New week. New clients. My three-day weekend had been nice, but it was back to work now. I had Luna’s poker night for my last gig this week, but my first one was some earth pony named Rag Doll.

It was a typical morning session. The client folder had a few bits in it for covering lunch, but there were no client notes on her, so this was her first visit to The House.

Walking into the kitchen, I took the time to straighten a few things, and think about what I would cook for lunch.

I’d just finished wiping down the wet bar, when a light knock announced my first client for the week had arrived.

“Be right there,” I called. Pausing a moment, I straightened a few last things in the living room, before going to the door. Back straight, smile on, I opened the door. “Hello...”

I blinked. She blinked back.

“Are you okay?” She looked like a kitten left in traffic. Questionably young, ribs showing, and a few sores to round out the look.

“Yea..” she answered.

I’d seen ponies that ranged from skinny to fat, but this was the first time I’d call one malnourished. She needed a hot meal and a nurse's touch, not a rutting. If I’d seen a horse back home in her condition, I would have beat the hell out of the owner, taken the horse home, and dared them to complain about it.

“Come on in,” I said, opening the door all the way.

She winced at my sudden movement, but then nodded and followed me inside. “Make yourself at home.” Picking up her client sheet, I looked it over again: age nineteen. Well, can’t argue with that. “Would you like something to eat?”

She wasn’t hungry, she was starving: I could see it in her eyes.

“Not... No I’m good. I’ll take something to drink though.”

I watched her from the corner of my eye as I made my way to the kitchen. She was a nervous mare, preferring to sit on the rug, instead of the couch. Opening the icebox, I pulled out some sweet tea and mint sprigs. If she wouldn’t take food, I’d at least get a little sugar and mint in her. Much like the equines back home, I’d yet to meet a pony that would turn down mint.

“Here you go,” I said, re-joining her in the living room. “Sweet tea, family recipe. Hold on a minute, and I’ll be right back.” Leaving her with the tea, I went back to my bathroom, and fetched the first-aid kit that had come with the place.

Doll was chewing on the mint, and had downed half the tea when I returned. “What’s that?” she asked, giving me wary look.

“Just a first-aid kit,” I said, sitting next to her. Popping the box open, I gathered a few familiar looking things, then turned to Doll. “You’re going to get an infection if these don’t get cleaned.”

I’m sure the proper thing to do would be ignore the wounds, and make her feel welcomed as-is, but I had to help her out. She winced a bit at the first touch of peroxide, but relaxed once I started applying ointment. I would have covered them with some gauze too, but odds where we’d end up in the shower at some point, then I’d just be putting fresh one on again.

“So what ya want too do today?” I asked to fill the awkward silence.

“Oh... Just, whatever sounds good to you.”

Yet another warning bell went off in my head. This mare had some serious problems in her life. I was going to have to tread lightly here. I had a professional obligation to entertain her for the day, but a moral responsibility to help where I could.

After Doll goes home tonight, I'm going to ask Rose about how to handle signs of abuse,

“What’s your special talent?” I asked, moving my attention to a spot by the image of a doll being sewn up.

Turning her head, she gave me an honest smile. “I make stuffed toys for foals.”

"Oh? That sounds fun."

"I think it is," Doll said nodding in agreement. "They're fun to make, and the foals really love them."

We sat in quiet for a moment as I finished cleaning the last wound. There was a certain edge to her that seemed to fade as I doted on her.

"There, how's that feel?" I asked, sliding the kit under the coffee table.

Doll stretched a bit. "Feels good." Reaching for her glass, she finished off the tea, then paused to ponder the empty glass. She almost looked confused.

"You okay?"

"Yeah." Setting the glass back down, she examined a salve -overed wound before looking back to me. "I think I am hungry." Tilting her head, she gave me the most pitiful look. "Would you cook me something?"

It was too cute; I had to laugh. "Sure. I think I know just what to make."

Doll perched herself on a stool by the kitchen's island, and watched my every move. There was a curiosity and hunger that almost felt predatory, but the little withered thing couldn't pass as threatening to anyone.

What Rag Doll needed was some healing food. That meant grilled cheese and tomato soup. Humming an old tune I'd learned from my grandmother, I pulled out a cast iron skillet, bread, cheese, and butter. Letting the skillet warm, I pondered the soup while slicing the bread—I really miss sliced bread. No canned soup to simply open and warm either, but I did have a jar of canned tomato paste I'd picked up at the farmer's market, and some vegetable broth from the other night.

A little bit later, and I was grinning like an idiot as I pulled the grilled cheese off the skillet. It smelled wonderful. All my friends got grilled cheese and tomato soup when they were sick. It was a meal I prided myself on.

"Here you go," I said, sliding a plate in front of Doll.

Taking the second one off, I sat that on a plate for myself. The soup had come out okay. Pony ingredients had helped the sandwiches, but hindered the soup.

Taking a bite, Doll hummed. "You put a lot of love into this."

Taking a seat across from her, I sat down my own plate, and her cup of soup. “Yeah, cooking was one of the few things I could do for my friends, even if I was broke.”

We made idle conversation for a while. Slipping into my practice routine of telling some humorous story from back home, I watched her slowly nibbled away at her meal. After a while, it occurred to me that she was favoring her left hoof, but I could tell that wasn’t her dominate side.

“Your right hoof okay?”

Raising her right foreleg, she moved it back an forth a bit. “Yeah, I... fell on it the other day. It doesn't hurt now, but it’s a bit stiff.”

Fell on it, my ass. This evening is starting to look like it'll end with Key Peg having to bail me out.
Doll took a breath, as if taking in the best scent in the world. Grabbing her soup bowl, Doll slid it in front of her. “Smells good,” she said, stirring it with a spoon.

“Yeah, It didn’t come out quite like I wanted. You want me to massage your leg, after you eat?”

Doll’s ears focused on me, but her eyes stayed on the soup. “If you want; that would be nice.”

Finishing off my own sandwich, I mulled over an idea. The working bathhouse had actual massage tables. Not to mention a nice soaking would do Doll good.

“I’d love to. We could even go out to the bathhouse, and soak for a while first.”

The comment froze Doll, I could feel the dread rolling off her. “Umm... aren’t there going to be other ponies there?”

“Maybe,” I answered, trying to calm her a bit. “If you're not comfortable with it, we can just stay inside.”

Sliding back from the table, Doll nodded. “I’d rather stay inside.”

Okay, that was a bust. Collecting the dirty dishes, I took them to the sink. “I still want to give you a good massage though. Why don’t you get comfortable on the couch, and I’ll join you in a second.”

I feigned being busy in the kitchen for a minute; just enough time for Doll to get comfortable and relax. Once I saw her settle in and get still, I left the kitchen to kneel on the floor beside her.

“Now, let me see that foreleg,” I said, petting her shoulder with one hand, while taking her hoof in the other. She was a bit shy about it at first, but just like earlier, she relaxed pretty fast.

There wasn't anything erotic about this massage. I was honestly trying to be therapeutic here. She cooed under the attention all the same, which was a good sign.

The poor little thing. I really felt bad for whatever she was going through. I wanted to erase as much pain as I could, and let her forget the rest; if only for a day.

I let my mind drift as I stretched and kneaded the surprisingly stiff tissue. I had a timid and agoraphobic mare to entertain for the rest of the day, and I had no idea how to fill the time.

Shifting a bit, Doll snuggled deeper into the sofa. "Good food, making me sleepy..."

"We could cuddle in the bed. Take a nap if you like."

Doll's ears perked up at that, her head slowly following. "That'd be nice," she said with a drowsy smile.

With a gentle touch, I helped her back onto her hooves, and lead her into the working bedroom. I made a little show of turning back the sheets for her, then walked over to the window to draw them up the best I could.

“Be right back,” I said, excusing myself for a moment. I needed to pee, and I wanted to sneak a book by the bed so I could read after she fell asleep.

Looking back as I left the room, my heart jumped. Curled up on the bed, with a pillow under her head, Doll’s sad eyes locked onto mine with sadness and fear.

Laughing to break the tension, I smiled at her. “I just need to use the bathroom.” The explanation seemed to calm her, as she nodded before snuggling deeper into the bedcovers.

A few moments later, and I had a relieved bladder, and a book hidden behind my back. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I tucked the book under the pillow, and pulled my socks off before starting to climb under the covers.

“You sleep with clothes on?” Doll asked, her voice having genuine curiosity in it.

“Not normally, no,” I said, pausing in place.

Doll gave me a warm smile, waving her hoof in dismissal. “You don’t have to stay dressed up for me all day. You can get comfortable, if you want.” Her face went sad for a moment, as her eyes focused on something far off. “Relax. Be yourself.”

Running my hand through her mane, I smiled at her. I should have probably said something, but nothing came to mind. Instead I watched her close her eyes, and snuggle into the pillow. “They are uncomfortable to sleep in,” I finally said, giving me some excuse to stand, as I began to take off my clothes.

My previous clients watched me undress, with varying degrees of interest, but I don’t think Doll even opened her eyes. Any impression that she was ignoring me was shattered as soon as I slid under the covers. Before I could even get the pillow under my head, Doll was pressed against my side—clinging to me like she would die of cold if she didn’t.

Once I was settled in, I put an arm around her as she nuzzled her head into my chest and neck. She was perfectly adorable, cuddled against me, and I couldn’t help but pet her with my free hand. I didn’t know what hardships she faced in her life, but right then, I would protect her as she slept.

It didn’t take long for her breath to even out, the eventually turn into a barely-audible buzzing-squeak of a snore. Reaching back for my book, I managed to get it open with one hand. I’d started on The Apprentice a few days ago, and was rather enjoying the role reversal the young apprentice had pulled on Orchid.

After a few pages of reading, dim light and the mare sleeping against me began to take it toll. I tried to stay awake, but after nodding off and hitting myself in the face with the book, I gave up. Setting the bookmark back, I pitched the book under the bed, and let myself nod off.