Canine Therapy 1

By Chilean Gold.
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Amy Macdonald was afraid of dogs. She was a model student with straight A’s and a star athlete for her gymnastics team at university, but now she was too scared to go outside her dorm. Earlier that September, she was doing her usual running routine and was blindsided by a rottweiler that had come off its leash. She could remember the incident as if it were happening to her now: being knocked onto her back and pinned down by the hairy beast, the hot panting of dog breath on her neck, her disgusted groans as drool from his wet tongue slathered across her face.

The thing even bit her! The most traumatizing thing etched into her brain was the sight of the dog’s cock, erect and pressing against her sex through her tracksuit bottoms as it dry-humped her restrained body. Her screams excited the dog; he was too heavy for her small frame to break free. She was pinned and humped for minutes before the owner found her and re-tied the pet to its leash. She lay there in shock, stained with drool and doggy precum.

After a lengthy apology from the owner and a bandage for her arm, the incident was primarily done with, but Amy couldn’t move on. The owner even paid her a grand out of pocket to cover damages to her well-being, but she didn’t spend it. Every time she saw a dog, she was reminded of her bite, the humiliation, and the trauma. She couldn’t go for runs because trails are full of dog walkers, and leaving her dorm to attend lectures was doable but brought the risk of another wild dog attacking her. Just the thought of a dog was unbearable. She was even having trouble masturbating, leading to many restless nights. She’d spoken to her parents and friends, who all agreed therapy was in order.

That was more than a month ago, and little progress had been made. The health service in her country was stretched thin, so appointments were few and far between and usually consisted of a lot of talking with little usable advice. It didn’t help that she lived in a different city on campus, so meeting up with friends and family was limited.

Amy was getting desperate and started looking online for private care. She didn’t want to miss any more lectures, training sessions, and social events, but more than that, she wanted to be able to go outside with confidence again. She still had that money from the dog owner, which she could use to fund her mental recovery.

Searching online was disappointing. Everything in her budget was a scam, and everything legitimate was too expensive. After what felt like forever, she stumbled upon a Facebook group for Natural Anxiety Reduction, headed by a mental health guru-type named Dr. Conseil. After a bit of digging, it turned out he was an actual doctor, Ph.D. and all, who turned away from the ‘business of big medicine to help people through tailored mentoring and physical therapy. Before reading the reviews, Amy first found the colorful, filled with colorful hippy-dippy language and graphics.

Hundreds of people praised the doctor for his effective albeit unorthodox methods and how they, too, have turned away from mainstream medicine after seeing the wonders of his service. A little more scrolling and Amy found his website, his office wasn’t that far from her, and consultations received a full refund if they weren’t delighted. It wasn’t even expensive, to begin with. Maybe it was desperation or good marketing, but Amy decided to give it a shot and booked a visit later that week.

She spent the next few days in anticipation. Amy was skeptical of non-scientific medicine, but she was studying sports and physical health at university, so the concept of physical therapy aiding mental health was familiar. Even if she didn’t like the alternative methods, she could leave with the knowledge that she at least tried, which would be something.

On the day of her appointment, she looked from her bedroom window and saw her neighbor, a man in his thirties, with his dog, a Pyrenean Mastiff. The dog was awful, not only huge but excitable. He would bark when she was in the dog’s eye line, running up to the fence. She had asked the owner to keep his dog inside, but he wouldn’t. There was nothing wrong with having a dog off its leash on your property, even if it barked at pedestrians. Amy resorted to leaving through the back garden, hopping over the fence, and taking a detour through some bystreets to the bus stop.

A short bus ride later, she was outside Dr. Conseil’s office. It was a large, detached house, slightly modified to resemble a health clinic, but it still looked like a home. It had a cozy feeling that many real hospitals lacked. Amy knocked on the large wooden door, and a woman wearing only a thin silk dressing gown answered. She looked around thirty, naturally beautiful, with pale skin and curly brown hair that stopped at her neck. Her gown was tied at the waist, but remained loose above, revealing her ample breasts down to the areola and cut at the upper thigh, showing her shapely legs. Her smooth pussy was visible where the gown parted as if she were trying to draw attention to her sex. Amy blushed, taken aback by her confidence to answer the door like this; she was very clearly nude underneath the thin gown, but that didn’t bother her.

“Um – hello. I’m here for a two-thirty appointment with Dr. Conseil. For Amy Macdonald?” She asked, gathering her thoughts.

“How wonderful!” she beamed, motioning for her to step inside. “Since it was your first time coming here, I wanted to greet you. I am Laura Linton, Dr. Conseil’s assistant and wife, and I formally welcome you to our home and office. I’m sure you will love it here. Please don’t be too alarmed by how I dress, I know it’s a little daring, but all our clients get used to it. Dr. Conseil is upstairs in his office. Come along.”

The inside of the house was decadent, full of solid oak and soft cushions. There was a lit fireplace in the foyer which just screamed sophistication, and the wallpaper was a deep red, patterned with golden swirls like vines. On the foyer table were dazzling crystals of varying shades, and the smell of incense was diffused into the air. Amy followed Laura upstairs to Dr. Conseils office, taking in the decor as she walked past. Intricate ornaments from various cultures sat on shelves and hung from the ceiling, each shining like its own chandelier.

Various paintings were spaced along the wall of the staircase: each one of a nude woman in different poses with a striking resemblance to Laura herself. The doctor’s office was sizable and rectangular, with large windows that opened to the street. More incense sticks on the office table, the table between two cherry red leather sofas, each missing one arm for clients to lie comfortably. The back wall was lined with bookshelves, in front of a desk, behind which was the doctor himself.

“Oh, dearest, Amy Macdonald is here for her appointment.” Laura chirped.

The doctor calmly stood and smiled at Amy. He was a tall, broad, lean man, around forty, with long, grey hair tied back into a bun. He was clean-shaven, with a defined face and noticeable lines along his forehead. He was dressed formally in grey trousers, a white collared shirt, and a mustard yellow jumper.

“Wonderful. Bring us some tea while Amy and I talk for a few minutes,” he calmly replied.

Laura left the room, and Dr. Conseil moved to one of the red leather sofas and sat down. He gestured for Amy to sit on the other sofa, and she did.

“Hello, Amy. I do hope you had an alright time getting here. It must have been difficult, given how you’ve been feeling recently,” he said.

“It was a bit worrying, but I was okay,” she confirmed.

“Exactly what I want to hear. When you booked your appointment with me, Amy, you spoke about trying to cure your fear of dogs and that your problem began with an altercation with a dog. I would like you to tell me more about this incident and don’t spare any details. I want to know exactly what we are dealing with here,” he said.

“Well, to be specific, it all started about a month ago when a Rottweiler attacked me. I was running when it jumped on me from the side and pinned me down. He was too heavy for me to move and was barking so loudly that it was all I could hear. His claws were scratching me, and when I tried to fight back, it bit me on my arm,” she said, lifting her left sleeve to reveal the faded scar of teeth marks on her forearm.

“So I froze. It held me down a little while, licking my face and covering me in its disgusting slobber. Once the owner restrained his dog, I was a mess, all shaking. I wanted to shout at him, but I was still in shock, you know? He apologized profusely afterward and compensated me, but ever since, I’ve been deathly afraid of dogs, and I don’t know what else I can do other than talk to a professional.”

The doctor looked at her quizzically. “Amy, I have worked in psychiatry for twenty years and have been a psychologist for over a decade, and in that time, I have developed the ability to read minds. I know that there is something you aren’t telling me, and I need to know what that is to deal with your problem effectively. Tell me, in your own time, exactly what happened to you,” said the doctor gently.

Amy was hesitant, she didn’t want to bring up the humping aspect, but it seemed like the doctor already knew and just wanted to hear her say it. She took a moment before starting.

“It… It humped me with its thing. The dog was erect, humping me the whole time, rubbing its thing against my privates through my tracksuit. I tried to shut my legs, but the dog was completely on top of me. I couldn’t do anything. It covered me in its – stuff – and I just lay there. It was so humiliating!” Amy managed to say, though tears were falling down her cheeks.

It was the first time she told anyone the story of what happened. Laura had returned with the tea and set it down before consoling the girl.

“It’s alright. Just let it out. You’re doing very well, Amy,” cooed Laura.

“You’ve been brave to confront the incident, Amy. It takes real courage to face your fears like this. Just know that this is the first step on a healing journey,” said the doctor.

Once Amy cried herself out, Laura left them to continue the consultation.

The doctor continued to question Amy and began to build a profile of who she was. She was a top student, constantly pushing herself to improve and do more. She got straight A’s and was a star athlete on her university gymnastics team. Even at eighteen, she was accomplished, with medals for her performance on the balance beam and floor exercises. She was outdoors often, which resulted in a light tan, impressive for anyone living under the gloomy weather of England, and had a notably athletic body. She stood around five-foot-one.

Her hair was a light auburn, tied into a bun atop her head, and she had green eyes with freckles dotting her cheeks below. She was energetic, disciplined, and agreeable, given her ability to work hard and follow orders. The doctor still believed there was more to Amy than she let on, but that would require a more careful series of questions.

“Now, there are only a few more questions I need to ask Amy. Please be as honest as possible,” Dr. Conseil led. “You are a virgin, correct?”

Amy’s face turned to shock. ‘How did he know that?’ she thought. The doctor looked at her for an answer and replied, “Yes, I am.” She blushed. ‘Maybe he really could read minds.’

“And given your inexperience, that Rottweiler that attacked you was the closest you’ve ever been to a sexual encounter?” he said pretty flatly.

Amy’s face turned completely red. “Excuse me?” she choked. “I don’t see the reason for asking that.”

“It is normal for sexual mishaps like these to happen, Amy. Really. But I will need you to try your best to remain calm and answer with complete honesty, no matter how embarrassing. You need to tell me so we can resolve the problem. Now, in your own words,” he said.

Amy was getting flustered. “Yes, that was the closest I’ve been to any penis, but that doesn’t count as sexual! It’s a dog, just some stupid animal,” she said, not wanting to look at him.

“Because you were so preoccupied with school and your extracurriculars, yes?” the doctor questioned.

Amy was quiet for a moment. “Partly,” she said flatly, still looking away.

“So, when you were being attacked, it forced you to address a part of you that you’ve never really explored before. I believe that there is something about the incident that you still refuse to acknowledge to me, maybe even to yourself. It’s okay to admit, my office is completely judgment-free, and believe me when I say I’ve heard a lot worse,” said the doctor.

“Like what?” Amy questioned. “Do you think I enjoyed it?”

“Did you? As I said, there is no shame in admitting it. Laura and I are not here to judge. We want to do whatever is necessary to curb your phobia and help you live your life. If anything, we are accepting of all sexual preferences and desires,” he reiterated.

Amy’s face went from red to white. “Of course, I didn’t like it! I’m not some pervert! How can I enjoy being humped by an animal? An animal that bit me! Were you even paying attention to anything I’ve said?” She gasped. Amy was getting ready to leave, confident that she wouldn’t be returning. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think this will work.”

“Forgive me for pressing, but before you go, I have some advice that may help you. Don’t let fear stand in the way of satisfaction. Face your phobia, and you will master it.”

She was already heading down the stairs in a huff.

“Whatever you’ve been too afraid to do recently, do it,” he called out, with the front door slamming shut.

The doctor slumped back into the red leather sofa, and Laura came behind him and massaged his shoulders.

“Always so stubborn at first, but they come around,” cooed Laura.

“I know. She reminds me of you, remember?” teased Conseil.

“I beg your pardon. I remember being a perfect patient, thank you very much,” said Laura, feigning upset.

“The best,” conceded the doctor. “She’ll call tomorrow.”

*****

Later that day, Amy had returned home, again through the convoluted route through a few bystreets and over her fence into the back garden. From there, she went to her room, still fuming. How dare that quack to talk to her like that? As if she would ever – could ever – get aroused by anything so grotesque. She knew what she felt that day: absolute fear. But something in the back of her mind did keep coming up. On the day of the attack, she had gone home to change out of her spoiled clothes, and she noticed a wet patch on her panties when she took them off.

At the time, she brushed it off as anything else. Maybe it was sweat, or she wet herself from the shock, but deep down, she knew. When the dog was pinning her down, licking her, humping her, she could feel something heavy brewing in her. Lust. God, how she wanted it to be untrue. How could she be so aroused by something that scared her so profoundly? It was so wrong she couldn’t make sense of it. It was as though her brain was afraid, and her body couldn’t help but respond to the sexual energy coming from the beast.

Dr. Conseil had brought up an uncomfortable question that repeated inside the confused girl’s head.

‘Did I enjoy it? Or did my body react strangely?’ Amy continued to ask herself this for another hour before resigning herself to not knowing. This wasn’t her area of expertise to untangle complex emotions and experiences like this. It had been a long, stressful day, and all she wanted to do now was to unwind.

Amy had spent over a month without an orgasm. She was too afraid. Ever since the attack, she had been unable to masturbate without thinking of that rottweiler on top of her. The thought of that canine cock flooded her mind whenever she touched herself: the red, fleshy, hard rod rubbing against her crotch with abandon. Everything in her consciousness told her such thoughts were disgusting, perverted, and immoral, and they made her heart fill with fear, shame, and regret.

However, though she didn’t want to admit it, there was a certain allure from these thoughts that electrified her entire body. It was just so… taboo. Despite her every thought and fear that it was wrong, or maybe because of them, her body couldn’t help but get excited. She then thought back to the last thing Dr. Conseil had said before she left:

Whatever you’ve been too afraid to do recently, do it!

There was no way Dr. Conseil meant it like this. But it was something she’d been putting off. She hadn’t been able to cum in over a month and was desperate for release. But to get herself off on such degrading thoughts? To masturbate thinking about dogs? Why was she even considering this at all? After some debating, Amy decided to at least try masturbating if it meant getting a good night’s sleep. After all, it was just some harmless sexual experimentation, and she could stop if things became too much. With that, she lay in bed with her hand down her waistband.

Initially, she kept her thoughts human-focused, but like her many other attempts, they soon devolved back to the same scene. She, on her back, pinned to the ground beneath a rottweiler twice her size. She felt the strong urge to stop what she was doing, but this time followed the all too familiar whisper, daring her to keep going. She felt a sickness in her stomach and a prick of devilish pleasure as she thought back to the dog’s cock, large, red, and hard with its distinctly inhuman shape. The pointed end widens at the shaft before stopping at a large bulbous base. She could practically feel it as she rubbed between her pussy lips.

She thought about the shape and how it might feel in her hand. As if possessed, her fingers moved of their own volition, and she felt herself succumb to the pleasure she had so desperately been suppressing for weeks. In an odd mix of delight and disgust, Amy felt a long-awaited orgasm hit her. Pangs of bittersweet pleasure flowed over her, sending her into shocks more intense than she’d ever felt. It was everything she could do not to scream from the bliss she felt. Her orgasm subsided too soon, and she was quickly back to masturbating again to another climax. Followed by another. Each time she found her mind wandering back to dogs, which both frightened and revolted her, her body responded with frenzy.

Once she had gotten her fill, Amy felt a rising shame. Without the physical element, she was left to stew in her post-orgasmic dysphoria. She was in a puddle of her juices, her thighs slick and sticky. How could her anxiety around dogs feed into such pleasure? She felt like some criminal pervert and was ashamed of how quickly she forgot her morals at the moment. She hadn’t changed, the thought of going near a dog still struck fear into her, but at least now she could cum, albeit shamefully and disgustingly. It was still something. Perhaps she was too dismissive of Dr. Conseil’s methods. After only one meeting, he made more progress than any other professional did in weeks. It seemed an apology was in order, and she would need to call him tomorrow.

 

To Be Continued…?

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*This story has been edited to fix spelling, formatting errors, punctuation, & basic grammar, but the narrative and plot have remained the same. Even with the limited editing done here, it doesn’t always mean the narrative/plot flaws in a story are fixed (That’s the author’s job). The opinions/views expressed in this story (and in any comments) are those of the author and do not represent this site. We support freedom of speech. This story has been previously published on other free sites and is now public domain, which is why we can publish it here.

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