See a shrink to make it grow!

You figure the brain thinky person is your best bet. The worst they can do is send you off with bupkis. The Hurmins kind of intimidated you anyway.

Not even bothering to pull your pants and boxers back up or put on your shirt, you shuffle with a pathetic air back to your room and change into some jeans and a sweater over a t-shirt. Strapping on your grungy boots, you pointedly ignore the card sitting on your counter and lock up on your way out. The shrink's office only takes you a few minutes to get to. It's on one of the higher (and nicer looking) floors and has a door like you'd see for a private eye in the movies. 'Dr. Arbus, Ph.D, LPA' is written in bold, block letters on the frosted glass in the top half of the door. Trying the door, it's open and you step into a very fresh smelling and looking lobby. Sitting at the reception desk is a twee, very cute, young brunette. Also a white girl. Her mouse brown hair is up in a casual bun and she's wearing a sensible business suit. Her outfit strikes you as slightly severe for someone who greets people with potential mental issues, contrasting her sweet looking face. You figure that's just your anxiety about anything with a uterus talking though. Sack up man!

She deigns to acknowledge your arrival with a practiced smile that strikes you as a bit **** once she takes you in. "Welcome. Name?"

You don't know why you're caught off guard. They probably go by appointment. "Uhhh, John. I don't have an appointment though."

The smile is a bit more strained. "Are you looking to make one, then?"

OK, now you think she's being a bit bitchy. "I just wanted to ask about rates and if you guys maybe had the number to a support group or hotline?"

Her response is delivered with robotic practice. "Are you in crisis? Do you feel like a danger to yourself or others?"

"No." you reply immediately. "I really just want to talk and get some stuff off my chest."

The receptionist appears considering. "Well, Dr. Arbus is approaching the end of her session with the current client. I suppose I could take a minute to ask." She returns to her computer without a second look at you. "You may take a seat and wait if you want."

You still think she's being a bit of a bitch, but at least she's a professional bitch. "Thanks."

Almost ten minutes go by with her typing away and you playing on your phone with neither of you acknowledging the other. The only other door to the office opens and out walks a surfer-GQ looking white, blonde dude and a tall, elegant mocha beauty. You're staring, but you can't be bothered to realize it. The doc is definitely fuckable. Her chest looks avarage at best under her crisp, tan blouse covered by a sandy blazer. Her face is model quality with a serious, no-humor expression fixed into place. Her legs get the most of your attention. 'Legs up to her neck', you believe is the proper slang. They look super long, super soft and smooth, and sinfully toned yet feminine in a skirt that stops about an inch above the knee. Your perverted mind can easily envision her legs spread and waving in the air with her open toed pumps with you pumping away at her snatch. You immediately wonder if she shaves.

Come to think of it, Veruca may have been crazy, but you never got to see what she had under her thong. Maybe you could call her up and check it ou- No! Fuck you! No, no, no! Bad dog! This is why you came! To get these urges under control.

While you've been none too subtly ogling a professional, her secretary gives you the stink eye as she rises to greet her boss.

Dr. Arbus speaks with a professional, but somewhat cold tone as she ends the session with her client. "I'm sure we'll have more to talk about in a few weeks, Mr. Talbot. You've made some progress we can definitely build on. Please don't forget to inform Natalie if you need to reschedule again. At least three days advance this time please." The way her contralto voice growls sends a bit of a jolt to your happy place. The words she's saying are civil, but her manner comes across as more a dismissal than a 'thanks for dropping by'. She sounds like a woman who thinks she's better than everyone else and can prove it. Her salon quality black hair pulled into a tight bun with not a hair out of place only adds to the impression of a haughty professional. God, you'd love to use her like some crackwhore you picked up on a street corner.

Aaannd you're getting hard again. Fuck your life. Maybe you should just get a hooker on retainer. It's not like the 'seedy side' of town was that far away.

Regret later. The kinda bitchy receptionist and sorta arrogant shrink have compared notes and are currently regarding you silently. The receptionist is looking at you with a thinly veiled look of tolerance, but the Doc's expression has shifted from a severe mask to something...curious? Concerned? Dr. Arbus steps up to you sitting on her couch and extends a perfectly manicured hand with elegantly dextrous fingers. You manage to tear your gaze away from her legs and regard her hand for a moment. Her nails are unpainted, but perfectly maintained and not scratchingly long either. She'd probably make a great surgeon or masseuse. Or give good handjobs.

FFFUUUCCCKKK! Get you fucking head out of the gutter!

Once your gaze manages to make it to her face, (her secretary looks progressively less pleased, you notice) the doc speaks. "Hello Mr. John. I'm afraid Natalie didn't catch a last name," (nor does the secretary look like she cares) "but she said you wanted to talk about rates or call somebody?"

Her hand feels like warm silk as you shake it and you're glad your jeans are at least attempting to manage your stiffy. "Yes. I'm just feeling a bit tightly wound and didn't have anybody to really converse with. I thought a non-judgemental chat would help me get some perspective or let me air out my thoughts."

"Well, I'd say we do more than 'chatting' in this office, but 'airing out thoughts' sounds like a good start." The Doctor is smirking at you in a self-satisfied way that makes you simultaneously harder and apprehensive. "Join me in my office, please." The attractive therapist requests as she turns on a heel and walks back to her office. You follow her in and she shuts the door before motioning wordlessly for you to take a seat in a very plush armchair in front of her desk. The good doctor, however leans on her desk in front of you with far more casualness than you would've expected from someone like her.

You figure this could get expensive fast and decide to nip any possible financial arrangement in the bud. "I don't really have any money. I was honestly thinking you could maybe help me with a number to a free guidance hotline or something?" Don't you feel like a loser now?

Dr. Arbus takes your statement with zero surprise and a shrug. "Have you ever heard the phrase 'pro-bono', Mr...?" She trails off as she obviously wants you to finish her sentence.

"Wendell. John Wendell." You answer, a little baffled by her question. "And doesn't that mean 'at no cost' or something?"

"Close enough. I have a feeling it's in everyone's best interests to help you out with a minimum of fuss. So this session is 'on the house' as it were."

Well, that's very nice of her. "Thank you?" you state hesitantly. She just nods amicably in acknowledgement. "So Dr. Arbus-"

The head shrink immediately interrupts. "Wendy, please, Mr. Wendell." As you open your mouth to return the courtesy, the attractive psychoanalyst holds up her hand and you immediately shut your trap. "I will address you as John if you insist, and you can address me as Dr. Arbus if you truly feel more comfortable doing so. But, I feel you addressing me informally and myself addressing you formally would be more beneficial initially."

A little weirded out. "Oookayyy. Why? Shouldn't we keep things equal and professional?"

Another shrug. "Again, if you really insist, but I think it's important for you to see me as someone you can say anything to while I regard you with the proper deference and respect I would show a high-profile client." Her expression is much friendlier now than in the lobby. Almost indulgent. "So, sir. What do you need to say? What's on your mind?" Now that you have a green light to speak, you're embarassed at your perverted impulses. Wendy picks up on this and gives a little encouragement. "Come now, Mr, Wendell. Anything you say to me will be in the strictest confidence and you can speak as freely as you please in my office. I promise that no manner of speech is verboten here from you." Still picking up on some hesitance, she straightens up and gestures to a couch that looks just as plush as the chair you're sitting in. "Would you care to join me on the couch? I know my height can be a bit daunting at times."

Figuring that it might be a good idea to take her offer to make yourself a bit more at ease, you silently agree. She wasn't kidding about being tall. As you stand to walk with her to the back of the room, you take note of how even without her heels, you'd still be looking eye-to-chin with her. Right now, your eyeline is on her lower throat/collarbone. While sitting next to you on the couch, you're very surprised to see her undo her bun and shake her hair out like a cascade of black silk. You are really getting horny.

The therapist gives you an expectant look. Confession time. Might as well go for broke. "Well Wendy, I'm…" Just do it you little bitch. "I'm horny and women scare me."

Wendy's delicately arched eyebrows raise a bit, but she seems unperturbed otherwise. "I see." she starts slowly. "Well, that is not too uncommon, truth be told." She pauses thoughfully. "Is there any certain type of woman who makes you uncomfortable, or is it all women?"

"All women basically." you answer.

"I see." She repeats. "Are these women special in any way? Do they stand out to you…sexually?"

"They do."

The shrink nods. "How so? Any special urges you feel?" You consider stopping the conversation here before she adds. "Be completely honest." with a smidge of command to her tone.

Taking a deep breath, you just let it out and hope she won't report you for unburdening yourself. "Honestly? I really just want to fuck. I want to walk up to any woman who turns me on and either bend her over and pick a hole or **** her to her knees and make her **** on my cock. I want to use her ass dry and hear her scream bloody **** while I tear her anus up and call her a whore while punishing her holes. I want to shoot my jizz directly into her eyes and hear her cry cause it burns or pull up to any hot chick on the street in my car and tell her she's a slut and I need roadhead now."

The good doctor listens to your tirade without any reaction, but a neutral 'mmm-hmmm, mm-hmm'. Then with the same attitude as if she was asking you if you wanted some water, she queries, "Do you want your dick sucked?" You have to look shocked. "Right now? By me, I mean." she clarifies. While you're still processing her admittedly whorish inquiry, she carries on. "It sounds like you need some release. You've got cum churning in your balls and that can't be comfortable for you physically or mentally. And I am a mental health professional." She smiles pleasantly at you. "If you have no objections, I would be more than happy to service you."

By now, your brain has gotten some traction. "S-s-service me?!" you ask incredulously.

Wendy is completely matter of fact in tone and attitude. Spelling it out like you're stupid. Which, let's be honest, you kind of are. "I can stimulate your cock orally, with my mouth, to the point of ejaculation, to help you reach sexual release and relieve any tension you are experiencing." Seeing you stare at her like she just grew five extra heads, she carries on. "If performing fellatio on you until you orgasm is not to your liking, you are more than welcome to use my body in any other way that pleases you. You mentioned unlubricated anal sex with emphasis on your partner's vocalization of her pain." Another smile. "I can assure you I will be a screamer if you'd like."

What? The? FUCK? Has the world lost it's mind? Are you on some twisted version of candid camera? But her smile has not left her face and you don't have the willpower to resist any longer. "You're a whore." you state simply. "Alright. Get naked, leave on the heels, and kneel on the floor to suck me off."

Wendy practically beams as she stands up and undresses. A minute later, she's only wearing her heels and a pair of simple earrings and takes up position between your legs. "Alrighty!" Flashing you a grin equally slutty and eager as she undoes your fly and frees up your dick, "Let's see what we have here." Your stiffy bounces out and if anything, her grin widens. "So nice and hard!" The black slut kneeling in front of you favors you with a playful pout. "You poor thing! Don't you worry, Wendy will suck it until she earns a hot, gooey treat that says she made you happy."

Without further preamble, the formerly haughty professional shifts fully into the persona of an immoral whore and plunges facedown on your shaft. The stimulation of her warm mouth is too much and the day catches up to you as you fire off then and there. Both hands on the back of her head push her down as far as you can and you blow into a willingly sucking mouth. "Take it!" You whisper-shout to her, trying to keep your voice down to a dull roar. "You…Wwwhhooorreee!" you groan as the orgasm takes you.

Coming back to yourself after what is probably only a minute but felt like about five, you look down to your crotch to see your therapist still dutifully bobbing her head while giving you very gentle licks and sucks. Somehow, she seems mindful of the fact that you'd be sensitive after cumming. While she works your shaft from mostly hard to softening and back to fully hard, she is looking up at you, keeping her eyes on your face to gauge your reaction. As she feels the blood stiffening you on her tongue again, the cunt actually has the cheek to smile around your shaft. You feel like putting her in her place. Using the grip you still have on her head, you drive your fingertips with definite **** into her skull. She winces noticeably and her cock filled smile vanishes while she stops moving up and down your shaft. Her lips and tongue stay working you cautiously though. "Don't get too cocky, cunt. I am going to use you until my balls are totally dry and you are a fucking mess!" Her lips twitch into a smile again and she gives you a thumbs up.

You release her head and she resumes her blowjob for a few minutes while you idly run your fingers through her soft strands, brushing them away from her face to savor the sight. She takes this as some kind of permission to speak as she lifts her face off your shaft briefly to communicate. "I'm looking forward to it." she states with a wink and gives you a few quick licks and tender kisses. "More blowjob, or maybe you want to destroy my ass now?" she asks almost hopefully. She adds, "I could take a creampie to my slutty cunt too. If you'd prefer. Sir." Another wink and she's back to blowing you.