If there was one emotion Wild absolutely despised, it was anxiety. It spread like a disease, affecting everything around it, making things more difficult than he believed they had any right to be. It seemed like it had no reason to exist other than to spite him and prevent him from achieving anything with his life. However, as much as he hated it, he couldn’t just magic it away. Even with real magic, it was simply impossible to do it. Wild suspected it would involve direct manipulation of a brain, and that was definitely not something one should be able to freely do. The possibilities made him shudder, especially when he remembered how commonplace mind control, illusions, and other similar sort of manipulations were in fantasy stories where magic existed. In truth, he didn’t even need to remember fantasy - he had already had personal experience with it, after all. He remembered the pressure of a foreign, hostile mind on his own, and he was continuously aware of his own ability to catch the thoughts of others. At least, to his knowledge, he couldn’t influence anyone with his mind alone.

The thought of removing anxiety seemed tantalizing at times, but if it did involve direct manipulation of his mind, he would rather avoid it if possible. His mind was already vulnerable enough, he didn’t want to open it up any further. To let others see inside his mind was, perhaps, permissible. Letting anyone change it through magic? He was unwilling to go that far. Such a level of trust would require him to know someone inside and out, and he could never ask that of anyone.

However, he was digressing. In the there and then, Wild was just outside the gates to the Royal Orphanage, standing in place, rooted to it despite trying to push himself to move his legs. It was not a long walk from there to Ponyville, and in Ponyville, he would get a... massage. Unsurprisingly for him, it was the very cause of his anxiety. He was told to learn to identify his emotions, and he knew exactly how he felt about this.

Wild knew he had nothing to be afraid of, he knew it, and yet his body seemingly didn’t want to obey him. There was absolutely nothing in this situation that could be found in common to when he was imprisoned and violated, nothing at all, yet his mind drew parallels anyway, parallels that made no sense, and he knew it but...

Wild inhaled deeply, tasting the air. When he focused on it, he found it always seemed like he took deeper breaths than ever before in his past life. Part of it could be attributed to a different respiratory system, but a different, bigger part of it was not about anything related to his body at all. The ever-present stink of gasoline, tire rubber dust, concrete, asphalt, it was all simply not there. And now, it mattered more than usual.

It was a reminder that he was not in the city, that he wasn’t even on Earth. He exhaled, then took another deep breath. There was moisture, but it wasn’t combined with the stale smell of dust and concrete like where he was kept. He breathed out, then took another lungful of air. He did not smell the stink of his own body combined with the disgusting smell of, of anything else. He sometimes smelled of sweat, but it was entirely different now. Otherwise, he smelled fine as far as he could tell. Some ponies, he knew, used various things to make themselves smell one thing or the other, but he simply enjoyed being clean.

Smells. Nothing he could smell was similar to his darkest memories.

Wild set out, making the first step. He felt the ground under his hooves, not bare concrete under his naked feet. One step, two, then more. He blinked, his eyes seeing the nature around him and not the room he was confined to. His ears twitched, hearing the subtle rustling of the leaves, not complete and utter silence with rare muffled sounds of a car. A dry twig snapped under his rear left hoof, and it was nothing like the slap of his feet against the floor.

Touch, sight, and hearing. No similarities once again.

Wild focused on how free he was. He could turn around and not go to the spa, refuse the massage. He had that choice, and he would always have it. Even when he made the entire way to the spa place where the massage was waiting for him, he would have the freedom to leave before ever entering the building and at any point afterwards. There would be no punishment, no disapproval. He would not need to explain himself.

A thought crept into his brain - it was too much too fast, wasn’t it? Going from no touching to a full-on massage of his entire body. He had already slept with someone else, which was unthinkable despite the fact that it wasn’t sexual at all. It was all just too much, and he needed a break, that was without a doubt. And he would not be averse to have it last a long time. In fact, having it last for however long he needed it to would only be good for him, wouldn’t it? And as for how much time he needed...

That, he knew, would mean forever. To admit it to himself was to recognize that he was avoiding things. If he did not crawl out of his shell, if he did not push himself further and further, he would be stuck where he was forever. And he wanted touch. He desired closeness. If he ended up getting together with someone, somehow, it would not do to have him flinch when he wanted to, for example, snuggle closer.

That night at the cabin was not too much and was not too fast. It was just right, and he had to admit, had to accept that what he felt was good and that it was the right move to agree to a sleepover. He got a taste of it, a taste of consensual, pleasant touch, and he wanted more. He had to be unafraid, had to beat his anxiety back, had to not allow it to control him if he ever wanted to experience snuggling, hugging, and maybe more than that.

Even as he desired the closeness, a part of him wanted to reject it and reject anyone who offered it. He wanted to retreat to the safety of being alone, to the security in making it clear to everyone that he was not to be touched, ever, under any circumstances. He could return to where he was, to close the door and lock it tight. He could forget it ever happened, to push his desire away and never allow it to resurface. In a way, it could be better... and if not better, then easier, at least.

However, and he had to remind himself of it, he wanted to be touched. He desired it, even perhaps lusted after it in a way that he had never done before. So, keeping his want in mind while trying to keep the fear away, he forced himself to walk. Step by step, feeling his hooves hit the ground, he made his way. Along the path he went, meeting no one except a couple squirrels playing with each other. The sight made him relax somewhat even if it didn’t feel like anything changed at all. However, despite his anxieties, life went on. And just like it continued around him, it needed to continue within him. Step by step, he made his way.

Last time he visited Ponyville felt like a lifetime ago, yet not even a year had yet passed. That tournament, his very first tournament as a pony, and he won it. It was not an unpleasant memory despite what followed afterwards - the Changeling Invasion, the Nightmare, and... quite a lot of things. Despite how much had happened to him and how much his life changed, what he was seeing before himself hadn’t seemingly changed at all aside from the obvious transition from summer to autumn. The same quaint houses with thatched roofs, the same curved streets, the same ponies. It was as if nothing had happened at all. As far as the residents were concerned, perhaps nothing had - Wild had no idea if changelings ever entered Ponyville. From all that he knew about the Invasion, the princesses were the main targets, as well as the capital of Equestria. Whatever the case might be, Wild stopped to appreciate the sense of peace permeating the air of Ponyville.

Ponyville Day Spa was at the other end of Ponyville, so Wild had to make his way through the village. He wondered why a village had a spa - he thought such things belonged in the cities. Perhaps the word ‘spa’ wasn’t the right translation to English, although the definition of the word seemed to fit. To him, the village looked mostly medieval, and the word ‘spa’ evoked the images of modern sleek and straight designs, including uniform tile, smooth glass, and women wearing high heels. Naturally, ponies never wore high heels, so Wild was confident he would not see such things. However, maybe this spa was closer to a bathhouse in function, and Wild remembered hearing of bathhouses that existed, if he was recalling it correctly, in either Greece or Rome back around the first century or maybe earlier.

When Wild thought of something medieval, he imagined something dull and dirty where people threw their bodily waste right out on the street. Ponyville, however, was nice and bright, full of color, and there were no unpleasant smells lingering in the air. Wild was aware Equestria had plumbing, but to imagine plumbing inside medieval houses... that was difficult. Wild wondered what was the rate of sewage systems and plumbing in Equestria - was it high or were there plenty of places where nothing of that sort still existed?

Wild shook his head, trying to get rid of those stray thoughts. The existence of plumbing in Ponyville was, at the very least, confirmed by the working fountain he was passing by. He didn’t know when exactly fountains appeared - was it sixteenth century? Eighteenth? Whatever it was, a fountain likely required some sort of plumbing to work. And, to his surprise, a pony stopped by the fountain and took a few sips before moving on. Was water that clean in there that just drinking straight from a fountain was safe? Of course, were he homeless he wouldn’t think twice about it unless there was some sign warning of chlorine or something of that sort, but now, when he had the option to drink water he knew was perfectly safe, drinking from a fountain didn’t seem very appealing. However, if the fountain water was clean enough for safe drinking, then he would keep it in mind. If, for whatever reason, he ended up out on the streets by himself again, at least he wouldn’t die of thirst. He wondered if food could be gained for free, and then he immediately realized that ponies could easily munch on grass and leaves. Unlike humans, ponies were herbivores and could eat all plants, so it made sense to him that free food likely meant eating some grass out on the fields and glades and all that. If he ever went homeless again then perhaps he wouldn’t have to think much about food and water... however, there was winter to contend with. He needed to look up how cold winters were in Equestria. Considering the yellowing, browning, and reddening of the leaves around him, he suspected winter would have at least some snow and freezing temperatures.

He passed by a market, and his gaze was attracted by a sign that proclaimed something ‘Free’, although there was some smaller script underneath. He almost automatically went there and, before he realized he did so, he was standing in front of a stall full to the brim with various apple products, from regular apples to various apple pies and other apple foods that he had no names for.

“Hey there, young ‘un,” he was greeted by an earth pony mare who spoke an accent he could categorize as southern even in the different language. She was also wearing... some sort of a cowboy hat, or something close enough that it looked like it. For a reason he couldn’t figure out, she looked familiar, “Fancy yourself an apple?”

Wild signed that he had no money with him. He decided not to admit that the ‘Free’ sign was what attracted him.

“No worries there,” the mare told him. If she thought him not speaking was odd she didn’t comment on it, “Grab one, come back if ya end up liking it, and Ah know ya will. We make the finest apples ‘round here, after all.”

Wild nodded, then looked at the selection of apples. They came in many different sizes and colors, and Wild didn’t know which one to pick. The mare seemed to catch on to that fact pretty quickly.

“Ya see, here’s Golden Delicious, Lady, Baldwin...”

She continued rattling off the kinds of apples one after another, and Wild felt his eyebrows rise at the amount of those kinds. He was only really familiar with red apples and green apples - simply their color, at least - and he had certainly never heard of their names before.

“...and this one here is special, but it ain’t a real apple, just a model,” the mare finished, gesturing at the most unique apple Wild had ever seen. Their skin was a perfect, clear rainbow. As real as it looked, there was a sign next to it stating that it was made of wood, “Come again in a week and we’ll have ‘em for real. They’re zap apples, Granny Smith planted ‘em when Ponyville was founded. Ah’d wager ya’re not local, so don’t miss ‘em when they come.”

“It’s you!”

Wild swiftly turned around and saw... for a second, she looked startlingly familiar, and it took him a few moments to place her face in his memory. She was Rainbow Dash, and he beat her at the tournament. It made him feel oddly nostalgic despite the fact that the tournament wasn’t that long ago at all.

“Huh?” the apple seller blinked in confusion, her eyes moving between Rainbow Dash and Wild until something clicked into place, “Aaah, ya’re Wild, aren’tcha?”

Wild simply nodded. He was tense and ready for a fight as Rainbow Dash gave him a stink eye.

“Well Ah’ll be damned,” the mare laughed a bit, “Dash, ya’re still feelin’ sore ‘bout that loss?”

“I’ll get you back, Wild,” Rainbow Dash told him, “Our rematch will be legendary when I whoop your butt!”

Wild’s memories came to him, and now he recalled how arrogant she was, how sure she was of her victory until Wild showed just how wrong she was about her own abilities. A smirk spread on his face, making her huff in response. Wild’s mouth pressed into a line until he made his jaw relax, opening his mouth to speak.

“We will see,” he said lowly, then turned to the apple seller. Now he remembered her as well - she was in the support group of Rainbow Dash and the unicorn he beat for the first place, Twilight Sparkle. He then grabbed a random apple - thankfully not the wooden model of a zap apple - and said, “Thank you for the apple.”

He turned around and walked away, having to consciously force himself not to look back as his instincts screamed at him not to turn his back to a potential enemy. However, he was reasonably sure Rainbow Dash wouldn’t attack him, and whoever the apple seller was wouldn’t let her if she decided to try. Besides, Wild had his ability - he would feel her coming. This rationalization made his instincts quiet down somewhat even though they remained in the back of his mind.

When he turned a corner, he could hear some words exchanged between the two mares as well as laughter from the apple seller. Whatever they said, he couldn’t clearly see, so he went on his way. The apple was delicious when he finally took a bite, and soon nothing was left on it - he ate it in its entirety, core and all. After all, the core was still food - there was no need to waste it.

Wild was surprised he managed to speak, but now it came to him easier and easier. He was glad for it - it had been a long time since he spoke as often as he was doing now, and it felt good to speak again, especially in an entirely new language. It felt like something new, almost as if he was learning to speak all over again. Perhaps it was fitting, considering that it was his second life.

Not too long after the encounter with Rainbow Dash, he had finally reached Ponyville Day Spa. It did not look quite like timber-framed houses around Ponyville, being covered in smooth plaster and then painted, but it still managed to fit in a way that Wild couldn’t explain. The spa was also a relatively large building with ample space inside. Above the entrance door, which was made of wood and not steel and glass like one could expect out of a modern shop with a street entrance, there was a sign depicting a tall pony with a glorious and long golden mane and tail. He tilted his head this and that way, realizing that the pony on the sign also sparkled. He briefly wondered how he would look like with a mane and tail this long and voluminous, and found he didn’t mind this thought. Most importantly, this sign confirmed that this was exactly the place he came for. Before he could convince himself to turn tail and flee, he opened the door and stepped inside.

The smell that immediately rushed at him reminded him of when he used bath bombs as a child. It was pleasant and certainly reminded him of a bath, at least. This smell, while wet, was nothing like any bad kind of smells, thankfully. At the reception desk, two mares awaited him already - Aloe and Lotus as the signs said.

“Good day and welcome to Ponyville Day Spa,” one of them greeted him, “You’re Wild, right?”

He nodded.

“Alright. You’re here for a therapeutic massage, right?”

Wild, not trusting himself to speak nor having any real desire to do so, nodded again. His heartbeat was slightly faster, yet he did his best to keep it calm by taking steady and deep breaths. There was no danger there, and he would not even be touched by men.

“Would you like a private room for it?”

Wild nodded in confirmation. He had no desire to expose himself any more than he was already doing.

“Very well. Please follow me.”

Wild was led to a small room colored in pleasant blues and purples where a massaging bed or table or whatever it was called was waiting for him. There was also a frosted window letting in pleasant daylight and nothing else. There was some sort of a floral fragrance in the air that he couldn’t identify. He focused on it, breathing it deep. He could almost hear his own heartbeat, but he wasn’t quite at that point yet.

“First, I would like you to mark which areas are off-limits for massage if you have any,” Aloe - or was it Lotus? He already forgot which of the name plates were next to which pony. Either way, she gave him a drawing of a pony with various areas separated by dotted lines.

He immediately marked the crotch area as off-limits, as well as the area close to it like his belly. Inner thigh areas on his rear legs were also marked as they were far too close to his privates for comfort. He considered marking his entire butt as off-limits but decided not to. Done with marking, he handed the drawing back to the mare.

“Alright, please take your place on the massaging table.”

The massage table was certainly shaped for pony needs, having enough space for all four legs as well as a raised section for his head. It wasn’t very high off the floor, although Wild spotted a mechanism that could raise it if needed. It was clear the table was designed with the pony lying down on their belly in mind, which was fine as far as Wild was concerned. He didn’t fail to notice that there was also a hole where his crotch would be. The implications were quite clear, and Wild wisely didn’t comment on it. He marked that area as off-limits anyway, so he didn’t need to worry.

One he lay down on it, the mare explained in detail what she was going to do, seeking confirmation from Wild along the way. Her calm voice and professional attitude about it made him relax somewhat, and by the end of her explanation he was as ready for the massage as he could ever be.

She started from the shoulder area just like she told him she would. He was almost ready to reject her touch, and yet when she finally touched him...

It was nothing like hands. The pressure, the pattern of it, the texture, it was so completely and utterly different that he almost jumped at the sensation. Then he realized that it did not remind him of all the times he was touched without his consent, and that allowed him to settle down. With the point of expected familiarity between the good and the bad not being there, he had nothing to be afraid of, and so his anxiety started slowly yet surely disappearing.

She worked her hooves expertly over him, kneading his muscle, sometimes slightly uncomfortably, until Wild felt those muscles relax, their tension disappearing. He no longer had to actively focus on his breathing, and so he closed his eyes and enjoyed the sensation of touch. She was not a man, she was doing it all professionally, she was not going to touch him sexually, and all of that combined made his wariness fade.

From his shoulders she shifted to his back, and that was where a lot of tension was. Under her hooves, his muscles continued to loosen, and he even let out a soft groan of relief when a particularly stubborn one lost the tension he had never thought was there.

From his back, she transition to his rear, and that was the area he expected problems to appear. However, once again, her hooves were not hands, and none of the touch was even hinting at anything sexual whatsoever. He allowed it to happen freely, and a smile spread on his face as his body relaxed.

From his torso to his legs to his neck and even to his face, the massage took all the tension away, wiping it off him as if it was never there. When she reached his horn, he let out a moan that could only be described as sexual, although neither commented on it - Wild was so out of it that the possibility of his moan sounding inappropriate never reached his brain.

He didn’t know what it was about his horn, but as it was massaged it felt amazing. Not in a sexually pleasant way but like warm sun on his skin combined with the feeling of a heavy warm blanked on top of him except amplified at least tenfold in strength. He knew a unicorn’s horn had to be special in some way aside from providing the ability to cast spells, but apparently there was even more to it than he thought.

However, he didn’t need to think anymore. He was now seemingly floating, with nothing but his own breathing, his calm heartbeat, and the feeling of hooves on his skin to distract him from the experience of simply being. Without his conscious command, his face relaxed, and a smile was wide on it, all the pinched look of tension and wariness disappearing as if it was never there.

After who knew how long, the feeling of hooves on him disappeared, and he was left in a state that could be called bliss.

“I will let you rest here for some more time, Wild,” he was told, “Feel free to take a nap if you feel the need to.”

“Mh-hmm,” he nodded slightly, and he heard the mare exit the room and close the door behind her. Nap certainly sounded like something...

Before he could complete the thought, the combined relaxation of his body and mind put him to sleep.

For now, he simply rested.

Author's Note

Happy New Year, everyone, and this chapter marks an entire year of consistent updates of this story on Fimfiction! Feels good to have that going, that's for sure.

As a reminder, more chapters are available on my Boosty, up to and including Chapter 90.