The Life And Times Of Bonding Heart
My name is Bonding Heart, and... I am a sex adviser.
What does that mean? Well, when a pony has trouble in bed, they can call on me to help diagnose the issue. Diagnose. Not cure. I just want to be clear on that, I don't just hop under the covers with them. Most of the time it's not necessary, I just need to correct a few misconceptions, suggest some methods, tip my hat and walk away.
It's not my primary job either. I do work at the hospital, mostly helping various ponies come to terms with their injuries or... the loss of loved ones. I'm the comforting nurse, although of course I have medical training, and... the adviser thing is sort of on the side. Care Pump doesn't mind it, but it creeps Crimsonpump out. Well, that and... I'm getting ahead of myself. The point is, I only get around four or five appointments in a month, and most of those are just repeats that go along the lines of "am I wrong for being such and such" and I have to hold their hooves and tell them they are a good pony.
Acting, kids. A useful skill in any situation.
How did I get into this business? Well, way back when I was a teen I tried the whole dating thing, kiss kiss, come to my bedroom hot stuff, woo woo. Except I never got to woo woo, because, uh... let's just say because. After the first few rejections I dropped out of the dating scene entirely, which actually gave me a great outsider's perspective. So a bunch of mares, and not a few stallions, would use me as a sort of dating soundboard, and us being teenagers and all.... well, I got to do a lot of thinking of what went into sex, and it became apparent that I could keep helping out as I grew up.
So, yeah, I took a few psych classes, printed up some flyers, and here I am.
What kind of advice do I give? That's a bit more complicated. In my general experience, though, sexual problems come from five sources: Peer Pressure, Misconceptions, Identity Confusion, Trauma, and Kinks. Peer pressure is the easiest do deal with; sex is an intimate act and all I have to do is reinforce that the pony should only do it when they feel is right. You'd be surprised at how many ponies I've actually told to cut back, and even more so how many I've suggested to go more often--shame runs both ways I guess...
Then there's Misconceptions, which is the primary bulk of my lectures. See, in my mind there are three basic dimensions of sexuality: Attraction, Libido, and Attachment. Attraction is a scale of homo-to-hetero sexuality; I remember reading about a system where 100/0 was perfectly straight and 0/100 was perfectly gay, but most ponies are 90/10s. Usually I have to deal with ponies who are closer to the center than they thought, although there has been the occasional closeted pony in denial... or bisexuals who think they should be exclusive. And that doesn't begin to go into the complexities of cross-species romance....
The other two dimensions, I think, have received entirely too little attention in general media. Libido can range from completely asexual to utterly nymphomaniac, for instance, but a lot of ponies want to think the average is on the high end because of all the romance novels. Me, I kinda think it's more low-median... although it has a positive relationship with Attachment, since most of the high-sex relationships are long-term couples--or yes, groups--that remain exclusive. Of course a lot of people think attachment is love, and... it generally is, not going to lie, but there are a few odd cases that had me reaching for the police.
That leads me into Identity Confusion and Trauma, two issues that can fit together more often than not. Don't get me wrong, sometimes a pony just feels wrong in their own skin without being traumatized, and sometimes horrible things happen to a pony who's confident in their own identity... but if something about the bedroom just doesn't feel right to them, I generally schedule a session with a more professional psychiatrist on the down low, so we can get to the bottom of the issue. You have no idea how many ponies have expressed relief at the idea they were born into the wrong tribe, or even just the wrong species, and having somebody understand that.... It's not really sex advice, but it does help them figure out what they really want when they want.
And of course... kinks. Ooooh boy, kinks. They're fetishes gone bad, things that should merely be 'sexy' turned into absolute necessity. It's a bit hard to work out what kinks a person has, if they have any at all, because a lot of the time they either don't know about it or they just feel downright embarrassed. Kinks make up less than eight percent of my problems, but everypony thinks that they're all I talk about. Yeesh.
All that aside from the physical performance issues...
Now that you know what I do, I should get to the point of all this. I am sworn to maintain the privacy of my clients, excluding matters where I have to call authorities or doctors. Nevertheless... some of them have suggested I form a book, of sorts, about how I helped them and all that. I was hesitant, of course. But they suggested that if I review their own cases, I might... well, be able to get over my own problems. Heh. So, that's what this book is going to be; case reports of willing clients, with their names changed for their own safety. I know a good portion of you are picking this up just for clop, so I'm going to warn you: there's not a lot of it. Just me, talking to ponies, about sex.
And occasionally drugs.
And in one instance, rock and roll. But that one was really weird.
Author's Note
Ladies and gentlemen, it's an OC fic!
The Life And Times Of Bonding Heart
I'd like to start off with this one for a number of reasons. Firstly, it has a very happy ending. Secondly, it was one of my earliest cases in this town--not the first since I've moved here, but the first in the group "approved by clients for release." Of course I'm still going to keep their name different, and alter... a few other things. You know, for privacy reasons.
Anywho, Plowshare was a fine stallion--is, actually, both in terms of personality and looks. Of course that meant that a lot of rumors and not too few mares buzzed around him, but nothing ever got confirmed. So when I received a letter from him, I assumed the issue was something along the lines of him wanting to know how to let the gals down. Still, I sent a letter back, unmarked of course, we set up a time and place for his appointment--it would be at his residence and place of work where he could talk to me without too much risk of somepony stumbling on us--and I got ready for anything.
I still remember the way he quirked his eyebrow when I trotted up. "...You always wear that dress?"
There are some situations that always call for an eye-roll. "Do you always wear that [distinctive item of clothing]?" I countered.
He gave an affirmative answer, rolling his own eyes.
"Then I see no reason I can't dress up."
"Fair enough." He shrugged, glancing around his workplace. "Just worried you'd get it dirty around here."
"I work at a hospital, I've seen a lot worse than this."
Plowshare chuckled a bit at that, which was a good sign. I could tell he was a bit nervous about whatever he had called me for, but at least it wasn't me that was making him uncomfortable. A patient that didn't trust a doctor, or even a diagnostician, was a risk to themselves and the ponies around them. Making sure they felt safe was just a part of the job, and a few well placed quips... well, it helped a lot.
Still, I felt it might be best to engage him in something familiar before pressing for details. "You know, I've always been a bit curious how you did this. I mean," I nodded at his device, "I know how that works, but I am a tad curious what happens next."
"Well, after I prepare the workplace, I place the product carefully. Has to be spaced just right."
"Fascinating. It takes awhile for the product to develop, I know, but--"
"Heh, not as long as you'd think." He sighed. "A lot like... well, my problem, I guess."
A door was open and I slipped my hoof in. "Somepony trying to take things too fast for you?"
Plowshare frowned. "No, trust me, that ain't the problem." His ears flicked back and, for a moment, he pressed his eyes shut. "Ain't it at all."
Ah. "Are you trying to take things too fast for her?"
"No! That would be--" He shook his head. "I'm an upstanding pony. I would never force myself on a mare."
"I don't doubt it," I assured him. "I just... if you really want me to help you, I need to know the actual problem."
Plowshare sighed, giving me a reluctant nod and biting his lip. In my own head I began to count.
"...there's this mare."
Three seconds from initial prod. "Pretty girl?"
"Drop dead gorgeous." He gave out a happy sigh. "All natural too, no makeup or anything."
I tilted my ears forward. "Drop dead, huh? How many heart attacks has she caused?"
Plowshare snorted. "Wouldn't be too surprised if she put a few ponies into the hospital just by giving them a glance."
Oh wow. Either he had it bad, or this girl was a damned supermodel.
"Quite the mare, then."
"Yes. We, ah... we've been dating for a couple weeks." Plowshare blushed. "It's not just how she looks, though. It's.. she's the gentlest soul ever. Soft spoken, nervous... um... but when she's dealing with other's problems she's as firm as a rock. She tries to find a solution that works for everybody, and by Celestia does she find one. And she's not adverse to tedious work, either. She'll keep plugging away until something gets done, no matter what. SOmepony like that... sompony who just gives and gives and never asks for anything but the happiness of others... well, she's just amazing."
"Wow." I nodded, a gentle smile on my face. "No wonder you love this mare."
"Yeah..."
"...Still not hearing the problem."
He blushed a bit. "Well... I mean... we've only been dating for a few weeks and I... well, I'm getting these urges! I mean I don't act on them, but sometimes, I can't help but look at..." His hoof waved in the vague but very familiar outline that all stallions have wired into their subconscious. "But that's wrong, isn't it? I should treat her like a person--I do treat her like a person--not some object of..."
Guilt over attraction. It's a common problem, believe it or not. A lot of ponies view their primal instincts as something to be subdued, and whenever those instincts conflict with their code of ethics they feel as though they've failed themselves, that they've succumbed to the dark and wicked temptations of the natural world... even if they haven't acted on those instincts yet. Of course there's the whole debate over whether attraction should automatically lead to action, but that wasn't the issue here at all.
"So what you're saying is, your heart wants one thing and your loins want another?"
Plowshare bit his lip. "I.... well... they both want the same mare, they're just at odds at how to treat her."
"Hmmm." I tapped my chin thoughtfully. "You know, since this does involve a relationship, I think I should have a talk with the other pony before I make a diagnosis. I'm not going to bring up our meeting or anything," I added quickly, "everything you've said will remain private, but... I can't in good conscience advise you about this without knowing the full situation. So... can you give me a name?"
Plowshare gave me a long, cautious look.
"I'm just saying... I can give you advice without talking to her, but I don't know if my advice will cause her harm unless I actually know how she feels about the situation." I shrugged. "Believe me, one-sided tips can ruin a relationship. I learned that the hard way..."
He took a moment to consider that. Then he sighed. "Alright, I guess I can tell you...."
***
Deweyes.
Mentally, I was kicking myself. Of course it was Deweyes! She was the only pony around who fit the description: Sweet as sugar, Soft as satin, and Hot as hell. (Minotaur expression, it's complicated.) The girl was practically a dryad in both looks and personality; her only real flaw was a crippling social anxiety that only served to make her cuter in the eyes of potential special someponies. Well that, and apparently on the rare occasions she lost her temper she REALLY lost it.... not that I'd seen that happen.
Luckily enough for me, it was very easy to arrange a little meeting with her. She, like most ponies, had a job to pay for her home and groceries and whatnot. And that job required her to sometimes come to the homes of her clients. Was it a little underhooved? Yes, but it was only me and her, and while the situation could easily become very awkward and uncomfortable if handled incorrectly I was... fairly confident that I could keep it from going south.
"So... you seem to really like animals."
Deweyes flicked her wings as she examined my pet iguana. "Oh, um, yes. I've been really fond of my animal friends ever since I got my cutie mark."
Her animal friends.... some ponies would suggest, not entirely unreasonably, that Deweyes was using her assortment of non-pony residents as a substitute social life, to make up for her social anxiety around actual ponies. Maybe it was true, but it didn't seem to affect her actual friendships... and I would never suggest taking her away from what she loved. Still...
"I guess they must be better then most ponies." I let out a carefully crafted sigh of regret. "They don't demand you fit in, after all."
She shot me a look. "Ponies aren't all that bad. Some of them are very kind and... and nice!"
"I guess. I mean, there's you..." I shrugged. "But there have to be so many stallions just walking up and trying to hit on you, I don't know how you can stand it."
Deweyes blushed a bit. "Well... not... exactly. They're all a little bit nervous... since, well... My coltfriend can be very intimidating."
Good. Just a little more prodding... "What, is he some sort of... brute?"
"No! He's the sweetest, kindest pony ever!"
Interesting. Generic, but not a bit of hesitation... "Sweet and kind sounds good, but there's got to be more, right?" I asked ever so innocently.
"Well... he's also very wise. I mean, he's a little shy, he doesn't talk a lot, but what he says always has serious meaning. And he's devoted to his family, he loves them all! A pony like that, a pony that would do anything for those he cares about... I think I'm very lucky." She stroked my iguana's spines. "And... well... he's not bad to look at either..."
I grinned. "Oh that's always a plus. Good looks, nice pony, you are very lucky. How long have you been with this wonder stallion?"
"Oh.... a few, um, weeks..." She blushed. "They've been very... nice. I mean, I've known him for longer then that, obviously, but.... Well, I wouldn't mind if these past few weeks led to something eventually."
"Something more permanent?" I suggested quietly.
"Well... yes. I mean, I know not to rush these things, but--"
"But you were such good friends before," I filled in, "and you kind of think that you already know enough you'd be ready to say yes."
She gave me a shocked look. "Well... yes. I mean I'm a little nervous about, um, you know, nights together, but...." She smiled and looked away, her blush deepening. "Well... I... might be, just a little bit... um... looking forward to it?"
"Just a little bit?" I gave her a sly little grin. "Deweyes, nothing that's said in this home will ever be heard outside that door."
She coughed. "Well... um. Maybe... just more then a little bit? I mean, I might have, um, imagined... Oh dear Celestia, I'm saying this out loud, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to--"
"Hey hey hey." I put a hoof on her shoulder. "I am not going to tell anypony about this. I swear the unbreakable oath, nothing you said will come out of my mouth. But... A little honesty with your special somepony might be worthwhile..."
"Oh, I could never--! I don't want to scare him off!" She shook her head, turning back to my pet. "I mean, he's got very strong morals. If I even suggested... no, I think I should keep my wants to myself. Maybe if he asks, but not before."
And there it was. They were both so into each other it hurt, but they were trying to follow the rules. Don't get me wrong, there's a reason for some rules; you have to have a lot of trust to get intimate, and that means making sure they trust you and you trust them and the unwritten rules (as well as a few written ones) help determine that. Sometimes, though, the rules just cause too much hesitation and heartache.
Of course, since Deweyes and Plowshare were both choosing to follow the rules, I couldn't stop them. Being forced to follow the rules by some outside force would require intervention, but if they were choosing? Well, it would hurt more for them to stop than it would to keep following, since they would have felt they had betrayed themselves, and that would poison their relationship and things would just go downhill.
Luckily enough, there was an easy way to solve this situation without breaking the rules.
***
"You want me to what?!"
"Propose," I repeated. "Trust me, Plowshare, now is a perfect time."
"Look, miss Heart, I know your job kind of requires you to encourage things sometimes, but me and Deweyes have only been dating for a couple weeks!"
"But you've known each other for much longer," I pointed out. "Look, there's two parts to dating: Getting to know each other, which you'd already done, and making absolutely sure you both love each other, which I can as a professional state yeah, you do. Once those two parts are done, you get engaged, get married, and then live for each other."
"But how do I know I love her?" Plowshare begged. "How can I be sure that it's not just a passing fancy?"
"Well... the thing about love... it's..." I considered. "It's defined, in all its forms, by the need to give yourself to someone or something. Like, you love your family, so you give your time and your hard work and you listen to them, right?"
"Yes."
"And Lust, well, it's the complete opposite. It's where you want someone or something for yourself. But it's a little more complicated then that, you know?"
"...No. I don't know."
"Okay, okay okay." I held up a hoof. "Let's say for sake of argument you love Deweyes. You want to give everything to her, your time, your home, your body--no, don't interrupt, that's perfectly normal! But you know, both morally and instinctively, you cannot give her everything if she does not accept it. So, on some level, you want her to want you, and from that comes a sort of... well, purified lust."
"What?"
"Ponies that are romantically in love, willing to give anything to the other, also tend to lust after each other, wanting the other to willingly give themselves." I prodded his chest firmly. "WILLINGLY. That's the critical part, that's what separates lovelust from baselust. It is a very difficult distinction to make, but... well, I'm pretty sure that's what you're feeling. Lust born of true love, not lust born of mere physical attraction." A sigh escaped my lips. "Lotta ponies don't know the difference and you end up with... bad situations. But you and Deweyes.... Well, my diagnoses is that you're madly in love with each other but scared to push too far, and my prescription is a wedding dress, a tuxedo, and a couple of bracelets--gems optional."
Plowshare bit his lip. "I... I don't know, it just seems... I mean... I think I understand what you're saying, but--"
"Hey, I'm just an adviser. You don't have to do anything I say." I patted his shoulder. "But I wouldn't mind being invited to any theoretical wedding that might possibly happen."
He rolled his eyes. "Well... thanks for your thoughts, anyway. I've got to get back to work, though--"
"Say no more, I'm out of your mane." With a cheerful little whistle I sauntered off. The seed had been planted, now all I had to do was wait.
***
The poor stallion apparently agonized over the decision for a whole two weeks. And then he spent three more days trying to arrange the perfect proposal, and then had to wait four days for the right time--Deweyes apparently managed to actually shout out a yes and hug him before going into a small panic coma--And then the two of them tried to work out a date and all the arrangements which consisted of inviting his family (huge) and her family (not so huge) and friends got involved and something apparently happened involving the floral arrangements that necessitated a spa visit and a hospital visit and then Deweyes decided her animal friends should attend too, since her side of the aisle was rather empty, which apparently caused a small panic among some ponies...
All in all, it took three months from my diagnoses for the two of them to actually walk down the aisle! Weddings are a tedious and complicated business designed to test the couple to their limits, I know this, but... there's testing and then there's just crazy.
And yet... the two of them looked so happy up there, Plowshare in his father's tux and Deweyes in a dress that a friend perfectly crafted for her, staring into each otehr's eyes... Sometimes I wish I could find somebody like that for me.
Of course, since I was there, and they were newlyweds, I decided they might need a couple tips. It took me some manuvering, but I did manage to get them pinned during the reception.
"Congratulations!" I smiled brightly at them. "This whole thing... well, you two make a very lovely couple."
Deweyes blushed and smiled. "Oh, um, thank you. I... hear that I have you to thank for, uh... getting this going?"
"Nah, all I did was accelerate what I already saw happening." I waved a hoof dismissively. "I have an eye for this sort of thing, and enough brains to give the right kind of tips. Speaking of which, about your honeymoon--"
Plowshare gave me a firm look. "I think we can figure that out on our own, miss Heart."
"Well, yes, you could," I allowed, "but I do have a bit of knowledge about this sort of thing, and I thought you two might not want to just jump in blind..."
The two of them looked at each other. Deweyes put a wing around her new husband's shoulder. "Um... could you excuse us for a moment?"
I nodded politely.
They turned around and had a very furiously whispered conversation. I decided to sip my champagne while they talked. It was actually quite good, Plowshare's family had some interesting connections.
After about two minutes, the couple turned back to me. Deweyes coughed. "Well... we are... we don't have, um... experience, so... maybe one or two little tidbits couldn't hurt?"
"Alright." I took a breath. "First of all, do not skip to the main event. Foreplay exists not only to express love, but to get the body pumped up."
"That seems reasonable," Plowshare managed.
I gave him a smile. "Also, little tidbit, mares have multiple climaxes. Average is three to a stallion's, but you don't want to go right in before her first because it'll be painful for both of you."
"Ahhhh..."
I turned to Deweyes. "Speaking of pain, yes, it will hurt a little bit. But only a little! Work with him, keep up the rhythm, and you'll really find that it's worth it."
She blushed a bit. "Oh... um..."
"Oh, Plowshare! Just a tidbit, there's a little sticky-up bit in there, that is the happy button. Remember that!"
"Urruuuuuh...."
"Oh, and Deweyes, your tail is... kind of long, so I don't know exactly how gunky it'll get. You might want to take a shower after--"
"I... I think we've got enough." Deweyes bit her lip. "So, uh, thank you Bonding Heart. That's all very... useful!" She gave me an awkward smile.
"Alrighty then." I smiled right back. "Just a fair warning, I'm only giving you this advice for free cause it's your wedding day. If you ever need anything else, well, Plowshare knows my rates." I sipped the rest of my champagne.
Very. Very. Slowly.
Then I turned around.
"Ah, miss Heart?" Plowshare coughed. "Before you go, um... what do I do if... you know... I'm too, uh... big for her?"
***
So, there it is. I got called to cure a symptom, and ended up getting two ponies together. That was one of my easiest, most fun, and most rewarding commissions.
Which made the next case I'll publish all the more... frustrating.
The Life And Times Of Bonding Heart
Case File: Thighkicker, first appointment
In case you're wondering, yes, I did have fun figuring out what I was going to call this chapter. But you know, Thighkicker is kind of a good way to define this mare; she's muscular everywhere, don't get me wrong, but there can be no denying the powerful curves just in front of the tail. Only the straightest of straight mares wouldn't notice.
Sorry, just had to get that out of my system.
So, a few weeks after Plowshare's wedding, I got another letter from one of his relatives. Like I said, large family. It was actually pretty short and sweet: I need your advice. Meet me at [a place and a time]. Here's the pay.
I had to send a letter back explaining that I actually had another appointment then, and we should reschedule for two days later.
Her reply? Sure thing.
Straight to the point.
So, eventually, I went up and met Thighkicker in person. And there she was, sitting at a table just waiting for me, sometimes glancing over her shoulder to make sure that nopony was watching. Honestly, why do ponies do that? It makes them look suspicious, which kind of defeats the point of them trying to avoid attention.
With a roll of my eyes, I pulled out a chair and sat down. "So. Here we are."
"Mmmhmm." Thighkicker glanced around again. "Listen... Plowshare told me how big a help you were in figuring out the situation with Deweyes."
"All I did was clear the fog from his eyes," I explained oh so humbly. "Once that was done, he just had to follow his heart."
"Yeah, he's a good stallion..." The mare blushed a bit, fiddled with her hooves for a moment, took a deep breath, and looked me in the eyes. "Right. I've put this off long enough. I... something is wrong with me, miss Heart--"
My hoof was instantly in her snout. "No. You don't get to say something's wrong with you. Only I get to say that, and then only after I've heard the full situation. I'm the licensed professional here." With a snort, I pulled my hoof back. "Start over."
Thighkicker blinked for a bit. "Ah... well. Look, what I mean is... I..." She tapped her hooves together. "When my friends notice a stallion, they'll say he has a cute rump or great withers or 'look at the feathers on that one!' Don't get me wrong, that's not all they notice--they like good ponies, no matter the looks--but me, I just notice how they act. How kind they are, how... confident... I mean I want fit pony, all things considered, but it's not what I shop for if you get my drift."
I nodded, smiling to myself. "I think I can see where you're going." This would be easy peasy.
"Yeah, I just wanted somepony else to tell me I was gay."
...or maybe it wouldn't be that easy.
"Thighkicker," I said slowly, putting a hoof on hers. "You are not gay."
The mare stared at me. "What... what are you talking about? I just told you I wasn't attracted to stallions!"
"And that's all well and good, but--"
"If I'm not attracted to stallions, I have to be attracted to mares." She crossed her forelegs, blowing her mane out of her eyes. "Simple as that."
I frowned, keeping my hoof from making a journey to my head through sheer force of will. "Thighkicker, have you ever heard of a false dichotomy?"
"Yeah, it's when--" Thichkicker snorted. "Oh, hay no. There's stallions, and there's mares. What, are you saying that I've got it for griffons or something?"
"Okay, first of all, trans-species romance isn't wrong if both members are consenting--"
"They have barbs on their dicks!"
"Secondly," I growled, " most of them have those surgically removed, and more importantly that is not what I'm talking about! You're not transpeciesist, you're asexual." I crossed my forelegs. "Simple. As. That."
Thighkicker tilted her head. "Asexual."
"Yep."
"...never heard that word before."
"It's not... well, it's not been fully researched," I admitted with a chagrined sigh. "Mostly because it's only been recently recognized. The long and short of it, though, is that you simply don't want... well, okay, maybe you do want sex, but your mind isn't seeking out a sexual partner based on their body." I shrugged. "You said you notice how stallions act, not how they look?"
"Yeah..."
"Now, can you tell me in all honesty that you've looked at a mare? Really looked?"
"Well yeah!" Thighkicker admitted with a blush. "I mean there are some mares, they're just so elegant and charming and they have such sweet voices and I'm not mentioning anything about how they look, am I?"
"No hon. No you're not."
"Huh." Thighkicker looked at her hooves, her brow furrowed as she frowned intently. "I never thought about just... being alone all my life." She hung her head. "This is... not good."
"I took in a deep breath, trying to keep myself calm. "Thighkicker, it's alright if you don't find yourself wanting of needing something that other people want or need--"
"No, you don't understand." The mare looked up. "Plowshare got married to Deweyes, and that means that I'm open now. It's... I can't just turn everyone who comes knocking away, I have to pick somebody!"
"No, you don't have to--"
"Yes I do! I've seen what happens when you don't have family around..." She wrapped her forelegs around herself, shivering. "I don't want to go crazy like my great aunt did. She collects... everything. Furniture, cats, books... No. No, I am not going down that road. I have to marry somepony..."
"Look, you don't have to lose your family just because you remain unmarried. I haven't met your great aunt, of course, but--"
"And I do want foals some day," Thighkicker murmured. "And... and how would granny react if I just... no. No, I've got to find somepony."
"You are blowing this totally out of proportion--"
"It's time I take this seriously," she stated in a firm tone, snapping her hooves down. "Thanks for the conversation, doc, your money's on the table. But I'm not going to give up."
"I never said you should give up! All I said was and you're walking away and ignoring me like a self-obsessed idiot. Fine. Fine." My hoof traveled to my cranium. "You know what, fine. Go do whatever it is you want to do. I'll just wait till you need to call me again."
***
That certainly wasn't the last I heard of Thighkicker. Believe it or not, she jumped into the dating scene with almost religious zeal, every suitor being analyzed methodically for at least three dates before the inevitable breakup. Actually drummed me up a lot of business... although I'm not entirely proud of that. In retrospect, I should have gone after her and forced some sense down her throat.
But what happened happened. And she would eventually come to her senses. Not for a while though.
And, anyway, I had other patients to tend to between the two meetings. Some of those, I feel, might have influenced how Thighkicker thought about things before our second meeting, so... I think maybe it's best I put this file down for now. The next appointment really hit me by surprise, though. Especially since...
Well...
I think I should just talk through it all.