Criminal Code 1: N4P-T1M3 by Nomine


                                            Criminal Code 1: N4P-T1M3 by Nomine

                                            (Dad / Colt)


                                            (31/12/2017)


                                            https://desuarchive.org/mlp/thread/31472117/#q31643473


                                            ---


                                            A short while ago, and not a long time at all, in a town not far from Canterlot, certainly not far away, there lived a small family of ponies. The papa was a guard in the small town, the mama stayed at home, and their three year old son spent his days playing with toys, eating both sweets and (blech) healthy veggies, and being snuggled by two loving parents.


                                            It was a happy life, but there were occasional problems...such as…


                                            “NO! NONONO!!! I WON’T NO!” came a scream from the small house one weekend, as the foal stamped his little hoof, glaring up at his Mama from the presumed safety of his little fort of blocks and toy soldiers. “I DON’T WANNA!!!”


                                            “Sweetie, please...you need to take your nap.” mama cajoled and explained, keeping her voice calm while papa sat aside, reading the newspaper. “You’re all cranky and…”


                                            “NO! I NOT CRANKIES!!! I WANNA PLAY! NO NAPS! NO NAP!!!” the cranky colt cut in crankily, stamping his little hooves as his mama started to frown. It was always like this at naptime, and had been for a week.


                                            This time, however, there was a slight difference in the situation. Usually, mama was alone with her little “angel”, and so had to resort to a combination of pleading and promising to put an end to his naptime tantrums.


                                            Today, however, Papa was there. And papa had finally had enough of the tantrum. Folding his paper and putting it aside, the stallion stood up to his full height, marching over with the disciplined gait of a guard.


                                            The tantrum stopped very quickly then as the little colt found himself scooped up in his papa’s hooves, carried over to a chair and laid across his papa’s lap as the stallion sat back down.


                                            Realizing the danger he was in, the toddler started squirming, but to no avail. Papa was just too strong.


                                            As the first stinging smack landed on his upturned bottom, the colt heard his father begin lecturing. “When your mother tells you to go take a nap, young colt, you listen to her.” he scolded as his son yelped and began to cry.


                                            Another spank fell, papa being very careful to moderate his strength as he punished his naughty son. “Little colts most certainly do not yell at their mommies, or stamp their hooves at her just because she told them to take a nap.” the lecture continued as the little one cried more, sure his bottom was bright red!


                                            The final swat landed, and the colt yelped one last time. His bottom hurt so much...surely it was going to sting for years and years until he was as big as papa!


                                            “Now...go and hug your Mommy, and then go lay down and take your nap.” Papa ordered, and the little colt rushed to obey, giving his Mama’s leg a big hug before running up the stairs to his room.


                                            Once he was gone, Mama fixed her stallion with a glare. “Was that really necessary? To spank him over refusing to take a nap?” she snipped, coming over to sit next to her husband.


                                            “Yes. You already told me he’s been throwing these tantrums all week, best to nip it in the bud. Besides, it was my duty as a guard to spank him there.”


                                            That last part confused the Mama very much. “How was it your duty as a guard?” she asked, and Papa smiled.


                                            “It is my duty to respond to any crimes being committed…”


                                            “And he was resisting a rest.”