The Guidance Counselor - Chapter 13 (Patreon)

The third after-school session slowed things down a bit. The usual setup with the circumferential transducer and the divider with the blanket were on the side against the wall. Ms. Johnson was there typing away on her laptop. She wore black that day, as well as a business skirt, and it complemented her figure.

“Ah, Jason. Good afternoon. Hope your day went well?’

She had gotten up to put a book on her shelf. Her ass was unbelievable, and that skirt surprised me because it was above the knees and was something that I was sure Father John would not approve of.

“Same old, same old,” I said.

“We’ve collected a lot of good data so far. I wanted to take a moment to interpret some results.”

She pored over a file before asking, “I noticed in last session there was a dip in blood flow. What was it?”

Without skipping a beat, I said, “I thought you were going to throw up at one point.”

She marked this down. “So that’s a no to the emetophilia.”

“Emeto—what?”

“Attraction to vomit. That’s the technical term. What made you think I was going to throw up?”

“The…gurgly way your burp sounded. It reminded me of when people are about to throw up and there’s this…gagging sort of sound.”

“Interesting.” More typing. She sat back and thought heavily, hands on her chin. “You know, people remember Sigmund Freud in the wrong way.”

“Oh.” I didn’t know much about psychology, so I feigned surprise. “Is that so?”

“Yes. He wanted to explore subconscious desires and while he was on point with many things, his conclusions for why the mind worked were rather…farfetched by today’s standards. We don’t really hold him in as high regard as the everyday person does. To the public, he has become more of a mythical figure. But like I said, he did do some interesting things. He once wanted to see if he could…er…convert homosexuals to heterosexuality. While he did find that he could diminish homosexual desire to some degree, he couldn’t erase it entirely. He couldn’t “induce” heterosexuality in a person.”

Where the hell is this going?

“I’ve wondered about your fetishes. The mystery here is a classic case of nature versus nurture. I wonder what would happen if you were to hear every burp from now on sound like the one I made the other day. Would it erase your eructophilia…or simply diminish it?”

I winced. “Are we…going to do something that I don’t like?”

“Oh, no, of course not. We’re just exploring things. But I’m not going to just suddenly do aversion therapy on you. That’s only if you want to, then I will respect that. But I must warn you that aversion therapy does have a chance at developing post-traumatic stress disorder. Has this fetish, or fetishes, ever made you think, ‘I wish I wasn’t turned on by this’?”

I thought a long hard minute about that. I couldn’t give a gut react to that question. It was a sort of “yes and no” at the same time. Did I regret having fetishes? No. Did I regret the missed opportunities and awkward behavior because of my fetishes? Yes. Absolutely. I wished it were as socially acceptable to say “I love it when a women farts” as it is to say “I love a woman with red hair” or “I love a woman with big breasts.”

I told her this.

Ms. Johnson hummed, folding her hands together. “I see. Would you say this is something that defines you?”

That felt like a really odd question, and yet something natural one might ask. I couldn’t imagine a life now without my fetishes. And yet the way she phrased that made me feel weird to write down “fetishes” in my list of personality traits. But at the same time…

“I…really…don’t know?”

She waited to see if I would add to that or commit to an answer. When it became clear that I really didn’t know what to say, she jumped on another tough question, “How important are these fetishes to you in a relationship?”

“Uhhhhh.”

I always did secretly ask myself “What if the perfect girl never burped, farted, or ate a lot?” The perfect girl for me at every level – intellectually, emotionally – except for the fact that she couldn’t do any of those things. Not because she wouldn’t, but because she couldn’t. Or, more realistically, what if the perfect girl for me sucked at burping, farting, and eating too much?

“You don’t have to answer that,” she said, realizing that I was taking too long and probably looked distraught sitting there trying to come up with an answer. “I’m just trying to see how important this is to you.” She returned to her laptop. “I do have ideas to explore negative reactions to your fetishes…if you wish to do that. If not, then we can move onto something else.”

Even if Ms. Johnson did gurgly, vomit-like burps, I was all for it. Anything with her!

So, I agreed…

And sadly, the following test had nothing to do with her, but rather me sitting alone in the room watching clips she had compiled on her laptop to test my erection when I was watching them.

What a fucking bummer, man.

Still, the experience was not without a few enlightening tidbits. I watched various run-of-the-mill fart fetish videos of women farting – famous ladies from back in the day like Queen of Farts, Kinky Kristi, and Peteuse. Nothing different there.

Then it started to get poopy.

“Ah, fuck,” I said aloud to myself, looking away.

Scat oftentimes went hand-in-hand with eproctophilia. Not so much with me. The minute a fart sounded too wet, like dangerously wet, I got turned off. Still, scat wasn’t for everyone in the community. But the one thing that nearly every eproctophiliac was on board with was the smell. I could practically smell what was on the screen, and that made me retch. Everyone else in the community however applauded the smell of farts with massive erections. It was the one thing about eproctophilia within the community that I couldn’t relate to.

I went as limp as noodle.

I found myself feeling the same way I felt so many years ago when I was watching Eddie Murphy’s take on The Nutty Professor with my parents and that cringy scene came on where everyone burped and farted at the dinner table. The entire theater erupted in laughter but I sat there looking away retching. I hadn’t thought about that moment in forever. It’s strange how that memory smacked me in the back of the head like a blunt instrument.

The compilation switched to basic farting videos – this time one of those MFX videos. For those not in the know, MFX created what we now know as classic “Brazilian fart porn”. Despite my eproctophilia, those Brazilian fart porn videos were so obviously fake and overdone that it didn’t affect me the way something like Kinky Kristi did. They followed a script where one woman out-farted all her girlfriends, or one woman kept embarrassing herself by farting in front of others, and then things went really crazy from there and ended up with the women licking each other’s assholes or farting on each other’s faces. It sounds great on paper but the execution didn’t sell it to me. It was all so…very much like standard pornography, you know? The crazy camera angles made me roll my eyes. You know it’s a stage and a set-up. Nothing about it feels natural to me. They try hard to appeal to fetishists by having some vague plot. You clearly knew they were pumping air up their ass to be farting that loud and that much. The overall goal I think was to create something so ridiculously over-the-top to appeal to extreme fart fetishists.

Next was cake-farting. Something I was absolutely not into either. Whenever I see cake-farting, I can’t help but be distracted by the cake and think, “They just wasted a good cake.” Sometimes the idea of snuffing out a candle with a fart intrigued me. Sometimes. When YouTube came out, videos of women lighting their farts did interest me, but then I moved on from them to find better things. I think the only time I would be interested in a woman farting over a flame would be over a campfire. There would be a whole scenario behind it where she ate too many beans during a camping trip. Then accidentally fell down with her butt facing the campfire….and then….FWOOSH!

Sitting there watching things that turned me on and then turned me off reminded me eerily of A Clockwork Orange. For a terrible moment I felt like a sexual deviant who needed “correction”. I didn’t like that feeling, obviously, but a part of me was still tempted to go further down the rabbit hole.

The video ended with milk gallon challenges that ended with vomiting – something that killed my boner entirely.

Ms. Johnson returned, went over the data, and we discussed what turned me off and why.

“What was the earliest memory you have of finding a scat fetish video?” she asked.

“There’s this one model named JoyLove [note for author: edit this when you find the right name you’re thinking of] who farts really long. I was watching one video where she was farting and I was, uh, you know…masturbating. But then she went to the toilet and started pooping and I immediately got turned off.”

“Does the sight of the toilet turn you off in most videos?”

“Yeah. Actually. It’s like the second I see it I just…imagine the smell. Like I said before, the smell really kills it for me.”

“Smell, taste, sound, and touch are senses that people have very strong opinions about. They can be intertwined because of strong memories, good or bad. One person can find the smell of gasoline pleasing while another person finds it horrendous. One person might hate a specific texture, like leather or the edges of toast, while another person loves them. And I’m sure, as a teenager, you have seen how people have very strong opinions about music.”

“Does that mean I have a strong negative memory about poop or something?”

She shrugged. “Not necessarily. Freud was of the opinion that there are different stages in a child’s life where the child focuses on various aspects of the body. It’s possible that you were just properly potty-trained and don’t harbor any strong feelings about poop. It’s possible that you do have a memory but don’t recall. I don’t think you do. I think the former is more likely.”

“But I still love farts, obviously, which is close to pooping. So does that mean I…I dunno…missed some developmental step in my life? Was I potty-trained only half-correctly or something?”

“I don’t know and that’s why we’re doing this. With that in mind, would you like to do a test next time to explore something you don’t like?”

“Yes.”

“Again, I want to warn you that it may affect your liking or disliking towards things. That’s the thing, we don’t know what would happen.”

A warmth welled up in me, because I felt like we were partners on a voyage, exploring the unknown and working together.

“Yeah. I’m down for it.”