Talking Animal in Horseland, interludes

>You always thought of a ‘massage’ as indicative of pain.
>Or discomfort, whatever.
>But it was always a therapeutic sort that brought release.
>A “massage” from Fluttershy, with Ponka tagging in with the assist?
>You think you could die right now, happily too.
>Wrapped around your naked torso, whispering soothing tones in your ear, all the while couched in your lap, with only a thin modesty sheet between you her velvet smooth coat and your naked skin.
>A comfortable, unselfconscious weight across your upper thighs as she squirmed in your lap.
>Yellowquiet in turn was draped across the top of Penka Poe, working together with Ponka for some much needed relief.
>Really, two at once?
>You felt an appreciative moan building at the base of your throat, wondering how much better this would be if you if you trusted yourself to get fucked up on Equestrian pharmacology.
>Though they probably still had apothecaries instead off “no shit” pharmacists.
>With improbably strong and deft hooves, Banana Hush lightly stroked your head prompting another moan.
>Ponka breathed across your ear, hot and ragged, heart racing, face flush.
>Banana Hush, after her first tentative touch, grew bolder, readying a firm but gentle grip before starting your ‘massage.’
>By no means were the three of you alone in your “private” room, as evidenced by  one of three Night Guards assigned to you.
>The other two were outside the door.
>Anyways, you had the modesty screen up, and whatever the Night Guard thought heard or saw he could go fuck himself for all you care.
>”A-are you ready, Anonymous?” she asked, the hitch in her voice the only betrayal of nervousness.

>That first touch of hers was positively electric.
>By which you mean that your dull, deadened nerves remembered their function, coming alive all at once.
>Seeing red, swearing you could taste blood, Yellowquiet began massaging your jaw back into place.
>Without the benefit of advanced imaging technology, the best she could do was eyeball it.
>Different types of jaw fractures required actually cutting into the face in order to secure the bones, so maybe you were lucky in that you got the sort that could be handled by just lining up your jigsaw teeth.
>Yeah, some nitrous oxide would be nice.
>"Light, please"
>You did your best to go to your happy place, ignoring whatever terrible things Yellowquiet and her assistant were saying.
>Yes, Yellowquiet had a dental assistant with her.
>Turns out they don't just give out Dental tools to just anyone, being instruments of torture.
>That's reserved for state approved and board certified torture technicians, i.e. actual D.D.S’s and the like
>For accountability reasons if nothing else.
>They'd have preferred to have had you strapped down for this.
>It had taken some persistent lobbying to convince Yellowquiet that you'd not move if only it were Pinkie Pie who was holding you during the procedure.
>So you held onto Ponka, who wordlessly crooned to you as you'd asked.
>She sang as though to take herself far away and you with her.
>Even with her song and gentle rocking, so as not to rock your head during a critical moment, you couldn't completely disappear.
>Drawing you away from her warm embrace, her song fit to forget whole days, were the terse instructions from Yellowquiet.
>Either to you or her assistant.
>"Relax" had to be the worst one.
>Somewhere along the line Ponka's mien fractured and you felt wetness in your ear.
>You lost track of time, between the calls for wire, clamps, suction, spray, gauze, and whatever else.
>It was all happening to someone else.

>Eventually there stopped being new demands on your attention, though the mouth that belonged to someone else still throbbed angrily, demanding attention.
>Some pony was cleaning you up, and you were leaned forward so that the half sheet could be changed.
>Penka Poe's crooning had ceased, graduating to halting hiccoughs.
>Suspended as you were, worrying about someone else's teeth throbbing painfully, you were dimly surprised when a pair of pegasus wings settled over the two of you.
> Perhaps there's a limit to how long you can go in hurting.
>Ponka seems to have found the limit for emotional exhaustion, graduating from hiccoughs and the odd whimper to the steady inhales and exhales of sleep.
:: Thanks::
>You must have been on the money with that one, because the wings drew back from you hesitantly.
::For being willing to hurt me::
>The wings froze in shock at that.
>You reached out pathetically with your good hand, grasping only air before she took your meaning.
>The last thing you noticed before drifting into insensate unconsciousness was the shuffling of the Night Guard's hooves.

>Hand broken, face starting to swell, you remembered a friend at one of those parties.
>"Fall forward from your knees without using your hands to catch yourself, and without turning your head."
>The goal being to make the person look like a bitch when they caught themselves or turned his or her face.
>He thought himself clever and extended his jaw forward as he fell.
>Someone had told him the trick earlier, about rolling your body forward, using a rocking motion to rob momentum for a safe fall.
>Well, someone was maliciously unclear, or your buddy was terribly uncoordinated.
>With a dull thunk, he landed squarely on his jaw.
>It was only a moment before he was up, hand to face, with a look of shock on his face.
>"I fink I bwoke all 'e keef in my mouf!"

>After the hand and the face, you decided some insurance against your resolve weakening was needed.
>You could hardly decide to TALK to ponies without an intact mouth to do so.
>If you had any food in your stomach, you think it would be threatening to come back up.
>If you didn't have a sack on your had you might have even stroked your jaw in appreciation for the upcoming violence.
>Brief, sharp shock followed by persistent...unpleasantness.
>Stomach sour, you started hyperventilating in order to prepare your body for shock.
>A simple fall, and let gravity handle the rest.

>What woke you up was the uncomfortable sensation of dry mouth.
>You were acutely aware of the uncomfortable pressure holding your jaw in place.
>The clever wire contraption would need to undergo several adjustments, each round of wracking and wrangling inviting new pounding agony.
>A cool damp cloth had been placed over your swollen ruin of a hand.
>Although "ruin" might be too strong a characterization for the deliberate individual breaking of each digit.
>A single comfortable weight rested across your left side, mindful of your hand.
>Her slow steady breathing told you she was asleep.
>Pretty pony
"krch knghz" you wheezed, the closest approximation you could manage.
>Fluttershy had left sometime in between.
>Setting the bones of your hand would be a much less involved affair, once they realized that only your fingers needed setting.
>You would have hazarded the risks of untested pharmacology before trying surgery otherwise.
>To spare Yellowquiet and Ponka if nothing else.

>Needing no assistant for this, only the same strong deft hooves that tended to the broken legs of mice, this was old hat to Fluttershy.
>She had splints of varying length and bandages to secure the properly set bones without delay.
>"Look at me, Anonymous" Ponka intoned, straddling your hips and holding your head in her hooves.
>The chair-bed made this more convenient than it would have otherwise.
>You shifted uncomfortably under her, mindful again of your nakedness under the thin sheet.
>"Hey!" she repeated insistently, tapping your forehead roughly with her hoof.
> Shocked at her brazen disregard for your condition, you gradually allowed the offense to bleed away, before you realized she wasn't treating you with kid gloves.
>Focusing extra hard, you saw her clearly, stern and forbidding.
>This gave way to a ready grin, which you finally found the gumption to return.
>"Bitch, you crazy, but that's why I like you."
>The two of you both looked at Yellowquiet in shock.
>"What? N-no, it wasn't, I didn't—“ she sputtered, luminescent blush growing on her face.
> The incongruity of her current embarrassment and her prior self-assurance set you laughing peels of silent laughter, wrapping your good arm around Ponka, who joined you providing the volume you lacked.
>"Grrr-aaah! You two!"
>She puffed her cheeks in adorable anger.
>It was long minutes before all three of you had recovered enough at the same time to get on with things.
>There were several false starts, all said, where one, two, or all three of you resumed your respective laughter or frustration.

>Hand proffered to Yellowquiet, Ponka on your left side, you hid your face in her cotton candy mane.
>It was for the benefit of both of you.
>You didn't want to have to watch a marshmallow hoof do terrible things to your hand, and she might lose her nerve if she had to risk seeing your discomfort on your face as she manipulated broken bone in place with a series of violent short sharp tugs.
>You feel Penka Poe stirring on top of you when you realize why.
>Idly, you had been "lipping" her pink poufy mane.
>Well, if she’s not going to object, you don’t see why not?
>”I hope you don’t mind, Penka,” Yellowquiet volunteered.
>“Uh…, no it’s fine.”
>“Okay, Anonymous.  You’re going to feel a bit of pressure here.  Please confirm that you’ve heard and understood the previous statement.”
>Lovely, like a million other Terms of Service agreements you’ve agreed to.
::don’t understand::
“Your fingers have been fractured, and—“
>Interrupting her with a non-verbal communication must have been some sort of achievement.
::understand::
>If Yellowquiet’s friends hadn’t been inured to her talking to animals for years now, Penka may have thought she was unbalanced by this tableau.
::don’t understand::
“What is it you don’t understand, Anonymous?”
::bother to explain, ask permission::
::do it anyways::
>“Where is this coming from, Anonymous?”  she asked.  Ponka was between the two of you, so the best she could do was rub her face on your wrist.
::scared, hurt::
::talking worse::
>“Okay.  I think that’s enough discussion then.”

>“I want you to count backwards from five, whereupon I will go about reducing the first break.  From there I will be able to set it properly.”
>Oh god, she’s going to do it early to surprise you.
::five::
::four::
::three::
>Here it comes.  You inhale deeply in anticipation.
::two::
>Why?
::one::
>What? Huh…you release the breath you’d been holding.
“Zero”
>And there was the first tug.
>What you were first aware of was the feeling of intense pressure being relieved, accompanied by a slight pop.
>Inadvertently short of breath, you didn't even have the opportunity to powerfully exhale in response to the pain.
>Best you can do is a high-pitched groan accompanied by scrabbling at Ponka with your uninjured hand.
>Your current struggle was keeping your hand open in spite of the desire to grab an available handful of soft pony flesh for squeezing non-sexually.
>At least you don't have to look Yellowquiet in the face after that convoluted thought.
>"Pinkie, can you offer Anonymous something to squeeze? I'd normally offer a patient something to bite down on but, well..." she trailed off awkwardly.
>"That's a bit forward wouldn’t you say, Fluttershy?" Ponka asked coyly.

>You did without, opting for just using an open palm pressing against the squishy marshmallow skin of Penka.
>“I need you count backwards from five again, please.”
::five::
::four::

>Still sweating, Yellowquiet daubed your brow again.  She had gone for the conventional surprise the second time around.
>Individually splinted and bandaged, at least you’d have use of your fingers again.
>You could only appreciate how much the swelling had gone down by how much it had returned in earnest after being ‘reduced’ by Banana Hush.
>Listening to the motions of Fluttershy as she went about cleaning up after the procedure was complete, you were mindful of the flittering of Penka Poe’s ear.
>You tentatively worked your tongue to clear all of her cotton candy hair from your mouth before expelling it all at once with a puff of air.
“Pfft!”
>Her ear twitched in response, but that was the only response you could see.
>Your hand had retreated to a tolerable aching glow in your own mind.
>Which as a plus had made your teeth a distant second for now.
>The pony on your left shifted again, to nuzzle deeper against your body.
>Yeah, you’d need to have your bandages changed again tomorrow.

>Some ponies are milling about again.
>”Are we ready to begin?” your ever present Night Guard asks.
>Sensing a disturbance in the force, you call out
::Twilight::
>”He’s calling for you, Twilight.”
::No Autismpony::
>”No wait, he’s objecting to your presence.”
>”What!  Why?”
::Her face is ugly.  Hurts to see::
>She was only a vague, purple outline, but whatever.
>”That’s not very nice, Anonymous.”
::Well, it’s killing me::
>”Ha, ha, ha Mister funny guy.”
>"Argh!  Can you just tell us exactly what he's saying?"
::that's a bad idea, purple pony::
>"Ugh...okay, 'that's a bad idea, purple pony'"
>"WHAT!? Now see here, yellow pony—“ started one annoying surfer dude accent, from the other side of a screen.

>”Sir,” the Night Guard interrupted, “I believe those are the words of ‘Anonymous’.  And I believe you’ve exceeded the parameters we agreed upon earlier regarding this session.”
>"Twilight Sparkle is an informal channel for Shining Armor and the Princesses to keep tabs on the investigation.”
>Pausing to wet her lick her lips nervously, Yellowquiet mouthed a silent apology to Twilight before continuing.
>“Unless your instructions were that transparent about leaking the details of an ongoing investigation, Officer, it's only fair to the guards under investigation that she be barred from these sessions."
>Twilight was in full squawking mode now.
>”And the Captain should be reminded that this is an open investigation, the details of which will be presented in full later.  ‘Undue Influence’ are words he should remember,” Yellowquiet finished, all the menace you were failing to convey from your bed also absent from Banana Hush’s voice.
>He’s probably not that bad, but when he entrusts the care of a prisoner brought in at the special request of the combined Diarchy and decides to leave it to obvious third-stringers, he can find a fence-post to sit on and spin.
>“If that's true, what about these two?"
>"Strictly speaking, you could wait until I'm recovered enough in order to exclude Fluttershy here from these sessions.  You'll have to consult with her extensively, however, since she's the only resident authority on Anonymous you've got.  Who else do you have to weigh in on the trustworthiness of anything I say?"
>"What about this other one, Miss Pinkamena Diane Pie?"
>"Hey, that's rude!"
>That’s your name, Ponka.
>"I like her. Keep her around as a carrot for my continued cooperation.”
>Yellowquiet also failed to convey your glib tone here.
>"She's also the author of one of two documents that will be central in your investigation.  So play it how you will."
>It was a fuckthepolice kind of day.

::Banana Hush, pls::
>"But Anonymous, you don't--"
::Yellowquiet::
>"I don't know anypony else who--"
::pls::
>"You can't be naked all the time, Anonymous!" she exclaimed.
>You heard the uncomfortable shuffle of hooves, a reminder that you weren’t alone in here, despite the privacy screen.
::took my clothes::
>"They're evidence for the investigation. Yes, including your disguise robe thing," she finished, forestalling your next objection.
>Dang, you really liked that thing.
>Though it was tough to imagine using it for years.
>It could only really work in a larger thoroughfare, since looking different in a backwoods like Ponyville was enough to get detained by Autismpony.
>"And no, wearing a blanket all the time isn't an option either."
::toga::
>She ignored your cunning argument for now, and your winsome broken tooth grin.
>"So that is why Rarity will here shortly. To get you appropriate attire in the event you ever plan on leaving."

>RaRaRa swept into your private room like a tempest.
>By which you mean you had several hours warning followed by hullabaloo just outside your room, and then she was here.
>"Surely you don't mean me," began the muffled conversation just outside.
>You didn't hear the Night Guards' response, but you looked over at Yellowquiet with a deadpan expression.
::magic horse::
>"I-I'm sure things will be fine."
::window::
>You pointed with your chin, like a Twilight character showing emotional depth.
>The inner door finally opened, but your Guards weren't done having their say.
>"Miss Rarity, it's important that any details you may hear today be kept in the strictest confidence because..." blah blah blah, you spoon fed him those reasons earlier.
>She didn't appear cowed by the gravity being impressed upon her, appearing thrilled instead.
>There was a good pony there.
>You just weren't likely to see it.
>It's not like you spent a night in the dirt with her after all.
>Bright-eyed, but sleek-maned, the pale horse turned to you, burdened with the items of her office.

>The only thing better than being seen as a visitor to the palace was being seen called upon to do so in order to practice her craft.
>"Alright, what can I do for you today?"
>"We were looking to get some replacement clothes for Anonymous, so that he can have something to wear for pleasant company."
>Or for standing before the combined Diarchy again.
>"Oho, and what does our Talking Animal friend have to say about this?" she asked, finally starting to wheedle for details.
>"He doesn't, Rarity.  He's still recovering from his procedure, so—“
>"That's not what Twilight told me.  She said," she continued, conspiratorially now, "that you could talk to him."
::clever horse::
>It’s not like you hadn’t said it yourself before this whole mess.
>"Anonymous, please," she admonished, turning to address you. "That's rude."
>"Oh, what did he say Fluttershy?" she asked, excited that the mute creature had found words for her when he had none for himself, instead of offended that those words may have been less than flattering.
>"He admires how clever you are, RaRaRa," she responded, letting your instead-of name for her slip.
>Tried to give Yellowquiet a baleful look, but she wasn't paying attention.
>Or pointedly ignoring the look, whatever.
::magic horse::
>Not that she could touch you with it, but either you or she would be going out the window should she try, and you were hoping Yellowquiet would warn RaRaRa about it already.
>“Um, Rarity, just so you’re clear, Anonymous doesn’t—“
>"Yes, yes, I'm aware of the role of boundaries played in that nasty business earlier.  Whatever the reasons, your friend here doesn't like magic, which means I'll have to be more hooves-on and tactile than normal."
>Oh wow.
>With a short sheet around your waist, you rolled out of bed to stand before RaRaRa.
>"My, you're a tall one," she continued, letting a bit of seriousness enter her tone for the first time.  "Chest, shoulders, neck, hips..." she rattled off to herself, beginning her first sketches and notations, donning her glasses as she began in earnest.

>You wondered how she was going to handle the height difference.
>For good preliminary measurements, she insisted on getting you as a standing figure.
>"Fluttershy, darling, would you be so kind as to fetch a stool? I can't quite reach some areas of your delightful friend here without my usual milieu of magic."
>You expected this sooner, to be honest.
>”Yes, just down the hall, third door on the right.”

>“Now while she’s gone, dearie, I think we have an opportunity to cover some of the more, ahem, indelicate measurements without embarrassing poor Fluttershy.”
>You raise an eyebrow, but you can’t tell if she can read your facial expressions.
>“It’s one thing to encounter an unclad body as part of clinical duties in a  medical setting, but  under the circumstances she would be a voyeur to a process whose goal is to deliberately make you look good, if I do say so myself.”
>She continued modifying her sketches with annotations, but she kept glancing your way over the top of her board.
>“So if it’s all the same to you, I’d like to handle your inseam measurements, thigh measurements, etc.,  before Fluttershy has to witness any more of the indelicate swaddling and prodding than she has already been subject to.”
>She gestures to your sheet, with a vague gesture.
>“I’ll make my first priority some modesty undershorts for our next sessions, and some functional hospital wear for the duration of your stay, but for now if you would…”

>You doffed your sheet for now.
>Though to be honest, the liniment-daubed bandages probably had enough material for several articles of clothing.
>They just didn’t cover anything important.
>So you stood before her.
>She gave you a critical eye, adding a few more notations to her sketches, before grabbing her tape measure and going to work.
>Well, she knew what she was doing, so she could hardly be blamed for whatever business of yours she encountered.
>Think boring thoughts.  Dusty books.  A library.  Librarian with glasses and—
>HELLO!
>With an unladylike snort, Rarity completed that particular measurement, and continued to safer practices.

>Yellowquiet returned with the stool without incident, bit RaRaRa didn't even pretend to need it.
>She instead had Banana Hush assist with things too high.
>"Yes, just like that dearie," she said encouragingly, as Fluttershy drew the measuring tape around your chest.  “Breathe in, deep—“
>Arms extended to your sides, you inhaled deeply.
>”Just like that!”  Taking another quick note, she turned her attention back to you
>You were happy to lower your hand again, to take any undue pressure off your fingers.

>Yes, RaRaRa inadvertently teabagged herself using your balls.  And from the sound of it, had herself a whiff while down there.
>At least you were getting some clothes again.
>Maybe you’d get your shoes back too.