Gracia sat on her therapist's couch, wincing as she picked at the bra straps beneath her tight, button-up blouse. Her panties rode up into her swollen ass and vulva, causing small, sensitive jolts whenever she adjusted her legs. She still didn't understand how her tits and pussy could be so sensitive; it was never like this when she was still Greg.

An older bearded man sat across from her and gave her a sympathetic look. "We're almost at the end of our hour; I feel like we've made a lot of progress," He said gently.

Gracia brushed her long, brown hair from her face and fidgeted with one of her horns. She kept forgetting those were there. It was also important to sit correctly, so her tail didn't get cramped. "I-- I just...  I don't know how I'm supposed to live as a cow woman from now on. Am I making progress, Gilbert?"  She grumbled, pushing her legs together. She couldn't help but notice the thick muscles outlined beneath her therapist's shirt. His scent had been assailing her senses for the last three sessions, becoming too much. She once took pride in being a strong man who slept with many women, and now it took all of her willpower not to strip this hunk of all his clothes and suck his cock.

"Yes, you are making tons of progress. You have only been in this body for-- oh, it will be a week tomorrow, right?"  He momentarily scratched his chin in contemplation. "Yup; tomorrow. That's no time at all. You didn't cry once during this session, and there were no panic attacks."

Gracia did feel a sense of pride upon hearing that, but she still felt concerned and humiliated. Almost half of humans underwent a spontaneous transformation at some point. Most were generally minor, such as growing a small set of horns or gaining a set of gills that allowed underwater breathing. Other cases, like Gracia's, were more severe. All that transformed into a cow girl like her, without fail, developed an insatiable desire to be bred and milked.

 Gracia's cheeks flushed as her eyes turned toward the window. "Like we discussed, my-- umm..." She took a deep breath before continuing. "My estrus cycle kicked in."  Her gaze turned to Gilbert's crotch, a pang of need bubbling within her. "I looked into it the other night and saw my insurance covers s-- sex therapy for people with severe transformations like me."  What was she saying? She couldn't stop herself.

Gilbert's eyes widened slightly as he sat back and placed two fingers on his cheek. "Oh? Is that so? If you weren't aware, I'm licensed for that."

A surge of adrenaline shot through Gracia when she saw Gilbert's dick twitch through his pants. Her tits and engorged sex screamed for relief; it wasn't an urge that self-pleasure could satiate. "Is it really okay for me to find men attractive? It hurts--" she briefly hesitated, biting her lip. "It hurts to fight my urges. I can't live like that. I will never be male again."  Her breathing grew haggard as she unbuttoned her shirt from the top. She needed this.

"Miss Gracia, there's paperwork to fill out. We can't just jump right into this," Gilbert meagerly insisted, unable to hide his growing erection. "But, yes, of course, it's okay for you to embrace your new sexuality. The sooner you do, the sooner you give yourself permission to be happy."

"I can't wait for that!"  Gracia fervently cried as her F-cup tits spilled out of her unbuttoned top. In another few seconds, her skirt and shirt had fallen to the floor, leaving her in only panties. "If there are any complications, I will accept full blame. I need your help!"

"I really shouldn't..."

Gracia dislodged her panties and purred as she hit the ground. She then sauntered over to where Gilbert sat, her birthing hips and round ass bouncing in tandem with her tits. She stared down at her therapist with a desperate, pleading expression. "You're my therapist; please...  I need you," she begged. She felt like she would never start to accept her new body if she didn't do this.

Gilbert stroked his beard. "I suppose we could just not log this session and pretend it never happened. We could fill the paperwork out later," he reasoned. His erection uncomfortably strained his pants, so he went to unzip himself.

"Don't!"  Gracia cried, shaking her head. "Please let me strip you," she bashfully stated, blushing with embarrassment at her sexual appetite. She knelt in front of Gilbert and went for his zipper. Immersion therapy might have been just what she needs.