UNTITLED (Pinkie Pie), by Unknown


                                            [Copied from https://pastebin.com/QN7CiPdn]


                                            >you know something is wrong when you see Pinkie’s face

                                            >walking through the door you see the lines of red on her pink cheeks

                                            >You drop your briefcase on the floor and take off your shoes, putting them by the door.


                                            “Hey, Pinkie, what’s wr-”


                                            >Ohhh.

                                            >Oh, you can see it, now.

                                            >it’s on the kitchen floor, and it’s a MESS.


                                            >The leftover homemade cobbler was in the fridge when you left

                                            >but now it’s all over the floor, broken glass container and all.

                                            >Pinkie sits next to it with a sniffle, and looks tentatively up at you


                                            >”Hi, masterrr.”


                                            >Boy, she knows she’s in for it.

                                            >Well, damn

                                            >You told her before you left, NO eating all the food in your refrigerator without your permission

                                            >she had raided your fridge too many times, and it was something you had told her more than once not to do

                                            >but here it was

                                            >the evidence of her disobedience

                                            >aaaall over the floor


                                            >Your heart beats fast

                                            >Pinkie cries in front of you, sitting beside her mess

                                            >knowing she was naughty while you were gone, again


                                            >but you aren’t mad.

                                            >I mean, disappointed, sure

                                            >at her, not respecting you enough to just do what you ask

                                            >and that your delicious cobbler was gone

                                            >but at the same time, you’re…

                                            >excited


                                            >The excitement you always had when Pinkie Pie just had to disobey you.


                                            >but you don’t let it show to her

                                            >You put on a stern face and look at her with seriousness

                                            >you shake your head, and point at the disaster on the floor tile


                                            “Pinkie Pie. What did I tell you before I left? What is this?”


                                            >Pinkie wilts

                                            >she cringes when she answers, stammering and squeaking her voice with regret


                                            >”The c-cobbler, master. I t-t-tried to k-keep it a secret, but I dropped it, and…”


                                            >Well, you can see that

                                            >but you didn’t ask the question because you didn’t know

                                            >it honestly just...

                                            >damn, it was so cute when she was guilty.

                                            >but you kept those feeling deep down and shook your head at her again.


                                            “Pinkie, this is a gigantic mess. You knew better, eh?”


                                            >She nods her little head, and wipes her weepy eyes.

                                            >you can feel your pulse in your fingertips, and you feel like you’re short of breath

                                            >it’s hard to maintain your tough gaze at her when you don’t feel mad

                                            >Pinkie doesn’t know better, though


                                            >“Yes, Master, I did, and I’m really, super duper sorry…”


                                            >That may be the case

                                            >But this was not going to be swept under the rug

                                            >you both knew what was happening next

                                            >you shake your head for the third time, and point at her mess again


                                            “I’m sure you are Pinkie, but you were very disobedient once again. You can’t seem to control yourself when it comes to food, and like I’ve said, when we have meals, you can eat then. But you just haven’t listened to me, have you?”


                                            >She shakes her head, and points her snout down at the floor.

                                            >You sigh.


                                            “That’s what I thought. So, I’m going to help you learn, so that the next time you want to do this, you’ll remember why it’s not such a good idea.”


                                            >now, here comes the calm, steady breathing.

                                            >The pressing your legs together

                                            >and tightening your leg muscles

                                            >keeping yourself under control…


                                            >Pinkie gives a puppy-like whine, and she gets up from the floor

                                            >She folds her hooves together, and dips her head in a low bow


                                            >“Master, I’m super sorry, y-you don’t have to…”


                                            >Oh shit, oh shit

                                            >here it comes

                                            >the word of the hour

                                            >the reason for your excitement


                                            >“...s-spank me!”


                                            >But you do.

                                            >She obviously needed it, you tell yourself

                                            >justify to yourself

                                            >after all, she did flagrantly disobey you again

                                            >and…

                                            >You didn’t get a chance to do this very often.


                                            >Pointing at the mess, you answer her with a direct order.


                                            “Oh no, Pinkie. You do, and you know it. Clean up this mess, make sure that floor is spotless. And when you’re done, you march right on over to my room, got it?”


                                            >And with that, you turn around, pointing to the mess one last time

                                            >Pinkie whimpers behind you, but you hear a “Yes, Master” in there somewhere

                                            >You walk to your room, and now that your front side is out of view, you can breathe just a little easier


                                            >Because right now, you’ve got a boner that you can NEVER let her know about.


                                            *minutes pass*


                                            >the paddle you bought was in the drawer

                                            >you remember when you first bought it

                                            >the day when you were at your wits end with Pinkie Pie, her adorable but exasperating behavior

                                            >You decided to do something about it


                                            >But you did care a lot about her

                                            >She was a sweet, kind, caring girl

                                            >so affectionate, nuzzling you all the time

                                            >snuggling with you on the sofa, giving you a shoulder rub after a hard day’s work

                                            >asking you about your day, smiling wide

                                            >and not to mention, she was a DYNAMITE baker and cook

                                            >And you loved hearing her talk, spending quality time with her


                                            >which is why you feel guilty about exactly what it was that you were going to do now.


                                            >You’re not a good person, are you?

                                            >you can’t be

                                            >I mean, sure she needed some discipline, the crazy pink puffball

                                            >and when you did this, it was effective for a long time afterwards

                                            >hell, she seemed to still like you just fine!

                                            >but that wasn’t why you chose it to begin with, was it?


                                            >You grab the pillow

                                            >sit down on the bed, and put it on top of your lap

                                            >over the slight protrusion in your jeans, so she wouldn’t see it

                                            >or feel it

                                            >just like the other times…


                                            >You put the little square paddle down next to you

                                            >these things were kind of abundant around here

                                            >it was the south, after all

                                            >hell, you got this one at a mom and pop store gift shop

                                            >boy, any kid whose parent got that from the shop wouldn’t exactly view it as much of a gift…


                                            >But it worked perfectly well

                                            >Even though it’s a kind of souvenir paddle

                                            >one of those silly ones with the engravings, a couple of flames with the words “HOT SEAT” written on it

                                            >Pinkie’s seat was certainly going to be flaming before you were done with her tonight...


                                            >There’s a moving shadow in the hall

                                            >It gets smaller and darker as it nears the entrance

                                            >getting closer very slowly, and you make out the shape of a pony on the wall

                                            >then, Pinkie Pie emerges through the door, and points her teary eyed face away from you

                                            >The bulge in your jeans twitches, but you keep it down

                                            >Pinkie’s eyes water and she wordlessly comes over to you

                                            >Boy, oh boy…

                                            >You nod your head approvingly


                                            “Good girl, Pinkie.”

                                            >Oh, shiiiiit

                                            >Yeah, you think you just leaked a little, uh, downstairs

                                            >You have so much luck that Pinkie listens to you when she’s in big trouble

                                            >You couldn’t get up and grab her with this rising erection in your pants

                                            >not without her seeing it, at least


                                            >You push those thoughts away when your quivering pink pony inches toward you

                                            >Pinkie Pie stammers


                                            >“I’m really s-s-super sorry, Master, honest. P-Pleaaase, it hu-hurts so much and it n-never ends...”


                                            “No, stop that right now.”


                                            >Pinkie squeaks, silenced by you

                                            >You never tolerated that kind of begging from her before.

                                            >She knows it won’t do any good

                                            >You’ve decided she should be punished, and she will be…


                                            >no matter what your angry conscience screams at you… telling you to stop… telling you to just look at Pinkie’s terrified face…


                                            >You pat your pillow covered lap

                                            “You disobeyed me again, Pinkie, and you are going to get a spanking for it. Up, now, so we can get this done.”


                                            >Your tone is much firmer and angrier sounding than it ever is

                                            >Because of this, Pinkie gulps and just nods her head, and begins to do what you commanded her

                                            >Pinkie shakes uncontrollably as she reaches up with her hooves

                                            >she puts them next to your lap and pulls herself on top of your bed


                                            >from there, you take over

                                            >you reach underneath her, and lift her up and over your pillow covered lap

                                            >a hand firmly pins her down, and she lies flat across

                                            >even through the pillow you can feel her fast breathing expanding her ribcage

                                            >and her crying already starting, too…


                                            >You push that out of your mind

                                            >you try to forget for a moment what her bright smile looks like, or the sound of her laughter

                                            >thoughts of her happiness, genuine happiness being with you

                                            >the guilt knowing what you really feel having her laying over your legs

                                            >all the things that would make that twitching bump in your jeans get smaller...


                                            >No better way to push those thoughts away than just getting this started

                                            >You grab the paddle, and lay it flat over her pudgy pink rear end

                                            >the “HOT SEAT” flaming logo faces up

                                            >that wood is cold, and Pinkie Pie flinches and squeezes her butt muscles when she feels it, and covers her head with her wiggly front legs


                                            >bracing herself...