Aftermath by Anon


                                            Aftermath by Anon

                                            (Guard / Spitfire)

                                            no spanking


                                            (23/04/2013)


                                            https://desuarchive.org/mlp/thread/10038518/#q10055936


                                            ---


                                            >Spitfire, Captain of the famous Wonderbolts, had committed a crime.

                                            >Punishment? 50 hard ones on the rump. HARD ONES.

                                            >I was given two choices, either carry out the punishment myself in front of a private audience and be the one to hurt my perfect little pony....

                                            >Or, I could refuse and let it be done by a professional in Ponyville's town square.

                                            >I...I couldn't do it.

                                            >That was three days ago, and I hadn't seen her since.

                                            >Not until today at least, when I sat alone by the river, and she appeared beside me with every ounce of speed and agility that she'd had before, so obviously the injuries weren't too bad.

                                            >But she won't look at me, and she won't sit down.

                                            "Spitfire."

                                            >"Mmm."

                                            >Conversation is forced, both of us dodging around the obvious, imminent questions.

                                            "...Does it hurt?"

                                            >"Yes... Not as much now."

                                            "So... Have you told the other Wonder-"

                                            >"No, not like I have to."

                                            "Oh..."

                                            >She's mad, I can hear it in her voice. Spitfire is usually a great actor, being surrounded by fans all the time made her very good at hiding her real feelings, but that skill, unlike her flying abilities, has suffered from the punishment.

                                            "Look, Spitfire, I'm really sorry."

                                            >She says nothing, moves not an inch.

                                            "...The guard... I mean, I wasn't there, but I heard he hit pretty hard and, he should have been easier on you."

                                            >Still nothing, her eyes twitch about in thought.

                                            "Maybe... I could've done it and... Not hit you so hard."

                                            >"No."

                                            "Huh?"

                                            >"No, you weren't there... I looked for you while he was doing it. And no, you could not have hit softer."

                                            "...You looked for me?"

                                            >"The guards are shown how to use the paddle. They would have shown you."

                                            "Should I have come?"

                                            >"Yes... Yes you should have."

                                            "Spitfire, I'm sorry. I just couldn't... I couldn't watch them hurt you."

                                            >She bites her lip and her eyes harden, and the words come harder now as well.

                                            >"I know you couldn't. That's why you left me."

                                            >I wasn't expecting that.

                                            "What? I... I thought you wouldn't want me there."

                                            >"Anon, you know why I didn't choose one of my teammates to carry out the punishment?"

                                            "...Why?"

                                            >"Because I trusted you the most."

                                            >...

                                            "...Trusted?"

                                            >Spitfire hesitated, but then nodded to affirm her choice of words... And all implications that came with it.

                                            "Hey, you know what? I did what I thought was right, okay? How could you expect me to hit you?"

                                            >She wanted me to hurt her... And get paid for it. 50 bits, one for each strike, if I'd done it.

                                            "You know what? You still got off easy, you know that?"

                                            >Before she can respond, I stand and point at her accusingly.

                                            "On my fucking planet, when people get drunk and break shit, they go to prison. PRISON, Spitfire! Ask an inmate if he'd rather spend a year or two in a cell or if he'd rather be spanked in public and I bet he'd trade places with you REAL quick!"

                                            >She flies up to meet my eyes. Hers are fiery and enraged.

                                            >"ANON I'M A WONDERBOLT! I'M A CELEBRITY! I-I HAD FILLIES HOLDING UP AUTOGRAPHS TO ME WHEN THE GUARDS WERE TAKING ME TO THE SQUARE!"

                                            >Tears erupt from Spitfire's eyes. I'd never seen her cry before, and it hits me harder than 100 paddlings ever could.

                                            >"They... T-they didn't even know why I was there. They didn't know about the damage. They t-thought I was there for a show and..."

                                            >She ceases flapping her wings and plops back on the ground, wincing from the wounds to her rear.

                                            >"...They watched... They all watched."

                                            >I wipe my own eyes, I didn't think it would hurt her like this... How could the ponies in Ponyville come out to watch an idol get tortured? They were supposed to be peace-loving and... Understanding.

                                            >"Rainbow Dash was there."

                                            "Who?"

                                            >"Rainbow... Mare from... The Academy."

                                            >Oh right, she'd told me before about the weird looking rainbow-haired girl that set all the new academy records.... Big fan of hers.

                                            >"And I just... I just t-thought that...."

                                            "Spitfire..."

                                            >"A-anon... You had to be there! I-I needed you. You're my... I needed you!"

                                            >She sobs into the grass for a bit. I wanted to put my arms around her like I have many times before... But I knew right then, and forever, things were different. So I stood there, sweating and crying and whimpering and... Looking at all the good I'd done.

                                            >Her eyes poke up from behind the dewy grass and scream out at me in their own way. They curse me to die and beg me to understand her pain in a way I just could not.

                                            >Her muffled whimpers are almost too silent to hear, but I couldn't even pretend not to.

                                            >"I was a r-r-role m-model..."

                                            >Her eyes are lost again under the grass and her wetted, drooping mane.

                                            >"Nopony... Will look up to me now."

                                            >The weight of my actions crushes me down to my knees. I crumple before her and my arms go slack. I try to convince myself it wasn't as bad as it seemed.

                                            "Just... It was j-just Ponyville. You can... Go anywhere else and..."

                                            >I trail off as I watch her struggle to rise again, brandishing a rekindled fire of something far more poisonous than anger.

                                            >Hatred. A powerful, piercing abomination of an emotion.

                                            >"Anon... Anon there were CAMERAS!"

                                            >She screams at me so loud, I think my ears will pop. I only slump my back further downward.

                                            >"EVERYONE KNOWS! EVERYONE SEES! YOU IDIOT!"

                                            >My eyes clamp closed and I shut off as I'm relentlessly beaten by her scathing assault like a rock being smashed against by the waves of the sea... Or more like a lump of sugar.

                                            >"YOU HAD TO DO IT! I BEGGED YOU! A-AND YOU RAN AWAY!"

                                            >I can't open my eyes. I can only let my tears run wildly down my face as I hear her face drop back to the grass, and her hooves thud again and again on the dirt. She keeps screaming, but all her vengeful, daggers of words are stabbed uselessly into the Earth.

                                            >That is the point when I realize that I'm already dead. But my body is just as stupid as my mind, so my heart beats stubbornly on.

                                            >No more noise, no more screaming or thudding.

                                            >Just a long, broken, pitiful moan from the failing lungs of a dead beast.

                                            >I realize that it is me.

                                            >God in Heaven, Lord Jesus, all the angels and saints and clergy... If any of you are true, and real, and hold in your hands the souls of men, hear this plea from another realm.

                                            >Damn me to Hell. Torture me in every way I fear.

                                            >I don't hear her rise again. My eyes remain shut.

                                            >I don't hear her sniffling and taking back control of her shaky breathing.

                                            >I don't hear her clear her throat and sigh.

                                            >"Anon."

                                            >There's nothing anywhere anymore.

                                            >"I'm... Sorry you had to see that."

                                            >Why does she stay? Why does she keep prodding at this carcass?

                                            >"I have few more days off, and then I'm expected back in Canterlot to speak to my team... And the Princesses..."

                                            >I finally hear a nervous chuckle in the dark.

                                            >"...And probably tons of fans, too."

                                            >I ignore it, hoping it will leave me to my fate.

                                            >Instead of death, a hoof reaches to me and prods my chest. I crack my eyes open again and see her blurry face through the water and sunlight.

                                            >Christ, she's beautiful. Even when she's not trying, which is always.

                                            >And now, with her usually tall mane drooping down over one eye and across one side of her neck, and with the dried tears and grass stuck to her face, and with her tired eyes and sad smile, she was beautiful in ways which I'd never hoped to see her.

                                            >A sad, tragic beauty. A Phoenix that had fallen from grace, crashing and burning in spectacular fashion, leaving dying embers behind to whisper a sad melody that had once brought glee to any in its presence.

                                            >These ashes, I created. I shot her down when I left her to the mercy of Equestria. I even watched her burn out right in front of me, and though the flames killed me, I did nothing to save her.

                                            >"Anon, I'm going to leave now."

                                            >I don't move, I only watch her.

                                            >"You... Tried to do the right thing."

                                            >She wastes her breath. I'm more detached from this world now than I've ever been from humanity.

                                            >"Goodbye."

                                            >She lingers, the nods her head to me, then turns and speeds away. Destined for Canterlot, she is. But not me, not now.

                                            >I'll do one selfless thing for her: I won't come back. I'll leave her to be the perfect, beautiful Phoenix she's meant to be.

                                            >I watch her bright orange form fly over the hills and trees and out of sight.