The Therapist

Attached was a video file. I hesitated ... but curiosity got the best of me. The first shot showed me spreading my pussy, my eyes closed. Then it cut to me with my eyes open, cum squirting out of my pussy as I kept orgasming, staring straight into the camera. I thought the video would end there, but there was another cut, as the camera point of view was leaning over me. I was clearly asleep. A hand came down and the fingers spread my soaking pussy. First one, then two, then three fingers pushed into my pussy. Each time they came out entirely coated in cum. The fingers spread slowly, showing off the threads of cum between them. Then he wiped his hand slowly across my mouth and cheeks, coating them in cum. I didn't move a muscle.

The video ended. I touched my face, trying to feel if anything was left. I had already showered, so the impulse was silly, but I couldn't stop myself from rubbing my lips softly as I fell asleep.

****

The next morning I read the assignment.

"Write up the remainder of your experiences with the physical therapist"

A.pdf was attached about the merits of journaling for psychological health. I glanced through it. It sounded plausible ... but I wasn't sure about putting all my thoughts and experiences on paper ... Actually, I wasn't feeling better at all after yesterday's session. The whole thing was a bust. The therapist had done the same thing as the physical therapist. He had been much more gentle, but essentially he had abused me just as much. This was possibly even worse, as I came to him for help!

I resolved that I had to cancel the appointment and stop the payments. I had bought a session pack of 10 sessions as that was a much cheaper deal. I called his secretary and arranged a refund. She said she'd put it through and thanked me for my business.

With that taken care of, I had to turn my mind back to getting through another day. Unbidden thoughts of *both* my therapists kept intruding now. I felt guilty and disgusted with myself, all the while distracted by a throbbing sensation between my legs. My underwear was soaked through again and it was getting uncomfortable to wear it like this. I knew things couldn't continue as they were. I needed to find solutions.

So first up was comfort. If my body was going to act on its own accord then I would have to find a way to accommodate it and make it less distracting. So my first experiment was to throw all my wet underwear in the laundry basket and go commando. If I wore no underwear, then it couldn't get wet. And with a little bit of a breeze, the wetness would hopefully dry up on its own and not be so distracting. That meant I'd definitely have to combine it with a skirt. Luckily I had a cute plaid skirt that fit the weather perfectly.

Next, I didn't want to attract the wrong type of attention, so I definitely needed some thick boring stockings. But not the type that went all the way up cause those would just get soaked again. So I picked up some plain black stockings from the store that went up half-way up my thighs, and some black garters to keep them in place. It took some doing to get them on the first time, but it was all surprisingly comfortable.

Then my boobs and nipples would get sore and tingly as well. I needed a soft shirt that wasn't too constricting. So I found a nice wide long sleeve shirt with a very wide collar, so it fell off one shoulder. No bra of course, but the shirt was thick enough to hide hard nipples, and loose enough to not drape over them awkwardly.

I studied myself in the mirror. I looked cute and not very provocative, I concluded. Sure the plaid skirt was a little short, but the baggy sweater made up for that. And yes, that left one or the other shoulder bare, but otherwise the temperature would be too hot to manage. Basically, I should be able to focus better on my day dressed like this, without drawing the wrong type of attention again.

Proud of myself for coming up with practical solutions, I packed my bag, and headed out to do grocery shopping. I was all out of fresh vegetables and fruit. The sun was out and it was an all-round beautiful day. I whistled as I walked, not even that bothered by a slight trickle running down the inside of my thigh, and easily swatting away thoughts of the therapist's monstrous member from my mind.

It was a Tuesday morning, so the grocery store was nearly empty. A few fellows were stocking the shelves. One of them was crouched, stocking the lower shelf on the soda aisle. I leaned over him slightly, while I stretched up on tip-toe to grab my favorite bottle of coke from the top shelf. I overestimated the weight of the bottle and the angle I was reaching, and it fell down on the floor just next to the guy crouched down. He looked up at me, still stretched half-way across him. That's when I realized that both my skirt, and my loose-fitting sweater were hanging open toward him at this angle. He cocked an eyebrow, and a lazy grin broke across his face.

"Better watch out there, missy," he said, "You could give a fellow the wrong idea.... Dropping bottles on his head and all."

"I'm sorry." I stammered, and quickly straightened.

He got up off his haunches, retrieving the bottle from the floor. He handed it to me.

"Here you go, missy," He said, looking me up and down slowly.

As I went to grab the bottle from him, he didn't let go of his end.

"Did you find everything you're looking for?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow again.

"Ah, yes, yes, thank you." I stammered.

I felt my face flushing. I pulled the bottle out his hands, possibly too forcefully, and fled into the vegetable aisle. With the lewd fellow out of sight, I smoothed my clothing, took a deep breath, and went looking for the rest of my groceries. That's when I noticed they were all out of cucumbers. I approached a kindly old woman stocking the apple shelf.

"Excuse me, would you have any fresh cucumbers left? Maybe in the back?" I asked her.

"Ah, let me see. Cucumbers. We might! Let me just ask Calvin to go have a look for ya," she replied.

"Calvin!" She yelled, "The kind miss would like some cucumbers. Can you go have a look in the back?"

A grunt came back in reply.

"You better follow him, miss. Calvin is new and liable to confuse the cucumbers with green peppers. Just head along the main aisle and take a left through the door. Then the produce stock is all the way in the back room to your right. Let me know if Calvin can find it. I'd go with ya, but my hip is killing me." She finished.

"Ohw ... ok. Sure, thank you." I replied, a bit flustered.

I headed down the main aisle and through the door into the personnel-only area beyond. It was rather cramped and dark here, and slightly chilly too. I kept a right and made my way to the back where I found another door. I opened it gently, and saw five more aisles stretching in front of me in the half dark. A pair of feet were visible down the third aisle to the right.

"Hi, the lady sent me down here to help you find the cucumbers. You're Calvin, right?" I said, as I closed the door behind me.

No reply.

I walked up the third aisle, and saw someone in the dim light, rummaging through a large cardboard box on the bottom shelf. As I came nearer, he looked up, and grinned.

It was the same fellow as before. He cocked an eyebrow again.

"Well, isn't it my lucky day." He whispered.

I froze, conscious of the throbbing feeling between my legs intensifying.

"Look what I got for you." Calvin said, holding up a cucumber. "This was what you wanted right," he said, as he walked toward me.

My mind blanked. I couldn't move. I wanted to run. To scream.

Instead I just stared at him.

"What happened, little missy, " He asked, as he moved even closer. "Cat got your tongue?".

There was no way for him to move past me in the cramped aisle. The door was behind me. Of course he'd come this way. I needed to calm down.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes for a second.

"Yes, thank you." I said, hearing the quiver in my voice.

I turned around to make my way to the exit on shaking legs. Calvin was just inches behind me.

"Hold up a second." He growled, and I felt his hands grab me by the waist. "I want to give you your cucumber personally, missy."

He pushed me into one of the food racks, bending my upper body through a gap in the produce. He lifted my skirt, exposing my bare ass between the black garters.

He whistled long and hard.

"Wow ... I thought I saw your wet pussy in the store, but I couldn't believe my luck that a slut like you would come by flashing herself to me in broad daylight." he said.

"What are you doing?" I stammered. "Stop, please. I didn't mean to!"

My voice was trembling.

"Please let me go. I didn't mean to do anything. I couldn't help it." I whimpered.

That seemed to give him pause.

"You couldn't help it?" He asked, surprise coating his voice. "So, you can't help flashing strangers in the store, is what you're saying? You can't help wearing no underwear and dripping your juices everywhere?"

And as he asked that last question, he pushed a finger into my pussy.

I gasped.

"No, please stop." I whimpered.

"Hmm, " He said, "You are awfully wet. But sure, I won't fuck you unless you want me to. I'm a gentleman. But what gentlemen also do is hand ladies their groceries."

And that's when I felt a pressure building against my asshole.

"I do need a little ... lubrication though." He said, as he slipped another finger into my pussy. Then the pressure came back against my asshole.

I started whimpering, begging him to stop.

"Please, don't do this. Please." I said softly.

Then one finger penetrated my asshole. He slid it slowly in and out, gliding across the tight hole. I couldn't stop myself from gasping.

"What's that, little missy? Just give me a minute. Need to warm you up before I can hand you your groceries." He whispered.

As he pulled out his finger, a second finger started pushing in. I felt my asshole stretching farther and couldn't stop myself from moaning. My mind was going blank again and I didn't know what to do. I could feel my pussy juices slipping down my thighs and coating my stockings.

"Ah, you're gushing, honey." He said softly. "Just a little farther, we're almost there."

Then he pushed a third finger into my asshole. It felt so full, and I felt so dirty. I was moaning very loudly now. When he pulled all three fingers out, I felt entirely deflated. I leaned on the produce rack as my legs felt too weak to carry me.

Then I felt a new pressure against my asshole. Not his fingers.

"Here is your cucumber, missy," he said with a slight laugh glittering through his words. "Or should I say call you what you are? A little worthless cockslut?"

And as he said the last word, he viciously pushed the cucumber 10 inches up my asshole. I screamed at the top of my lungs.

As the echo of my scream faded, and my asshole adjusted to the huge vegetable penetrating me, pinning me into the produce rack, I felt my rapist cup his hand under my pussy.

"Wow... you're squirting cum juices, you dirty, dirty slut" He whispered.

I whimpered.

He started moving the cucumber slowly in and out of my asshole. On each in-stroke, I could feel a slight flood of cum juices spilling out of my swollen pussy.

"Hmm, this is amazing." He whispered. "Also, I'm gonna break my promise."

His cock slid into me in one smooth stroke, my pussy trembling to receive it. I moaned loudly.

"Now tell me how you really feel, you little cumslut. " He whispered. "Tell me how your pussy and your asshole feel."

"I ... I don't know. " I stammered softly.

"Ohw, I think you do know ... I'm going to quietly wait here till you tell me how your pussy and asshole feel, little cumslut," he said. And true to his word, he stopped all movement just as the cucumber was again 10 inches up my asshole, and his cock lodged deep into my throbbing pussy.

"I ... please ..." I whimpered.

"Please what?" He said, imperiously.

"Please ... just ... I don't know." I said.

"Please what, little cockslut?" He said more loudly.

"Please just fuck me. I'm sorry. It's my fault. I just get so wet. And all I can think about is cock. I can't help it, please just fuck me." I said in a jumble. My cheeks felt red, a tingle shot up my spine. I felt my asshole relax farther as my pussy tightened around his cock.

"Tell me more, cockslut. Tell me what you feel," He said sternly. "Tell me what you want."

"Yes ... yes, sir." I stammered, my mind reverting unbidden to the therapist's training. "I want you to fuck my wet pussy while you rape me in the ass with a cucumber. I want you to call me dirty names and humiliate and use me, sir. I want your cum dripping off my titties. I want you to brutally abuse me till I'm choking on your cum and it spurts out of my noise with the force of you raping me. And then I want you to leave me in a worthless heap on the ground like the dirty cumslut I am."

As I was talking, my hips started pushing back onto his cock and the cucumber, gently rocking back and forth. With each word, my hips started to move more forcefully and my voice came more loudly. At the end, he grabbed me by the hair, bent my head back, and started to viciously fuck me, banging my body mercilessly into the produce rack. I was screaming in pain and ecstasy.

He came hard then, in my sore and abused pussy. He let go of my hair and slumped back forward across the rack, the cucumber still sticking out of my abused asshole. As I was lying there in a daze, his cum dripping out of my pussy, I heard him zip his fly and walk off.

I was too tired to move. I don't know if I dozed off or just lay there in a stupor, but after some interminable time, the door to the backroom opened again. I was still lying there, and startled from the sound. What if someone found me like this? I was frozen in place, not able to think at all.

"She's back there, " I heard Calvin's voice drift up. "And like I said, don't worry. With this confession on tape she can't sue whatever we do, so have fun."

The door closed again, and I could hear multiple sets of feet coming closer.

****

I can't say if it was minutes or hours before I stumbled out of the back of the grocery store. My hair was a mess and my legs could hardly carry me. They had ripped off all my clothes, and I had only bothered to throw my skirt and sweater back on. I was holding my shoes in my hands, and my stockings were peeking out of my bag.

Concentrating on walking right and not drawing too much attention, I frantically went looking for Calvin. I found him talking to one of his co-workers in the condiment aisle.

I froze, unsure about my plan. Then my knees started buckling and I caught myself on a shelf. Calvin and his buddy looked up.

"Ah, it's the little missy. How are you feeling?" He said cheerfully, a smile spreading from ear to ear.

The fellow behind him adjusted his pants and couldn't keep the smirk off his face.

"Didn't expect you to come asking for more service so quickly." He added, elbowing Calvin in the ribs to make sure he got the joke.

"I think she needs a good meal and a long rest first, don't you think?" Calvin said with mock sincerity.

They calmly ambled over to me as I was straightening myself out again, willing more strength into my weak legs.

"I ... uh ... I have to ask you something." I stammered, looking up at Calvin.

"Oh? What could that be, missy?" Calvin replied.

"I need that ... recording you have of me. Could you ... could you send it?" I whispered.

Calvin cocked his familiar eyebrow at me again.

"Suuuure ... but I'll be keeping a copy myself as well... What are you going to use it for?" He asked, " Have more .... Attendants?"

"No, I ... please just send it to me. Here's my number." And I slipped him a piece of paper and turned to leave.

"Not so fast, missy." He said sternly. "A favor for a favor right?"

His buddy nodded in the background.

I turned back around slowly.

"Wasn't that enough?" I hissed.

"Now don't be like that, missy. This one will be good for you ... give you some ... energy. " He smirked.

He looked over his shoulder and then grabbed a jar of chocolate spread.

"Lift your shirt, missy" he whispered as he unscrewed the cap.

I looked at him questioningly.

"If you want the recording, lift - your - damn - shirt." He whispered again.

I looked over my shoulder and saw no one, then I slowly lifted my shirt, exposing just my belly.

He dipped his fingers into the chocolate spread and ran his fingers across my belly. The spread felt cold on my skin. He was writing something.

"Now lift it higher, my little cumslut" he whispered, looking me straight in the eyes.

I lifted my shirt all the way up to my chin, exposing my full bosom.

He dipped his fingers in the chocolate spread again, and then dapped each of my nipples with a generous mound. Next he grabbed his phone and snapped a picture. He turned his phone to his friend who nodded appreciatively, one hand down his pants.

Then he turned the phone to me. I saw my face, my exposed titties, and the words "Calvin's Cumslut" painted on my belly.

I thought I was too tired to feel anything, but my face went red again.

I moved to wipe it all off so I could pull my shirt down.

"Ah ah" Calvin said, raising his eyebrows. "One more step".

Then he bent his head forward and took my nipple into his mouth, sucking off the chocolate spread, and swirling his tongue around. I gasped softly. He moved his clean hand under my skirt, swirled his fingers once between my pussy lips and into my used and abused pussy hole. His mouth went to my other nipple, licking, sucking and swirling. His finger flicked my clit, my juices gliding across his hand. Then he inserted two fingers into my pussy as he kept flicking and licking.

I could feel my pussy starting to pulse. He bit softly into my nipple, and I strangled a moan in the middle of the store. Then his head came up slowly, leaned in close to my ear, and he whispered.

"Cum for me, my little cumslut."

And I came so hard. My cum was squirting all across his hand and the floor, my eyes rolling back in my head. Vaguely I noticed a flash going off, but my mind was dissolving into a million pieces.

As I came to, I found myself slumped forward, my head buried against Calvin's chest, his fingers still in my pussy. I glanced over his shoulder and I saw his buddy put away his camera.

"That'll do." Said Calvin cheerfully.

He gently pushed me away and propped me up against the condiment aisle. Grabbed his phone, did something and said "Done".

He and his buddy walked away whistling a jaunty tune.

I felt my phone buzz in my pocket.

*****

I'm not sure how I made my way home or what I did that day. I felt so drained that time passed in a blur. The next day I woke up with my phone blinking another message from an unfamiliar number.

It was Calvin.

"Me and the boys would love to see you again at the store, little missy. Hope you're feeling ... energized again. Here is a picture to remember us by."

Attached was the picture of me holding my shirt up, chocolate spread across my nipples, and the words "Calvin's Cumslut" drawn across my belly. I felt guilt and disgust well up in me again, and threw my phone across the room.

I must have fallen asleep again then as I woke up again in the middle of the day. Luckily I had taken a week off work to sort my head a little or I'd have been in so much trouble. I made myself some breakfast, and recovered my phone - luckily unscathed - from a corner of my bedroom floor.

The first thing that greeted me was my tired face holding up my shirt, but I clicked it away as fast as I could, trying to ignore all the mixed and knotted feelings in my mind and body. Then I noticed the audio file on the top of the message chain.