The Fillies Strike Back by DCFTEF

(Apple Bloom / Chip Mint)

f/m, bent over, carpet beater, non-consensual

 

(03/06/2016)

 

 

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Chip Mint had lost track of how far he'd been galloping. With the bag over his head (which smelled of peanut butter) it was impossible to tell where he was now. It had been stupid to go down to the river that passed through Sweet Apple Acres alone.

Now Chip was at the mercy of his most dreaded enemies...the Fillies of Ponyville.

 

That sounded like Sweetie Belle...yeah, totally Sweetie Belle. Chip tried to take a careful step but still stumbled on one of the cross-boards of the ramp.

Secret Base?

Did the fillies have a hide-out that colt spies had not discovered yet? They had marched him a long distance since capture.

With a filly on either side of him, Chip Mint was carefully led up the ramp, which took a right-angle turn onto another ramp before it leveled out.

This new voice was clearly Scootaloo. Her voice was easy to recognize.

Grudgingly, Chip Mint shut his mouth. It was part of the game; the fillies had caught him fair and square, now he was at their mercy. Soon he was tied up too tightly to run away, rough hemp rope binding his cannons front and rear.

 

Chip gasped for air, grateful to finally be rid of the peanut butter smell.

Zipporwhill zoomed up to his face and snapped;

Chip just rolled his eyes.

Sweetie Belle stuck her nose in the air and replied;

 

Scootaloo seemed to be filling the position of leader...she presided over a group of about 15 fillies, most of whom Chip knew from school, calling the meeting to order by banging a rock on a crudely built podium.

Twist blew a fanfare on her kazoo.

Chip Mint scoffed;

Scootaloo ignored him and continued;

Peachy Pie snapped at the prisoner;

Chip wasn't impressed.

Diamond Tiara was next to speak;

 

Zipporwhill buzzed around the restrained captive and threw down the gauntlet of accusation.

All the fillies snickered when she put it that way.

 

Scootaloo got them back on track.

But before they could begin Boysenberry raised her hoof.

Scootaloo dismissed the suggestion;

But Boysenberry insisted;

 

The vote was close, but it was decided that no pony liked warm fruit punch so the interrogation would have to wait. Scootaloo confirmed the result and Silver Spoon entered it into the official record.

Chip Mint's eyes grew wide.

 

Apple Bloom, who was responsible for restraints by virtue of the fact that she was able to beg a coil of rope from her big brother, allowed Chip one free arm.

Scootaloo groaned.

So as he waited to be tortured, Chip Mint was given several triangular sandwich wedges and a paper cup of chilled fruit punch. He had to give the fillies credit for that at least; no pony ever thought to bring refreshments to the colts' meetings.

 

There was yet more.

Once the fillies had their fill of peanut butter & jelly sandwiches, Cotton Cloudy passed a box around, eventually reaching Chip.

A murmur went through the crowd of fillies. The sentiment was unanimous. Cotton's mother had won the Blue Ribbon for best cookies two years running at the Ponyville Days bake-off competition. Denying any pony, even a gross, dumb colt prisoner those definitely constituted a grievous and unforgivable war crime.

 

Appetites sated at last, Scootaloo moved to get the meeting back on track.

Chip Mint gulped nervously and stuffed another sandwich wedge into his mouth.

But he was only stalling and the fillies were not having it.

 

At Scootaloo's command two grim looking fillies dragged out an old toy-chest covered in menacing skull and cross-bone stickers. Chip trembled as he imagined what horrors lay inside, but the truth would exceed his most terrible nightmares.

The re-purposed toy box was opened with an ominous creak and out came a ghastly assemblage of crinoline, lace and glossy pink satin, stitched together into something that could arguably be called a dress.

Apple Bloom immediately rebuked her;

But it was Sweetie herself who backed Silver Spoon up.

She leaned in to whisper wickedly in Chip's ear.

 

Chip lost his nerve...badly.

He struggled against the ropes that restrained him, to no avail. The only knot Apple Bloom knew was a bow knot, but she was really good at those so they did not slip loose. Chip realized he was doomed and cried real, terrified tears.

Scootaloo grinned and asked;

With a derisive snort Scootaloo spelled his doom;

 

Outnumbered 15 to 1, Chip Mint didn't have a chance. The fillies held him down, dressed him in the awful frock and even made him wear the sissy ruffled socks. Helpless, he wished and prayed to Celestia that none of the guys would mount a rescue mission. If they saw him like this he'd never live it down.

Before he knew what was happening the fillies pulled Chip to his back hooves and Twist snapped a photo.

Instead Twist hid the camera someplace safe.

Scootaloo leaned over her podium;

No filly believed him. They were ready for the next step.

 

Chip Mint struggled but had no more luck than he did avoiding the frilly dress. The fillies bent him over across the arched lid of the toy box and used the same ropes he'd been tied up with to secure him. Soon he was in that awkward, awful position no foal ever wants to find themselves in...face down, rump high in the air...helpless.

 

Chip gasped in terror.

Again, it was Sweetie Belle who offered an alternate point of view.

 

Sunny Daze galloped over to Scootaloo's podium and whispered in her ear.

Sunny shook her head.

 

Scootaloo face-hoofed again. They were stuck without a spanking implement.

As leader of the meeting Scootaloo felt responsible for its success.

She groaned;

 

Boysenberry explained;

 

The fillies disagreed. All of them knew hairbrushes were PLENTY scary.

 

Sunny Daze interrupted them;

She offered a weird looking tool. It was made of light rattan, had a long handle and a broad, woven face.

Only Diamond Tiara seemed to know what it was;

The fillies all gathered close to inspect it.

Chip Mint was obviously outvoted.

 

Apple Bloom was chosen to deliver the punishment. As she got a feel for the carpet beater with a few test swings, Scootaloo gave the prisoner one last opportunity...

Apple Bloom taunted him by swinging the carpet beater close to his head...out of Chip's line of sight but near his ear so he could hear its terrifying whoosh and feel the path it cut through the air. The colt trembled in grim anticipation.

 

Scootaloo raised her eyesbrows and continued;

This time the math error came out in his favor, so Chip Mint kept his mouth shut.

 

It was a weird sensation, feeling his skirt lifted away by Cotton Cloud. As much as Chip hated the frilly pink dress he wished it was still covering his rear-end. When Zipporwhill flew over to grab his tail and hold it out of the way his exposure was complete.

 

At least Apple Bloom, who had a big brother, showed some concern for his most vulnerable bits.

 

That was the last thing any filly said to him. Chip Mint gulped and tensed up, waiting for the first spank and wondering what it was going to feel like.

Apple Bloom tested her aim first, laying the carpet beater on his bottom gently. When he felt it cover his entire rump from his dock to the tops of his thighs Chip let out a little whimper in spite of himself. He desperately wanted to remain stoic and show these dumb fillies that they couldn't shake the resolve of a tough young stallion like him...but right now he felt as helpless as a little foal.

 

*Swish*.....*THWAP*!

Every filly cringed when Apple Bloom delivered the first smack. Chip couldn't help but give a little grunt...the carpet beater stung everywhere it struck and that was every square inch of his backside. The second whack was a little harder, as Apple Bloom got a feel for her instrument of torture, and by the third Chip's rump began to burn.

The tool Sunny Daze had provided did not weigh much but it had a long flexible handle so it was moving whip-fast when it struck. The result was no deep down bruising pain but a terrible surface burn. Chip Mint was sweating and twisting against the ropes before he began to cry but eventually, by the eighth whack, tears began rolling down his cheeks.

 

Scootaloo shrugged her shoulders and nodded to Apple Bloom.

 

Apple Bloom began laying on the heat. Each whack was harder now with no merciful pause between spanks. Chip gritted his teeth and tried not to cry out loud, but he couldn't control the tears. The colt sniffled, sobbed and whimpered, occasionally crying out when Bloom landed a particularly hard one.

The worst part was that the carpet beater struck the same place every time...everywhere. No small part of Chip's heinie was spared. There was no cool spot to move to when Bloom felt one sector had suffered enough. Each awful stroke covered the whole of his cheeks. No mercy, no respite.

Tears fell freely now on the floor of the tree-house. The fillies looked on in tense silence. They were resolved to getting the necessary information out of this colt but there was not a single one who did not feel a little empathy for his suffering. Most, if not all of them, had spent time paying for misdemeanors over a parental lap. They did not want to pardon him...but all the fillies wished poor Chip would break soon so this torture session could end.

Chip Mint could barely feel the individual spanks anymore. His rump was numb to the stings but the heat was misery and only getting worse. It felt like one of these fillies was secretly a dragoness, breathing fire directly on his poor, innocent rear.

 

 

Apple Bloom took a pause as all eyes turned to Dinky Hooves.

 

 

Jaws dropped all around the clubhouse...most of all Chip's.

Peachy blushed. Dinky was right, she had forgotten.

Relieved that her precious doll was not in the hooves of nefarious, smelly colts, Peachy smiled and replied;

Dinky agreed with a smile.

 

Crisis resolved, attention turned back to the prisoner.

All the fillies felt embarrassed now, most of all Scootaloo, who was playing leader today.

Chip snorted and snapped back;

With that fresh insult, Scootaloo made her pronouncement.

 

All eyes turned to Apple Bloom, who shrugged her shoulders.

Once again it was left to Scootaloo to make the decision.

 

Apple Bloom delivered those final ten with vigor, but allowed merciful pauses between strokes. Chip had no more resistance left in him...he wept openly as the final punishment was applied to his rear.

*THWAP*

*THWAP*

*THWAP*

And with that the prisoner was untied. Chip Mint didn't care that he was still wearing the pink frilly dress...all he wanted to do was rub his sore, burning butt.

Chip scowled and made them wait for his reply. Right now his bottom was more important than their worries.

A collective sigh of relief swept through the tree-house.

 

Scootaloo made a conciliatory gesture;

Chip struggled out of the frilly dress. A few fillies stepped forward to help him but a growl from the colt let them know he wasn't in the mood.

 

Apple Bloom offered some advice.

And Cotton Cloud made another offering;

Chip wanted to spurn her gift, but these were the recipe that had won the Ponyville bake-off two years running. Even though he was angry, he accepted.

 

And with that he stomped out, leaving the fillies feeling guilty and embarrassed.

Scootaloo groaned.

And so the war went on.

 

END