//------------------------------//
// Cheerilee's Lesson 
// Story: Tales of Hapless Humans and Hypnotic Hijinks 
// by TheKissoftheVoid 
//------------------------------//

	Couldn't have asked for a more beautiful day, you think to yourself as you meander down Ponyville's Mane Street. The sun is shining bright and mellow in that not-too-cool, not-too-hot kind of way, and there isn't a cloud in the sky. You'd never let any of the ponies hear you say it, but if this is what makes up an Equestrian Summer, then you could definitely get used to it.

Speaking of the ponies, it seems that they too are intent on enjoying the good weather. While you can't really call the streets packed (you doubt that's even possible in a town this size), it seems like everypony is out and about this afternoon. The market district is even more bustling than usual, and over the din you catch an occasional snatch of what you can only describe as power-haggling. An image pops into your head of that one Earth Pony. . . Bon Bon, you think, swapping offers with a used car salesman back home, and you can't help but chuckle at the thought. What I'd give to see that, you think, and a wave of sudden, familiar homesickness washes over you. What I'd give to see a lot of things. . .

You shake your head almost violently, forcing yourself into a new train of thought. You've come a long way over the past nine months, and the last thing you want to do now is start sinking back into depression.

Adjusting to life in Equestria hadn't exactly been easy. Seeing the drain in your bath suddenly grow into a massive, lightning-shooting portal that had pulled you into a bizarre world of miniature, technicolor mythical creatures with full sentience and a fairly advanced civilization had been, in a word, traumatic. In fact, it was probably good that the pony-folk had walk-in showers, because you hadn't gone near a tub since. Add to that the loss of everything you had back home, being initially treated like some kind monster, and a two day game of hide-and-seek in a terrifying forest against two beings so powerful that they literally moved the sun and moon, naked, and it was a bit of a miracle that you'd adjusted so well in such a short time. Whenever you think about it, you chalk it up to good old human adaptability. Sure, you can be all gloom and doom, but it's so much more pleasant to picture Bon Bon standing in a car dealership, obstinately eyeing a sales rep who's visibly trying to hold in his frustration.

Speaking of Bon Bon, it seems that her roommate, and your occasional stalker, has noticed you. Lyra, a million bit smile pasted across her minty muzzle, is trotting across the market place with all the enthusiasm of a school-filly on Friday. You frown slightly as you take a deep breath, bracing yourself. Come on, you silently encourage yourself, you've improved so much this month. You got this!

Forcing a smile, you decide to take the initiative. "Hey Lyra," you call as she approaches, "how you doing today?"

"Hey yourself, Handy," she shoots back, her grin getting even wider, "and I'm doing great! What about you?"

Your smile grows a bit more genuine at the nickname as you reply, "Can't really complain. Loving this weather. Is the whole Summer gonna be like this?"

"Sure is. From what I hear we have a couple major storms scheduled next month, and some kind of big wind front near the end of August, but besides that we've got nothing but clear skies and warm, sunny days."

You shake your head as you say, "I don't know if I'll ever get used to the way you ponies control the weather. I've seen you guys doing it, and I still have trouble believing it."

She raises an eyebrow and quips back, "And I don't understand how you can live in a world where the weather just does its own thing. What if there's a drought, or a tornado, or something like that?"

You shrug. "We adapt," you say proudly, followed my a mumbled, "or move. . ." as you look quickly away.

Lyra favors you with a snort and a chuckle, and you reflect that for once you've managed to make it through more than two sentences without things getting uncomfortable. Of course, the very next words out of her mouth are, "So, what are your plans for the rest of the day?"

Ah hell, here it comes. Evasive action! "I'm actually helping out Cheerilee over at the schoolhouse," you say quickly. "Come to think of it, I'm probably running a bit late, so I'd best be off. See you around, Lyra!"

You turn to make your exit, only to find the unicorn blocking your path, a hopeful smirk now adorning her muzzle. "Well, in case you have time later, Bon Bon and I just got a giant bean bag chair the other day. It's super comfy, and has plenty of room, and I-"

"No, Lyra," you interrupt, your expression morphing into a serious frown. "I've told you again and again, I'm not comfortable with the whole touching thing the way you ponies are. Someday I might be, but I also might not. Either way, please stop trying to force it." By this point the look on her face is both pitiful and adorable, but although it tugs on your heartstrings you can't help but continue. "I know you love my hands, but they're my hands, and if I want to keep them to myself, then that's my choice. Can you please just respect that?"

Lyra looks at your hands sadly for a moment before turning her gaze to the ground and murmuring,  "You're right. I'm sorry I keep pushing."

You're about to accept her apology when you notice that every single pony in the marketplace is staring at the two of you. Great, you think glumly, that's just the kind of attention I needed today. Sympathy gone, you heave a deep sigh before grumbling, "It's fine." You turn to leave, forcing out a token, "Have a nice day, Lyra," as you go. You barely hear the "You too," as you exit the market square, heading for the schoolhouse.

You make yourself take a few deep breaths as you try to regain your good mood. It's not their fault, you tell yourself as you walk along. It's part of the culture here, and it's not like your explanation makes that much sense. Well, not to them, at least. How can it when friendliness and closeness are so natural to them?

One thing you had noticed very quickly upon arriving in Equestria was the fact that the ponies were big on physical contact. Hugging, nuzzling, cuddling, they did it all, and even fairly casual acquaintances would often give a quick neck-hug as a farewell. Whether it was a cause or a symptom of their inherent friendliness you weren't really sure, but what you were sure of was that when the two combined it became more than you could handle.

It had taken a while to come to terms with losing your whole world, and the ponies had unintentionally made it a lot harder than it needed to be. Once they'd gotten over their initial fear, you'd been bombarded with sympathetic ponies who'd wanted to give you a cuddle and let you know that you weren't alone. The problem was that, at the time, you'd wanted nothing more than to be alone. Every pastel pony that brought hugs and best wishes had been just another reminder that everything you had ever known was gone, and every nuzzle and kind word they'd given had rubbed a little more salt in the wound.

Eventually you'd had a meltdown, damaged some property, scared a lot of ponies and gotten the Princesses called on you. While they hadn't been happy with your outburst, they had been very understanding, and so they had arranged to have you moved into the Everfree Forest to live in relative isolation with the zebra, Zecora. You hadn't exactly been thrilled with the location, but Zecora had graciously left you to your own devices, and thus you'd finally had the peace you needed.

Time had passed, you'd done your mourning and begun to move on, and eventually you were ready to give the ponies a second chance. For the most part they'd been okay, certainly better about giving you the space you needed, and you in turn had slowly adjusted to their natural friendliness. Even so, the prevalence of touch in pony culture is something you just can't bring yourself to deal with. It's almost as if the initial overload of contact left a bad taste in your mouth, and you just can't manage to get it out. You know it isn't rational, but that doesn't make the discomfort go away, and as such you haven't really gotten close to the ponies and all their touchy-feely kindness.

There are, of course, a few exceptions. Big Macintosh was your first real friend, his trademark silent stoicism fitting perfectly with your need for a low-input relationship. Living with Zecora has naturally made the two of you rather close, and she has always been happy to wait for you to approach her. Finally, there's Ponyville's resident school teacher, Miss Cheerilee.

In your estimation, Cheerilee probably understands your reasoning better than any of the other ponies do. You imagine that years of caring for hyper, know-no-boundaries foals would do that to anyone, and it makes her a kindred spirit of sorts. She was the only pony that you never had to ask to leave you alone when you were still adjusting, and that fact has cemented her place as your best friend here in Ponyville. That's not to say she isn't just as cuddle-happy as the rest of them, but she's always been very careful to respect your personal space, something for which you are eternally grateful.

The ring of a school bell jars you from your thoughts, and you realize that your reverie has taken you all the way to to your destination. The reddish, gingerbread-house style building sits directly ahead, and although it still looks just as likely to cause flash-burns as ever, you can't help but smile in anticipation as you approach. Every Friday after classes, you stop by and help Cheerilee finish up her work for the week, whether it be helping her grade tests, reorganizing the classroom, and on one occasion, fixing some piping that those dimwits Snips and Snails filled with rubber cement (yeah, you still don't wanna know). You've been doing this for close to six months now, and it's become your favorite weekly ritual. Cheerilee gets to finish up her work day faster, and you get to learn about Equestrian history, culture, and other things that, as a stranger here, you feel it might be important to know.

"Hey look, it's the human!"

And then there's the downside. . . you think to yourself as a small flood of fillies and colts begins streaming through the school doors toward you, faces alight with hope and excitement. You can't help but freeze as two of your most fundamental instincts come into conflict.

Just like small children back home, there is an unspoken principle by which these foals live; if someone is big and strong, then they can pick you up and toss you in the air, and thus they are automatically fun. You are bigger and stronger than almost any pony in town, and you have the extra advantage of hands, therefore you are the most fun out of anyone. Unfortunately, given your aversion to pony touch, the last thing in the world you want is a bunch of foals climbing all over you.

On the other hand, these little guys are adorable, and the disappointment on their faces when you refuse to play with them tugs at your heart harder than the end of Titanic (not that you ever saw it). You know it's only a matter of time until their puppydog-out-in-the-snow eyes break you, and if you're being honest with yourself, you know that's probably a good thing. For now however, it's just a headache waiting to happen.

Fortunately for you, most of the foals are intercepted by their parents before they can make it to you. You give them a grateful smile and a nod as a chorus of disappointed 'aawwwwws' rings out, and start for the door, glad that you're in the clear.

"Howdy Mr. Handy!"

Oh hell. . .

You can't help but wince as you turn around, and sure enough, there they are. The terrible, too-cute trio called the Cutie Mark Crusaders, all of them wearing identical hopeful smiles on their faces. This is gonna be a rough one, you think as you force a smile onto your face and say, "Well hello girls! How are you? Having a good Friday?"

"Today was awesome!" pipes up Scootaloo. "We've been learning about the history of weather development and great weatherponies, just like Rainbow Dash!" You can't help but notice that the other two don't seem quite as enthusiastic about that. You feel a small pang of sympathy, and before you can stop yourself you ask, "What about you two? You don't look quite as excited as Scootaloo here. Day treating you alright?"

What are you doing?! your brain screams at you. The fillies already have Cute Factor 9 on their side, don't give them pity power too! End conversation! Abort! Abort!

"It was okay, Ah guess," replies Applebloom, looking a bit put out. "Ah'm havin' a bit of trouble wrappin' mah head around all the different kinds of clouds, though."

"Me too," squeaks Sweetie Belle. "I still can't tell the difference between cumilus and cumilonimblus."

Oh god. . . Sweetie's mispronunciation is too much.  You can practically feel yourself spiraling toward the inevitable cute death of your brain-i-verse. Time to bail.

"Aw, don't worry about it girls!" you say with a smile. "I'm sure you'll have them down in no time." You then take a deep breath and continue, "Well, I don't wanna keep Miss Cheerilee waiting. You girls have a good weekend, ya hear?"

You don't even manage to turn before Applebloom grabs your leg, her face morphing into a sly smile with all the subtlety of a juggling manticore. Uh-oh. . .

"Actually, Miss Cheerilee still looked really busy when we left. Ah don't think she'll be ready for you quite yet, and we were hopin' that maybe you could help us!"

Red alert! Red alert! Get outta there!

"Er, what did you have in mind?" you stammer out.

"Well, we were gonna head over to Rarity's to do some crusadin', but since you're here, maybe you could help us with an idea that Scootaloo had."

You throw the orange Pegasus a cautious glance as the three look at each other and shout in unison, "CUTIE MARK CRUSADER ALIEN RIDERS!"

You can almost smell the smoke as your thought process comes to a screeching halt.

You can vaguely hear Sweetie Belle insisting, "It'd be really easy! Since you're an alien, all you'd have to do is give us a pony-back ride over to my sister's house. It's really close, and I think we still have some scones left over from this morning. You get scones made by my sister, and we get our cutie marks without doing anything dangerous. It's our best idea yet!" she declares with an entirely too adorable grin.

It takes you several seconds and a couple of mental reboots before you're finally able to respond. "Girls. . ." you sigh, "I really don't think-"

"PLEASE!" they beg, and suddenly it's there. The ultimate weapon. The triple powered puppy-dog pout that can turn back armies and drive lesser mortals insane. Must. . . look. . .away, you tell yourself, but it does you no good. Damn Applebloom and her oversized bow, she's the worst one of all! No living being should be this cute! I have to. . . have to. . .

"Having problems?" a new voice cuts in. Just like that, the Adorability Charm is broken, and you look up to see Cheerilee trotting toward you, clearly struggling not to laugh.

Saved by teacher. Thank you Sun Pony. . . yup, it still feels weird thinking that.

She turns to the Cutie Mark Crusaders. "Sorry girls, but I'm afraid I need to borrow the human. I need a hand with a few things."

Cheerilee, you think as the fillies voice their disappointment, truly you are a saint, bad puns and all.


"I'm sure he'll be happy to help with your crusading tomorrow though!"


May you suffer a thousand deaths, you traitorous wench!

Cheerilee sees the fillies to the end of the road before turning back and walking up to you, all the while wearing the most self-satisfied grin you've ever seen in your life. "What?" she asks innocently in the face of your death glare.

"Was that last part really necessary?" you deadpan.

She shrugs. "Probably not, but I needed a pick me up, and your reaction did just the trick!" A brief stare down ensues as she meets your scowl with a smirk, until at last she snorts, you chuckle, and you both burst out laughing.

"Seriously though," you say as you both start walking back towards the school, "I'm gonna get you back for that."

"Looking forward to it," she shoots back, still smirking. "What are you going to do, Fingers?"

"What you just said," you quip. "I have fingers. I can set up all kinds of delicate little traps that you ponies won't see coming."

"Uh-huh," she says dismissively. "You can do all these precise, delicate things with your hands. That's why you always use them to pull that giant body of yours into apple trees to scare of the Core Crows, right?"

"Hey, I had to do something for the Apples. I destroyed their entire produce stand during my meltdown."

"I guess you're right," she relents. "I'm just glad you haven't started tickling ponies. I might actually be worried if that wall came down."

Your smile falters a bit as the two of you walk into the empty classroom. "Please tell me you haven't become one of them. I don't know if I can handle it if you've gone to the cuddle side."

"No," she says in a tone that's both sincere and a bit wistful. "Just stating an opinion."

You regard her for a moment before giving a shrug. "If you say so, Cheers. So, what've we got today?"

"Honestly, I don't have much for you this time," she says matter-of-factly. "There are a few quizzes you can help me grade, but apart from that I'm just planning how I'm going to decorate the class for the Summer Sun Celebration. Until I have that taken care of, there isn't really much for you to help me with."

You give her a puzzled look. "Then what was that about needing a hand?"

She raises an eyebrow at you. " Did you want me to leave you with the Cutie Mark Crusaders? If you did, it's not too late to go and get them."

You immediately raise your hands. "NO, no, that's okay. Point taken. Thank you for that, by the way."

She gives you a warm smile. "No problem. So, you wanna get started on those quizzes?"

"Sure thing," you reply, returning the smile gladly as you kneel next to her desk while she fetches a pile of papers.

The next half hour or so passes in companionable silence, broken only by the scribble of marking a mistake or a request to translate some foal's illegible mouth-writing. Not that I can judge, you think ruefully. I hate to think of how my writing would look if I had to use my mouth to do it. Come to think of it, how is Cheerilee's penmanship better than mine? Seriously, how is that even possible?

Your thoughts are interrupted by a quiet "Hey. . .", and you look up to see Cheerilee regarding you seriously. "Can I. . .", she begins hesitantly, "can I ask you a question that might make you uncomfortable?"

You frown a bit as you mull it over. Well, I suppose it is Cheerilee. "If you want to," you respond. "I can't guarantee that I'll answer it, but you're more than welcome to ask."

She smiles a bit before asking, "What is it about ponies touching you that makes you so uncomfortable? I'm not saying it's a bad thing," she adds quickly, "but it's just strange to me how much it bothers you, and you've never actually told me why."

You raise an eyebrow. "Well, that kinda came outta nowhere. How long have you been wondering about it?"

She shrugs. "Since I noticed it, but we didn't really know each other well at that point, and I didn't want to pry."

"Hm," you mumble. "Why do you want to know? I trust you Cheerilee, but somehow I doubt that this is just about your curiosity."

She looks away, a still wearing that little grin. "Because my students love you. Every Friday they can barely sit still, not because they know that it's almost the weekend, but because they know that the human is coming to visit, and they hope that maybe this will be the day they finally convince him to play with them." She looks at you a bit sadly. "You have no idea how happy that would make them, and besides, I think both of us know that it would be good for you."

You fix her with a neutral gaze. "Maybe it would, and maybe not, but for right now, I'm not really interested in finding out."

She gives a quick nod and murmurs, "I know. I'm not telling you that you need to. I just wanted to know why you didn't." She tilts her head to the side a bit and asks, "Can I still ask that?"

You nod slowly before looking up at the ceiling and letting out a long, deep sigh. "I'm not really sure, Cheers. My only real theory is that I got burned out physical contact when what I needed was space. Everypony was so damn determined to give me a hug, or a cuddle, or a nuzzle, and I just got sick of it. I don't know if I'd say it upsets me anymore, but it definitely makes me uncomfortable, and for some reason I can't seem to move past that." You let out a quick, wry chuckle. "Not exactly the best reason in the world, right? Cheers?"

You look back to see Cheerilee frowning at her desk, seemingly lost in thought. "Cheerilee?" you ask, but get no response. You raise your voice a little, "Hey Cheerilee!"

"Hm?" she responds, snapping out of her trance with a slightly surprised look on her face.

"You doing okay?" you ask.

"Yeah," she responds, a little too quickly. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, apart from spacing out, which you only do when you have something on your mind, I seem to recall you saying you needed a pick-me-up when you rescued me from the Cutie Mark Crazies. Is everything going alright for you?"

She sighs and gives you a tired smile. "It's just been a long week. Cloud types are always a difficult lesson, thanks to the spelling, and Snips and Snails are having real trouble keeping up. Not to mention Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon have been worse than usual lately."

You grimace at the mention of the two fillies who are way too young to be as bitchy as they are. You like them inasmuch as they keep their distance from you. That's about the only good thing you can say about them.

"I'm sorry to hear that," you tell her, to which she responds by shaking her head.

"It's a labor of love. The job can be tough, but it's always worth it when I see that wonder and curiosity in my students' eyes." Her smile widens. "Nothing beats seeing a child experience the joy of learning."

You can't help but join her in smiling at the sentiment. "I imagine so."

"Still," she says, abruptly getting up and trotting over to a record player she keeps near the window, "I think we could both do with a little winding down, wouldn't you say?"

You chuckle a bit at her sudden change in demeanor. "Who could disagree with that? What did you have in mind?"

"Conversation and a little music!" she declares proudly

You can't help but raise a questioning eyebrow, to which she responds "What? When's the last time you just lounged around and had a good, long conversation?" Seeing the look on your face, she quickly adds, "When I say good, I mean not involving Twilight Sparkle interrogating you about every possible detail of the world you came from."

You close your mouth, and the two of you share a smirk before you chuckle and say "Alright then. What are we listening to?"

"A little traditional Zebrican music, as interpreted and performed by the Royal Canterlot Symphony. Zecora actually recommended it to me."

You have to admit that you're intrigued. Zecora herself plays a native Zebrican flute, and you've grown quite fond of it, so any music from her homeland instantly has you interested.

The song opens up with a very lonely and very familiar sounding flute, whistling a soft, bittersweet melody. Within a few measures the melody is joined by a quiet string section and some light percussion, before finally being completed by a solitary female voice singing what you can only imagine is a lullaby.

All in all you'd describe it as rich, warm, and very relaxing.

You get up and walk over to Cheerilee, who's pulled out a couple of resting couches from behind a row of cubbies. You offer her an indulgent smile as you flop yourself down, which she returns as she climbs up onto her own. You close your eyes and stretch out, happy to just relax and listen to the music for a moment, before asking, "so, was there anything in particular you wanted to 'conversate' about?"

"I suppose we could start with a lecture about using non-existent words when talking with a teacher," she responds in mock irritation, "but I think I've got something more interesting."

"Which is?"

"Tell me a little about your old home."

You sit up a bit, your face scrunching up as you give her a questioning look. "Didn't you just say that this wasn't going to be like a Twilight QnA session?"

She smiles and shakes her head. "Relax. I'm not going to ask about every little nuance of human society. I'm more curious about. . . Oh, I dunno. . . How about this; what was the best place you ever visited back in your old world?    "

You close your eyes and think about it for a moment. A little homesickness accompanies your memories, but oddly, the music playing in the background makes it easy to ignore. It takes a while, but eventually you respond, "Hawaii."

"Hawaii?" she asks, repeating the word to herself a couple times. "That's sure a strange name. What is it?"

"A small chain of islands, out in the middle of our biggest ocean. A long time ago, my family and I visited one of them. I can't remember which island we went to, but I'll never forget the trip itself." You close your eyes again and sigh, lost in a chain of happy remembrances.

"What was so great about it?" she encourages.

"The better question is what wasn't great about it. The island is pretty isolated, so it was nice and quiet. The weather was about as perfect as perfect gets. There were waterfalls all over the place, and everywhere, everywhere there was green. The whole island was green, and verdant, and. . . well, alive. You couldn't go outside without feeling how alive it was." You sigh nostalgically. "It was peaceful in a way I don't really have the words to describe."

While you can't see her, you can almost feel Cheerilee smiling along with you as she murmurs, "It sounds amazing. I bet it's a great place to just take a deep breath and relax. No worries. Just slowing down and letting go of all your troubles."

You take a slow, easy breath. "That it is."

"Tell me about the most relaxing experience you had there."

You pause to focus on an especially beautiful flute and violin duet before answering, "I remember one waterfall in particular. To get there you had to endure a pretty tough hike that took you along coastal mountainsides, through jungle, and across a few smaller waterfalls." Your brow furrows a bit in concentration. "I can't remember what it was called, but I do remember it having some crazy name that I could never seem to pronounce right."

She giggles quietly before saying, "What was the waterfall itself like? I wanna hear every detail."

You smile again. "I'm not really sure where to start."

"Well, start by taking a deep breath,"-which you do, not really thinking about it-"aaaaand go!"

"You could hear the falls for a long time before you could see them. You've just followed this river through miles of thick jungle, and every time you come to a bend you think 'this will be it', but for a good while, you're wrong. You’re hot, sweaty, and tired, but you can hear it, so you just keep following the sound."

"Following the sound," she says almost contemplatively. "So you're following the sound, and then. . . ?"

"Um, then eventually you turn a corner and there you see it.

"Can you picture it for me?" she asks softly. "You've just turned that corner, and you're seeing the waterfall for the first time. Can walk me through what you see?"

"Of course," you say thickly. "In front of me there's this towering, three hundred foot wall of stone, grey and black and covered with plants all the way up. At the very top there's a little gap, and from that gap a waterfall is streaming its way down the mountainside. About halfway down the wall of rock there's a huge indentation, like a giant came and scooped out a section of the mountain. Where the hole begins, the waterfall becomes a curtain of mist as it falls down into a giant, crystal clear pool." You can't help but smile at the recollection. You swear you can almost see the falls in front of you.

"It sounds mesmerizing," comes Cheerilee's voice from somewhere behind you. You give an affirmative hum, to which she responds, "Hey, tell me if this makes you uncomfortable, okay?" Before your sluggish mind is even able to question what? you feel her hooves press gently but firmly down onto your shoulders. You instantly feel yourself tensing up. . . and yet for some reason the usual feeling of discomfort is nowhere to be found. You sit, vaguely confused as she begins to carefully knead the muscles in your shoulders and neck. You know that you should be feeling weirded out right now, but for some reason you just can't summon the will to care. In spite of yourself, you have to admit that what she's doing feels amazing, and you eventually decide that you're too relaxed to resist.

"Is this okay?" you hear her whisper in your ear.

Normally, your response would be something snarky like, "I guess, but I hope you understand what a privilege it is. No other pony in Equestria can get away with doing what you're doing." In your current state, however, all you can manage is a bleary, "Only for you, Cheers."

"Call me Cheerilee."

"Yes, Cheerilee."

You can hear a smile in her voice as she says, "Keep going."

You can't help but smile vacantly yourself as you continue, "I walk toward the falls through this field of giant boulders that border the pool. From a distance the water looks dark, but as I get closer I can see that it's actually just reflecting the cliffs that surround in, and that its really crystal clear. I walk even closer, and I begin to feel the mist coming off of the falls. It's tingly, and wonderfully cool after the ordeal of the hike. I continue on, stepping into the shadow of the cliffs as I approach the edge of the pool, and find a nice flat spot to rest. I let my pack fall to the ground and sit, unlace my boots, toss 'em to the side, and wiggle my toes around. Finally, I have some water and lay back. The rock underneath me feels cool and coarse. I close my eyes, stretch out, and relax, enjoying the sound of rushing water as the mist brushes my skin."

"You must be tired by now," she breathes. "Your whole body must feel heavy. Isn't it wonderful to just let go and relax completely?"

You manage to mumble, "Mm-hm."

"You're more relaxed than you've ever been, aren't you?"

"Mm-hm."

"You're so deeply relaxed that you couldn't open your eyes if you wanted to, could you?"

". . . Mm-mm"

She's barely whispering now, but you can make out every word. "So relaxed. So tired. So sleepy. . ."

"Hm. Sleepy."

"You can feel yourself sinking down."

"Hm."

"Now, sleep."

". . .What?" Somewhere deep in your mind, muffled beneath the weight of your relaxation, a single mental alarm starts clanging. Your brow creases as you try to focus your hazy thoughts long enough to figure out what's wrong. Worried, but not sure why, you force your heavy eyelids to crack open.

You make out the fuzzy shape of Cheerilee hovering right in front of your face. You can't really be sure of anything right now, but she looks almost as if she's trying to fight back panic, like a foal who's caught doing something they know is wrong. Seeing her like that concerns you, but like everything else your concern feels. . . Heavy. Hazy. Disconnected. "Cheerilee," you manage to slur, "what's hap-"

"Shh," she whispers, placing a hoof to your lips. You look down at it uncertainly for what feels like a long moment, until an implacable voice says, "Look at me."

As you slowly raise your eyes, you come to the vague realization that Cheerilee's voice is the only thing you can hear right now. Her tone is strange, caught somewhere between that teacherly authority and a desperate plea from a friend, and you find the combination compelling you to listen.

After what feels like an eternity your eyes meet hers, and she murmurs quietly, "Look in my eyes."

“Cheerilee, I-”

"Trust me."

You stare deeply into those verdant pools, utterly transfixed, and stop questioning. Trust.

"Relax."

You feel all of your concerns from mere seconds ago melting away. Relax.

"Just let go."

Any thoughts remaining in your head evaporate like a desert puddle, leaving a profound, peaceful emptiness. Let go.

A relieved smile graces her lips as she moves her hoof around to cup your cheek.

"Sleep."

Your eyelids slide shut of their own accord and you feel yourself sink into warm, heavy, velvet blackness.

You drift listlessly for what may be seconds and may be hours before Cheerilee’s voice interrupts the silence. “If you can hear me, nod once.”

Your head feels heavier than a cider barrel, and yet it moves without effort as you give a single slow nod.

“Good. I want you to listen to my voice. Right now you’re feeling warm, and heavy, and relaxed, but I think you’ll find that you want to go even deeper, so just follow my voice as it takes you there. Every word I say relaxes you more, the more you relax the better you feel, and the better you feel the more you want to listen. Do you understand?”

Nod.

“Good. I’m going to start counting down from one hundred to one. With every number I count down, a wave of warmth, and calm, and heaviness will go through your body. With every number I count down, any thoughts or worries you might have will float farther and farther away as you sink deeper and deeper. When I reach one, you’ll be completely relaxed, and blank, and open to anything I tell you. Let’s begin.”

“One hundred.”

Within a few counts you’ve completely lost track of what number you’re on. You hear each one as Cheerilee says it, only for it to fade away with every wave of warm relaxation that courses through you. It isn’t long before you simply stop trying. You just let yourself sink down ever further each time you hear her voice.

At some point you become aware of Cheerilee’s hooves on your head as she begins slowly, delicately rotating it in time with each count. She brings it up, around, and lets it gently fall with every number she says. You don’t have the words to describe what each drop feels like, but you know that it’s taking you even deeper, and deeper is good.

By the time Cheerilee finally says, “One,” you’re gone. Your body is lead, but you’re floating. Your mind is equally heavy, yet there’s nothing in it. You simply drift, oblivious to space, time, and anything else that isn’t Cheerilee’s voice.

“Sleep,” she says again, bringing you somehow deeper. “So deep now, so relaxed, completely letting go. Can’t move, can’t think, all you can do is listen.” There’s pause. “Say it.”

“All I can do is listen,” you whisper, the words seemingly forming themselves.

You hear here chuckle. “Good. From now on everything I say is your new reality. Anything that I tell you, you will accept as the truth. Do you understand?”

Nod.

“Say it.”

“Anything you tell me, I will accept as the truth.”

“Very good. Now, look into my eyes again.”

Your eyes drift open, only to be instantly captured by Cheerilee’s own. Gone is the fear that they held earlier, replaced with absolute, almost smug confidence. “Whenever I ask or tell you anything, you will respond ‘Yes, Cheerilee’ or ‘No, Cheerilee’. Do you understand.”

“Yes, Cheerilee.”

She smiles. “Do you know what I did to you?”

“. . . No, Cheerilee.”

“I hypnotized you.”

“Yes, Cheerilee.”

“I control you.”

“Yes, Cheerilee.”

She brushes a hoof along your cheek. “I could do anything to you.”

“Yes, Cheerilee.”

“I could make you do anything, and I could make you like it.” 

“Yes, Cheerilee.”

She takes a deep breath and shudders as she exhales. “So many possibilities. . .” she whispers, before shaking herself and saying “First thing’s first, though. Hold out your hand.”

“Yes, Cheerilee,” you murmur, your hand drifting toward her.

She regards it for a moment before smiling. “I want you to run it through my mane, like you’re brushing it with your hand.”

“Yes, Cheerilee.” You place your fingers near the top of her head and move your hand slowly down her neck, trailing your fingers through her mane gently. The strands are smooth as silk and very light, and you entwine your fingers in them as your hand slides down.  She gives a happy sigh and pushes herself into your hand. “Keep going until I tell you to stop.”

“Yes, Cheerilee,” you respond mechanically, moving your hand back up to the top of her head.

For some time you continue to brush Cheerilee’s mane, the pony herself closing her eyes and sighing contently every so often. Eventually she looks at you, smug relaxation on her face, and says, “This is nice. You’re enjoying this.”

“Yes, Cheerilee.”

“You’ll want to do this more in the future, but for now, stop.”

“Yes, Cheerilee.” With one final stroke, your hand falls back to your side.

“You can stop saying ‘Yes, Cheerilee’ now,” she says, bringing a hoof to your forehead and pushing ever so delicately. “Sleep.”

Your head falls, and you plunge instantly back into the dark, heavy abyss of trance. As you drift, you become vaguely aware of a warm, furry presence touching down next to you. A limb snakes its way across your chest and pulls you into a firm embrace, and a warm breath tickles your neck as you hear the words, “Hold me.”

You slowly extend your arms, wrapping them around Cheerilee and pulling her delicately into your chest. She hums happily and snuggles even more firmly into your arms. “Mmm, now rub my back.” You comply, running your fingers delicately down her spine. She tenses for just a moment, then exhales heavily and melts against your touch. You hear her giggle quietly as she murmurs, “If only Lyra could see me now.”

You have no idea how long the two of you remain locked together. All you notice is the steady slowing of Cheerilee’s breathing until it seems that she’s barely breathing at all. Minutes pass like seconds, and seconds pass like minutes, as Cheerilee sleeps curled in your arms. You don’t mind. Cheerilee didn’t tell you to mind.

Eventually a deep inhale and a yawn tell you that she’s woken up. You feel her head lift off of your chest with a few content lip smacks, followed by a very long pause. “Oh, no,” you hear above you, “how long was I out?” You feel her extract herself from your arms, and another silence follows, during which you drift contently within the darkness of her hypnotic spell.

“Shoot,” you hear her whisper, and her voice grows hesitant as she asks, “Can you still hear me?”

Nod.

“Oh, thank Celestia,” she sighs in relief. “For a moment I thought I’d messed up everything. Now then,” she continues, her voice regaining the confidence it held before, “I want you to listen to me very carefully now. Look in my eyes one last time.”

Just like before, your eyelids slide open without thought or effort, and your eyes instantly lock on to Cheerilee’s as they fill your field of vision.

“Remember what I told you; everything I say is absolute truth. Do you understand?”

Nod.

“Good.” She brings her face to within an inch of your own and begins murmuring, “You enjoyed holding me. You enjoyed cuddling with me. You enjoyed stroking my mane. You enjoyed touching me, and you enjoyed being touched, didn’t you?”

Nod.

“This is your new reality. Being touched by ponies no longer bothers you. In fact, you really enjoy it. It makes you feel cared for. It makes you feel comfortable and at ease. You like the feel of our coats and manes. Do you understand?”

Nod.

“Say it. Physical contact with ponies no longer bothers me.”

“Physical contact with ponies no longer bothers me.”

She smiles. “Very good. Now, soon you’re going to wake up, and when you do you won’t remember any part of being hypnotized, but everything that I just told you will remain. Touching ponies will no longer make you uncomfortable, even when you’re awake. Tell me you understand.”

“I understand.”

“Very, very good.” She closes her eyes and nuzzles your cheek lightly, before whispering in your ear. “Sleep."

As before, you can do nothing but obey, falling backwards into the warm, empty embrace of oblivion.