wasn’t one. Were there any friendships she regretted neglecting over the past weeks? No, she had converted Robin and a couple acquaintances to fuck buddies during the first week of her new life. Everyone else felt like a social obligation she was grateful to be rid of. The simple truth was that she’d taken to full time fucking like a duck to water. There were no dark thoughts for her to be alone with. Just cumming and basking in the glow of a job well done making others do the same.
“Extreme, inadvisable, and predominantly sexual in nature,” she said, echoing Carmen’s description of the treatment that had taken over her life. It sounded like her ideal arrangement when framed like that. She plugged her phone in and double checked the alarm she’d set for a couple hours before Carmen expected her at the office. She spread her legs as her hand found its way down the front of her yoga pants.
“That’s what I’m for.”
Julia kicked her sweatpants off and adjusted the cups of her black and white Holstein patterned bikini. She was outgrowing it again. Spending all her time on all fours while a parade of strangers did all the work had her at her heaviest weight ever, but she didn’t mind. A little more tummy pudge was nothing compared to hearing the sharp intake of breath every time a new patient walked in for the first time and saw her round ass on display. She half suspected Carmen was unhinged enough to be spiking her lunches with some bovine sex hormone with how out of hand her tits and ass were getting. Whatever force was making her body so fuckable these days surely couldn’t be disappointed.
She slid into her stall, legs settling into the well worn foam of her kneepads, and hit the switch to engage her fuck machine. The hydraulic contraption flipped down from its resting place above the stall and pumped a dildo in and out of her so hard her cheeks jiggled. She dialed it up a little faster and rolled her eyes as the caught site of the vinyl decal on the side of one metal wall. It was a tiny cartoon heifer grinning wide with “Happy Cow Farms” written underneath, a gag Carmen found all too funny. Her mind blanked as the dildo pushed her to the first of the day’s orgasms.
“Not a bad life,” she thought as she heard Carmen greet the first patient of the day in the next room. She had the fuck machine to warm her up and keep her sated between appointments. Carmen added any creature comforts she requested. Hearing a stranger’s grateful moans as her pussy milked all the stress and worry away never failed to make her heart flutter. And if the brainless groans of ecstasy Carmen’s talented fingers ripped out of her during their periodic recreations of that first day on the desk sounded like the mooing of a content cow…well, maybe she didn’t mind. She might even be into it. After all, it’s what she was for.