Ruth's Therapy - S01 E06

Story 4 days ago

Ruth's Therapy - S01 E06

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 6

Cynthia liked the sound of that and started to finger-fuck the older woman, resuming her stream of abuse.

"Take it bitch. Cum like a dog. Let that big cock fuck your dirty, married cunt. Yeah, he's mounting you like the bitch you really are."

As Cynthia expected, it worked. She jammed her fingers hard into the older woman's cunt as the video kept looping around. Ruth was unable to control herself, despite the shock of being touched sexually by another woman. She'd always assumed it was "wrong" and "dirty". But Cynthia knew just how to touch a woman. Ruth felt a third and fourth orgasm smash through her body and she surrendered to Cyn and her first ever taste of multiple orgasms. She lost control of her body, wailing at the most tremendous release she had ever experienced. And it was only when the older woman collapsed to the floor that Cynthia let her be. The therapy was over for that day.

Ruth felt shame anew.

"I've never ...well, how disgusting..."

The truth was that making love to her husband had never delivered more than a single climax. That was all she'd ever expected. Ruth just did not know how to process the idea she'd had multiple orgasms -- and at the hand of a woman.

Cynthia watched as the older woman recovered from her climax. She enjoyed the sight of those big tits heaving. She was small busted herself but she knew why men generally preferred larger tits. Cyn already had plans for those. But there was something else she had to take care of right now.

Cynthia fetched a large metal bowl and, with a bang, put it on the floor in front of Ruth.

"Piss in that," she ordered the older woman.

Ruth could not believe what she was hearing. Cynthia repeated the instruction.

"Piss in that. I know you'll need to relieve yourself before you go. You will squat and piss in that bowl."

Naturally, Ruth protested. She could not possibly do anything so horrible. But she was too afraid of Cynthia to do anything else. Of course, her tormentor was insistent. The older woman slowly, dutifully took up position. Nothing happened but she stayed in position. Ruth knew her bladder was full and she would have loved to empty it but not like this. Was there no limit to the degradations this young woman could impose on her?

Finally, Cynthia could wait no more. With a groan of exasperation, Cyn moved the bowl and squatted above it herself.

"Its not hard," she said sternly.

Ruth could only watch in amazement as Cynthia parted her knees and released her own pee. It was a hot and golden stream that came through the flimsy G-string and splashed loudly into the metal bowl. Ruth felt disgust and wonder that the younger woman could do something so brazen and, seemingly, enjoy it. The bowl was pushed back under Ruth.

"Piss for me now bitch, or you won't be leaving here."

But that was not the worst, for Cynthia had a particularly nasty streak to her. As Ruth squatted, hoping for her body to co-operate, Cynthia removed her piss-stained thong. Without a word she forced Ruth to open her mouth and stuffed the stinking article inside. The thin material had been next to another woman's crotch and it was damp with a disgusting smell. Poor Ruth thought it the most awful act, wondering if she might vomit in response.

She almost expected another tear but knew better than to argue. Still eager to please Cynthia, she was trying to force her bladder to release her urine. Perhaps Cynthia was right and she truly was a "sick little bitch". At last, needing to pee and desperate to please, Ruth made a tiny tinkle of her own in the metal bowl. It was as much as she could produce under the circumstances.

"That's better," came her reward from Cynthia. "See, it was not so hard after all. You've been a good bitch today. You can get dressed."

Cynthia slashed at the older woman's butt with her crop, winning a cry of pain. The blow was not part of the therapy -- Cyn thought of is more as her "tip" for the pleasure she'd administered. It was a nice arse that begged to be spanked.

It was only when Cynthia removed the collar and leash that Ruth had an inkling of how important they were. How those simple items had helped her to accept the things Cynthia had done. Without the collar Ruth suddenly felt even more naked. She did not understand why, of course. But there was no point asking the younger woman about that. She dragged her clothes on in silence.

"You've got a nice, healthy bush there," said Cynthia.

She was pointing at the older woman's cunt. Ruth didn't know what to say. It was the first nice thing she'd heard from Cynthia.

"Is that... alright?" Ruth wanted to know.

As it happened, Cynthia had once been rather bushy herself "down there" but now was smooth-shaven at all times.

"I expect it trimmed next time. Much better that way."

Ruth left with her head full of questions. What had she gotten herself into? How could a doctor prescribe such perverted, disgusting acts as therapy? Why was she allowing herself to be treated this way? Why did other people not find her sexual fantasies as repugnant as she did? What did Cynthia mean about "next time"?

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