Punishing My Pink Puffball by PPPF


                                            Punishing My Pink Puffball by PPPF

                                            ( / )


                                            ---


                                            >Two months in, and you’d seen so much progress already.

                                            >it wasn’t uncommon for successful weight loss journeys to begin with a rapid shedding of pounds

                                            >and sure enough, as soon as you’d put the little pink puffball on her new diet, she had dropped from obese to simply a bit overweight within such a short period of time


                                            >It hadn’t been easy for her to adjust to it, especially not at first.

                                            >For the first week, you had to put your foot down at her pouting, shake your head at her pleading eyes, and insist on giving her more healthy food options instead.

                                            >lots of veggies, whole grains, and eggs

                                            >and a whole lot LESS of the baked good sugar bombs that she’d been used to eating since you’d gotten her over a year ago

                                            >True, Pinkie Pie was a great baker, but sometimes it was to the point she’d been having a whole pan of brownies per day

                                            >homemade, of course!


                                            >you’d put up with it, found it endearing even.

                                            >you didn’t mind her size being somewhat pudgy, really, even as she’d gained some weight with you

                                            >you would have been fine with her right where she was at…


                                            >that is, until, your last trip to the doctor

                                            >And your worst fears has been realized.


                                            >Pinkie Pie was prediabetic.

                                            >Only an immediate change in lifestyle and a new, low-sugar diet was going to be the solution.

                                            >And so, you’d done exactly that, starting your little pink pony on the road to recovery

                                            >And it had been working so well…


                                            >until the past week, that is. You had weighed her at the end of the week, just like you normally do

                                            >and it had shown a five pound INCREASE in weight

                                            >but you wouldn’t have been alarmed, had it not been for… THAT look

                                            >that look on her face, the little shrinking of her pupils, and the way that her back hooves crossed nervously when the number popped up on the scale

                                            >that look was the one she always made when you caught her in the middle of doing something naughty

                                            >you knew it well…


                                            >You asked her about it, and the only thing she had to say was a stammering reply

                                            >followed by some kind of canned excuse…


                                            >it didn’t sit right with you then, and after a day of thinking about it, it still didn’t sit right with you now

                                            >she had been more active lately, true, but you doubted she would have gained two pounds of muscle in just one week

                                            >come to think of it, that just didn’t seem possible

                                            >you’d been making sure her calories were at a deficit each day, and there was mathematically no way that she could have gained so much weight if she was sticking to your plan

                                            >so, you’d went looking around the house…


                                            >and when you had looked under her bed, you found it.

                                            >discarded candy wrappers, forming a little mountain under the bed

                                            >dozens of them

                                            >and next to that, there was a half-empty bag of assorted candy bars

                                            >the sight made you stomach sink.


                                            >you hate to say it, but you knew it.

                                            >clearly, she had gotten the candy from somewhere else, too

                                            >spent her allowance money online somehow, and gotten the package without your knowledge


                                            >this was bad, and you had to do something

                                            >and while she didn’t need it very often, this time... she’d done something very, very bad

                                            >something dangerous to her health

                                            >and something behind your back, without your permission


                                            >you’d taken all of the candy wrappers and the big candy bag out from under her bed, and put them on top of the mattress as a showcase of the evidence

                                            >and now, all that was left was to call her name and tell her to come here


                                            >this confrontation was going to be hard by itself

                                            >but the harder thing was the fact that, you knew deep down, that something like this was not something you could just shrug off


                                            >This time, there had to be consequences


                                            >Pinkie was downstairs right now, you knew

                                            >Watching her favorite baking show on the food channel, or whatever it was called

                                            >you suppose that should have been a warning sign...

                                            >with the candy now on the bed in plain view for anyone to see, it was only a matter of time before she came upstairs and found out what you knew

                                            >but you weren’t going to wait for that.

                                            >You were going to go down there and tell her to come up here yourself, right now.


                                            >the thought of what you were gong to do next made you sigh in disappointment

                                            >but you knew this time, it was for the best.

                                            >She’d gone behind your back, and done something that was fundamentally unsafe for her to do

                                            >starting to sabotage all of her hard work over the past couple of months and pushing herself further to the edge of such a horrible disease like Type 2 diabetes.


                                            >What you had to do tonight was a little drastic

                                            >but you knew it had to be done for her sake.

                                            >you’d never done it before, and the thought of doing it tonight weighed heavy on you

                                            >especially since your little Pinkie Pie was such an overall wonderful pony

                                            >so kind, so enthusiastic, and so energetic

                                            >but this was for the best.

                                            >She was going to think about tonight for a long time, and hopefully every time she thought of disobeying her diet…


                                            >You leave her room, and make way to your closet

                                            >you aren’t wearing one right now, but you have a few belts hanging in your closet

                                            >you eye the thickest and heaviest one, and take it down from the rack

                                            >this one should do the trick…


                                            >you give some thought to how you were going to do this, the belt trembling a little bit in your hand, as you walk back to her room

                                            >you lay it down next to the bed, keeping it out of view enough that she won’t see it right when she walks in

                                            >and after a moment of thought you also decide to take her pillows and stack them at the foot of the bed

                                            >for this, you didn’t want to hit any of the wrong areas, and you wanted your target to be as conspicuous as possible

                                            >these pillows would help greatly with that, that was for sure


                                            >you take a step back, and swallow loudly

                                            >all ready.

                                            >this wasn’t going to be pleasant for anybody, but it had to be done

                                            >this was serious…


                                            >When you go downstairs, you can hear the audio of the baking show before you even enter the room

                                            >You round the corner, to see Pinkie sitting there with her eyes intently watching the TV

                                            >she takes a moment, but when you walk further in, Pinkie notices you there and whips her head around

                                            >there’s a little, sweet smile on her face, and her eyes brighten up

                                            >She points a hoof at the screen, to where a couple of people are standing on opposite sides of a table

                                            >and in between them, there is a big, three layer cake with chocolate frosting and a spectacular pattern made out of sprinkles and what appears to be fondant decorating the whole thing

                                            >She grins widely


                                            >”Hey, Anon! Look at THAT cake! She only had three hours to make it, but it turned out beautifully!” she says with bubbly, contagious enthusiasm.

                                            >”Are you busy? You could watch the rest with me! The competition is really heating up and the next episode is the semifinal!”


                                            >Oh boy.

                                            >That look, that smile…

                                            >You didn’t want to, but you were about to ruin it.

                                            >She had no idea that she was about to be looking very, very different in a few minutes…


                                            >You sigh deeply, and regard the oblivious pink pony with a side-eyed glare

                                            >She stays smiling for a moment, but when your look doesn’t let up, her smile fades

                                            >now, her expression is one of nervous uncertainty


                                            >You reach over to the remote, and without a word, you turn off the TV.

                                            >Pinkie is quick to protest, her mouth opening up, but you immediately cut her off with a raised finger

                                            >Her eyebrows shoot up with surprise. You decide to cut to the chase right away.

                                            >your voice is calm, but very firm


                                            “Pinkie. I found the candy under your bed.”


                                            >Safe to say, you have never seen the look on her face shift so quickly

                                            >it takes a moment, but with the shocking reveal, her eyes go from surprised to fearful in a single moment

                                            >her ears go from perked up, to pinned behind her head, and she flinches as if you’d just struck her on the cheek

                                            >boy, seeing her look like that actually makes you feel a little sorry for her


                                            >Especially because of what you’re about to do to her.


                                            >You wait for a second to see how she is going to respond to this revelation.

                                            >her lips purse together and she lowers her gaze in shame

                                            >you cross your arms over your chest


                                            “Well, Pinkie. Do you have anything to say for yourself?”


                                            >Pinkie doesn’t respond immediately.

                                            >She sniffles and her lip quivers

                                            >she knows the gig is up

                                            >You wait patiently until she at last says something, in a little squeak

                                            >”I-I... I’m sorry, Anon.”


                                            >you shake your head

                                            >Pinkie just slumps in her seat, dejected and ashamed of herself

                                            >you don’t raise your voice, but you don’t need to


                                            “Pinkie Pie. I am so, soooo disappointed in you. You were making such good progress, doing all the right things, and then you… how did you even get the candy?”


                                            >You have an idea of what her answer is going to be, but you try not to assume anything

                                            >Still holding onto hope that it was just laying around from last Halloween or something, but…


                                            >Pinkie sniffles and wipes her eyes

                                            >”I, uhh… I got it delivered, off Amazon…”


                                            “And you used my credit card? Without my permission? Pinkie…”


                                            >Oh boy, does she wilt under your admonishment

                                            >She makes herself small, lowering her snout to her forelegs submissively

                                            >But she doesn’t deny it. She’s not gonna lie to you now.

                                            >in fact, she even nods her head in affirmation

                                            >You sigh


                                            >This was a combination of lying and stealing that you simply were not going to tolerate.

                                            >Pinkie Pie closes her eyes, and exhales deeply


                                            >”I-I’m sorry. I lied, I stole… and I deserve w-whatever punishment you think.”


                                            >Pinkie cringes tearfully the moment those words leave her mouth.

                                            >And you know it’s because she knows what this means


                                            >Truth be told, you’d threatened her a couple of times before

                                            >Particularly when her carelessness either made a big mess of things or got on your last nerve…

                                            >It was true that you did still love that about her, her perky energy and optimism

                                            >it was something you grew to appreciate and love about her

                                            >but sometimes, it took a bit of a threat to get her to, well, “come back to Earth”

                                            >And once you did, her behavior pretty much corrected itself immediately

                                            >and, you have to admit, to your mild amusement


                                            >You know she’s an adult, but in many ways she acts a lot like a child

                                            >that’s just the way ponies are, you suppose

                                            >so it only seemed fitting to threaten her with a spanking when she was acting up

                                            >and even though she’s an adult pony, the threat of one never failed to get her attention


                                            >but you’d never needed to follow through…

                                            >until tonight.


                                            >you give it a moment’s thought, with the little pink pony curled up on the sofa in front of you

                                            >her eyes glistening with tears

                                            >and you think about the next step.


                                            >Pinkie was clearly remorseful

                                            >she was resigned to whatever you had in store for her

                                            >and she had owned up to her mistakes just now in front of you.

                                            >Surely she was deserving of some leniency?


                                            >But the more you considered her actions, the more you feel the firm sense of resolve you had before.

                                            >Pinkie was prediabetic, and only a serious change in diet and fitness was going to ensure that it didn’t progress.

                                            >she had stolen your money to get candy

                                            >and done something dangerous to her own health.


                                            >As such, you figure with grave resolve, the punishment needs to be a bit harsh.

                                            >After all, she’s earned it.


                                            >So, with the die cast and Pinkie’s fate sealed in your mind, you lift a finger and make a “come here” motion


                                            Alright, Pinkie. Follow me. We’re gonna… we’re gonna do this in your room.”


                                            >Pinkie knows what you mean.

                                            >She bites her quivering lip, and her pupils grow ever wider

                                            >but she’s not going to fight your command now.

                                            >Pinkie nods her head, wipes her eyes, and slinks down off the couch


                                            >”Y-Yes, Anon… I’m sorry…”


                                            “I know. Follow me, Pinkie.”


                                            >”Yes, Anon…”


                                            >She indeed follows you upstairs, but she’s silent as the grave

                                            >her poofy mane is a little flat and droopy, now, too

                                            >she knows what’s coming…


                                            >When you get to her room, Pinkie’s eyes fixate on the stack of pillows on the end of the bed

                                            >Her pink face turns pale, and she gulps

                                            >but she averts her eyes from you, perhaps out of nervousness and fear, but also perhaps out of shame, too

                                            >It’s downright sad to watch, but you dig deep and once again find your resolve!


                                            >This had to happen, you tell yourself

                                            >She deserved this...


                                            >Well, no point in delaying this further.

                                            >You point at the stack of pillows, and keeping your voice level and steady despite your own feelings of nervousness creeping up, you start to get her into proper position...

                                            >”Okay, Pinkie… come on, climb on up. There, that’s it… now just lay down over these pillows...scooch forward a little…”


                                            >It takes a bit, but despite her shaking legs, Pinkie lays down over the pillows and with your hands guiding her, she shimmes her hips until they are lying directly on top of them

                                            >Sniffling all the while, shaking with fear

                                            >she must be trying not to bolt out the door, you note with a grimace

                                            >even so, she obeys

                                            >every muscle is tense in her body, but after a moment, she lets her upper body go limp with a soft thud onto the bed


                                            >The position leaves her rear end higher up than the rest of her body

                                            >propped up by the pillows, her butt is now pointed toward the ceiling

                                            >her back legs dangle over the edge of the bed, and her forelegs stretch out in front of her

                                            >a little whimper escapes her at her newfound position


                                            >You purse your lips at the prone pony in her new, compromising pose

                                            >Pinkie Pie’s back legs give tiny little nervous kicks, and her tail swishes fearfully

                                            >you give a curt not of your head


                                            >It’ll do.

                                            >You eye the belt lying on the floor, which up to this point had been out of view

                                            >Pinkie’s eyes are nearly shut when you pick it up, but upon hearing the unmistakable “cling cling” of the metal belt buckle, her eyes fly open and her ears perk up

                                            >she whips her head around to look at you from over her shoulder, and immediately when she sees what’s in your hand, she gasps

                                            >Pinkie’s swishing tail suddenly clamps down over her bum, and she begins to stammer


                                            >”A-A b-belt? Oh, oh no, Anon, please no! Please j-just, uhh… use your hand! I promise it’ll hurt enough!”

                                            >Pinkie gazes at you in terror, and her pleas make your heart ache

                                            >and for a moment, you actually consider her begged request…


                                            >No.

                                            >You could use your hand, but… it wasn’t enough.

                                            >not for what she did.

                                            >You close your eyes, exhale, and shake your head

                                            >when you open your eyes, you fix Pinkie with a soft but firm stare

                                            >and more tears spill out of her eyes


                                            “No, Pinkie. What you did was very serious. Sorry, sweetie, but… you’ve earned the belt.”


                                            >No words come out of Pinkie’s mouth, but her lips move silently with more unwhispered pleas

                                            >It’s a sad sight, but you have a job to do now.

                                            >Frowning, you point at her tail with one finger


                                            “Now Pinkie… move your tail.”


                                            >Pinkie’s shivering, and still eyeing the belt in your hand

                                            >and it takes a moment for her to respond

                                            >but at last, closing her eyes in defeat, Pinkie whines, slumps back down onto the bed, and she sighs in defeat.

                                            >”B-But… I… Y-Yes, Anon…”


                                            >Her tail dock twitches, and her tail flips up and off to the side

                                            >exposing her bottom cheeks for what you’re about to do to them

                                            >along with… well, everything else down there, too

                                            >But it’s nothing you haven’t seen before, either

                                            >Ponies didn’t normally wear clothes anyway, after all...


                                            >You fold the belt in half, grip the buckle side tightly in your fist, and with a deep exhale, you lie the thick leather down across her clenching buttocks

                                            >The feeling of the strap against her rear made Pinkie whimper, and her back legs give an anxious little kick

                                            >she bunches up her forelegs under her chin, and as much as she can, curls up into herself

                                            >You breathe in, and focus intensely on the line you’ve drawn across her buns to aim, and raise the belt over your shoulder…


                                            >but just as soon as you do this, it’s like it flips a switch in Pinkie’s brain

                                            >and, in a panic, Pinkie squeaks and her tail swishes back down to protect her bottom

                                            >you catch yourself just before you were about to swing the belt down for the first spank

                                            >uh oh…


                                            >”Anon, n-no, please not the belt! I’m s-sorry!”


                                            “Pinkie Pie, move your tail, missy. I’m not gonna change my mind on this, okay? We’re gonna do this one way or another today…”


                                            >Despite you trying to stay calm, Pinkie, to your absolute shock, doubles down

                                            >Only now, instead of only her tail, Pinkie rolls to her side and reaches back with her hoof now, too!

                                            >You watch as she dislodges herself from the proper position you had her in, and she shakes her head vigorously


                                            >”N-No, i-it’s not f-fair! S’too hard…it was just candy, please...”


                                            >Oh no.

                                            >That tone of voice just changed from simply fearful, to…


                                            >Pinkie’s eyebrows furrow on her forehead, and suddenly, the look she’s giving you…

                                            >Oh no. Not acceptable.

                                            >you had to do something about this, right now...


                                            >You raise your voice, and this time, it’s enough to make her squeak with surprise


                                            “Pinkie Pie, that is ENOUGH. I’m gonna give you to the count of three, and if you aren’t back in position with your tail out of the way by the time I get there, I’ll... “


                                            >You scramble quickly to think of something

                                            >but all you manage to blurt out, with a shaky voice, is…


                                            “...I’m gonna give you an extra punishment for the whole rest of the week!”


                                            >well, that was shit.

                                            >you have to admit… it didn’t sound nearly as convincing as you had wanted it to be

                                            >and you have no time to think about just what exactly this new punishment is going to be…

                                            >but no matter.


                                            >Pinkie, once again to your shock, does not comply

                                            >Although now, her eyes are widened fearfully once more

                                            >But somehow, despite all of her past times where she has normally been so obedient…

                                            >you start to count


                                            “One… Pinkie…”


                                            >Oh my goodness.

                                            >Still nothing.

                                            >Your eyes meet hers, and the look she gives you…


                                            >Holy shit, you’ve never seen anything like it from her

                                            >It’s as if she had morphed from contrite, ready to accept her punishment, to…

                                            >to…

                                            >Defiance


                                            “Two…”


                                            >For a brief moment, it looks like Pinkie gives a start

                                            >She holds her breath, her tail twitches, and it almost, ALMOST, looks as if she is about to comply…

                                            >But then, just as you were holding onto hope

                                            >She doesn’t move.


                                            “...Three.”


                                            >For a moment, you just stand there

                                            >in stunned silence

                                            >Pinkie Pie looks back at you, hoof and tail over her rear

                                            >The same look on her face…


                                            >at first, you are just shocked

                                            >but very quickly, those feelings morph into something else...

                                            >You’re upset.

                                            >This had been a bluff, but it was one you thought was going to work

                                            >but now, here your pony was, defying your orders

                                            >and you were suddenly left with a decision to make


                                            >You open your mouth to speak… no, to yell

                                            >to order her to obey and take her punishment like a good girl

                                            >but then, just at the last moment, one of the things she had said comes back to your memory


                                            >”It was just candy…”


                                            >You pause.

                                            >That statement sticks out in your mind, and you replay it a few times to yourself

                                            >Just candy?


                                            >When you look back at Pinkie again, her defiant gaze has managed to soften

                                            >but the seeming lack of concern…

                                            >then it hits you.


                                            >She truly doesn’t seem to understand what’s at stake, here.

                                            >While it was true that she understood that she had done something wrong

                                            >the gravity of her prediabetes was, apparently, lost on her

                                            >you thought you had explained it to her before, but the more you think about it…

                                            >the more you realize that, truly, Pinkie does not understand.


                                            >just as soon as it had flared up, your anger begins to recede

                                            >and a plan of action takes form in your mind


                                            >After a seconds long pause, you sigh, and pull out your phone

                                            >Pinkie’s ears perk up, and you see the look in her eyes very quickly go from indignance to confusion

                                            >that’s when you make a gesture with your hand for her to get up


                                            “Pinkie, get up. Get up, and… just, sit down on the edge of the bed for a second, okay?”


                                            >Well, based on the way she reacts, Pinkie was CLEARLY not expecting this

                                            >she freezes in place for a moment, peering fearfully up at you

                                            >but you keep your expression as neutral as you can, and make the first move


                                            >you walk to the head of the bed where the pillows under her hips used to be

                                            >and you simply sit down, phone in hand

                                            >on the screen, you have the searchbar for Google images up

                                            >you pat the spot next to you, and speak very firmly


                                            “Pinkie, come here. Sit down. I need to show you something.”


                                            >Pinkie, at first, seems to lack trust in you

                                            >perhaps she thinks you’re going to snatch her up when she moves closer

                                            >but after a few seconds of hesitation, Pinkie slowly but surely makes her way over to you

                                            >”Um… okay. Yes, Anon…”


                                            >getting up, she cautiously slides her rump over to the edge of the bed and has a seat beside you

                                            >you nod your head in approval


                                            “Good, Pinkie. Now, I want you to look at what I’m about to show you…”


                                            >you type the phrase into the searchbar

                                            >just the words “Diabetic amputation”

                                            >and then, you press enter


                                            >what pops up on the screen, the images… they even make you cringe

                                            >and when you peek over at Pinkie, who is nervously peering over your shoulder…


                                            >And as soon as she sees the images, you watch as her ears pin back and her jaw drops

                                            >she can only look for a few seconds at the images of purple feet and other limbs with the skin rotting off of them, before she can’t look anymore

                                            >with a shiver, she turns away and closes her eyes with a gasp


                                            >”A-Anon! W-w-what was that? Why did you…”

                                            >she trails off, her voice sounding hurt

                                            >part of you feels bad for essentially traumatizing her, but to be honest

                                            >that was exactly the reaction you had been hoping for.


                                            >you take advantage of her when she is in this state, and you are fast to reply

                                            >you close out of the window on your phone, and set it back into your pocket


                                            “Pinkie, those were images of people with diabetes. Those people… they had to get limbs removed. Diabetes made their skin rot away, and they had to get their feet, or sometimes… even their whole legs cut off.”


                                            >You let the weight of those words sink into her head

                                            >Pinkie Pie gasps once more, and her eyes open up wide with surprise

                                            >She still doesn’t dare look in your direction, where she think you still have the phone opened to those horrible images

                                            >but even from the side, you can see the tears forming in her eyes

                                            >you press on


                                            “That’s why, Pinkie… that’s why this is so serious. That’s why I’m trying to get you healthy, why I’m keeping you away from sweets. Because if I don’t… you might have this happen to you. Now, do you understand?”


                                            >You are very patient

                                            >but you wait for her response with baited breath

                                            >and from the looks of things, when you see the expression on her face changing, you know

                                            >you know you just succeeded.


                                            >Sure enough, Pinkie nods her head

                                            >and now, she looks back at you with tear-filled, wide eyes

                                            >”I-I… I’m sorry, Anon. I’m so sorry. I didn’t r-realize…”


                                            >There is none of the former frantic-ness in her apology

                                            >none of the sense that she was trying to get out of anything, either

                                            >instead, she sounds just… sorry.

                                            >You exhale deeply, and nod your head


                                            >I know. I know that, now. I should have explained things better to you from the start… but Pinkie, you still did what you did. And it was very, very bad. Okay? So…”


                                            >You don’t need to finish what you were about to say

                                            >the meaning of it is very clear.

                                            >Almost immediately, Pinkie’s ears pin back on her head

                                            >but as you watch her, she nods in understanding


                                            >”I-I… I understand, m-master…”


                                            >Once that word comes out of her mouth, you rear your head back in surprise

                                            >it was very, very seldom that she ever called you by “Master”

                                            >usually, it was just “Anon”...


                                            >Clearly, what you had just done had worked wonders

                                            >and part of you even begins to think about your “extra” punishment

                                            >the count had gotten all the way to three, after all…

                                            >but did you really need to…?


                                            >But no, you decide with chagrin.

                                            >You had been bluffing, true, but you had given your word regardless

                                            >And you had to follow through, as much as the idea wasn’t exactly palatable.

                                            >And truth be told, you already had something in mind, perhaps even a couple of somethings…

                                            >One in particular was perhaps, a little “out there”...

                                            >but you’d read about it somewhere before, and the phrasing of it had caught your eye

                                            >something about something that would make a horse… or in this case, a pony… move around much more and be more “lively”...

                                            >and surely, you think, burn a lot of excess calories after eating a whole pile of candy…


                                            >but you didn’t think you were ready to do such a thing unless, you suppose, Pinkie was extra, extra bad.


                                            >So, you mentally decide, a muzzle it was going to be.

                                            >as soon as this first part was over, that is…


                                            >that would have to wait until later, though.

                                            >Right now… you had a pony to punish.


                                            “Okay, Pinkie… bend back over those pillows, and move your tail, alright?”


                                            Pinkie’s whole body is once again quivering, like a kicked puppy

                                            >and you can’t help but feel sorry for her.

                                            >But this time, unlike before, Pinkie nods her head in obedience


                                            >”Okay… yes, M-Master, I w-will...”

                                            >Just like last time, it takes a moment to get her back in position.

                                            >but with your assistance, and a little wiggling of her hips, Pinkie’s rump is now right where it needs to be for the next several minutes

                                            >and you don’t even have to tell her anything else, this time, before she obeys you

                                            >With a nervous twitch, Pinkie reluctantly flips her tail off to the side, flagging it high

                                            >this action leaves her exposed, her bare bottom ready for the belt now in your hand

                                            >with a whimper, Pinkie lays still and closes her eyes, hiding her face in her hooves


                                            >you nod. It’s time.

                                            >sidestepping her back legs, which are anxiously fidgeting in the air and giving tiny little kicks, you rest the belt across her butt

                                            >her buns clench in response, and she cringes

                                            >but this time, not a word leaves her mouth

                                            >this time… she looks totally resigned


                                            >You bite your lip, and then address Pinkie with a firm tone of voice

                                            “Good girl, Pinkie. Now, two things before we get started, okay?”


                                            >Pinkie nods, eyes squeezed shut

                                            > but she’s listening

                                            >You continue


                                            “Absolutely no reaching back or trying to cover your bottom, okay? That means your hoof AND your tail, missy. If you do, it’s gonna mean extra spanks, got it? And second… when this is over, we’re gonna… we’re gonna talk about your other punishment. Alright?”


                                            >Well, this is shaping up to be quite the series of bombshell announcements for poor Pinkie

                                            >She whimpers, and can barely even speak she’s so afraid

                                            >But once more, she nods her head and affirms her understanding

                                            >”Y-Yes, Master…”


                                            “Okay, Pinkie. Now be brave, and take your punishment like a good girl.”


                                            >And with that now said, you raise the belt above your head

                                            >the folded leather strap curls backward like a whip, and you train your eyes down on the lightly swaying target before you

                                            >Pinkie inhales, and holds her breath

                                            >you concentrate…


                                            >You swing the belt, and it cuts through the air with a light whistle

                                            >before landing harshly down onto her raised rump with a loud, crisp THWACK!


                                            >it lands harshly, but true.

                                            >the force is enough to visibly ripple the skin of her bubbly buns, and the sound is enough to ring around the room with what almost seems like an echo


                                            >For a moment, the room is silent

                                            >But after what feels like the longest second of all time, one which drags on and on…

                                            >the pain settles in, and Pinkie’s cry cuts through the air almost as badly as the belt


                                            >”Aah, AAH! Oww!”

                                            >The cry she makes, you swear, almost sounds… you didn’t know how to describe it

                                            >questioning?

                                            >As if she had just experienced something that was even worse than anything she could have expected...

                                            >...and she was asking you why it hurt so bad.


                                            >But you didn’t have an answer.

                                            >more little owws and ouches stammer out of her, and her breathing quickens

                                            >You felt a tightness in your chest at the sight, and you see her hips flex and pull slightly away from you


                                            >But the pillows were now doing their job

                                            >Despite her pelvis trying to flatten out, Pinkie’s bottom was still pushed up in the air

                                            >and you still had a job to do


                                            >So, you once again raise the belt

                                            >And just as hard as before, you slash it across her bottom, right below the now forming dark pink stripe where the first spank had landed

                                            >THWACK!


                                            >”OWW! Oh, owwowwoww…”

                                            >Nothing coherent comes out of the poor pink pony’s mouth

                                            >just a frenzy of “owws” and the light wiggling of her tush

                                            >you see her tail dock flinch, and her tail swishes just a little bit

                                            >surely, with a protective reflex to cover her now harshly stinging cheeks

                                            >but gladly, it doesn’t get close to trying to cover up, you note with a bit of relief

                                            >Time for the next one.

                                            >You raise the belt…


                                            >Whistle, THWACK!


                                            >”AAAOW! Yow, owwww…”


                                            >Whistle, THWACK!


                                            >”AH! Owwieeeeeowowowow…”


                                            >Whistle, THWACK!


                                            >”AIEE!”


                                            >Three, four, and five stripe her tush just as hard as the first two

                                            >slashing in what you intended to be a good hard “lick” across her bare buns

                                            >Pinkie’s head is now raised, and her squeals after each spank make you purse your lips in sympathy


                                            >you give her a good few seconds in between each spank to pace the punishment better

                                            >and, you note, to help avoid overwhelming her too quickly with too much pain all at once

                                            >you wanted this to hurt, and hurt pretty bad, but you still didn’t want it to go too far…


                                            >Six, seven, and eight go by, each crisp spank sounding just as painful as the last

                                            >Pinkie’s bottom wriggles, and her hooves start to kick out in the air as she gasps in pain and devolves into pitiful whines in between licks

                                            >Her bottom tries to shift around, swaying slightly from side to side, but in her position she’s pretty well pinned in place

                                            >You just keep concentrating and mentally filter out all of the cries and squeals of pain


                                            >Whistle, THWACK!


                                            >”Oww! Nyah, buhhhuhhh…”


                                            >A small sob escapes her

                                            >the tears are now really flowing, trickling down her face in rivulets

                                            >and her darker pink bottom tries and fails to find relief as she pops in into the air, only to flatten her hips once more

                                            >at least, as much as the pillows will allow…


                                            >But the poor thing has a while to go.

                                            >You knew you were going to lose count of the spanks, soon

                                            >and when you did, the only thing left you’d be paying attention to was the color of her butt

                                            >which was about to be quite neon red before you decided to stop...


                                            >You continue to punish the little, slightly chubby pink pony with spank after spank after spank

                                            >and after a while, her distinct cries and howls of pain in response to the licks begin to mold together into one steady stream of sobs and crying

                                            >The dark pink stripes across her already pink cheeks begin to overlap, and the color begins to glow painfully on her bare skin like a sunburn

                                            >you continue to train the belt strap down onto her proffered buns, eliciting sharp yelps and squeals of pain


                                            >Whistle, THWACK! Whistle, THWACK! Whistle, THWACK…


                                            >Pinkie’s hooves kick more frantically, and her tail begins to swish

                                            >you are of course standing safely off to the side, not in any danger of being accidentally kicked by the pained pony

                                            >but just as you’re about to deliver the next whack, you manage to stop yourself just in time…


                                            >Dock twitching, her tail swishes over her bottom.

                                            >you grimace, and lower the belt.


                                            “Pinkie Pie, that’s gonna be five extra later tonight. Move your tail, missy.”


                                            >”Owww… y-yes, Anon… ‘m-m sorry…”

                                            >The poor thing moves her tail back off to the side, and you waste no time and raise the belt again.

                                            >you know she wasn’t trying to defy you…

                                            >but you need her to cooperate, too


                                            “Good girl. Don’t add to those, now…”


                                            >Whistle, THWACK, Whistle, THWACK...


                                            >”AHAHHOWW!”


                                            >Another minute, then another, tick by on the clock

                                            >You still space out each spank by a few seconds, but now they’re starting to really add up

                                            >Her bottom was somewhat difficult to gauge since it was already, well, PINK… but the redness was starting to come in, now

                                            >Pinkie Pie’s bottom must surely feel like it is blazing hot by now, too, judging from her new reactions…

                                            >Her hooves kick and crisscross and scissor back and forth, and she buries her teary eyes in her front legs

                                            >And now, her spanked behind is starting to shake, doing its own agonized little dance


                                            >But then, once again, her tail swishes over her reddened cheeks

                                            >and once more, you sigh


                                            “Pinkie… I know it hurts, but you need to move your tail. We’re not done…”


                                            >Poor Pinkie Pie doesn’t reply at first

                                            >she just sobs and flattens her hips, rubbing her legs together

                                            >You wait for a moment, but when you don’t see compliance, you shake your head


                                            >Your hand reaches out and grabs her tail, flipping it up and away

                                            >exposing her tender cheeks for the rest of the spanking

                                            >thankfully, Pinkie doesn’t try to move her tail back once you do this

                                            >Instead, she gives another couple of hoofy kicks, and sobs below her breath

                                            >But you still are able to hear it


                                            >“M’sorry…I’ll be g-good...”


                                            >Well, that breaks your heart a little bit, you have to say

                                            >takes you out of your zone, away from your sense of duty, if only for a fleeting moment

                                            >You frown, and sigh with a shake of your head


                                            “Okay, Pinkie. That’s gonna be another ten extra since I had to move it, alright? Keep your tail out of the way…”


                                            >”Y-Yes, Master…”

                                            >she doesn’t protest.

                                            >she knows she deserves every lick, and she knows she messed up


                                            >You get right back to it.

                                            >Whistle, THWACK!


                                            >”YOOOWWCH!”


                                            >Another minute, and another series of spanks goes by

                                            >Pinkie Pie whimpers, squeaks, and sobs pitifully in between harsh whacks

                                            >Now, both of her bottom cheeks are really starting to glow, and the shade of red is deepening

                                            >but against her still pink body, it’s clear to you… she still has some more to go before you’re satisfied.

                                            >but not too much more, now...


                                            >Whistle, THWACK! Whistle, THWACK, Whistle, THWACK…


                                            >The second hand on the clock manages to go all the way around another time

                                            >and now, Pinkie is feeling it in full!

                                            >Her hooves kick frantically, her bottom wiggles and shakes in desperate effort to find some relief

                                            >but no relief was yet forthcoming, and the pillows beneath her hips were forcing her butt to stick right up in the air no matter what she did

                                            >another time, her tail swishes over her bum, and you once again warn her of five more extra licks

                                            >she moves it out of the way, this time, but you know she’s starting to reach the point where she is having a hard time helping it


                                            >and, you also notice, she isn’t begging or pleading for you to stop, either

                                            >and she’s simply accepting the fact that she had more coming later tonight, too…


                                            >Only a few more to go…

                                            >Whistle, THWACK…


                                            >The spot below her face is a puddle of tears, now

                                            >Her struggling and waving her butt around is also lessening, too

                                            >she’s reaching the stage of the spanking where she’s getting sweaty and tired out, even though her bottom is still burning like a stovetop

                                            >and the redness is bright enough that you can almost feel it radiating heat into the air

                                            >Pinkie moans pathetically,  and continues to muffle her sobbing with her face firmly pressed into her forelegs


                                            >It’s time.

                                            >biting your lip, you raise the belt, higher above your head than all the rest, and it hisses through the air like a venomous snake as you slash it down


                                            >SsssssssTHWACK!!!


                                            >”AAAAAOOWWWW! YOWOWOWOWOOUCHIEOWOWOWOW!!!!”

                                            >The belt whips her rump with enough force that the resounding POP across her bare cheeks practically echoes across the room

                                            >A white hot stripe of pain stretches across her butt, and Pinkie’s resulting squeal demonstrates to you how effective it was

                                            >It takes a few seconds for that white stripe across her now desperately wriggling butt to fade into beet red

                                            >Pinkie shakes her hips from side to side, and her hooves kick out uselessly behind her as she dances her bottom around in circles


                                            >But despite the fact that this had been the harshest, most intense spank of the whole punishment, Pinkie’s pained wiggling eventually stops

                                            >and with a whimper and a whine, her hips once again plop down onto the elevating pillows, and her butt becomes mostly still

                                            >her tail never even swishes down to protect her red behind

                                            >and just like that, she was ready for the next spank, which was sure to be just as painful…


                                            >Only there was no more spanking to come. It was over.

                                            >You unfold the now warm belt in your hand, and with a sigh of relief, you toss the damn thing down to the floor

                                            >The belt buckle lands audibly onto the carpet, and Pinkie’s pinned ears perk up despite her profuse sobbing

                                            >You clasp your hands together, and close your eyes.


                                            “It’s over, Pinkie. We’re done.”


                                            CONTINUED 5/1/2020


                                            >The moment those words leave your mouth, Pinkie squeaks and sobs out with relief

                                            >She kicks her legs a little bit and bucks her hips off of the cursed pillow underneath

                                            >she rolls onto the bed and immediately, her hooves shoot back to grab hold of her butt


                                            >But you frown, and shake your head

                                            >through her plentiful ouches and owwies, you speak sternly down at her


                                            “No, Pinkie. Hooves away from your butt, missy. No rubbing!”


                                            >This order seems to bring out just a slight bit of hesitance in Pinkie

                                            >Her hooves, which have already gone back to clamp over her bottom cheeks, twitch with just the littlest bit of uncertainty

                                            >But you give her a few seconds, and to your satisfaction, she complies with a sad little whimper

                                            >taking her hooves away from her butt, she puts them out in front of herself

                                            >her tail swishes rapidly, and she looks back at you through red and teary eyes questioningly

                                            >You smile sadly.


                                            “Good, Pinkie. Now, I’d better not catch you reaching back before bedtime, understood? Your punishment isn’t over yet and… and we have to talk about your other punishment, too. Okay? So…”


                                            >You reach down, and take a gentle hold of her left hoof

                                            >Pinkie flinches just a little bit, which makes you feel a dull ache in your heart, but she quickly relaxes when she feels you trying to help her up from the bed

                                            >You assist her into standing up, and softly but clearly guide her off the bed and to the far corner of the room

                                            >you point at the corner and talk down to the quietly sniffling and sobbing little pony


                                            “Ok Pinkie Pie. I want you to put your nose in that corner now while you calm down. Got it? Don’t move your nose out of that corner and no. Rubbing. Your butt. Understand?”


                                            >Pinkie looks shamefully down at the floor and nods her head, wiping her nose with her hoof and sniffling

                                            >She nods her head contritely

                                            >”Yes, Master. Ow…”


                                            >A little kick of her hoof and a twitch of her tail end betrays how much her bottom must be burning

                                            >You know it must be agonizing not to be able to rub her heiny for the next few hours, but as you said already, her punishment wasn’t over yet

                                            >she still had more spanks later this evening and it didn’t seem right to let her get some relief before you could carry out the punishment

                                            >she was just going to have to endure it until her first punishment was complete...


                                            >So, you escort her to the corner and she obediently sticks her snotty little nose up against the wall

                                            >You back away, and almost right away you notice her tail swishing some more back and forth

                                            >part of you wants to let it go, but you know what she’s doing.

                                            >She was fanning the air onto her burning hot red cheeks with her floofy tail, and that was just the same as reaching back…

                                            >So, you nip that in the bud right away


                                            “Pinkie, no moving your tail, either. Keep it all the way out of the way, got it?


                                            >Another whine escapes her

                                            >she was obviously hoping you would make an exception for her tail, but alas, no cigar!

                                            >but she quickly obeys you, and flags her tail high and off to the side

                                            >leaving her red bottom bared and exposed to the air

                                            >another sad sniffle

                                            >”Y-yes, Master Anon. S-Sorry…”


                                            “It’s okay. Just don’t do it again.”


                                            >You take a look at your watch and note the time

                                            >It was 7:30 pm, a little later than you thought

                                            >You grimace, and sigh to yourself

                                            >It would seem the spanking took a good long while from start to finish...


                                            >you decide upon one hour of cornertime.

                                            >It sounds a little mean, but you wanted this lesson you dealt to her rear end to really simmer on her skin for a while

                                            >she’d more than earned this one.

                                            >but even more… she’d earned the muzzle or the rest of the week, too.

                                            >And speaking of which… you had to go get that, didn’t you?


                                            >You get up from your seat on the bed, where you had been carefully watching Pinkie

                                            “Pinkie Pie, wait right here. I will be back in a minute. No rubbing.”


                                            >Pinkie Pie doesn’t respond with anything other than a whispered “Yes, Master”

                                            >So, you leave her there with her nose planted firmly in the corner and her lightly swaying bottom still unable to find relief, and go to your room across the hall


                                            >There was a chest under your bed that had barely ever been opened since the day you got Pinkie Pie

                                            >It included some equipment that came with your purchase…

                                            >most of which you were likely never going to use

                                            >tack, a small saddle, a riding crop…

                                            >and a muzzle.


                                            >It was a soft leather piece with rather strong looking straps to fasten them onto a pony’s head and snout

                                            >You take a look at it for a few seconds before you pick it up from the chest, shoving it back under your bed where it won’t see the light of day until you have to put back the muzzle


                                            >But that wasn’t the only thing you had to get, either

                                            >No, you had something else in mind that was going to be necessary in an hour

                                            >You had to admit that the belt seems to have worked wonders for your disobedient little pink puffball

                                            >but at the same time, you also didn’t want to give Pinkie another potential opportunity to mess things up and reach back during her punishment again tonight

                                            >another chance to earn extra spanks

                                            >So, you had something else in mind…


                                            >You take a quick trip to the kitchen and retrieve a nice big wooden spatula from the drawer

                                            >and then, you walk back to Pinkie’s room where you expect your little pony to still be standing with her nose in the corner

                                            >And sure enough, she is still standing there, nose planted firmly against the wall…


                                            >and her tail, just a little bit too slow, swishes back away from her behind.

                                            >Pinkie can’t prevent a little startled gasp from escaping her, and her whole body cringes

                                            >clearly, she was surprised and didn’t hear you coming until you were already back...


                                            >You stand still in the doorway, and your heart sinks.

                                            >God. Fucking. Damn it.


                                            “Pinkie.”


                                            >Pinkie Pie meeps with fear, but says nothing in response.

                                            >She knows you caught her, just from your tone of voice.

                                            >You grip the spatula in your hand a little more tightly, and you feel your heart rate increasing


                                            >But, despite your disappointment, you stay calm.

                                            >Pinkie Pie’s tail is once again flagged up and out of the way, perhaps even extra high in the air

                                            >Trying perhaps to silently make up for or apologize somehow for her disobedience once again

                                            >But alas… no cigar.

                                            >You exhale deeply.


                                            “Pinkie…”

                                            >You sit down on the side of her bed, but before you do so, you drop the muzzle on the floor at the foot of the bed

                                            >But the spatula stays in your other hand

                                            >You snap your finger, and point to the floor in front of you

                                            “Pinkie Pie, turn around. Turn around, and come here right now.”


                                            >Pinkie Pie’s ears are so pinned back on her head they may as well have been tied down

                                            >She quivers a little, and swallows nervously

                                            >But she fearfully turns around, and her teary eyes start dripping once again


                                            >When she sees the spatula in your hand, she gives a tiny little whimper

                                            >Padding softly and fearfully over to you with her head hanging low

                                            >You meet her partway, reaching out and grabbing her by the mane firmly

                                            >She squeaks as you pull her close, and with a little grunt of effort, you pull her over your lap

                                            >Pinkie doesn’t resist, accepting her fate tearfully


                                            >In a matter of a few moments, you’ve adjusted Pinkie over your knees by resting her upper body on the bed

                                            >Her hind legs also rest on top of the bed, back hooves extended behind her

                                            >but her hips are perched on top of your thigh, which you’ve adjusted very deliberately to be right where they needed to be for what you were about to do next


                                            >Pinkie’s breathing quickens as the gravity of her new position and the fact that she had ONCE AGAIN disobeyed you starts to sink in

                                            >You make one last adjustment to her slightly pudgy pink body, and center her already very well-spanked rump on your lap

                                            >you pull her tail up and pin it down on her back, holding her body down on the bed and over your knees

                                            >Once again exposing the pink mare’s beet red butt for yet another earned chastisement

                                            >God damn it, Pinkie...


                                            >you bite your lip with concentration, and you tap the light wooden spatula down on her bared bottom which lays arched up over your thigh

                                            >Pinkie flinches with the contact and meeps, and she buries her head submissively in her front legs

                                            >You sigh, and shake your head down at her.


                                            “Pinkie Pie, I am very, very disappointed in you. You would have had your extra spanks after you were finished with corner time and this would have all been over. But you tried to sneak another thing past me and disobeyed me again.”


                                            >Pinkie’s bottom clenches with anxiety and anticipation of the first whack, which is sure to come any moment

                                            >But she listens to you, and nods her head with shame

                                            >”I-I’m sorry, Master I shouldn’t have… I-I… m-my butt was really sore, a-and I…”


                                            “Well, it’s about to be a lot more sore, Pinkie.”

                                            >Pinkie Pie squeaks with fear, and falls silent

                                            >You give her bottom another pair of taps with the spatula, making her tail twitch under your pinning hand

                                            “I’m sorry, but you’ve left me no choice. And you’re still gonna have to take your corner time after, too, and then… you’ve still got those extra swats before bedtime. Alright? So…”


                                            >You raise the spatula, and Pinkie’s body curls up a little bit over your lap in fearful reflex

                                            >but unfortunately for her, in doing so she inadvertently sticks her bubbly round butt up a little bit higher in the air

                                            >taking advantage of the better presented target, you take a second to aim…


                                            >The light wooden spatula lighty swishes through the air with a quiet hiss, and lands with a sharp WHAP onto her right buttcheek

                                            >The hot red skin ripples with the force of the strike, and Pinkie yelps into her hooves

                                            >”OW!”


                                            >when you lift the spatula, the spot you just spanked fades from a square white spot into the same shade of beet red

                                            >like you had just pressed against a sunburn

                                            >surely reigniting all of the pain and heat from her belting all over again...

                                            >Pinkie’s hindlegs give a little kick, and her bottom reflexively wiggles just a little to the left, away from the spank

                                            >You take a deep breath, and give a little nod in approval

                                            >This instrument was considerably lighter than the belt, that was for sure

                                            >but that was clearly the proper strength swat.


                                            >Another hiss as the spatula is swung, and another harsh CLAP of wood against bare skin, this time on her left cheek

                                            >Pinkie barely has any time to process the second spank, because with your teeth gritted, you train the third, fourth, and fifth spanks back and forth onto each buttock in rapid sequence

                                            >Pinkie’s little yelps quickly turn into pained and surprised squeals as the pace of the spatula rapidly whapping her rosy red buns picks up

                                            >You hold her down very firmly, rendering her early struggling over your knee totally futile as you deliver two to three spanks per second to both bottom cheeks, one after another


                                            >What this little spanking implement lacks in weight and force, it makes up for in stinging speed

                                            >Her hind legs start to kick and kick, drumming her hooves on the bed

                                            >but they don’t get in your way at all, and kick as they may, they do nothing to save her poor burning bottom from yet another punishment

                                            >Your arm has her pretty well pinned down over your lap, and her hips wriggle and shake helplessly while the spatula turns her bottom much hotter over your knee

                                            >the time between spanks barely leaving any time for the square white spank imprints to fade back to red


                                            >Only a minute of this constant, blisteringly fast spanking pace passes by, and Pinkie is starting to pant and gasp

                                            >While this little spatula’s swats aren’t particularly hard or their impacts very deep, that wasn’t your goal this time

                                            >The surface level spanks on her skin, delivered at such a speed one after another, served merely to raise the temperature of her bottom to absolutely flaming and reignite the pain of her previous spanking all over again

                                            >and god damn was it working.


                                            >”AH, AH! Aaaow, hahh, aahhh, aahh!”

                                            >Pinkie pants like a dog in between howls and cries, almost as if her body is trying to get rid of the excess heat now building up on her blazing butt

                                            >Her hips buck up and down, her butt squirms desperately from side to side under your chin, her hind legs kick and stamp on the bed and her body tries and fails to roll back and forth over your knees

                                            >But still, you deliver thwack after cathartic thwack to her deeply reddened behind and never give her tush a break

                                            >This was a punishment she would never forget, you would make sure


                                            >Pinkie’s hooves scrabble around in front of her like she’s trying to swim away

                                            >but despite all her efforts, all they serve to do are slightly pull her bottom even further toward the center of your lap

                                            >and, much to her dismay, accidentally arching it up even further in the air yet again


                                            >the sight of her beet red butt positioned so prominently, unintentionally but so invitingly aimed high toward the ceiling, seemed to flip some sort of switch in your brain

                                            >It’s practically instinct on your part when, in reply, you speed up the spanking even further

                                            >And the spatula becomes a fast moving blur as it whizzes through the air, spanking so fast that it sounds like her rump is giving a round of applause


                                            >Pinkie’s squeals get more shrill, and tears once again begin to flow freely from her eyes and form little puddles on the bedspread

                                            >The spatula spanks up and down each of her buns over and over again now, four or five stinging swats administered to the same tushie cheek before the same happens to the other side

                                            >her butt now dances and wiggles without any pattern over your knees, unable to do anything to escape the harsh spanking

                                            >which continues and continues with seemingly no end in sight...


                                            >But in truth, after two solid minutes of the spatula whacking Pinkie’s poor behind without mercy, the finish line had arrived

                                            >you’d been paying attention to the watch on your left wrist and keeping note of the time

                                            >whereas the belt whipping you had given her had been much, much longer and you hadn’t been tracking the time at all

                                            >this one had been much shorter


                                            >One last pair of stinging spanks, one to each quivering bottom cheek, and it’s over.


                                            TO BE CONTINUED...