{"sf1_id":2236764,"sf2_id":"B1QaJJ71","title":"Microtherapy","author":"Starkat1138","words":1276,"posted_at":"2025-03-21T22:54:17.000Z","tags":["Macro","Micro","Therapy"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/2236764-microtherapy","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/B1QaJJ71","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/d0/2d/d02d06c5-3cf2-4591-8015-50efbfda54f8","description":"CW: mild violence, therapy  \n  \nA micro participates in a unique form of venting therapy.  \n  \n  \n  \nVenting out feelings without fear anything could bother or harm a practitioner's an interesting thought with sizeplay. Not real therapy, obviously, do not attempt, lol","content":"A scream ripped from gritted teeth, jumping octaves in his throat. He lunged at her,  \nprecise jabs in his mind falling into wild slashing, bashing, clawing as he raked her, grunting as  \nevery blow pounded back up his limbs. His cry bore words as it grew hoarse, ragged,  \ndesperate.  \n  \n“Gah, fuck, I hate you! Your smug stupid fucking faces, all the stupid fucking bullshit  \ntaking up every goddamn minute I might have to think-”  \n  \n“Be specific.” She interrupted, and her fingers curled inwards as the blows rained upon  \nher.  \n  \nHe snarled and heaved for breath, shoving back against her, “Specific? That’s the worst  \npart of it, everyone wants a fucking pamphlet! I have to do fucking everything for you already,  \nand you’re the ones who need to be told how it is! I-”  \n  \n“Specific.” She insisted, and her palms moved inwards.  \n  \n“I hate you!” He kicked at her, other foot slamming back, eyes flashing, “I hate the way  \nyou look at me like I’m inferior, like I’m something tolerated, like I’m the one too helpless to  \nmove my fucking finger without needing someone to prompt you! The way I bend over fucking  \nbackwards to try and accommodate every fucking fault, every fucking stupid, idiotic thing out of  \nyour goddamn mouth! I hate you remarking on every last thing you’d have preferred me to do,  \nthat again if you could have lifted a goddamn finger you’d have fucking been done with in the  \ntime it took you-”  \n  \n“And that’s my fault? You’re the one bending. You’re the one breaking. You’re the one  \nperforming.” She moved in again, surging up to meet him, closing fast enough to make him  \nflinch, hiss in sharp recoil. “Why are you letting it happen?”  \n  \nHe froze in place for a moment, a heaving exhale dissolving into a cold shudder. Sweat  \nspilled down his brow. His eyes welled. He snarled, lunging at her, grabbing hold and rending,  \nclawing, a growl roaring beneath as he cried out,  \n  \n“Performing?! Fuck you, performing! I am always doing shit for you! I feed you, I talk  \nthrough every fucking problem, I do everything you demand from me so I can have the privilege  \nof being in your presence, you…you fucking bloodsucker, you entitled prick! What don’t I do?  \nI’m your company, I’m your therapist, I’m your cook, I’m your fucking maid-”  \n  \nShe didn’t flinch for an instant. “So what? You do it. For many people, if you’re to be  \nbelieved. You do it day after day, even as this little rage builds. Seems like you’re wasting time.”  \nShe leaned in, eyes narrowed, “You hate it. Hate me. When have you ever told anyone  \nany of this? Why are you doing something you hate, for people who don’t care, who think so  \nlittle of you? Why do you bother yourself with problems that exhaust what little strength you  \npossess, that stretch beyond your limited abilities, that turn you into this?”   \n  \nShe closed her hand around him, walls encircling him, dwarfing him, swallowing him as he clung to her palm..  \n“Why are you doing this to yourself?”  \n  \n“I-...!” His fingers clenched mid-wrend, and he clung to her, feet off the ground, limbs  \nlurching into a trembling. “I’m not doing this to myself! I-...”  \n  \nHe shuddered, shook upon a palm that stood fast like a boulder in his grip. He fell silent  \nsave for the high-pitched squeak of an inhale. The tiniest shimmer of a tear fell from his face to  \nher palm. Then another fell, and another, and another. He pitifully thudded a fist against her, and  \nthrough the rising tears choked out,  \n  \n“B-because…cause maybe it’s fucking me! Maybe I am inferior, maybe I am lucky to be  \nwithin ten fucking miles of anyone, to serve some purpose, to do something with myself! I-I’m  \njust always alone, even when I’m with people, a dozen, a-a hundred, I’m alone! A-and I do all  \nthis…a-all this fucking shit because if I don’t then they’re not even there to begin with, a-and it’s  \nworse!”  \n  \nHe slipped from the purchase upon her palm, down to the smooth wood of the ground,  \ndeep within the shadowed well of her grasp, sniffling weakly, wiping at his eyes, slumped over,  \ndefeated. “I-I’m just tired! I-I thought someone was going to take care of me, too, i-if I did  \nenough! A-and I don’t feel like it’s happened, a-and I don’t know if it’s because I’m not good  \nenough or I’m not the right kind of person, s-so I keep going and going and going, a-and instead  \nof feeling like I’m doing something good, o-or that I’m good, I-I can’t stop feeling…so angry.  \nBleak. Just…trapped…”  \n  \nHe trailed off. She finished scribbling another note down with her other hand, sliding the  \nnotepad aside, watching his ears flicker and flinch as she leaned over the panther in the pit of  \nher fingers. She let him breathe for a few moments, before softly answering, “It’s not hard to feel  \ntrapped by your own life, or to lash out at it.” Slowly, she withdrew the fingers from around him,  \nleaving him in light and open air upon her desk.  \n  \n“It seems like you’re coming down…how do you feel?”  \n  \nHe stayed down, catching his breath, head hung low, eyes open and firmly staring at,  \nthrough the grain of the wood beneath him. When he looked up, his eyes were red, and a quiet,  \nchilled timidity had flowed in to replace the anger that had boiled over.  \n  \n“I-I don’t know…I’ve never just…let loose…not like that. Not like how I feel when I’m  \nalone, and really not…physically, like that.” He looked at his hands, squeezing his legs a little  \ncloser to his chest. “I’ve never done that, ever. It was…frightening.” He let the word hang, biting  \nhis lip. “Are you…are you sure you’re okay? I didn’t hurt you?”  \n  \nThe vixen nodded, taking a quick jot upon her pad, “It might not be flattering, but you  \ncan’t. Perks of being someone my size in this line of work; most of my patients could take  \nanything out on me, and it’d be like rain on a cliffside.”  \n  \nShe focused upon him, folding her hands in her lap, auburn hair spilling onto her  \nshoulders as her chair gently creaked. “It’s not something for everyone, me roleplaying as a sort  \nof combined adversary, but for some of my patients on your scale, I’ve found letting out  \neverything you can’t, or won’t, burden others with, for fear of hurting them, frightening them,  \nlosing them, can help form a useful starting point to work upwards from. Believe it or not, I’ve  \ndone this sort of therapy as a patient myself.”  \n  \nThe panther looked up, gawking for a moment, a belated, nervous laugh and a hand  \nrunning through his hair muffling his shock, “Y-you? Hah, th-they must have been…well, really  \nbig!”  \n  \n“Believe me, if you’ve been around long enough, there’s always somebody bigger out  \nthere. I’m lucky they were willing to let me vent it all out. Not exactly something I’d want to do  \nwith anyone less than building size.” She chuckled, reaching under him to rumble the desk with  \nthe opening of a single, titanic drawer, “We still have some time, we could talk more, or I had an  \nexercise, if you wanted.”  \n  \nHe swallowed down the last of the lump in his throat, wriggling a little more upright, tail  \ncurling, “U-uh, sure, exercise sounds good, I-I mean! What is it?”  \n  \nShe smiled a little, spreading index cards twice his height across the desk’s plane, “Well,  \nsince we’ve got a decent root for these feelings you’re struggling with, I thought I’d ask you to  \nlook through a few schemas with me…”"}