A Costly Solution by KrishnaKarnak

(Fancy Pants / Rarity)

brush, M/F

 

(03/02/2017)

 

 

---

 

Rarity finished cleaning up her Canterlot flat, just above her speciality boutique. She fluffed the cushions on her couch and stuffed them in either arm corner. Turning to face her grandfather clock, she saw that it was five minutes until 8.

 

“Maybe you'd wouldn't be in this mess if you didn't get a fancy couch and the most expensive clock you could find at the Germane Woodworks shop…” she scolded herself, sinking onto the couch and chewing her lip.

 

She was in financial straits. Not 'let’s eat at McDressage for dinner this week instead of buying fresh produce’ money problems, either. More like 'I need to close down in both Canterlot and Manehattan and move home’ straits. New clients had to default on their wildly expensive orders. Unfortunately for Rarity, she hadn't asked for a downpayment as a sign of her generosity and good faith in her customers. Now, she had sourced expensive materials from a supplier, prioritized these pricy dresses, and had no one to buy them! Throw in a joint venture partner who hasn't paid her yet, and now she is behind on her property taxes. All of them.

 

The last thing she wanted to do was ask her father for a loan. While it would dig her out of this grave, she'd never be able to live with the shame. Her father, Hondo Flanks, had a bait shop chain leading all the way to Baltimare. ‘Magnum Tackle Box’ was the name, a play on the size of his selection. All he did was was save up, buy new locations, save up, pay them off, save up, buy new locations, save up, close stores that weren't pulling a profit, and every now and then, he'd save up.

 

All she had to do was take the train down to Ponyville first… then she could keep her doors open everywhere until she was back on her hooves. But she wouldn't do it. Rarity had stumbled upon another solution. She didn’t need to bother her father.

 

“Good evening, Miss Rarity,” Fancy Pants said by way of a cheerful greeting as she answered his knock.

She was already flustered. Ignoring the chink of coins in his saddlebags, Rarity lead him into her lounge. Fancy Pants lit his horn and deposited the bag into a distant armchair with a noisy jingle and she heard some bits cascading over one another. Her heart was racing; the solution to her money issues was here and beckoning her.

 

“C-can I get you a cup of t-tea, sir?” she asked breathlessly.

 

“Now, now, Rarity, there's no need to be nervous. I don't want you to feel pressured. Really.” There was earnesty all over his face. “I'll take an earl gray, thank you. And some shortbread cookies!” he added in a quick, excited afterthought. “I saw you at that bakery yesterday, miss!”

 

Rarity smiled at the friendly, flirtatious way his voice sounded when he spoke of pastries. He was like a buoyant child. And, she mussed, moving into her kitchen to put the kettle on, why shouldn't he be? If Fleur de Lis was right, he'd finally be getting what he wanted. And she'd get what she wanted and needed, she supposed. This would be an easy transaction and she was happy to help a pony she looked up to as much as Fancy.

 

Once she returned, Rarity set a tray on the coffee table. Fancy had positioned himself in the middle of the couch, legs folded, quite at his ease as he watched her. Rarity magicked over the armchair and very, very nonchalantly (and carefully) set the bag aside. Sitting herself across from him, she lowered the teabags into cups, levitated them onto saucers, and poured the kettle into each.

 

“Enjoy!” she said graciously as he took his cup and saucer.

 

“Mmm, fanks,” he replied, already having crammed one of the cookies off the tray and into his mouth.

Rara took one herself and ate it with a touch more dignity. She poured some milk and sugar into her tea and stirred it, before sipping the soothing beverage. For a brief moment, there was silence but for the two unicorns eating and drinking, but after his second cookie, Fancy Pants broke the silence.

 

“So, to business, ma'am,” he said promptly, nodding to the saddlebags. “I've brought four hundred; three to get you out of your debts, twenty five for your transport, and seventy five because I insist on having you at my fundraising ball this coming Friday! I'm anxious to see the gown you will present to Princess Celestia. If we part this evening without going forward, take the seventy five as a gift.”

 

Rarity had to cover her mouth with a hoof. She hadn't realized it was hanging open. Once her jaw was functioning properly again, she replied quickly.

 

“Fancy, I simply cannot thank you enough for this! This eases my worries immensely… I admit, I feared I would need to abandon this foolhardy dream of mine to be… you know, the premier fashionista of the eastern seaboard.”

 

“Foolhardy?” Fancy guffawed. “Don't be ridiculous, there's nopony better, none at all!” He hesitated for a moment, taking another sip of tea. Rarity noticed immediately that he was flustered. “Rarity, my dear, I think if we don't address the ursa in the room, I'll never muster the courage to face the discussion…”

 

“You… haven't done this before, Fancy?” she dared ask. “I-I mean, obviously you must have, so no need t-to be nervous! I'm nopony yet! I mean…” Rarity laid her saucer down and cupped her face. “I'm making a pig's ass of this, pardon my language.”

 

Fancy had to laugh, leaning back on the couch leisurely. “No, Rarity, I am the swine arse… Listen, this is something… aah, rather, I've cherished certain, shall I say, brutish fancies since I was a young stallion…”

Rarity felt herself growing red, as though his embarrassment was infectious. “Want me to start?” she offered.

 

Fancy waved a hoof in airy agreement, averting his eyes.

 

“I was discussing my woes with Minuette,” Rara went on, leaning back herself to keep the air casual. “Fleur de Lis overheard me and sought me out privately… and, um, she told me you were looking for somepony to try it with and that you'd pay.”

 

Rarity suddenly felt aghast with herself for being so blunt. What, was she some sort of harlot who took bits for the offer of pleasures? No, she should try to speak with a little more fluffiness.

 

“Mmm, she's very good about it,” Fancy said, rubbing the back of his mane and removing his monocle. “It's not something I can do with her; she's far too delicate, the lamb, and a model cannot have blemishes upon her. She understands that this is completely non…” He cleared his throat. “Non sexual. I mean… it is, and it isn't. It may be for me, I can't promise I can hide it.” Now Fancy Pants was the one cupping his face. “I give you my sincerest assurances that I will remain the gentlecolt and you have no obligations for anything.”

 

Rarity nodded, feeling very hot and bothered herself. Now that they were properly discussing it, the unease she had nested all evening had returned. The relief of the bits had pushed any negative feelings to the back of her mind, but now it was all bubbling to the surface. To be in such a prone and compromising position with Fancy Pants was so shocking, it was surreal. And yet, she felt happy to endure some embarrassment and a few moments of discomfort and pain to give him something he so desperately desired, because she fancied Fancy Pants, no matter how much she tried to hide it. And most importantly of all, she needed those bits. Her career depended on them.

“It's fine, really,” she said gently, leaning forward and extending a hoof across the table, smiling in spite of her shyness. “Fleur is fine with it, and so am I. It really would not disturb me in the slightest if you got arousal from this,” she said as straight faced as possibly, adding 'Celestia knows I'll busy myself with the memory of your arousal half the night’ to herself in her head.

 

Fancy breathe a sigh of relief. He finished his tea and ate another biscuit, tapping his hoof idly on the cushion and did his best to keep his eyes on her. Once he seemed in control of himself again, he began anew.

 

“Alright, so, Fleur had treated your financial troubles with secrecy, rest assured,” he explained, dabbing at his lips with a napkin. “She just specified the funds for whatever debt and what you'd need for some train travel. Though I cannot say that I am not personally intrigued with the finer details. That is to say, if you're comfortable with explaining!”

 

Rarity considered him for a moment. She didn't reeeaaally want to break it all down, but he was nevertheless doing her an enormous favour. So, she thought, why not?

 

“You're familiar with my three locations, Fancy?” He nodded. “Well, I've had a taste of the high life as of yet…” She glanced awkwardly at her grandfather clock… and the expensive, fancy kettle and drinkware. “And, in addition, I've spread myself rather, um, thin. Too many clients, too many partners, without ensuring I had emergency funds in the event that some logistical mishap or late payments would occur. Once the well dried up, the village grew thirsty,” she summarized. “So, I believe our arrangement would really benefit us both.”

 

“Indeed,” Fancy said, nodding. “Four hundred bits hardly is a hiccup to my coffers, and you'll get out of debt and learn a valuable lesson, won't you?”

 

“Definitely worth a little… spanking,” Rarity added, clapping her hooves.

 

“Well,” Fancy cut across her, blushing scarlet when she just threw the word out there, “I wouldn't consider it just a little sp-ah, uh, a little… scrapping, my dear, which is why I'm letting you take the extra seventy five! If you want to walk away, then no harm done.” He cleared his throat, flustered all over again. “T-take a hundred.”

 

Rarity felt like a nanny reassuring a frightened foal who had just bumped their head. Great heavens, what was he so nervous about? Rarity wasn't really nervous anymore, the more she thought on it: Fancy Pants was a sophisticated, high class entrepreneur, who wouldn't even strike his consort in consent of fear of marking her! What kind of spanking could he possibly dish out? Was he really so embarrassed of getting hard? She considered being a teasing little minx at that point.

 

'Wonder how he'd appreciate my thanks in the form of spreading my legs and giving him a peep?’ Then she quickly grew up. ‘Rarity, don't act like a whore!’

 

“We'll have none of that, Fancy Pants,” she answered. “We made a deal to meet and do this when we corresponded, and I'm not backing down! Don't fret over shame or embarrassment, let's get this done and I won't be insulted if you enjoy yourself. I'd be… flattered.” Rarity coughed and patted her hair, knowing her face had to be shining now.

 

“Alright. Alright, yes, let's do it,” he said with enthusiasm, illuminating his horn and moving the coffee table aside. He adjusted his position on the couch, centering himself perfectly, then looked over at her expectantly.

 

Rarity got out of her seat, took a steadying breath, then jerked her head and shoulders, stretching them. Now sufficiently pumped up, she crossed to him and paused.

 

“Which is your dominant side? Hoof, rather!”

 

“Ah, my right, thanks! Just come right… yes, right here, and lay across.”

Rarity did as instructed, moving to his right and preparing to climb across his knees. Immediately, her thoughts were back to fillyhood. She remembered the last spanking she had gotten. Her parents had insisted on giving her a babysitter for the weekend and Mrs. Cake had offered her services. One snobbish episode after another lead to the baker sitting in this same position, seizing her hooves, yanking her down, and brushing her rump a dark red back in her parents’ living room. She never cried so hard before… or since.

 

“Once and for all, are you okay with this?” He asked her, rolling up the sleeves of his suit as Rarity positioned herself. “Because once I begin, I have to insist on going to the end!”

 

Thoughts now back in her old bedroom facing down her father brandishing a belt, Rarity took a few moments to answer. Finally, she gave him a scratchy, nervous murmur, and tried to relax. She straightened her legs and folded her front hooves, lowering down and resting her chin upon them, like she was a pet ready for a good nap. She chewed her lip when she felt his hoof brush her backside. Oooh, this was going to be fun, she decided, squeezing her thighs together. Clearly, Fancy wasn't the only one going to get aroused.

 

Fancy touched her tail softly and Rarity swept it down over her side with unladylike enthusiasm, breathing through her nose and feeling her head flutter into the clouds. With the tail hanging off the side, he almost would've had a great view of her swelling lips. She had to remind herself that Fancy was only interested in her for this single event. He was, after all, happily involved with Fleur. Still, she imagined he would pleasure himself to this memory, and she'd be damned if she wasn't going to do the same.

Rarity gave a little playful squeak when Fancy Pants lifted his hoof and lightly slapped her right cheek. A poking against her belly told her that his dick was stiffening within his sheath and would soon creep out. She gave her cheeks a little flex for his enjoyment and waited. The next few smacks were in the same vein. After a hard one that left a sting, she let out an 'oooh’ and resumed the munching of her bottom lip, knowing full well she was wet.

 

“You're going to get a good… a good hard spanking, Rarity,” he told her, the confidence building in his voice. “Last and final chance to stop it. Do we proceed?”

 

The firm talk drove her wild. It took all of her restraint not to raise up her rump and belly and slide one of her hooves back towards her cunt. Instead, she tried to press herself against his dick.

 

“Mmm, yes, sir, please,” she breathed, totally lost in his siren song. “Punish me…”

 

Fancy reached down and took her right hoof. She allowed him to pull it back. When his other hoof pulled on her dock, she happily moved it for him. She laid her tail flat to her back, pushing up her fanny, letting him completely enjoy the sights of the Rarity train. He laid her hoof upon the tail and held it tightly there.

 

SMACK! Rarity gave a delightful hiss! Fancy’s hoof pressed hard into her shapely right cheek like he was kneading dough. SMACK! He slapped her left cheek firmly, sending a ripple of sensation through to her pussy. SMACK! SMACK! Rarity 'aaahhh'd. They were getting harder and more certain, and it was just right. SMACK! SMACK! His hoof bounced back and forth, jumping from cheek to cheek. Rarity felt the soothing heat spreading from each point of impact.

 

“Ooowiiieee!” she played along, shaking her bum at him. “I'll bruise, you rascal,” she flirted, wanting him to go on, maybe even a bit harder, to dial up her excitement.

She didn't exactly get what she wanted. SMACK, SMACK, SMACK! Oooh, those had a bite to them. Not so rough, handsome, she wanted to tell him, but he wrenched her hold tight at that moment and raised his leg. Her voice caught in her throat. SMACK! SMACK! Rarity tugged at his grip as the truth set upon her.

 

Fancy Pants’ first flurry of smacks weren't just a horny gentlecolt messing around. He was trying to find a rhythm and strength. His semi stiff dick pressed against her, making it a little hard to breathe, as he started to slap his hoof down with real authority.

 

“Aah! Aah! Ow! AH! FANCY, NOT SO HAAAAAHH!” Rarity's voice cracked as he thrust his leg up, stretching the skin on her thighs tight, and one of his slaps caught the undercurve. “OKAY, STOP, AAAH, STOP! I didn't know you were serious, Fancy!”

 

“Didn't know I was--” Fancy spluttered, a bite of impatience in his voice now. “Rarity, I gave you PLENTY,” SMACK, “OF,” SMACK, “CHANCES,” WHACK, “TO,” WHAP, “ESCAPE!”

 

“AAAHHH, NOT IN THE SAME SPOOOT!” she snapped at him, pushing against his lap now and twisting, seriously panicking.

 

“Watch your tone with me!” he scolded her, pushing her down with a combination of magic and his left hoof. “You're not in a position to get lippy!”

 

Rarity wanted to beat herself up. How could she be so stupid?! She even told him to punish her, for Celestia’s sake! He was seriously going to punish her, and she had given him both permission and the perfect reason to do so with her little confession.

 

He held her tightly in his lap, smacking her ass with some real force now. Rarity's legs went into a frenzy of kicks as he struggled to find a way to push herself off the couch, but Fancy wasn't allowing it. Sharp needled of pain were already stabbing through her skin. Rarity groaned in frustrated surrender, pulling so hard against his hoof’s grip that it hurt. Though not as much as his other hoof was slapping her rear.

 

“I must admit, after telling you how much I wanted to ACT THE GENTLECOLT,” he roared, giving each cheek a series of very hard smacks, making Rarity cry out in pain, “I am quite disgusted you would shake this ass at me! You are no SLUT, Rarity! You ought to be ashamed!”

 

His erection was dying down, though it did surge up slightly at her next words. Rarity's concentration was all in trying to fight the pain and resist it as much as possible. But there was no beating him.

 

“F-Fancy! P-please!” she begged pitifully, coughing as she started to cry, “I'm sorry!”

 

“Not yet, you're not, my dear,” he answered, making her howl out as he delivered a very fast barrage of heavy smacks, making her thrash in his lap, legs kicking wildly, forehooves gripping the arm of the couch for dear life.

 

Rarity bawled out, her eyes blurred blind with tears. The crying had proven a turn on for Fancy, as his dick grew harder and longer, uncomfortably tucked beneath her waist. Only then did it occur to her to use magic to escape, but she couldn't cast a proper levitation spell in this state. Just crying, she could, but not while getting her fanny tanned and while her body jerked and twisted.

 

That didn't stop her from trying.

 

“RARITY!” Fancy yelled, wrapping his hooves about her and yanking her up. He roughly swept her hooves onto the floor and stood her up, holding tight to both forehooves so she was reared up. “WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?”

 

“I'm, I'm, I'm s-sooorry!” she stuttered, hiccupping and terrified at the look on his face, tears streaming down either side of her face. “I C-CAN’T DO IT! It hurts too much!”

 

“I TOLD you if we got started properly that I was going to take this to the end! And now you're using magic against me? I do not think so!”

Rarity felt like a little filly again, the way he was talking down to her half way through giving her the whupping of a lifetime. She sobbed, unable to look him in the face, and knowing full well she already beyond the point of backing out. The main reason she agreed was for the monumental windfall of bits.

 

“If you're going to act like a bratty child, you're going to get your ass skinned like one! Go and fetch me your bath brush! March out to your bathroom this instant!” he demanded, twisting her around and giving her a hard slap to get her moving.

 

“NOOO, NOOO, NOT THAT!” Rarity was mortified; she'd never gotten anything worse than Cup Cake’s hairbrush.

 

“I mean it! You agreed to obey me when you agreed to get your naughty little fanny blistered! I said go, and don't you DARE use magic, young lady!”

 

Rarity galloped off, still crying openly. Her heart blasted in her chest as she imagined her upcoming fate. Her buttcheeks already hurt so much, she couldn't control her nerves. Her legs shook as she ran. How bruised and welted would she be in a few minutes time?

 

In her bathroom, she locked eyes on the weapon immediately. Her looong handled bathbrush was hanging from the shower wall, a little suction cup on a string keeping it glued to the clear glass of her shower door. Moving over to it, she paused, begging herself not to take it. She shook her head violently, saying 'no, no, no…’ to herself as she did so. Still shaking, she seized the handle with her teeth and pulled. With a puckered pop sound, it detached from the glass and she immediately felt the weight of the thick, intimidating tool.

 

The walk back to Fancy Pants could have taken either a month or the blink of an eye, she would never be sure whenever she would think back to tonight. He took the tool from her mouth and laid it on the couch, before taking her face between both hooves.

 

“You listen to me now, Rarity,” he said, a hollow fury to his voice. “You cooperate and we'll be done shortly. If you struggle and try to cast spells, then you will be even sorrier! You deserve this spanking and you'll take it like a proper young lady.”

 

It was absolutely incredible how he had gone from such a shy, nervous and insecure sounding gentlepony to this stern, deathly serious and menacing fatherly figure in such a short period of time. She wiped her eyes, willing herself to stay strong, and nodded. Fancy widened his legs and pulled her close. Rarity saw his erection had completely died. He dragged her in and onto his left thigh, twisting to the right as he did so. Rarity fell forward, her torso draping across the arm of the couch as he shuffled his seating toward it. He closed his thighs on her left leg, locking it in, and spread her wide. Every inch of her backside was exposed, right down the crack, her asshole and cunt on full display and dangerously in the line of fire. He seized her right leg with magic and pulled it out wide, keeping her open as though he had used a spreader bar.

 

Rarity whined pitifully, squeezing the armrest between her forehooves, bracing herself for the worst. She flinched and flexed her glutes when she felt the heavy brush’s back touch her already sore left cheek. Positioned as she was, there was no way to clench her cheeks in resistance. She screamed when the first THWAAACK crashed down upon her. The brushhead practically covered her left cheek from asshole to hip. As her leg muscles worked furiously against his magical grip, a horrible fire burned through her skin and left a throbbing agony behind on her behind.

“I'm glad you told me the specifics, Rarity,” Fancy said calmly, taking three long seconds before thwacking her hard against the right cheek. “I have the reasoning I need to tan your hide properly! If you were my daughter, I would have taken you over my knee the moment you started spending exuberantly! Because I would have raised you to be cautious with your fortune.”

 

As he spoke, he spaced out the whacks. Rarity's throat was sore from howling by the fourth smack. Her inner thighs and inner cheeks were unprotected from the edge of the brush. The third and fourth hits were to her sitspots, covering either one completely. By the sixth, she was no longer speaking, just screeching.

 

“As you are not my daughter, most regrettably, you wouldn't of had such lessons in your youth! But that is NO EXCUSE to be foolish! I would have expected you to be business savvy enough to have some backup funds! Instead of wasting your money on pointless trinkets, you could have prepared yourself a reasonable base to stand upon!”

 

All she could do was bawl. Her body writhed, her hooves banging against the armrest, her legs immobilized, her back hooves just off the floor so that she couldn't even stamp them. Each time he paused between thwacks, her butt twitched in agony, nerve endings on fire, skin bruised and throbbing. She couldn't even think anymore, though the spacing was allowing his words to register with her.

 

Whack after whack after whack after whack. Before long, all of the fight was out of her. Snot stretched stickily from her right hoof to the couch, her left hoof in her mouth as she tried to muster the willpower to resist the physical agony. The fabric of the armrest was soaked through from her tears, cascading down her face and dripping off her chin. The floor below was equally splattered with droplets of salty water.

She lost all concept of time once he had finally finished. He pulled her off the arm and gently cradled her in his surprisingly strong arms. Rarity hugged him tightly, sobbing into his clothing. He let her let it all out for several long minutes. It wasn't until everything was just a dull blur to her that she was able to calm down and think. The damp suit was soothing to the touch, warm from her burning face pressed against it.

 

“I told you this would be an important lesson and I meant it. You're a friend, Rarity, so you can always count on my help if you need it. And tonight, you needed more than help! You needed correction, too. I hope you'll find yourself thankful I have his fetish, but like I told you, this was not sexual for me.”

 

“I… I don't know what to think right now.” It was true. Rarity's mind was a mess, as indeed was her face and hair, she imagined. “I’m sorry. That much I know. What you must think of me…”

 

“I consider you an exceptional seamstress, a kind and honest soul, brimming with generosity… who needs to work on her timing. Tonight was not the night to act like a seductress. Had we been doing something else, I would have dishonoured my consort and fell for your teases. Though, I will admit, I was very turned on, but it was something I couldn't help.”

 

Rarity's stomach squirmed painfully. Really, horny or not, what the hell had she been thinking? She had gotten so carried away once she realized he had gotten hard. She would be emotionally destroyed if some scarlet mare tried to get between her and a stallion.

“I'm so stupid. Really, I'm sorry, Fancy… and thank you.”

 

He gently patted her back and she felt composed enough to push away. She hissed with pain as his thighs pressed into her rump. The throbbing had dulled to a bothersome ache. She carefully climbed off him and stood up, shaking the cobwebs out of her brain.

 

“I deserved that, I really did,” she admitted shamefacedly. “It was better you didn't just bail me out financially…” She gave a little chuckle. “I'm not likely to forget this.”

 

She cautiously caressed her backside, twisting to try and get a look. Fancy fixed his sleeves and got up, too. He retrieved his monocle and brushed it on his suit.

 

“I must thank you, too, for this experience. It was exhilarating!” He stepped forward and gave a swift hug. “I do hope you don't think me a creep for this. Now, I have aides I use to help me manage my savings,” he added, suddenly business like again. “I'll set you up with an appointment next weekend. Get some rest, darling, you look a right state! On the morrow, you can pay off your debts.”

 

Rarity rolled her eyes and laughed. “It's your fault I look like this! My makeup is all running…”

 

He chuckled and walked to the hallway. Rarity followed him to her front door and thanked him again. With a wave and wink, he departed for the quiet streets of Canterlot. Rarity closed the door and locked it, turning and pressing her bruised bottom to the cold surface. She looked down to find Opal staring at her.

 

“Oh, don't you judge us!”

 

She clicked her tongue and went back to her living room to straighten it up again. She picked up the saddlebags, weighing them in her hooves, reaching in and pulling out some coins, to let them spill back into the bag like a waterfall. In a way, it really was an easy transaction.

 

The End

 

-----Appendix:-----

 

As for why Fancy spanked her, maybe it's how I wrote it, idk, but it's definitely a fetish and he's totally gonna flog his log do it, I'd imagine, but the whuppin he delivered to Rarity was more punishment than anything once she revealed the situation. If it were all honest mistakes and Rara took legitimate steps to mitigate her situation here and there, he would've probably gone to a good sting and stayed there, exactly the discomfort Rara had initially expected. Or kept it sexy, told her off but stayed at the point where they were both horny? Lotsa ways to take it from there!