Preschool Punishment by RoyalBard


                                            Preschool Punishment by RoyalBard

                                            ( / )


                                            (15/12/2019)


                                            https://desuarchive.org/mlp/thread/34681944/#q34741990


                                            ---


                                            Fluttershy thought about her preschool teacher a lot.


                                            Generally, when she had one hoof between her legs,


                                            What she thought of was the strong, muscular silver stallion and the times he'd disciplined her for some naughtiness.


                                            It'd been scary, her first time getting in trouble. She had thrown toys at another foal in a fit. He had taken her by the ear, led her to the spanking bench while she'd whined and cried. While bending her over the padded surface, he'd stopped and patted her back.


                                            Told her it was for her own good. Her belly rested on the bench, her rump out for the paddle. They were pre-preschoolers so it was a velvet-lined paddle, only the lightest sting-more sting than a mere hoof spanking though.


                                            She'd cried when the paddle had clapped her rear (though she doubted as an adult that it stung too much.) Ten solid spanks had painted her rump yellow.


                                            She'd cried and he'd held her close while she buried her face in his chest, her bum sore and she herself feeling ashamed over her loss of temper. He'd hugged her in those big, strong forelegs and Fluttershy had felt...safe.


                                            Another time had been a lesser offense. Still for her temper. (When she'd had her episode at the Gala and with Iron Will, she'd wondered what Mr. Stern Hoof would have done-spanked her silly no doubt.)


                                            (She missed him sometimes.)


                                            She knew it was a bad word she'd said to the other filly who was hogging the toy she wanted. She knew the penalty for knowingly saying a bad word.


                                            How she'd cried and whimpered when Mr. Stern Hoof had called her over, yet she still ended up across his knees. He'd lifted his hoof and landed a sharp spank upon her bottom. She had squirmed and kicked her legs, but more spanks fell down, a rain of sharp slaps right on her delicate derriere, turning it pink.


                                            (Ten spanks maximum, but in fantasy it was longer.)


                                            Then, the spanking stopped and he'd lifted her into one of those incredibly warm, loving cuddles. Even preened her wings while she melted in that embrace.

                                            Her behavior in pre-school had been appalling. Throwing toys, bad words, tantrums...not one week went by without a trip across the teacher's knee or bent over the spanking bench.


                                            According to behavior reports, her behavior had begun to improve.The threat of a sore rump, no doubt.


                                            Or because she'd discovered she didn't need the spanking as an excuse to cuddle him. He offered cuddles and preenings when asked.


                                            That first time had been when she'd tried to preen herself. Seeing her struggle, he'd taken her in his lap, ran a muzzle through her wings while she relaxed.


                                            She'd cuddled him after and he cuddled her back. Every day she went and got her daily snuggle from him.


                                            Normally at naptime. She had bad dreams so she spent nap time cuddled to his side, his wing spread over her and a few other "fraidy foals."


                                            (My how she was jealous of them!)


                                            (And how safe she felt beneath that wing, pressed up to his side.)


                                            He genuinely loved foals. His cutie mark was a hairbrush with a heart on it. According to a book on the subject, that meant "loving authority-usually associated with caring for foals."


                                            She put her hoof between her legs on the bed, thought about being across his knees.


                                            "Fluttershy!" That scolding, but disappointed voice. "You know better than to throw food!"


                                            While she squirmed over his knees, his strong hoof smacked her bottom. Then that wonderful hug in that wonderful, safe embrace.


                                            The world made sense. Do something bad, get your butt spanked. And there were loving adults to protect her from all those scary things (even that anger in herself she hated and didn't understand.)


                                            So safe and loved, in his lap or over his knees...


                                            She came on the bed, slightly hated herself for defiling that precious memory, but the warm afterglow made her feel so good.


                                            Maybe she'd look up Mr. Stern Hoof. How old was he now she wondered.