“Now, I believe you may be in need of a bit of understanding that violence hurts.” The pony says, surprisingly steady in his upright posture.

No matter, I’m still a decent foot and a half taller standing up, even with a bit of a slouch. “Listen, I don’t think you really want to fight me. Besides, my power-outage is on a time limit. It could come back in two seconds for all we know. Would you risk it?”

Apparently unconcerned, the unicorn speaks again. “Did you know that the Minotaurs have a specific type of martial art developed for quadrupeds like me to fight bipeds like them - and yourself?”

“I hardly see how that matters. If you want a fight, are you prepared to, knowing that it’s possible that I will be able to go completely intangible and roast you like a pig on a spit?”

“You know, some seek enlightenment through reading, or meditation. I think you’re more like a griffon.” The pony says. “Too thick to learn any way but having it beaten into your skull.”

“But I’m not a griffon. Though that raises an interesting point. So far, everyone, even Celestia herself, seems to think I should act like a pony despite clearly being something entirely different.”

“That seems rather silly. From the way you act, speak, and react, I’ve already figured out you’d do better in a Griffon eyrie. Less culture clash.”

I think about that for a bit. “You know... you really are the first pony to suggest an alternative than try and force me to fit in with everybody else...”

“Manehattan has eleven different species and more than a hundred confirmed separate cultures present in it. Being a resident, let alone a guidance counselor, here requires a wider view than is present in rural Equestria. Can you honestly say that your own home has diverse and understanding peoples in every single backwater city and major place of politics? Because I’ve always found those have the worst cases of neophobia.”

“Well, Ponyville isn’t that bad, but Canterlot... I’m pretty much a freak unless some paparazzi wants to snap my picture and apply some bullshit tabloid.”

“Oh, you should give an exclusive to a reputable paper. The Neigh York Times fires ponies who try the tabloid approach. Celestia’s attempts at fixing the society she’s built are, ironically, the weakest in her seat of power, and gain strength the farther from her they get.”

“Interesting. As for that exclusive... I might just do that.” I return to my seat, and the counselor does the same. “So, given you are not as narrow sighted as most ponies I know... if you were going to diagnose me with something, what would it be?”

“In essence? Exactly what I was trying to escape; you’ve got some pretty severe cabin fever. You’re holding to your powers as something to make you powerful, but there’s so little you should do, in spite of all you can do. You need to take some time for not being special. You’ve been more or less continuously in the spotlight for... how many years now? Two? Three? I think you need some time just being either yourself, or utterly anonymous. Probably the latter, because the former is contraindicated to actually being out of the spotlight.”

The counselor, his chair now facing me, stops and puts on an expression of deep thought. “One more thing, and I’m sorry I need to ask this... when was the last time you had sexual release?”

Oh man... “I uh.... I’m a virgin.”

“Heh, I’m including ‘helping yourself along’ in this question. And don’t worry, I’m not going to tell anyone about your status.”

“Well, uh... I never really had my own room for a while, and once I did have it, I... haven’t really at all. I always figure as soon as I take some serious time for myself some major thing is gonna happen, and I don’t exactly want to go saving towns from monsters with a... er... ‘monster’.”

“Well, that’s certainly one of your problems. Is there anyone you’re maybe possibly interested in? Because you need to fix this sometime in the near future. Nearer is better, in fact. I can’t speak for your star-ness, but I can conclusively state that not getting that release can make you irritable, agitated, and generally more dangerous. There’s a reason the prohibition on prostitution never stuck.”

“Well, there are two candidates... but they’re my friends! I don’t want to sound like a pervert who only wants to be friends with either of them because I can get laid! What if it screws up our friendship? They’re the only ones I can really relate to around here!”

“Well, it’s either that or you worry about beginning to spontaneously have ‘monsters’ at the least opportune times. I mean it when I say least opportune, because fate likes to mess with males that way.”

“But I can’t just walk up to one of them and say ‘Hi, the counselor said I need to get laid, let’s fuck!’. One of them would end up a statue, and the other is likely to turn me into a statue!”

The pony just stares at me for several seconds, brow furrowing further and further.

“See my problem? Frankly, I’m not against the idea, but my options are rather limited. I wouldn’t mind in the slightest if either of them wanted to, but...”

“By statue, what exactly did you mean?”

“Anne would end up having her body transmute into solid metal due to embarrassment, and Myrna can petrify someone with her eyes if she’s irritated or shocked.”

The brows furrow even further, threatening to meet in the middle.

“It really is a problem, I know. I’ve been trying to get started in a relationship with one of them, but I don’t want to pick one and have the other girl feel ignored...”

“Why not just court both?”

“Polygamy isn’t exactly... supported in human culture.”

The brows meet.  I figure if we actually want to get anywhere with this session, I should try to fix our relationship. “Hey doc, I know I’ve been a prick this whole time, but let’s just say that I’ve had bad experiences making friends with my counselors... how about we start over?”

He looks up at me, distracted from his thoughts. I mentally push the restart button and hold out my hand. “Hi, I’m Anthony.”

The pony reaches out with a hoof, and places it in my hand, then shakes. “And I’m Double Fluke, well-known guidance and reformation counselor. Also, I’m a fifth-grade black sleeve in at least eight martial arts, none of them pony styles. Can’t use six of them anymore, but oh well.”

I grin. “Heh, aren’t I supposed to be the braggart here?”

“Bragging? No, bragging would be saying I won fourteen national tournaments in the Griffon Imperial States by the time I was thirty, and that I’ve had six years in the Royal Wardens before my incident.” he flashes me a cocky smile.

“Heh, and they post the local freak in the papers for ages? I’ll never understand journalism.”

“It’s mostly the tabloids. Besides, only six years? My instructor there had already been in for forty.”

“Alright alright enough story time. We need to come up with some solutions. Like what to do next. And what about staying anonymous? That’s a problem in itself if I’m really needed, I can’t just put on a mask and expect people to not notice.”

“Hmmm, if we bulked you up... well, if we bulked you up a lot, you might be able to be passed for a minotaur. You’re about the right size. As for future sessions... I think we can arrange something with a gym or other place for you to work off your aggression without hurting anyone.” he ‘hmm’s to himself, still thinking. “You might want to look into a martial art; the outlet and meditation could help. As well, we can find you someone just for a night, if only to relieve that tension...”

I shudder, and shake my head. “Absolutely not! I’m not going to screw a pony, no matter what.”

“Oh, fine, we’ll find you a griffon, then. They usually charge more, so I might have to see about this being swung as a medical expense...”

Oh geez, a medical expense? “Please tell me the results of this will be... kept off the records?”

“Well, it’ll be in my case logs, but it won’t be vulgar, I promise,” he reassures me.

“Thanks, I just don’t want anyone thinking I’m... available, despite being single. I’ve been trying to stop such advances for a while now.”

“You have? Hmm... have you taken a vow of celibacy, or is it just mild xenophobia?” He seems to be asking that seriously...

“Let’s put it this way: Sentient partner or not, me doing anything of the sort with anything but a human would be considered bestiality, which is treated very severely.”

The brows begin to furrow again. “Uhm... not really. That’s sort of reserved for non-sapient creatures, such as dogs, cats, chickens, cloud-kraken, and the like. Though the krakens are debatably non-sapient.”

“Well it’s more of a human thing. You guys as ponies, bovine-like, or bird-like races are... you guys are livestock to us! You aren’t sentient where I come from. People have been killed via stoning for doing things like this!”

“Ah... well, we’ll have to see about breaking some of those aversions. I fear you may be subconsciously changing that aversion to aggression, judging by the rather... permanent way you tried to deal with the thief. One thing I would strongly recommend after your time here is up: go to a griffon eyrie and spend some time there. Don’t use your powers if you have them by then, and try to be yourself there.”

“Alright. And actually... well, there’s a unicorn I know that could turn some other species into a human... assuming I don’t know what their species origin is, I never know who they are and never meet them again...”

“I, er, suppose that’s a possibility. Are you sure those two friends of yours aren’t up for a group thing? It might help the three of you bond better. Sex usually does.”

I honestly have to think about that. The thought isn’t bad... “Well, I’ll try it, but if it doesn’t work out, then we’ll have to go to plan B.”

“Alright. Well, I suppose that’s everything I can think of at this point. You’ll be scheduled to meet with me at least twice, if not three times a week. Once your community service here is done, you may feel free to contact me at any time, though the mail can be a touch slow around here.”

“Okay, so my to-do list involves me trying to get laid by my human friends, and going to the gym. Great. So... where do I go from here? What am I supposed to actually do for community service?”

“Ask the guards, they’ll have your orders.”

“Alright, I guess I’ll see you later then. Bye Fluke.” I get up and leave his office after he voices his farewell. I’m leaving the building, and thinking about how to make all this happen. And I wonder if what happened with all my other counselors will happen again. I hope not. Next Chapter: Chapter 116 Estimated time remaining: 18 Hours, 40 Minutes