Nymphomaniacal (for MadameNyx)

Jim Nixon looked at his watch, as he sat in his office. He was a therapist. True, he didn't have many clients, but he had always had an exceptional way of helping people get over their problems. Listening always helped people out. So it was the natural choice for his career. He had a woman bringing in her 19 year old daughter for her first therapy session that day. Apparently, the young woman had an issue her mother didn't want to go into over the phone. He brushed his brown hair out of his eyes, and looked up at the clock on the wall, then out the window of his office as he waited.

He hadn't been given much information to go on. The young woman was a blonde bunnygirl, a Catholic, who had been getting in unspecified trouble at her college. Her mother had tried everything, and now was hoping he could help her out. Jim stretched, adjusting his glasses as he watched the traffic outside. A black sedan pulled up in front of the building, and two women got out. The older was clearly the mother, and the younger must be his patient, he thought, as he looked at them. He studied the figure of his patient, trying to read what he could from visual cues. She was fairly tall. Blonde hair, blue eyes. A rather impressive bustline. She was dressed, however, in a Catholic schoolgirl outfit. Or rather, the remains of one.

The skirt was intact, but shortened considerably. With it, she wore a midriff-bearing pink top, and white thigh highs. Two large gold hoop earrings hung from her ears. She wore a purse over one shoulder, and walked with a clearly intentional sway in her step. Even more amusing was the fact that she clearly wore no bra under the shirt, and the skirt was short enough to show off her panties with every step. Jim frowned, and turned to his desk. As the secretary showed the two into the waiting room, Jim wrote down a preliminary diagnosis based on what he observed of her entrance.

Mishi sighed as she followed her mother out of the car. Really, couldn't she give up already? It wasn't like she was hurting anyone, quite the contrary, she made her professors and fellow students' day even more fun. She should get thanks for that, not scolded and being dragged around to a therapist. Once inside the building, she was offered a seat and, knowing the look her mom had, knew she was going to get a lecture. If only the woman got some dick in her, she was sure she would stop being so uptight.

"Michelle," her mother started. The teen groaned. Her mother was the only one to call her by her name, everyone else just used the short version. The busty bunny girl simply tuned out the boring voice as she looked down at herself and frowned. The skirt was short enough and the top was sexy enough, setting off the light cream color of her fur, but maybe she should change her style a little. Something more daring, maybe? That would throw her mother for a fit. Brushing her hand along her hair, she frowned at it too. Maybe she would go a little punk rock and dye her hair to boot. She never did like being a blonde.

Mommy Dearest didn't understand. Was it really so bad that she craved sex more than a couple of times a day? Really, if not for that, she probably would have a lot of stress and whatnot. Just like her. It's like she has a stick up her ass she thought to herself as she crossed her arms under her ample breasts and waited patiently.

Jim looked at his watch, counting down the seconds until the appointment time as he continued taking notes. At precisely the time of the appointment, he set his pen down, and thumbed the intercom. The voice on the other end, belonging to a redheaded vulpine woman, responded almost hesitantly. Jim smiled at that. It always unnerved the young secretary when he buzzed her at the exact moment she was reaching for the phone to his office.

"Yes, sir?" Jim smiled wider. "I believe my four-thirty is here. Please show her in, and be sure to have the mother fill out the usual paperwork." The hesitation in the voice again. "Y...Yes sir."

In the waiting room, the secretary stood up, and stepped away from the desk, walking over to the bunny duo. She handed the older woman a clipboard, then turned to the younger woman. "Right this way, please. Mister Nixon will see you now."

Jim did nothing more than pick up his pen again, along with his notebook. He waited until they had time to get to the door, and then opened it on them. Another thing that got the vixen secretary flustered. She clearly wondered how he knew when to open the door.

When he spoke, it was with a soft voice, and a sober tone. "Miss Michelle Brandy? This way please. Have a seat in the chair or on the couch. Whichever is more comfortable." He waited for her to walk in, and then closed the door. He followed her to her choice of seating, still taking notes on her mannerisms and such. Then he took a seat in a big comfy armchair across from her.

"So then, Miss Brandy. Or would you rather I call you something else? Your mother seems to believe you have a problem. Would you like to talk about it?"

Hearing the secretary call her, Mishi gave her mother a last look before she sighed and quietly followed the vulpine lady towards the office. As she did, she couldn't help but admire the curves on the fox discreetly, stifling a shiver that made her nipples harden. She lifted her eyes just in time to see a human man open the door.

Hmm that's surprising, she thought to herself, I've never seen a human male up close before... Hmm up close can mean so many interesting things. That last thought almost made her giggle as she made her way towards the big couch, making sure to put an extra swing to her hips so he could get a good look at her 'innocent' white panties. Settling there, she studied his features for a moment, deciding he was very handsome in a geeky sort of way, before she sighed. Here we go again. Same 'I'll be you friend and help you' routine.

"Actually, I prefer Mishi. No one calls me Michelle, except for my mother. As for what my mother considers the problem, well, basically I'm not the innocent little Christian girl she wants me to be and I like to have sex. A lot." she said mater-of-factly, almost nonchalantly. She watched him quietly for his reaction, wondering if he was used to his patients being so forward with their 'problems'.

The sigh brought about a frown upon Jim's features. The frown was gone almost immediately, however, as the young blonde spoke her piece. He said nothing at first, quietly writing down more of his notes. In big, bold letters under Diagnosis in his notebook, he wrote Nymphomania. As secondary diagnoses, he wrote down several other things, including defiance.

When he finally spoke, it was with an almost bored tone, which was intentionally affected. "So she thinks you need to be a good little girl, and you think she needs to get stuffed like a Thansgiving turkey, that about cover it? And because of that, you feel you have to go out of your way to defy her will, dressing as sluttily as possible and so on?"

He acted like he'd heard pretty much identical words a million times before. It was a tactic he'd developed to get hostile patients to go into further details on their problems, to talk about what they worried about, and so on. It didn't work on everyone, of course. Some patients got belligerent and angry over it. But he was a pretty good judge of character, and he had a feeling it would get this young blonde to start figuring out her own problems, or at least putting them into words.

"More or less. Though I actually do follow most of her rules and instructions. The way I dress is just the way I want to dress. It has nothing to do with her." the blonde replied before brushing a finger along a stray bang, almost showing it to him "I'm thinking of going more punkish, probably dyeing my hair black... Or some other crazy color."

Mishi allowed her eyes to slowly take him in, a sultry smile on her face. She was clearly checking him out and, by the way her eyes twinkled with a mischievous light and the way she bit her lower lip seductively, she clearly liked what she saw. "You know, you're a very handsome guy. I've never had the... Pleasure, of being with a human. Neither female or male."

Jim wrote some more in the notebook at that exchange, noting the direction of the conversation and his analysis of it. He tilted his head at the quite obvious flirtation she attempted, and simply shrugged in response. When he spoke, it was with affected disinterest. "I'd imagine it would be about the same as any other species. Thank you for the compliment though. We're not here to talk about me, however. We're here to talk about you. Have you ever considered talking to your mother about it? I'm sure you're not the first to experience such feelings or emotions. Maybe she has some tips on how to curb your...appetites, as it were."

It was obvious that she was used to getting what she wanted through sex. Breaking her of that would prove difficult, he thought, as he continued taking notes on their conversation. He did have to admit, she was attractive. But she was also his patient, and he had more self control than some of the other doctors he'd heard of.

"My pleasure." the bunny replied as she tilted her head in salute. Deciding that she better actually try with this one, she laid across the sofa, making sure she didn't flash him her panties. She was trying to behave, after all. Arranging her hair so it laid in a blond halo around her head, she closed her eyes and tried to put everything into words.

"I have tried. I don't have sex out of spite, or to bother her. It's just what my body craves." taking a breath, she continued "Other than that, I try to be what she wants of a daughter. I get good grades, I'm majoring in traduction and languages, which is a pretty good job. I even manage to keep my hands to myself when she orders me to go to these silly 'meet and greets' with her friends or guys she thinks will 'set me straight' if they just marry me. Heck, I don't even tell her that I fell like a prize cow she's auctioning off to the best suitor."

She stoped then and laughed, running a hand through her hair. "See? I'm even telling you everything without complaint, even though it makes me feel vulnerable." Turning to look at him with her blue eyes, giving him a sad smile. "I don't hurt anyone. I don't have sex with minors, or make anyone have sex with me if they don't want to. Is it really that bad that vibes don't do it for me, and that I need to have sex more often than normal?"

"I just want my mother to stop hacking at me about it."

Jim quickly made a few sketches, having ceased taking notes early on. As she asked him her last quesiton, he raised an eyebrow. Then he turned the notebook to show her the sketch inspired by her last statement. Then he shrugged, setting the notepad down and regarding her for a moment. "Do you have to use different partners? After all, a slut can still be monogamous, unlike a whore. Maybe you should explain the difference to your mother. Or you could take steps to keep your mother from finding out about your...trysts."

He shrugged again, looking at his watch, then at her again. "Of course, you could also have yourself hypnotized, or learn to control your urges. After all, look at what humans accomplish. The Tantra teaches one to prolong a single orgasm so that it lasts all day, or even all week. And are you taking precautions, at least?"

"I've tried that. Eventually they tell me they can't keep up, I'll dislocate a hip or something." she replied a little exhasperated. Taking a moment to keep her temper in check, she frowned at his drawing, not really sure what she was seeing. Shrugging herself, she continued ina soft voice "Yes. At first, since I only had sex with people I knew were virgins, I only used the pill. After that, I started using condoms, as much as I hate the feeling."

"I'm a slut, not a whore. I don't sell my body." she replied calmly before leaning forwards and placing a hand on his arm to get his attention. Her eyes were ernest as she said "I'm willing to try whatever treatment you want, but please don't make me tell a random stranger everything and dont leave me alone with one. That's all I ask."

Jim raised an eyebrow, looking at the young bunnygirl. She certainly was trying hard, he thought, as he took more notes. He'd have to file everything later, of course, but they were just about out of time. He made a few notes about what to ask her next time, and stood up slowly. "Well, Miss Brandy, I believe your hour is up, so to speak. Let's get you back to your mother and schedule you for, oh...Same time next week? How does that sound?"

He waited for her response as he walked to the office door and opened it.

"Sure..." Mishi replied in a monotone voice as she carefully sat up, brushing the short skirt over her thighs. Maybe it was time she started using some pants. After all, if she wanted to tease someone she could always take them off, flash her underwear (or lack there-of) or just wear real tight ones. Running her fingers through her blonde locks, she stood and walked to the door. Seeing her mother waiting by the door and knowing that she would barrage her with questions, she took a deep breath, almost to prepare herself, before she stepped out of the office.

No sooner had she gone half way towards the office door that her mother asked stuff like 'Does he now whats wrong with you?', 'Can he cure it?', etc. Giving him a look over her shoulder as if to say 'See what I mean?', she flashed him a tired smile and said in a soft voice "See you next week, Doc." With that, she was gone.

Jim raised an eyebrow at the almost immediate barrage the young woman underwent. Then he shrugged, as if to say 'sucks to be you'. He waited until they were out the door before turning to his secretary, and giving her instructions to schedule them for an appointment at the same time the following week. After that, he went back into the office, and started actually creating the case file, using the notes he took and the young woman's existing records. It was long hours before he was finished with the work, but when he was, he slid the file into his cabinet, and saved the digital copy on his computer.

After that, he sat at his desk in his office, pondering the young bunnygirl and what could be done for her. After a while, he started to do some research on nymphomania and past attempts to cure or abate it. After a few hours of research, he realized that the prospects of curing it were grim. He also realized it might not necessarily be a good idea to try curing it. Though he did believe he could help her learn to control her urges. He just had to figure out how to go about it.

Come the next week, Mishi managed to ditch the escort, meaning her mother, and sat quietly waiting for it to be her turn. She was dressed much more normally in a dark blue pair of jeans, with some stylish holes in them, and a dark purple corset-style top that made her breasts look even bigger. She figured the pants were a start. Her once blonde locks were now mixed with candy apple red, the hair brushing along her shoulders and lower back as she waited patiently.

Jim had spent much of the week researching techniques for treating the symptoms of nymphomania and a host of related disorders. When it came time for their next appointment, Jim was a little surprised to find that his patient had arrived without her mother. He pondered that for a few moments, as he was dismissing the last of his other patients for the day, then motioned her into the office.

He pulled out her file before he sat down at the seat across from her, and waited for her to get situated. When he finally spoke, it was quietly and introspectively. "Let's see. Last time we were here, we were discussing your...desires, were we not? Would you care to continue that conversation, or do you have anything else you feel you want to share first?"

"Apart from mentioning that I have dreams about having sex, not really much else to add." The bunny replied as she laid across the sofa, much like she had te first time she had been there. She bit her lower lip, her fingers fiddling with the charm on the think necklace she wore before she asked her next question in a very soft voice.

"Did you find anything that could help me?"

Jim raised an eyebrow, making a note of that. Then he considered her question for a few moments. It was with a shrug that he responded. "In verity, most of the proposed treatments for Nymphomania, the condition you seem to have, come right out of the bible. And their solutions to anything involving human nature was stoning and the like." He shook his head.

"They treat it like a disease, and it's not. It's simply a state of heightened sexuality. It's not even a medical or psychological condition, really. It's just a person needing sex. You could almost describe it as a heat cycle. As such, I would imagine that you feel this need stronger at certain times of the month, yes?"

Mishi bit her lip and nodded, turning to lay on her tummy on the sofa, holding the cushion to her chest "Usually I get out of control when I'm ovulating. I don't go to class then unless I have a test, try to stay home as much as possible. It takes me almost the whole day masturbating constantly to stay put...."

Laying her head on the cushion, she watched him quietly, her eyes taking in the way he dressed and was sitting. It was't an overly sexual look, she was just watching him with a bit of curiosity, wondering what he would say next.

Jim nodded slowly, writing some more in his notebook and her file. He also made a note to brush up on his biology for her particular breed. Out of sheer medical curiosity, he decided to ask her about techniques she employed. "And how do you normally go about masturbation. Is there any particular trick you use that...for lack of a better expression, is a TKO? Or any thoughts you have that increase the thrill?"

Knowing what she did, he reasoned, might help him come up with potential suggestions for her. It had absolutely nothing to do with her being a horny bunny and nothing to do with any physical attraction to her, he told himself.

The bunny thought carefully on his question. After some minutes, she closed her eyes and relaxed as if she was home. Her hands lightly traveled down her body before resting on her thighs before she spoke. "I start laying like this, naked on my bed. I usually have a towel underneath me and another close by for when that one gets too wet. Also a clit tickler, a dildo and fresh batteries to replace when I need it."

"I usually lay a certain way: With my legs spread, in a diamond shape, resting fully on the bed. I start teasing myself with the clit tickler first." she said in a soft voice before continuing "Sometimes I watch porn, or read sex stories. Other times I just let my imagination do the work. When I feel empty, I use the dildo."

Jim raised an eyebrow, watching as the relaxed. It gave her a more at ease manner. Hopefully that meant they were making progress, he thought. He made notes of anything that he felt might seem important to her case, and then tilted his head, regarding her. At her mention of watching porn or reading sex stories, he considered whether or not he should have her expound. When he spoke, it was in that same, relatively quiet manner.

"Are there any particular type of movies or stories that are....more exciting to you than others? Or any particular people you like to envision? Have you ever considered adding a lubricant that heightens sensitivity? And have you thought of moving out of your mother's place, if she's the only one you know who has a major problem with your nymphomania?"

"Not particularly. It depends on what I want to read or watch at that particular moment. It could be anything from lesbian threesomes to hentai. Same with the people and situations I envision." Mishi replied before closing her legs and laying straight once more on the sofa, her eyes still closed as she relaxed. "As for the lubricants, I've tried some. They're sort of uncomfortable for me. I think I maybe sensitive to some of the contents, just like condoms."

His question about her mother made her laugh dryly "I'm afraid she just won't let me go. I have no idea why... Before I came here, I was actually considering looking for a treatment center or something that would allow me to stay there, that way it would be kind of moving out."

Jim shook his head at the mention of a potential allergy to lubricants. The likelihood of that was rather small. He continued taking notes as he listened, then tilted his head in thought at her comment about her mother and the possibility of a treatment center. His pen tapped on the notepad for a few seconds, before he spoke. "I'm pretty sure you can't get into a treatment center for that, sadly. But you are of age now. You could get your own place. You don't HAVE to live with your mother, you know. Surely you have friends you could be staying with."

He waited for her response, turning to a fresh sheet in the notepad and writing down possible courses of action as he thought.

She laughed humorlessly at his last words. "Friends? What girl would want to be friends with a girl that is perpetually horny? Not to mention having her boyfriend close to such a person? She might decide to hump him.... and guy friends, well.... Guys are always thinking about sex no? Somehow said friends always end up tangled around me, if you know what I mean? So that really wouldn't help."

"As for getting my own place... I'm nineteen. Even if I use some of the money my dad left over, there would be n one in that house to help me control myself."

Jim raised an eyebrow, and shook his head. He considered her issues, and tapped at the pad thoughtfully. Then he shrugged again, before speaking. "Well, if you had a boyfriend, you could move in with him. Or a girl you know who is bi and doesn't mind sharing with you. Not sure what else I could suggest, at this point. One thing's certain, your mother seems a bit...high strung."

He shrugged again, then looked at his watch. He stood up slowly. "Well, our hour is just about up. Same time next week? Or would you like to schedule for a different time?"

He had to admit, her problem had him stumped so far. Nothing he could think of would work, really. He was about ready to suggest she start making regular appointments with a gigolo or something.