Chapter 3

After cumming so hard on the shower room floor while being laughed at and peed on by a group of gorgeous girls, I realized that maybe I needed some therapy or something. What was happening with me was not normal. Certainly it wasn’t anything I thought a good girl should be thinking or doing about sex. I felt ashamed of myself for getting so uncontrollably hot and turned on while girls were screaming in laughter and calling me a human toilet bowl. I knew that was wrong, and gross. Who does that? Well, me, I guess.

The school had a free service for therapy. I signed up and get an appointment the next day. At least, there were no shower room urine assaults or midnight pussy eating incidents in between the time I signed up and went to see the therapist, Dr. Lisa Symonds. My roommate was actually away somewhere, which I found weird. It was right in the middle of the week, but I was glad to have some privacy.

Dr. Symonds greeted me warmly at the door to her office. She was a very tall woman, at least six feet, and thin. She was about 40, and was good looking in a middle aged sort of way. She had long legs, which were encased in black pantyhose. She welcomed me and gestured for me to sit down on a couch opposite her.

My family is not exactly into sharing feelings and all that, so I felt a it uncomfortable. Dr. Symonds encouraged me to open up. I started to explain the incident at the other school that had led me to this place, but I got flustered in telling the story - worried that she would think I had encourage the boys to fuck me senseless, and judge me for getting turned on by the experience. There were so many “you’re supposed to feel this way” comments coming my way when it happened.

She kept crossing and uncross her legs as she listened to me. She was wearing a very short skirt, really not appropriate for a woman her age, as well as a tight top, I noticed. She looked like a woman who hung around a bar waiting for free drinks, to be paid back with blowjobs in the parking lot, not like a therapist.

She encouraged me to keep talking. Getting flustered led me to feeling horny. There it goes again, right? And then, it all came spilling out of me: being forced to eat cum out of my roommates pussy, getting peed on in the shower ... and how each incident had made me insanely turned on, and how I had frigged myself to multiple orgasms each time - feeling more ashamed each time, which just inflamed my sore, swollen pussy all the more.

Now it was her turn to talk. She started to explain how a lot of our emotions are locked up in our gut biome - that bacteria in our gut and colon actually determine a lot of our feelings. In her opinion, my gut biome was unhealthy. I was holding a lot.

Really? I’d never heard of such a thing. Holding what in?

Shit, she said. You’re holding in your shit. You’re blocking a healthy gut biome by not shitting enough, not cleansing your colon. Ah ... now I was starting to understand, though I was aware that I had a problem with shitting. I thought I was pretty normal in that department.

“But,” she said. “There is something we can do about it.” I asked what that was. I imagined some sort of pill. No, she explained. I needed an enema, something to clear out my colon and bowels to make room for a healthy gut biome. This, she said, might alleviate this negative feedback cycle of humiliation turning into frenzied masturbation.

Okay ... really? Well, she’s the doctor, not me. How does one go about getting an enema? I wasn’t even sure what that was.