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The pair sat in silence as the doctor jotted down some preliminary thoughts in his notepad. This gave Jake time to examine the middle aged man in detail. Dr. Bastion was a massive bison whose wide shoulders and thick chest seemed to barely fit in his buttoned up plaid shirt. The man wore glasses which his intelligent eyes peered through as he wrote with his mechanical pencil. Jake knew from their earlier encounter that the bison had deep voice but welcoming demeanor and candid smile. If forced to guess, the wolf would say Dr. Bastion was in his early to mid forties, but it was difficult to say for certain.

A couple minutes later the bison nodded to himself as looked up, nodding in small apology with his horns and head.

"Sorry about that, Jake. I just had some notes from my last session that I had to finalize before they slipped my mind. The brain is an amazing organ, but a lockbox it is not. Don't worry, I won't be charging you for this time. Now, what's on your mind?"

This had been the part that wolf had been dreading. Ever since this condition had inexplicably manifested a couple months back, he'd never vocalized it or discussed it with anyone. And now he'd have to this older man his most intimate sexual problems. That or walk out. But Jake had already grudgingly accepted this didn't look like something he'd be able to just power through or ignore. He knew because he'd been trying both of those techniques for weeks now.

"Well... it's really sort of embarrassing, to be honest," the wolf hedged, avoiding the bison's kindly gaze.

The doctor nodded at this and said, "That's a very common feeling, Jake. Perfectly normal. In our society, sex and sexuality are some of the most taboo subjects to discuss. I just ask that you give me a chance. Just take your time and don't worry. Anything you say here will remain between you and me."

Jake took a deep breath. That made him feel a little better. At least a tiny bit, anyway.

"It started, I guess eight or nine weeks back? At first it was barely noticeable. It was just this sense that something was off whenever I'd jerk off. I just ignored it at first, tried to think about other things. The usual stuff I guess. Girls. Breasts. Blowjobs. Those sorts of things."

Jake shuffled his feet on the floor's shallow carpet. Fuck, he hated talking about this kind of stuff out loud. Though it helped a bit that Dr. Bastion was a stranger. The wolf looked up and saw that the bison was still listening, his posture attentive but unhurried, patiently waiting for him to continue.

"It got a bit worse soon after that, but I still tried to ignore it. I figured it'd just go away on its own. But it didn't. It got worse. Way, way worse. I don't really know how to describe it. Anxiety? Guilt? Either way, something deep within me was telling me that this was wrong. Jerking off. Umm, mastrubating, I mean. And now, whenever I try to... masturbate, I feel just awful. Ashamed. Embarrassed. Super guilty. I've caught myself apologizing outloud, to an empty room. How crazy is that? Stroking off on my couch, panting, whimpering apologies to no one. It's just... insane!"

Without looking down the bison flipped the page and penciled a few quick notes to himself. Then he considered a moment and responded with, "You're not crazy, Jake. Nor are you insane. No more than anyone else who has a functioning subconscious, to include myself and every other sentient person. And based on your description, it seems likely that that is exactly what we are dealing with here. Your subconscious. But I'd like to ask some questions to get a better sense of the particulars. That could help a great deal in coming up with some recommendations for you. Would that be okay?"

Deeply relieved to see that the doctor wasn't disgusted or dismissive, Jake eagerly nodded. He'd do almost anything to get some relief from this mysterious affliction.

"You mentioned that you 'try' to masturbate. Have you found that you are not able to consistently achieve climax during manual stimulation?"

The wolf had been dreading this part. No matter how understanding the doctor was, some things were just hard to talk about.

Cringing, Jake looked at his folded hands and said, "It's... difficult. The closer I get to cumming, the more guilty I feel. Logically, I know what I'm doing is perfectly normal. I'm in my early twenties, I've been getting myself off for years, yeah? But it FEELS wrong. Like, way, way wrong. As if I'm a kid again and I just got caught with my hand in the cookie jar before dinner. The feeling... these waves of guilty. It's really hard to describe in a way that you'd understand. Imagine if you were in elementary school and your principle, priest, and mom all walked in on you playing with yourself. At the same time. That's sort of how it feels. And the feeling gets worse the closer I get. If I'm determined, I can power through it and get relief."

The bison nodded at this, as though he were beginning to understand. The older man scribbled a couple new lines on his pad.

"And what happens if you give in to these feelings of guilt and cease masturbating? Do these feelings persist?"

The wolf shook his head.

"Only for a few minutes and then they fade to nothing and I feel perfectly normal. Except, you know, super horny. But if I so much as rub a finger down my dick the guilt starts to come right back."

Dr. Bastion palmed his chin thoughtfully and replied, "I see, I see. This is great information. Thank you, Jake. And these feelings, do they manifest when you become spontaneously erect?"

Starting to loosen up the wolf leaned forward in his chair and exclaimed, "That's the crazy thing! I can throw all the wood I want and even watch porn! No issue at all. But the moment I try to touch myself, this intense shame rolls over me. Not to sound schizophrenic, but it's as though I'm mega disappointed in myself."

"Disappointed? How so? Could you elaborate on that aspect for me?" the bison inquired.

"Like... I'm pissed at my own weakness, yeah? Giving in just because some perky breasts are in front of me. It feels sort of pathetic. Like I should be able to stay strong and resist the temptation. Just because my boy-clit got hard doesn't mean I have permission to touch myself."

Raising an eyebrow in mild surprise the bison asked, "I'm sorry, did you say 'boy-clit'?"

"Huh?" Jake said, not understanding the question. "Boy-clit? What the hell is a boy-clit? Sorry, doctor, but I think you misheard. I'll try not to mumble."

Softly and to himself, Dr. Bastion murmured, "Interesting. Very interesting," as he wrote. Louder he spoke, "Continuing in this area of discussion, I take it that you've found abstinence to not be an appropriate long term solution?"

"What, you mean give up sex? Like altogether?" the wolf replied incredulously. "I'm twenty two, doc. Not to be crude, but I there's a lot of pretty girls I still plan on banging. Sure, I've gone a few days without jerking off because I don't want to hassle with all that guilt shit. But I'm a pretty naturally horny guy. Eventually I give in and just deal with it. But..."

"Yes? Please continue. At this point in our conversation any detail may be potentially relevant."

"It's just that... it's been taking longer and longer. To climax, I mean. Used to be, five or ten minutes in the shower would take care of things, no prob. But two months into this thing, whatever it is, it takes me half an hour of steady pounding just to start getting close to orgasm. And the whole time I'm fighting back the urge to apologize. Sometimes I'll stuff a towel in my mouth. That seems to help. A little, at least. And when I do finally shoot, by that time I'm a sweaty, whimpering mess."

"And the orgasm itself?" the bison followed up. "How do these typically feel?"

"Fucking amazing," the young patient volunteer. "For a blissful moment I'm able to block out the horrible guilt and just unload. Biggest cumshots you've ever seen. Doesn't hurt that I've been pent up a few days by that point. But as good as cumming feels... the guilt afterwards. Hoo-boy. You'd think I'd gotten caught looking at porn on my work computer. That's how bad it is."

"Another intriguing detail. So to clarify, these feelings of guilt abate if you cease masturbation prior to climax, but if you persist they continue on past the point of stimulation?"

"Yeah, man. Fucking bizzare, right? If I cum, I feel like a completely worthless piece of garbage for the rest of the day afterwards. The only thing that seems to help is going down the gym. Two hours and a full body workout and I'll have completely recovered. Almost completely, anyway. I guess I work all those negative chemicals out of my body or something."

"You do seem quite fit, Jake. Even for your age. Do you visit the gym often?"

The wolf nodded.

"More so recently since this all began, but yeah, I suppose. There's some smoking hot ladies there, too. Plenty of them are looking to hook up, too. Which is rad. Though... I've been having to turn them down. My last attempt didn't work out so great... I don't have to talk about that, do I?"

His voice full of empathy and understanding Dr. Bastion said, "It's entirely your choice, Jake. But if this is any way related to your condition, I feel that us talking about it is probably best. Perhaps you could start by describing the woman?"

"Yeah, I could do that. She was one hot mama. A white fox, bit older than me but probably not thirty yet. We'd been flirting back at forth for a few months. Nothing serious. A compliment here, a wink there. I'd of normally taken the hint and sealed the deal but... with my condition. So eventually she approached me, batting those gorgeous eyes lashes. I almost turned her down. I should have. But fuck me, I was so horny. It'd been a week since I last jerked off and I probably wasn't thinking straight. And besides, I felt perfectly normal. Plus, I told myself that even if I did end up feeling guilty, she'd have no idea as long as I didn't do anything weird."

"Like suddenly apologizing?" the bison volunteer.

"Yeah... like that," Jake grumbled. "Anyway, so she and I sneak off to this storage room. They keep it unlocked because it's out of the way and the equipment in there is too heavy to sneak out the front door with all the cameras. I suspect that the owner knows people bang in there, but leaves it open so customers don't fuck in the bathrooms. That's just a theory, though. So she and I go the back and we're making out, yeah? Things are going great. She's hot and into it. We're kissing, and I'm throwing wood. Everything is perfectly normal so far."

As his patient speaks, the bison dutifully continues to record potentially relevant details in his therapeutic journal, nodding attentively as he does so.

"She whispers in my ear that she's going to rock my world and I'm already about to pop. My balls feel like they are the size of plumbs, man. Oranges, even. I NEED to fuck this babe. She slides her hand down my stomach and into my shorts, takes me in hand, gives it a nice squeeze and... that's when I feel it. Rolling in like the evening tide, those awful waves of guilt."

Dr. Bastion wrote faster then, intent on keeping up with the rapid pace of the story.

"She's still talking dirty in my ear, but I'm not listening. All my focus is centered between my legs because it's a worst case situation down there. The girl hasn't noticed yet, but I'm going soft in a hurry. I try and keep it up through willpower alone but it's no good. Doesn't take her long to notice. Anyone would have. One moment she had a steel beam in her hand and the next, a limp noodle."

The bison interjected here, seeking to confirm his understanding of the situation.

"Permit me to review something, if you would. During manual stimulation you have not encountered a situation where you failed to maintain an erection, but during an encounter with a potential sexual partner, this arose as a new issue?"

The wolf sighed and said, "Basically, yeah. I won't get into all the profoundly embarrassing details, but apparently she wanted it just as much as I did because she wasn't initially put off. Before I could think of an excuse to bail she had my shorts down around my ankles and was going down on me. A real trooper, too. She was moaning, eyes closed, moving her lips and tongue all over my limp dick. It was amazing... and terrible. The guilt was just pouring down on me, like I was standing under a waterfall. As if... deep inside I knew how pathetic I was for trying to convince myself that useless dicklet was capable of satisfying someone. I had to bite my tongue to stop myself from telling her how sorry I was. I hated myself for even making the attempt. This was a thousand times worse than trying to jerk off in the privacy of my own home."

"And then?" the therapist asked, careful to maintain a tone of professional interest.

"Things didn't work out, let's leave at that. She was disappointed and she had every right to be. She left and I went home. I jerked off, this time unable to stop myself from apologizing over and over. 'Sorry, sorry, sorry! I'm sorry sorry, daddy! I didn't mean to! I'm so sorry!' On fucking repeat, man. So I guess that's why I'm here. I want my sex life back. Think you can help, doc?"

The wolf's voice was almost pleading.

The large bison considered the story for a long moment and then replied, "I'm optimistic that treatment will yield positive, meaningful results. And I can assure you that you made the right decision in contacting me. But let's go back to something, for just a moment. Did you say you were apologizing to your 'daddy'?"

Jake shrugged. "When I give in and start apologizing, all kinds of random shit comes out of my mouth. I didn't figure any of it actually meant much. Some of the nonsense is even contradictory. One day I'm apologizing for having such a tiny penis, the next I'm sorry for having such a big, veiny monster. I don't even know my dad, so I'm not sure why I'd be begging him to spank me."

"Spank you?", tapping his pencil across his other hand's knuckles. "That's unique, Jake. It doesn't fit the pattern you've outlined so far."

The patient scowled softly as he considered that.

"How so?" he asked, not seeing the connection.

"As you've explained, in all your other reflexive expressions for remorse you were apologizing for your perceived inadequacies. But here we have an example of a time where you solicited a specific action be taken. A spanking. A act typically administered to naughty children by their father or another authority figure as a form of recompense. Redemption. Restitution."

"I don't follow," the wolf said, trying to puzzle out the doctor's meaning.

"This is currently just a theory, but this reflexive apologizing could be your unsettled, agitated subconscious speaking out. It's clear to me that deep unresolved feelings of guilt reside within you. Since they weren't addressed in a healthy way, these feelings are manifesting themselves in a destructive manner. Put another way: You feel guilty about something and are desperate to balance the scales. Your subconscious mind, immature by its very nature, craves a spanking. Like a youth who can't stop apologizing to his or her daddy for breaking the living room lamp."

Looking distinctly uncomfortable the wolf exclaimed, "Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold up a minute. That's one hell of a stretch, doctor. I once mentioned getting spank in a random string of mid-climatic gibberish and you're convinced what I really want is to get my ass paddled?"

"As I said, it's just a theory," Dr. Bastion counseled in his most reasonable voice. "I assure you, no therapeutic regimen will be undertaken without your express consent. Let's set that aside for now and circle back to it later as one potential option. For now, why don't you tell me more about your father."

The wolf fidgeted, clearly unhappy to discuss the topic. "Like I said, never met him. Don't know him. Never will know him."

"And why is that, Jake?"

"I got a letter in the mail saying he died. Three or four months back maybe."

The bison, seeing that his patient was unwilling to connect the dots himself, offered up, "So, if I understand the timeline correctly, you learned of his passing just prior to this issue manifesting?"

The wolf frowned at that.

"The two aren't connected. They can't be."

The bison raised his hands in a conciliatory gesture. "I just think we should consider the possibility that the two events might be linked. The timing strikes me as more than merely coincidental. Tell me, is this the first time you've ever received word about your father?"

"...I guess not. I got another letter a couple years back, delivered through a third party. Said my father wanted to get in touch with me. I was in college at the time. Busy. I didn't need that drama."

"Jake, I'm not going to tell you how to feel. That isn't my place. But, is it possible that you have some unresolved feelings of guilt about rejecting your fathers attempt to connect? If he's now deceased, that door is forever closed, correct?"

The wolf ran his fingers through his head fur, grumbling to himself as he pondered the possibility.

"Technically speaking, I suppose it's possible. But I don't feel guilty. He's the one who abandoned me. What do I have to feel guilty about?"

"Just because this isn't weighing on your conscious mind doesn't mean that your subconscious mind hasn't been struggling with it for months, if not years. Besides, who ever said feelings were logical. A boy losing his father is a significant life event. It might be unhealthy to try and convince yourself otherwise."

"And just what does that all have to do with getting spanked?"

"I don't know that it does, Jake. But if your unconscious mind feels unresolved guilt about rejecting your father prior to his untimely death, it's possible that it is trying to resolve that emotional turbulence anyway it can. To include engaging in a form of self-flagellation. In other words, I think it's likely that you're punishing yourself. This isn't a disease or a virus, Jake. You didn't 'come down' with this. This is a mental health issue, which means we need to apply a mental health solution."

The wolf's fists curled into stress balls and he glared up at the ceiling.

"So what, you spank me and everything goes back to being hunky-dory again?"

"I didn't say that. Also, should you agree to attempt this potential treatment avenue, it wouldn't need to be me administering the corporal punishment. It just needs to be someone who you'd find an acceptable substitute for a paternal authority figure. Best case, this treatment offers you some degree of mental and emotional relief. Worst case, nothing happens and you have a sore bum for a day or so."

"...Would it hurt?" Jake asked, voice low as brought his head down to look at the therapist.

"It wouldn't be corporal punishment if it didn't sting a little," the bison said. "Are you asking me to spank you, Jake?"

"...Would I have to take my clothes off?"

"Heavens no," the doctor said, followed by a hearty chuckle. "I have no intention of making this a sexual act. Though, considering how your mind has conflated guilt and sex, I can't predict your reaction to the corporal punishment."

"Does it need to happen today?"

"No, it doesn't. However, the longer this goes on without treatment the more likely that the unwanted behaviors become self-reinforcing. I recommend we try to arrive at a possible treatment regimen as soon as possible."

"Okay... I guess," the wolf said, slumping in his chair. He longed for the days when everything in life didn't seem to conspire against him.

"Prior to agreeing, there's something you should understand. For this to work I'll need to act as a proxy for your father. That means I'll be taking on a fictitious role. Speaking and acting as a hypothetical father might. To be clear, until this session is over I will be your authoritative guardian, with you as my immature ward. I will be making decisions for you and imposing my will over you. My demeanor will also change. You will be spanked, though no other physical harm will come to you. You may also be verbally disciplined. Hearing this, do I have your full and informed consent to undertake the proposed therapy?"

This all sounded crazy to Jake. But no crazier than what he'd already been going through for the last couple months. At least the therapist sounded confident. And the man had been right that the timing of his mysterious father's dead had lined up all too conveniently.

Seconds ticked by as the silence stretched out. Finally, the wolf nodded.

"Yeah, okay. I consent."

The bison nodded, saying nothing. Taking off his glasses, he placed them on a the nearby chair-side table. Jake gulped. The glasses had had a civilizing effect on the large bison. Without them he looked far more stern and unapproachable.

Dr. Bastion stretched head left and then right, his neck audibly popping as he did so. Then he stared at the wolf for a long minute, as if deciding what to do with the wayward boy. Jake squirmed in his seat.

"Jake, I must say that I'm severely disappointed in you. You've had ample opportunity to visit your father and yet you only drag yourself in to see me when you need something. What's the matter boy? Too busy partying? Too much drinking and fucking to see your old man?"

"Hey, that's not fair!" Jake sputtered, rising to his own defense.

"Shut your fucking mouth, boy," the bison's voice boomed, stunning the wolf into silence. "And don't think for a moment I don't see your little prick getting stiff under those shorts."

The patient looked down in horror. Sure enough his member was rock hard, tenting his shorts. Shame swept over him in icy cold waves. In contrast, his dick throbbed hotly.

"I'm sorry!" Jake said before he could stop himself.

"Oh you'll be sorry alright," the bison said, nodding his head in agreement. "When you're bent over my lap yelping, you'll be plenty sorry. What do you have to say for yourself, young man?"

"No daddy, please! Don't!"

Jake's mind was filled with panic. He couldn't think straight. Nothing made sense. This wasn't his dad. He didn't even know his father! This was his therapist. This wasn't real! But none of that mattered. To the wolf it felt real. Intensely real.

The bison's voice was as hard as iron. Gone was the polite geniality he'd shown just minutes prior.

"I swear to God, if you make me come over there and fetch you, you won't like how this turns out. Now be a good boy and come here. Give daddy your wrist."

The wolf thought he might piss himself. The doctor was so big and strong. And he was so weak and pathetic. All of his time spent in the gym meant nothing compared to his father's oceanic strength. Not seeing any other option, he stood to take his first timid step towards the bison. He didn't want to get spanked but if he ran, his daddy would just catch him. You couldn't run from daddy.

"Is that puny pecker of yours leaking through your shorts? You better get yourself under control right this instant, young man. If you get daddy's pants wet with your precum, I'll be mighty cross with you. Now stop moping around and get over here."

As if trapped in some dream and unable to help himself, Jake's shaky legs drew him closer to the stern man, step by step. Before he knew it the bison had taken him by the wrist, tugging him closer, forcing him to lean down over the bison's mighty thighs.

Desperate to avoid the soul-searing pain the bison's hand would inflict on his bum, the wolf did everything he could think of to weasel out of the inevitable. He begged. He pleaded. He apologized. Nothing worked. The man was so close now he could smell the combined scents of his daddy's sweat and shampoo, his wide eyes locked on the lap that he was being dragged onto.

No, no, no, no! Jake's internal mind screamed. Daddy's hand would be ragnarok. Armageddon. The end of days. A fate worse than death. He'd do anything to avoid that.

And then something deep inside the wolf snapped. He knew what he had to do.

Falling to the ground, Jake's knees were just barely able to hit the ground with the doctor's grip holding him up by the wrist. The big man frowned at him, clearly unhappy with his shenanigans. He needed to make daddy happy. That was the only possibility of saving his ass.

Placing his left hand squarely between the bison's legs, Jake began to rub. For a moment the doctor seemed too surprised to act which bought the wolf the time he needed to rouse the beast. He needed to get daddy thinking with his fat penis rather than with his head. It was his only chance.

He rubbed hard and insistently, feeling the bison's bulge grow under his hand. When the man groaned, Jake knew his plan was working. Which meant there was still hope.

The man looked like he was about to say something and so the wolf acted first, pushing his hand down the bison's pants. A giant erection was there to greet his fingers and so Jake took it in hand. It was so warm in his grip and it seemed to spew precum as he squeezed it. Dr. Bastion groaned again, this time his deep voice taking on a shuddering edge of need.

"Daddy... wouldn't you rather--" Jake began, only to be interrupted by the therapist.

"Not another word out of you, boy. If you think this is getting you out of a spanking, you are sorely mistaken."

Dread came over the wolf in fresh waves as he whimpered at the pitiless decree.

"But... maybe a brief postponement is in order. Finish what you started, boy. Fish daddy's cock out and get it in your mouth. And I better not hear a single word of complaint if your jaw gets sore. You'll have no one to blame but yourself."

Jake didn't like that daddy was still insistent on giving him his spanking. But as long as there was time there was a chance to escape his fate. Maybe if he did an extra good job working on daddy's cock he'd be able to make the man forget about the paddling. That was possible, right?

Working fast before the bison changed his mind, the wolf used his one free hand to free the man's shaft from his pants. As the zipper was tugged down the tower of flesh tumbled out, dark, heavy, and mostly hard. Jake had never seen another man's penis up close before. Certainly not one this thick and scary. His own member twitched in his shorts as he realized that he was going to have to fit that thing into his mouth somehow. It might fit, he supposed. Barely.

A low rumbling noise came from daddy's chest and the wolf realized he'd wasted far too much time ogling the goods. Scooting closer on his knees, he did his best to show his daddy what a good boy he was, opening his mouth and letting the doctor get a good look at his mouth and throat.

The bison grunted and said, "That's cute, boy. But daddy doesn't want to see your throat, he wants to feel it. Stop stalling and start stretching. No half-assing this. You owe daddy a pair of lips down around my root and I plan to collect."

Jake worried that he may have made a mistake when he felt the tool come to rest heavily onto his tongue, flopped rudely into place by a flick of the bison's wrist. The wolf tried to pull back to approach the shaft from a different angle but he felt an impossibly powerful grip on the back of his head.

"Stop squirming. I won't let you pass out but I'm not letting you quit either just because your eyes were bigger than your appetite. You can pull off when my load is resting in your stomach and not a moment before. Now get to work. Daddys' cock ain't gonna suck itself."

It was then that the wolf returned to himself, understood where he was, and what was happening to him. This wasn't his daddy. This was Dr. Bastion, his therapist. He was a straight guy who loved tonguing cunts and fucking pussy. He certainly wasn't gay or even bi and he had absolutely no interest in sucking off the big bison or in swallowing the man's cum. Jake tried to tell the man that but with the therapist's bull cock resting on his tongue the noises he made were muffled and incoherent. The wolf tried to pull back, to tell Dr. Bastion he'd changed his mind, but was held in place by the bison's hand behind his head. The straight boy became all too aware of the taste of cock in his mouth.

"Jake? Jake, I need you to look up here. That's it, eye to eye. You went and got daddy all riled up, so that means you have two choices. Option one, you can fuck daddy's cock with your throat. Option two, daddy can fuck your throat with his cock. Which is it going to be?"

The wolf tried again to make the man understand. He didn't want this! He was revoking consent. His tongue moved around the musky pole and he attempted to enunciate the words but all he got for his trouble was the salty flavor of precum filling his senses.

"You want daddy to take the lead? Fine by me, skinny boy. Do yourself a favor and try to relax."

With comical ease Dr. Bastion began to tug Jake's head down. Room inside his muzzle was rapidly becoming scarce as the bison slid himself deeper in. The wolf tried to struggle but with only one hand free he didn't have the leverage he'd need to have a prayer of fighting back.He gagged as his eyes watered, the therapists arousal finding the entrance to his virgin throat before sliding further still. Jake felt his own member jump and pulse, his underwear becoming slick with precum.

He was humiliated beyond words as his therapist began to use him for sexual gratification. The bison didn't bother to speak anymore, all of his attention focused on using the straight boy's throat as a fleshlight. Occasionally he'd pause his slow thrusting to begrudgingly permit the frantic eyed youth to catch a few quick breaths. The wolf felt like his muzzle was being fucked raw and hoped the bison would spend his load quickly. Instead the doctor took his time, content to open up Jake's throat by degrees.

The wolf kept his eyes locked on the bison's, silently pleading with the man to stop or to at least hurry up and cum. Dr. Bastion's eyed stared right back down at him, never wavering. There was no mercy found in his eyes. Only a deep sexual hunger backed by an iron will. For over twenty minutes the two men stared into each other eyes as the bison fed more and more of his stalk into Jake's increasingly pliable throat.

The doctor eventually address the youth again, this time to explain, "I'm going to pull you all the way down now, boy. When I do, I want you to put your tongue to work on my balls. Then I'll let you catch your breath and we'll do it again. And we'll keep doing it until I'm satisfied that you've licked every bit of sweat from my sack. I suggest you work diligently unless you want to spend the next hour choking on your daddy's love muscle."

Jake received no further warning before the last third of the bison's shaft was crammed into his mouth. Too overcome by having his throat battered completely open, the wolf couldn't marshal the mental presence to even try and lick the bull's sack. It was all he could do just to stave off a panic attack as he groaned and feebly struggled. Dr. Bastion didn't lecture him on this missed opportunity. Rather, he let the wolf pull back, catch his breath for a few life preserving seconds, and then pulled the patient right back down.

"Let's get those eyes back up here, yeah? Daddy wants to see your reaction as he takes your breath. Eyes up, tongue out. There's a good lad."

Jake was annoyed, scared, and horny all at the same time as he watched the bison watch him. The wolf forced his tongue to move and extending, knowing that if it he didn't this abuse would just go on forever. The boy did the best he could to lap at the bull's orbs as his throat strained to cope with the appendage stretching it open. Feeling the wolf's tongue get to work, the bison didn't praise or encourage him but he did make a soft grunt of acknowledgement.

By his eighth trip down, Jake realized the bull was serious about this going on until he got the message. This time he attacked the bison's balls with his tongue, working the pair over as firmly as he could.

The therapist grunted again but this time said, "Now you're starting to get it. But if I were grading your efforts, I'd still only give that a C plus. Let's aim for at least a B this time down, yeah?" Jake felt the now familiar sensation of the bison's rod embedding itself down his throat as his breath was cut off yet again, the man's eyes watching his reaction as his own pair squinted in discomfort.

This went on for what felt like an eternity but which Dr. Bastion's wrist watch told him was just over forty minutes which meant that in total he'd been fucking his patient's throat for over an hour by this point. Jake still looked up with him with those soulful eyes which were now half closed with a pleading sort of exhaustion.

"Alright boy, I suppose they're clean enough. Took you longer than I expected. But daddy's ready to cum now so let me tell you what's going to happen. I'm going to take both hands off you but you're going to continue to deep throat my cock until it spews. This is sort of like a trust fall except that if you fuck up, we're going to start this whole thing over from the beginning. So you consider your options carefully before taking that mouth off my unit."

And just like that, the bison's grip was removed from Jake's head and arm. The wolf quickly looked around the room, gauging his options.

"Don't recall telling you to look away, punk. You just earned yourself five more swats. Care to make that an even ten or are you going to give daddy your throat pussy like a good boy? Come on, get to work just like I showed you. But nice and fast. Bring me over the edge, slut."

Jake bit the bullet and found energy reserves that he didn't even know he had. Too tired to worry about what might come after, the wolf moved his muzzle as fast he could. With each downward thrust he pushed his nose against the bisons crotch fur just as had been done to him for the last forty minutes. He powered through the pain and soon the bull was groaning. The wolf redoubled his efforts, sensing that the doctor was close. As they looked into each others eyes, the bison offered a small, encouraging smile. But Jake saw it for what it really was. The gloating smile of the victor. The wolf hated that smile but he hated his own erection even more. Worse, his dick seemed to throb in satisfaction at the bison's stern smile.

Just as Jake felt himself running out steam, the bison gave a loud, long groan before instructing, "Daddy's cumming, boy. Don't stop. Don't you dare fucking stop. Milk that cum. Yeah, give daddy that throat-pussy."

The wolf hung in there as best as he could as he felt the bison's meat pulse in his throat. And when it was done, Jake wasn't even given a moment to recover before being thrown over the bull's lap. A bare second later, a dinner plate sized hand slammed against his clothed backside with brutal speed.

Jake yelped from the pain and shock.

The wolf bucked, heaved, and yowled as his ass was struck again and again with only the briefest respite between blows. By the fifth swat Jake was moaning. In pain certainly, but also in response to his throbbing cock. By the eighth spank realized that if this kept up, he was going to blow a huge load right in his pants.

His eyes rolled into his head as pain commingled with pleasure, his erection pressing hard into the bison's leg. The wolf's body swayed with each swat, forcing him to hump the therapist's leg whether he wanted to or not. And he definitely wanted to. Oh fuck did he want to.

When the fifteen blow landed Jake felt his whole body tense up as his body got ready to fire. The next swat landed and the wolf grunted pathetically as he felt the most powerful orgasm of his life get swatted out of him. With each subsequent spank more and more spunk jetted out of his stalk, drenching the inside of his underwear and coating the top of the bison's leg.

The therapist was no dummy and saw what was happening. In the interest of giving his patient his money's worth, the bison kept on spanking until he sensed the wolf was done. After which he flipped Jake over onto his back and let the panting, crying wolf catch his breath.

After a minute or so of deep, labored breathing Jake had recovered enough to manage, "Dr. Bastion..."

"That's daddy to you, until this session is over. So, how does my boy feel? Guilty? Ashamed? Embarrassed?"

All of the fight had left the wolf's body. He was just too tapped out for anything else.

"...Maybe a little embarrassed. But not like before. Not even close."

The bison nodded at this as though this had been expected.

"And are you sorry for not hearing your father out before he passed away?"

The wolf continued to pant as he considered the question. Eventually he responded with, "Yeah. I suppose I am."

Again the bull nodded, this time saying, "Then with the power vested in me as your daddy, I forgive you, Jake. Go in peace."

With those simple words the wolf felt something unclench in his heart. Moments later he was asleep, passed out on Dr. Bastion's legs with a smile on his face.

---

One Week Later

Dr. Bastion was sitting in his office when he noticed his desk phone silently light up. Glancing at the caller ID, the bison smiled and picked up the phone.

"Jake, hello my boy. So good to hear from you."

"Hello doctor," the wolf said from the other end of the line.

Picking up on the youth's slightly tense intonation the therapist move right to business asking, "And what can I do for you today?"

There was a brief pause before Jake replied, "Well the thing is, every has been going pretty great for this past week. You know, since the treatment. I was even able to hook-up with that fox again. By the end she looked plenty happy that she gave me another chance."

"Fantastic, that's great to hear," the doctor said. "Though, I am sensing a but coming on."

"...But, yesterday I felt the guilt coming on again. And today it's even worse. Please tell me you're not going to have to spank me again."

The therapist chuckled lightly, since the wolf seemed to be making a bit of a joke out of their previous encounter.

"I'd say, let's explore options during another session," the bison recommended as he rubbed his growing cock under his desk. "How about one week from today?"

"Umm, sure doc. But don't you have anything sooner?" Jake asked, a touch of anxiety in his voice.

"I'm afraid not, lad," Dr. Bastion lied. "In the meantime, I recommend starting a journal where you can jot notes on each masturbation attempt. Helpful details might include your fantasies at the time, any involuntary utterances, whether or not you were able to masturbate to completion, and how long you spent playing with yourself prior to completion or resignation"

A longer silence this time and then, "...Yes, doctor."

To which the doctor replied, "Jake, during private conversations I think it'd be best if you called me daddy, don't you?"

An even longer period of silence until finally the bison heard, "...Yes, daddy."

"There's a good lad. See you in a week. I'll email you the appointment details."

Not waiting for a response, the bison sat the phone back down into its cradle before looking back over at his current patient.

"My apologies for the delay. I believe we're about ready to continue now."

Getting up out of his chair, the pantless doctor made his way over to a young male bunny who was bound against a sturdy leather-padded pole near the center of the office. The bunny was tied down in a kneeling position, unable to move with his arms and ankles cuffed back behind him on the other side of the pole.

As the bison approach the patient blinked up at him, mumbling something into the funnel gag that was filling the entirety of his mouth. Sprouting out from the front of the funnel gag was a curved tube which rose just above his head. And attached to that tube was a waterproof basin with a hole at the bottom which fed into the tube and, likewise, into the bunny's gagged mouth. It looked a bit like a miniature urinal which was appropriate because being a receptacle for urine was precisely its purpose. Nearby sat four empty water bottles, recently drained of their pristinely filtered contents.

Dr. Bastion stopped directly in front of the wide eyed youth, his piss hardon swinging left and right before him like a phallic metronome. Casually scratching the fur just above his quite full bladder the bison said, "I hope you don't mind that I'll be erect for this round of treatment. I assure you it will have no effect on the flavor of the waste that I'll be pissing into you."

The bunny moaned into his gag as he struggled against his bonds. The bison found this squirming to be quite enticing and so began to slowly stroke himself directly within the straining boy's field of vision.

"On that point, I hate to trouble you boy but while you're down there... Perhaps you wouldn't mind disposing of another sort of liquid for me?"

The youth tried to shake his head no but the straps prevented him from communicating effectively in this manner. Not that it would have mattered. The bison's eyes were already closed, his breath becoming somewhat ragged as he ignored the boy. The bunny had no choice but to watch as the therapist's hand worked back and forth over the biggest cock the young man had ever seen. Already skinny ropes of precum were dripping down into the receptacle from the bull's plump cockhead.

The boy huffed in frustration as his own member twitched in its compact metal chastity cage. It had been four months since he'd been foolish enough to let the bison place the pitiless device on him and it hadn't been removed even once since then no matter how much he'd begged. Perhaps this was all his fault, the bunny quietly despaired. After all, he had made the doctor promise to fix his chronic masturbation habit.

The boy's member twitched again as precum started to coat and pool over his tongue. The bunny watched on as the bison thoroughly enjoyed a sexual act which was now forbidden to him. The profound unfairness of the situation drove him on as he pulled at the sturdy leather holding him in place. Similarly, his arousal surged as it futilely tried to respond to the erotic show the doctor was putting on for him. The lad burned with envy at the sight of the bison's hand teasing fresh dollops of precum out of his shaft.

Perversely, part of him rejoiced in being treated like this. This small but growing part of him loved his daddy unconditionally. It wanted to encourage the older man on as he stroked. To worship the large bison's muscles, balls, and cock. Worst of all, it wanted to thank the big-dicked man for keeping him chaste, blue-balled, and oh so very horny. The voice told him that being frustrated was a good thing because it made him more responsive to his daddy's touch.

So far the bunny had been able to keep this deviant part of himself in check but the constant struggle against it had started to wear him down. For his part, Dr. Bastion was unaware of the inner conflict his patient was currently engaged in. Truth be told, he had already put the bunny almost entirely out of his mind. Instead the bison's thoughts were occupied by a cute, gym-fit straight wolf. The therapist was brainstorming ideas for their next session as he slowly pleasured himself. The bunny's only role in this act would be to serve as a convenient place to deposit the ample quantity of seed he would end up spilling. His personal cum toilet. Funnel, tube, and throat serving as one unbroken path to the bunny's stomach, the boy's tongue forced to marinate in whatever happened to wash over it.

As was often the case, the bison was in no hurry to peak and so the minutes ticked by quietly as the boy watched and waited, his eyes nervously flickering over to the large package of still full water bottles in the corner. The only sounds in the room were from the large grandfather clock in the corner and the occasional soft grunts of a masturbating bison who very much needed to piss.