Wrong Kind of Marks by timewarp and numer987

(Applejack, Rarity, Rainbow Dash / Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, Scootaloo)

F/f, hairbrush, non-consensual, non thread

 

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The Cutie Mark Crusaders stood in an inverted pyramid, Scootaloo at the bottom, on her scooter, supporting Apple Bloom on her left and Sweetie Belle on her right. A bold look of determination flashed on the young fillies’ faces, except for the unicorn.

 

“I don’t feel safe, are you sure this is gonna work?”

 

“Relax, Sweetie Belle,” came Apple Bloom’s reply, “this is Scootaloo we’re talking about.”

 

“Yeah!” concurred the orange pegasus. “When have I ever steered you wrong?”

 

Sweetie Belle was about to launch into a lengthy list when Scootaloo launched the scooter. The Crusaders screamed, one with courage, one with excitement, and one with fear.

 

“CUTIE MARK CRUSADER FIGURE SCOOTERS!”

 

The wheeled trio rushed through town, turning heads as they passed, towards Sugarcube Corner. It was all set for a swift fly-by, a controlled stop, and a frantic check for cutie marks, if only Scootaloo had not seen an inclined plank of wood resting against a nearby stall. Her eyes narrowed and a wicked grin spread across her lips.

 

“Uh, Scoot... You’re going the wrong way. What are you...? NO! SCOOTALOO, TURN! TURN!”

 

But Apple Bloom’s objections fell on deaf ears. Scootaloo accelerated towards the makeshift ramp and took the three fillies high into the sky. Time slowed as her expression changed from triumph, to confusion, to panic. The Cutie Mark Crusaders crashed through the top window of Sugarcube Corner. Their momentum took them through Pinkie Pie’s bedroom, demolishing a small table as they went, down the stairs in a ball of destruction, and into a counter full of cupcakes. Their frosting-covered heads poked meekly out of the rubble, to find Mr and Mrs Cake standing over them, staring daggers into their eyes.

 

The latter was the first to explode.

 

“My cakes! My counter! My word, are you girls insane? Look at this mess!”

 

“We’re sorry…” began a dejected reply, before Mr Cake cut them off.

 

“Sorry isn’t going to clean this up! Sorry isn’t going to replace all that stock! Sorry is – ”

 

Just then, Pinkie burst through the door looking shocked.

 

“Oh my gosh, are you girls okay?! I was just sitting in my room singing to myself and then you came through the window and I was like –gasp– ‘Oh wow look at all the colours!’ and then I thought ‘Oh no, they might be hurt!’ and so I rushed down the stairs to find you and ask you if you were okay, so are you okay?!”

 

Several seconds of making sense of all that later, Apple Bloom piped up: “Uh, I think I’m fine.”

 

“Me too” was Scootaloo’s answer.

 

“Me three” chimed in Sweetie Belle.

 

“Well…” started Mrs Cake, “I guess that is the most important thing. As long as you girls promise to never do anything like this again– ”

 

“We promise!”

 

“You can go, then. Go clean yourselves up, we’ll sort this mess out.”

 

 

#####################################-Tomorrow-#####################################

 

Lunchtime at the school was an arduous affair for our titular heroines. Being ridiculed at every turn, sniggers breaking out left and right, not a single foal could look at them straight. It had begun in the first class, with Diamond Tiara breaking the news to everyone via note-passing. Before long, there were doodles in the corners of everypony’s textbooks detailing their failure in increasingly caricatured styles.

 

The Crusaders sat down quietly in the corner of the lunchroom, shying away from the scornful eyes of their classmates. All they wanted was to get the day over and done with. Apple Bloom chewed half-heartedly on a mouthful of hay and Golden Delicious, but all she could taste was shame and regret. Sweetie didn’t even have an appetite.

 

Scootaloo surveyed her companions’ depression and decided to be the first to hold her head up high. It was promptly hit by a pink cupcake.

 

“Remind you of much?!” came a snort from Snips. The cafeteria roared with laughter – none more so prevalent than Silver Spoon and Diamond Tiara’s – and Scootaloo’s face contorted in rage.

 

Holding an apple in each wing and a daisy sandwich in her right hoof, she climbed onto the table and located her suddenly-not-so-bold targets. She let out a snarl, declared war, and with all the strength she could muster, powered every piece of foodstuff into the shocked assembly. The sandwich connected satisfyingly with Snips’ chops, and one apple glanced off of Tiara’s rump. Silver Spoon, too, found her comeuppance as Apple Bloom, rallied by Scootaloo’s courageous endeavour, bucked a further two apples and a cake. Meanwhile Sweetie Belle, having the most remaining lunch of the three, used her (albeit weak) magic to float a bag of raisins and several bran muffins high into the air and rain them down upon her adversaries.

 

“STOP THIS NOW!”

 

Not a second had the command left Cheerilee’s muzzle than all fighting simultaneously ceased. The eyes of every foal turned first to their teacher, and then to the Crusaders, silently betraying them as culprits.

 

“You three, see me in the classroom. Now. The rest of you, I want this place spick-and-span by the time I return!”

 

 

##################################-In the Classroom-###################################

 

“I’m only going to ask you this once, so I want a straight answer: did you three start the food fight?”

 

Sweetie Belle raised a hoof in protest, but Apple Bloom stopped her with a shake of her head.

 

“Yes, Ma’am, we did,” she confessed “and we’re awful sorry.”

 

“Sorry” echoed the other two.

 

Cheerilee sighed. “I don’t think I need to express how thoroughly disappointed I am in you girls.”

 

The faces of the Crusaders sank, their eyes affixed to the floor for the upcoming lecture. She may not have needed to, but she was surely going to anyway.

 

“I shall be messaging your guardians immediately. Until they arrive, you three will wait in here. We do not tolerate such barbaric behaviour within the walls of this establishment.”

 

The three fillies’ heads shot up, confused and scared expressions etched upon their faces. Scootaloo was the first to speak.

 

“Wh...what do you mean, ‘until they arrive’? What’s happening to us?”

 

Cheerilee’s eyes closed sombrely. “We cannot allow you to detract from the experiences of your peers. Until such a time as you have, individually, resolved your issues and are ready to be educated in a socially acceptable manner, you three are hereby suspended.”

 

At the final word, the jaws of Apple Bloom and Scootaloo hit the floor. Sweetie Belle’s entire body went with hers in a faint worthy of her older sister.

 

 

###############################-Thirty-Five Minutes Later-################################

 

Escorted by Cheerilee, the Cutie Mark Crusaders shuffled sheepishly out of the front door of the school, to be met by Applejack, Rarity, and Rainbow Dash. The first two appeared disappointed, to say the least. Rainbow’s face looked more neutral, even indifferent, at least until nudged firmly by Rarity, upon which it took on a – clearly forced – stern expression. Scootaloo’s attempts to hide her ecstasy were almost transparent.

 

“RAINBOW DASH! YOU’RE HERE! I mean, uh… Rainbow Dash, why are you here?”

 

Cheerilee replied, “The mailmare informed me that your parents are out of town for a while, Scootaloo. Rainbow here has kindly volunteered to take you.”

 

“Take me? Where are we going?”

 

Rainbow chuckled. “Well, I was gonna say my place, in Cloudsdale, but-” she looked at Scootaloo’s right wing “-those wings aren’t gonna getcha anywhere. No offense.”

 

Rarity and Applejack looked at one another, before taking their friend to one side.

 

“This is not a joke, Rainbow. You do remember why we are here, do you not?”

 

The pegasus blinked. “Uhhh… ‘Course I do! We came to get the kids!”

 

“And do you remember why?”

 

“Ummmmm…”

 

Applejack shook her head. “S’all in the letter, RD. Just you remember to do it. But, uh… don’t overdo it. Ya know what I mean?”

 

Dead silence from the blue pony.

 

“Ya don’t know what I mean… Ah, you’ll figure it out. But we gotta part ways. Time’s a-wastin’. Let’s get movin’, Apple Bloom!”

 

“I agree. Come along, Sweetie Belle.”

 

The ponies departed, and Cheerilee returned to the school, leaving Rainbow Dash alone, with a bright orange fangirl beaming straight into her face.

 

 

##################################-Sweet Apple Acres-##################################

 

“Now, Apple Bloom, you’re gettin’ to be a big pony now. We – that is to say, Big Macintosh, Granny Smith, and I – expect more adult behaviour from you. And just ‘cos you ain’t got your cutie mark yet is no excuse to be actin’ like a little filly. And don’t think I can’t see you makin’ them faces at me, missy!”

 

Apple Bloom ceased her mocking and began to protest, “But it wasn’t even me what STARTED the fight, sis! Snips hit Scoot with a cupcake and then-”

 

“You wanna argue? Fine. You can stand there and argue all day until Big Macintosh gets in, and we’ll see what he has to say about this whole ordeal!”

 

She closed her mouth. Applejack continued, “Now I ain’t gonna ask you again, Apple Bloom: get over here and bend over the barrel.”

 

There was no way out, no quick and easy exit clause. And thinking up an elaborate one was too hard. Nah, she decided to just suck it up, accept her punishment and thank her lucky stars that Big Macintosh had to work a double shift.

 

When the filly was properly positioned, Applejack reeled off a list of rules, because her mouth would be preoccupied while she punished Apple Bloom.

 

“Okay, no kickin’, no cussin’, absolutely no gettin’ up until I say so, and I love you, little sis.”

 

Apple Bloom kept stoically quiet, knowing that her sister would not dare to start until she had said it back.

 

“Apple Bloom…? I said, ‘I love you’.”

 

Not a peep. Applejack rolled her eyes and sighed. She walked over to the front door, opened it, and yelled “BIG MACINTOSH!” A faint “eyyup” was sent back.

 

“I love you too!”

 

Applejack smiled. “NEVER MIND!”

 

She closed the door and walked back over to Apple Bloom, who was silently cursing herself for folding first. She picked up the tree branch she had left beside the barrel before departing to retrieve her sister, and held it high above her head.

 

THWAKK!

 

“KYAA! Tarnation, that hurts!”

 

Applejack spat out the branch. “Now what did I just get through tellin’ you about cussin’? You want me to whoop ya twice?!”

 

“I’m sorry! Won’t happen again! I promise!”

 

“You see that it doesn’t.” She bit the branch again and drove it into the filly’s flank with a mighty CRACK! Apple Bloom shrieked, but did not say a word. Two more licks and red welts began to appear. The branch itself was intricate, as branches go, with many little twigs and splits. This made for an effective switching implement, rather than a useable chopping log. “Waste not, want not” was the motto of the household.

 

FWIP! Applejack changed her tactic, using only the tips of the branch to strike a small portion of Apple Bloom’s backside with maximum force. The young pony arched her back, but kept her hind legs miraculously still. Applejack struck first her right, then her left flank in this manner, three times apiece.

 

Tears broke out of Apple Bloom’s eyes as a fiery soreness broke out from her rear end. Applejack delivered another four scorching strokes before her sister’s incessant wailing and deep red behind told her that she had learned well. Applejack dropped the branch, cradled Apple Bloom with both forelegs, and rocked her until she calmed, and then both sisters fell asleep on the barrel together.

 

 

##################################-Carousel Boutique-##################################

 

“A food fight, Sweetie Belle?! I always knew you were never as refined and sophisticated as moi, but to actually sink to such disgusting levels of “entertainment”, well… I barely feel proud to call you my sister!”

 

Sweetie Belle’s eyes completed a barrel roll that would put Star Fox to shame. “Oh, nooo, whatever would I do without you as a sister? My life would just be incomplete!”

 

Rarity scowled and a purple ribbon flew, magically assisted, from a drawer and wrapped itself briskly around the muzzle of the young unicorn, eliciting a squeal from its captive as the tip flicked itself across her rump.

 

“Sarcasm will not be received well with me, Sweetie. And if you’re squeaking now, I shall have to warn the neighbour’s dogs before we carry on.”

 

The realisation struck the filly as sharply as the ribbon, and she made pleading noises and puppy eyes at her older sister. Rarity shook her head and continued, “Begging won’t help you. I’m sorry, Sweetie Belle, but you’ve had this coming. Now, unless you would like me to enlist Fluttershy’s help in getting you to co-operate-” the young pony violently expressed her disapproval of this idea “-you had better assume the position – now!”

 

It wasn’t that Sweetie didn’t like Fluttershy, much the opposite: she loved her, and didn’t want her to see the filly being punished. She knew neither of them would find that idea appealing, and wanted to remain a ‘sweet little angel’ in the gentle pegasus’ eyes. So she walked sullenly over to the square velvet cushion in the centre of the room, and clambered over its soft fabric with what little grace she had.

 

Rarity, meanwhile, turned to a dresser drawer, and removed from it a sleek oval hairbrush, dark brown and glossy with clean, black bristles. It was roughly the same size and shape as the standard adult hoof (indeed this is the standard due to ease of design: the carpenter needs merely to trace a line in the wood around his own front hoof)– although Rarity’s hoof, being slightly more petite and delicate than the average mare, looked marginally dwarfed at its size.

 

In any case, it was not the size of the brush that was the important factor here – it was its intended purpose. Sweetie Belle rested, her rear end upturned and her tail shifted obediently to the side, upon the violet ottoman. Rarity stood to her side, levitating the hairbrush inches away from Sweetie’s flesh. She tapped her sister’s flank several times, mostly for dramatic effect (and if Sweetie Belle’s nervous sweating was anything to go by, it was working), before lifting it ceremoniously toward the ceiling and swishing it down with a SMACK!

 

Instantly the filly began to kick and scream; goodness knows where she gets the aptitude for drama. Two quick smacks to the other side brought squirming and early tears.

 

Now another pony might have seen this and eased off, or even stopped altogether. But Rarity, master as she was of the crocodile tear, only strengthened her spanking. Without missing a beat (no pun intended), she gathered more ribbons of many colours to bind her sister’s unruly hind legs, tying each leg in turn and delivering a flurry of slaps to the lower hindquarters when it was done.

 

Each wave of WHAPs renewed the fire in Sweetie’s behind, and she fell limp and began to cry for real. Rarity gave each of her sister’s sides three more stinging smacks, and finished with a forceful THWACK, in the dead centre.

 

The older unicorn stepped back to inspect the damage she’d caused her sibling; she gasped at the dark colour of her normally pale behind. Using a foreleg to offer her some comfort and sympathy, she stealthily floated over some makeup and did her best to hide the worst of it. She worried that the ticklish sensation of the foundation brush on Sweetie Belle’s sensitive skin would alert her, but when she looked back at her younger sister’s face, she had already fallen asleep.

 

 

###############################Twilight Sparkle’s Treebrary###############################

 

“Thanks for lending us the balloon, Twilight!”

 

The purple unicorn smiled at Rainbow as she, with Scootaloo, began to ascend towards Cloudsdale.

 

“No problem! It’s not like I was using it, anyway. Take care, you two!”

 

She waved to her friend, and her friend waved back, until the clouds obscured their mutual vision. Rainbow Dash sighed, and turned to her orange tag-along. She was met with a beam and saucer-sized eyes.

 

“We’ll be there soon, squirt. So, uh, tell me about this whole food fight thing. It sounded…”

 

She trailed off. She had wanted to use a word like “awesome”, “extreme”, or “bodacious”, but felt that it wouldn’t be appropriate.

 

“…bad.”

 

Scootaloo looked up at the balloon nonchalantly, pretending like she wasn’t on top of the world. “Oh, well, we got into a little mess yesterday with the Cakes; misjudged trajectories and the like, and the other colts and fillies at school thought it was funny, but to cut a long story short, it was TOTALLY not our fault.”

 

The balloon poked its way through the clouds and Rainbow Dash set it down upon the hearth to her home: a brilliant white palace fit for an empress, with majestic pillars and rainbow rivers aplenty. Scootaloo hopped out of the basket – even though she couldn’t fly, her pegasus status still permitted her to walk upon clouds – and beheld the glory that was her idol’s residence. She was about to run inside with glee to bask in the glow of Equestria’s greatest flyer’s wall of awards, when Rainbow called out to her.

 

“Scootaloo… c’mon. Tell me the truth.”

 

The young one turned, a puzzled look on her face, to find Rainbow’s set with a stern expression. She had called her “Scootaloo”, not “squirt”.

 

“Wh…why do you think I’m lying?”

 

Rainbow Dash raised an eyebrow. “If it was somepony else’s fault, you and I wouldn’t be here right now. Tell me what happened. Please?”

 

Scootaloo shifted uneasily on her hooves and stared at the floor. “Um, everypony at school was making fun of us – mostly me – for having crashed yesterday. And then at lunch, I got hit by a cupcake that I’m pretty sure Snips threw, and so-”

 

“You’re PRETTY sure? But you don’t know?”

 

This interruption felt like Scootaloo was being interrogated. “Well…I…no, I guess I didn’t actually… see him.”

 

Rainbow folded her forelegs. “And so?”

 

“And so, I threw some of my food back at him.”

 

“Is that all you did?”

 

Scootaloo began to tremble in fear – could Rainbow Dash read her mind?

 

“N-no. I also declared… w-war. And hit some other fillies t-too.”

 

“So one anonymous pony hits you with a cupcake: does that mean that all the other fillies, innocently eating away, deserve to get pelted with food?”

 

Scootaloo said nothing. When Rainbow Dash put it that way, Scootaloo sounded pretty bad.

 

“Well, I think that’s pretty darn lame, Scootaloo.”

 

At this point, Scootaloo lost her staring contest with the ground. She screwed her eyes shut as they began to leak – her heroine, the pony she looked up to most in all of Equestria, had just called her lame. She sobbed and pleaded with the blue pegasus.

 

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I’m the w-worst pony in the world! Please, I’ll do anything, just d-don’t kick me out of your f-fan club! I’m sorry!”

 

Rainbow Dash was taken aback by this reaction, and a little confused – but no less flattered – as to the meaning of “fan club”. She remembered Applejack’s instruction not to “overdo it”, and placed a foreleg around her fan.

 

“Hey, hey! Don’t cry! You’re not the worst pony in the world, don’t be ridiculous! You just need a little correction. And… I don’t think I can kick you out… I’d have to talk to the leader. But I won’t! Promise!”

 

Rainbow’s reassurance calmed the hysterical Scootaloo, who inwardly thanked her lucky stars that she had been the sole initiator of the club.

 

“Here, come inside. I’ll get us some hay fries, you must be hungry.”

 

 

#############################Rainbow Dash’s House, Interior##############################

 

The two ponies sat on a green couch, munching fries and idly chatting. To Scootaloo’s dismay, Rainbow had no wall of awards in whose glow she could bask. However, there was a shelf with a couple of golden trophies, and a few lightning bolt ribbons. She perked up when she saw the fridge – tan, with multicoloured magnets holding up a notice, a shopping list, and an anonymous drawing she recognised as her own.

 

When she had finished her fries, Rainbow Dash turned to Scootaloo and said, “Well, anyway, back to the matter at hand…”

 

Scootaloo swallowed her last mouthful and replied, “Yeah, um, what did you mean when you said ‘correction’?”

 

Rainbow put a hoof behind her head and rubbed it. “Uhh, well…how do I put this… they asked me to, um…”

 

The younger pegasus stared into her eyes. “Just say it, I won’t mind. What do you want me to do? Clean your trophies?” A small hint of hope was detectable in the last word.

 

“It’s not that. They uh, they asked me to punish you…um, physically…”

 

Scootaloo’s eyes widened. “Oh… OH! Oh, um, I don’t know about that… I mean, you’re like… you know?” She shrugged and looked away.

 

Rainbow Dash nodded. “Yeah, I know. We should probably just wait for your parents to get back.”

 

At this, Scootaloo panicked and gasped. “NO! No, they CAN’T know about this! They’ll… they’ll kill me! They’ll make me stop the club! They’ll sell my scooter!! Please, you can’t tell them!”

 

“I’m sorry, I just don’t see any other way! I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

 

Scootaloo frantically shook her head. “You don’t know my parents! They are all about my school grades. If they know I was sent home, especially when they were away, I just KNOW they’ll kill me!”

 

Rainbow smiled nervously and copied Scootaloo’s shrug. “Well, I’ve given you another option. The choice is yours.”

 

Scootaloo hesitated and weighed up the decision: to be banned forever from worshipping Rainbow Dash, or to be spanked by Rainbow Dash? To be in close proximity to her idol, to have her idol deliver her judgment upon her, to be touched by Rainbow Dash… this was an easy choice, upon reflection.

 

“Y…you do it.”

 

She was no stranger to corporal punishment. She stood up from the couch, faced away from Rainbow, lowered the front half of her body and shifted her tail.

 

By contrast, Rainbow Dash was indeed a stranger. Her charge’s compliance bemused her, and, not wanting to drag this out, she decided to use the closest implement she had.

 

She used her wing.

 

Scootaloo gasped and blushed as the feathery appendage made sharp contact with her hindquarters. She had expected a moment’s respite while Rainbow would search for a spatula or a spoon, and was thus surprised at the immediacy of the spanking. Rainbow was strong, no doubt, but her wing just wasn’t very effective. It was not dissimilar to being rapidly brushed with a duster. In fact, in some ways, it actually brought Scootaloo a little, dare she say, pleasure. A very mild sting coupled with a lot of tickle, and a couple of wayward feathers reaching unknown places. It felt wrong, but Scootaloo did nothing to oppose it.

 

After a minute, Rainbow Dash realised how ineffective the feathers of her wing truly were, and decided instead to use the central vane, albeit more softly. She did not communicate this change to Scootaloo verbally, however, and so with the first strike, the orange pony shrieked with shock.

 

“Was that… too hard?”

 

Scootaloo took a moment to regain her cognition enough to reply “No, it just… caught me off guard. You can keep going.”

 

Keep going she did. For a further four minutes, the room was filled with thwacking sounds and little squeaks, as Dash did her best to properly punish the young filly. Again, Applejack’s words rang true: “do it, but don’t overdo it”.

 

Rainbow paused, and took note of a small pool of liquid below Scootaloo’s face. She had been crying, but silently, trying to remain strong in the eyes of her spanker. Rainbow Dash smiled, and gave her a more forceful smack on the lower part of her backside. This, along with the few more than followed, elicited little cries from the orange pony, and Rainbow delivered a final blow with gusto, rounding off Scootaloo’s punishment and also causing her to collapse and cry for real.

 

Rainbow Dash was unaware of how to comfort a pony in this condition, so she covered her with a blanket and stroked her crimson behind with her feathers again. Seeing her wriggle told her that that was probably not the way, but Scootaloo wished she’d continued.

 

 

#################################### The Next Week####################################

 

Back at school, the Cutie Mark Crusaders delivered a sincere apology to their ex-combatants, and received a good many back from the majority of them: they felt that their teasing had gotten a little out of hoof. To the absolute delight of the trio, they learned that Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon had suffered the same fate. After the Crusaders had left school that day, an anonymous note was found on Cheerilee’s desk giving evidence for their involvement in the precursor to the food fight, and the two were sent home shortly thereafter.

 

Life for our heroines returned swiftly to normal, and within days they were off again on another death-defying escapade in search of their elusive Marks.

 

 

THE END