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The title of this story comes from the Modest Mouse song "The Good Times are Killing Me," for the album "Good News for People Who Love Bad News." It has only loose thematic ties.
A reoccurring theme in fan works involving Yoruichi is that of promiscuity. I've often joked that she suffers from "fan attributed nymphomania." Then I began to wonder, what would it be like if she actually did suffer from hypersexual activity disorder? The result is this fic.
I feel like I've betrayed some of my readers by making this an AU fic. I could have made the subject matter work in the canon universe, but the story would have lost most of its impact.
As you can probably guess from the subject matter, there will be very strong and explicit sexual themes through this fic.
"Sex in not bad or wrong, it's perfectly healthy and natural." The therapist assured the fidgeting woman that sat on the couch across from her. "I'm here to help you manage your sexual urges, not destroy them. Do you understand?" The caramel-skinned woman nodded her head in affirmation, her lavender tresses caressing her face.
"Good," The therapist picked up her pad and pen and crossed her legs. "Let's begin." She said warmly as she clicked her pen.
"Where the hell are the rolls?" Soifon shouted into the kitchen of the local sandwich shop that she was currently employed in.
"Calm down," Omeada said as he exited the store room with a bag of rolls in tow.
"They were twenty feet away and you were gone for ten minutes!" Soifon fumed as she snatched the bag away. If she didn't need the money for college, she would have quite long ago. "It's the lunch rush and we're shorthanded!"
"I'm not getting paid commission." The fat man shrugged.
"I need a number four with extra pickles!" Renji shouted from the counter. Scowling, Soifon cut the roll and started to assemble the sandwich, shoving the turkey, cheese, and lettuce into the bread angrily and finishing it with a fist full of pickles. She wrapped the sandwich in paper and handed Omeada, who took the sandwich to Renji.
"I said I wanted extra tomato."The woman who ordered the sandwich said haughtily.
"My mistake, we'll fix it." Renji went back and threw the sandwich on the counter in front of Soifon.
"What's wrong with it?" The Chinese girl growled.
"She wanted extra tomatoes." Renji shrugged.
"You said extra pickles!' Soifon angrily threw the sandwich at Renji.
"I know!" Renji shouted back.
"Damn it Renji, do you have to be such a screw up all the time?" Ichigo mocked as he slammed a case of drinks down.
"Your one to talk, carrot top!" Renji shot back. "Remember last week when…" Soifon blocked them out as she angrily remade the sandwich.
I hate theses people so very, very much…
"Thank you, Dr. Unohana." The young woman shook the physician's hand graciously.
"We're off to an excellent start." Unohana affirmed. "But it will be a long and difficult road ahead. I will see you next week, same day and time." The woman put on her orange coat and left. Unohana walked over to electric kettle on her desk and turned it on. Sitting down, she took a box of tea bags out of a drawer and put on in the warming water.
As the tea brewed, Unohana took out the notes on her last patient. They were forwarded from her last psychiatrist, Yasochika Iemura.
Yoruichi Shihoin was a twenty-one year old homosexual woman suffering from hypersexual activity, often incorrectly referred to as nymphomania.
The daughter of a Japanese stock broker an African-American real-estate agent, Yoruichi's family was never short on money. Her early childhood was average for the child of wealthy parents. She went to a private elementary school and excelled in her class work.
When she hit puberty, she began to experiment sexually, as do most teens. She soon realized that she was not attracted to the boys in her class, but to the girls.
Yoruichi's was part of the only Christian family in her home town, her deeply religious mother had converted her father, and her parents had adopted a fundamentalist level of faith as a measure of self preservation. As a result, they were less than supportive when she came out to them.
Yoruichi continued to experiment, in spite of her parent's condemnation. She quickly found that while her partners were easily satisfied, she was not. The sexual urges never seemed to cease, and sex became an obsession. She began to chronically masturbate as a means of reliving the tension, but it was only temporary relief. Her grades plummeted and her social life disappeared. Her life was consumed by sex.
Against her better judgment, Yoruichi approached her parents about her predicament. They were dismissive of their daughter's distress and even went as far as to call it punishment for her amoral lifestyle.
Her parents died in a car accident when she was sixteen and she was put into foster care. Her surrogate family was much more supportive, taking her to the nearest doctor. From there she was referred to the local psychologist, where she was diagnosed as a sex addict.
She bounced from psychologist to psychiatrist in an effort to get proper treatment, but they were all ineffectual. When she turned eighteen, she gained access to her trust fund and her inheritance. She struck out on her own in the hopes of getting the help she desperately needed.
The electric kettle buzzed. Unohana poured out the streaming liquid into a mug and sipped in gingerly.
It wasn't until she began seeing Dr. Iemura for treatment that she was properly diagnosed. Up to that point, all of her treatment had been based on her incorrect diagnosis as a sex addict. She had been placed into various rehab programs, all of which failed miserably.
Hypersexual activity is not an addiction to sex, it is a psychological and physiological disorder. It is also not perpetual arousal syndrome. While many of the symptoms of the three disorders overlap, they were all distinct.
If Unohana had to surmise hypersexual activity into one word, it would be obsession. Sex becomes the sole purpose of existing for the afflicted. Satisfaction becomes the driving force behind all of their behavior. Sex addicts crave the chemical release of sex or use it to supplant a void in their life. Those suffering from perpetual arousal syndrome have a chemical imbalance that makes it impossible for their body to stop the autonomic sexual response cycle. Those with hypersexual activity were simple fixated on sex, and the abnormally high levels of sexual arousal and activity were a result of this fixation.
Since hypersexual activity is a psychological disorder, it has one of two causes. It was either being caused by past trauma or a chemical imbalance in the brain. Yoruichi's fundamentally religious past suggested that there was likely some sort of trauma at the root of the problem, so Unohana's decided to first use psychoanalysis to attempt to get to the source of the problem. Once the cause was found, then treatment could begin.
Unohana sipped at her tea as she looked over the case file sadly.
How did the poor girl end up like this?
Yoruichi closed the apartment door and locked it. Removing her jacket, she flopped down on the couch.
She had picked this apartment on purpose. It was only three blocks from Dr. Unohana's practice. Dr. Unohana was one of the leading authorities on psycho-sexual disorders, so if anyone could help Yoruichi, it would be her.
All of the treatment before had been dismal failures. They all told her just to stop it, to get control of herself, to pray. But it wasn't that simple.
Sighing Yoruichi looked around the room. The walls were blank and there were no personal effects to be found. The only furniture in the apartment was what came with it; a bed, a dress, and a desk.
Yoruichi traveled light. The only personal items she would have brought with her, her dildos, vibrators, and pornography, had been ceremoniously burned by her second to last counselor.
While often the butt of jokes and seen as a plus by males, nymphomania was a crippling disease that affected every single aspect of Yoruichi's life. It crippled her socially and perverted her though process.
For instance, when Yoruichi turned her head to the left, her eyes fell on a desk. While most would see a work station, Yoruichi saw three separate was she could pleasure herself. The desktop was at waist level, so she could rub her groin against one of the corners. If she sat down in the desk chair, she could grind herself against one of the legs. And then there were the knobs on the drawers…
It didn't just pervert your thoughts, it limited what you could have. While Yoruichi had always lived an ascetic lifestyle, in spite of her affluence, her nymphomania made it impossible for her to wholesomely enjoy that which others took for granted.
She couldn't own a computer. The amount of pornography on the internet was mind-boggling and it was far too easy to access.
Her shower nozzles had to have only one setting. If she had a bath-tub, it couldn't have water jets.
Even though they would have served as an excellent distraction, she could not own any videogame consoles. Videogame characters today were often hyper-sexualized caricatures and all of the controllers now vibrated.
Television was dangerous. Owning one gave her access to hundreds of programs, many of which contained content that bordered on soft-core pornography.
It takes a nymphomaniac to truly appreciate how saturated in sex human culture is. It was everywhere, from music, to movies, to advertisements, to even literature. There was literally no escaping it. To someone whose sexual urges were easily ignited and almost impossible to extinguish, this was a major issue.
Yoruichi simply could not lead a normal life. She had never been in a real relationship because she ended up cheating on her partners within a few days of even hours. Her condition was so severe that she had to drop out of high-school. It was hard enough being gay at her old high-school, let alone the local whore. And it didn't help matters that she was very attractive, making finding a willing partner incredibly easy.
But Yoruichi was optimistic. With her parent's money now in her control, she was now able to get the treatment that she needed. While that was good, it still didn't help her in the mean time.
I'm so bored! Yoruichi thought. Instinctively, her right hand began to snake southward. All I would have to do is undo one button and…NO! Yoruichi grabbed her right hand with her left, yanking it away. If she started now, there was no telling when she would stop.
I've got to get out of here. Yoruichi stood up and walked to the kitchen area. From the table, she opened a prescription bottle and took out one of the pills. They were anti-depressants, taken because the most common side-effect of such drugs was a decreased sex drive. For a healthy person, this meant that the need for sex almost disappeared. For Yoruichi, this made her condition almost bearable. Almost.
Putting on her orange jacket, Yoruichi exited her apartment complex and decided to walk the town.
Karakura was a small university city. The only reason it existed was because of concerned parents that were unable to bear being too far away from their children. Most of the younger people either stayed at the University or the next town over, so the demographics skewered heavily to the older end of the spectrum.
This was good for Yoruichi. With the young came sex. The fact that the town was controlled by an older, more mature crowed meant that she wouldn't have to worry about being propositioned constantly and that the salacious advertising would be kept to a minimum.
Yoruichi stopped in front of a sandwich shop window. Below the "closed" sign there hung a "help wanted" placard.
Yoruichi wasn't strapped for cash, but her inheritance wouldn't last forever. Plus, work would eat up a lot of her time.
But there were risks. A job meant interacting with people, and that was dangerous for her. Despite the fact that she knew she was a lesbian, her condition made it near impossible for her to decline anyone's advances, even a man's. The thing that people don't understand about nymphomaniacs is that they will engage in any sex, even if they don't enjoy it.
Ultimately, Yoruichi decided to discuss the idea with Dr. Unohana on her next visit. But it still wouldn't hurt to have an application ready.
Cautiously, she pushed open the door. Despite the closed sign, the door was unlocked and she could see workers cleaning tables through the glass.
"Uh, excuses me?" Yoruichi asked cautiously. A young woman with oddly braided hair looked up from the counter top she was wiping.
"Damn it Omeada!" She shouted. "I thought you locked the door!"
"I told Renji to do it!" Omeada shouted back from an indeterminate location.
"It's a door! How hard is it to lock a door?" Soifon shook her head. "I'm sorry, were closed until five." From two to five o'clock was the slowest part of the day, so the shop closed down to save money. "If you're looking for some food, try…"
"Oh, I'm not here for food." Yoruichi interjected. "I saw the help wanted sign and was wondering if I could pick up an application." The black haired woman's mood seemed to brighten at those words.
"Applications," Soifon murmured as she sifted through a stack of papers under the register. "Here," She handed Yoruichi the form.
"Thanks," Yoruichi smiled as she took the form. Even though it felt odd to think such things about a total stranger, Soifon couldn't help but notice that the dark-skinned woman had a beautiful smile.
Yoruichi put her pen down and picked up the application. She scanned over the document, checking for errors. Besides the medical conditions section that was conspicuous blank, all the information was correct.
It was strange for a twenty-one year old to have no references or past working experience, but Yoruichi had never been able to hold a job before. The medication she was on diminished her urges and evened her mood, so she felt that she would be able to hold the position. That is, if Dr. Unohana felt that it was a good idea.
Yoruichi looked at the clock on the wall. It was only seven. If she went to bed now, that would only mean that there would be more hours in the next day. Sighing in resignation, Yoruichi unfastened the top button of her jeans.
One time can't possible do any harm…