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Sweetie Belle caught red hoofed by Anon

By splishsplash
Created: 2022-01-08 03:04:42
Updated: 2026-02-10 17:24:25
Expiry: Never
spanking

  1. 1.
    Sweetie Belle caught red hoofed by Anon
  2. 2.
     
  3. 3.
    (17/05/2021 - 10/12/2025)
  4. 4.
     
  5. 5.
    https://desuarchive.org/mlp/thread/36858137/#q37008942
  6. 6.
    https://desuarchive.org/mlp/thread/37813344/#q37911021
  7. 7.
    https://desuarchive.org/mlp/thread/39677187/#q39752112
  8. 8.
    https://desuarchive.org/mlp/thread/42842888/#42864433
  9. 9.
     
  10. 10.
    ---
  11. 11.
     
  12. 12.
    >Sweetie, cought red hoofed, can take as much cookies as she wants with the caviot that she gets two smacks on each buttcheek with the spatula for each one.
  13. 13.
    >Guesstimating how many cookies are in there, it looks like about 10. That means 100 spanks.
  14. 14.
    >Make her do the the math for extra pre-spanking stress.
  15. 15.
     
  16. 16.
    ...
  17. 17.
     
  18. 18.
    >"Ok Sweetie Belle. Did you enjoy your cookies?"
  19. 19.
     
  20. 20.
    >The little filly looks up at you while she lays on her back
  21. 21.
    >hoof clutching her belly
  22. 22.
    >she groans
  23. 23.
    >"Y-Yes, Anon... but now my tummy hurts"
  24. 24.
     
  25. 25.
    >You smirk.
  26. 26.
    >"Oh does it now? Well, I know what'll make your tummy hurt less."
  27. 27.
     
  28. 28.
    >Sweetie Belle's ears perk up
  29. 29.
    >she looks back up at you, and her eyes narrowed suspiciously
  30. 30.
    >"R-Really? Wh-what?"
  31. 31.
     
  32. 32.
    >You smirk again.
  33. 33.
    >Then, you reveal the spatula you've been holding behind your back, and pat it against your palm.
  34. 34.
    >Sweetie Belle's face instantly turns red, and she whimpers under her breath.
  35. 35.
    >You nod your head knowingly.
  36. 36.
     
  37. 37.
    >"The pain in your little rear end will help you to forget aaaaall about your aching tummy, hmm?"
  38. 38.
     
  39. 39.
    >Sweetie Belle remains frozen on the bed
  40. 40.
    >She looks up at you with fear in her eyes
  41. 41.
    >as well as knowingness... she definitely still remembers the little "deal" you both made
  42. 42.
    >she shakes her head
  43. 43.
    >"n-nuh uh..."
  44. 44.
     
  45. 45.
    >"Yuh HUH. And how many spanks did we say you'd get for each cookie?"
  46. 46.
     
  47. 47.
    >Sweetie Belle's eyes are tearing up
  48. 48.
    >She hides her cute little face in her hooves
  49. 49.
    >"F-f-five spanks."
  50. 50.
     
  51. 51.
    >"Five for EACH side, Sweetie. You remember?"
  52. 52.
    >Sweetie whimpers again, and tears well up in her eyes
  53. 53.
    >She seemingly is only starting to realize just how doomed her little butt now is...
  54. 54.
     
  55. 55.
    >Now it's time for a math lesson.
  56. 56.
    >you tap your palm again, and sit down on the side of the bed next to her
  57. 57.
    >Sweetie Belle continues to hide her face and squeaks when she sees that you're so close to her now
  58. 58.
     
  59. 59.
    >"And how many cookies did you eat, Sweetie Belle?"
  60. 60.
     
  61. 61.
    >You of course know the answer, but you give her some time to guess
  62. 62.
    >as well as some time to see how honest she'll be...
  63. 63.
    >sure enough...
  64. 64.
    >"S-Six cookies?"
  65. 65.
     
  66. 66.
    >Sweetie Belle's guess is QUTTE far off.
  67. 67.
    >You tsk tsk at her, and shake your head, clutching the spatula more tightly in your hand
  68. 68.
    >"Hmm. Six? Are you sure? Because for every cookie you are off, I'm going to give you another five spanks for each side, Sweetie. And yes, I DO know how many cookies you've had, young lady."
  69. 69.
     
  70. 70.
    >oh man, now THAT gets Sweetie's attention.
  71. 71.
    >She gasps, and her eyes peek out from under her hooves up at you
  72. 72.
    >You stare down at her with a no nonsense expression, and raise your eyebrow expectantly
  73. 73.
    >"Well?"
  74. 74.
     
  75. 75.
    >Sweetie Belle takes a second to answer, but she sniffles and fidgets her little back legs around nervously
  76. 76.
    >"Ummm... I g-guess I ate... t-twelve?"
  77. 77.
     
  78. 78.
    >Closer, for sure. But still no.
  79. 79.
    >You shake your head again, and Sweetie blanches
  80. 80.
    >"Mm mm. Sixteen, Sweetie Belle. So... you weren't counting, hm?"
  81. 81.
     
  82. 82.
    >It was actually fourteen, but you don't tell her that.
  83. 83.
    >You're going to consider the extra 40 spanks she's getting her penalty for lying to you. >Hearing such a big number, Sweetie Belle whines and whimpers in fear, and she scoots a little bit away from you
  84. 84.
    >her fluffy little tail tucks in between her legs, covering her soon to be spanked cheeks protectively
  85. 85.
     
  86. 86.
    >"S-ss...s-sixteen??"
  87. 87.
    >Sweetie's voice does one of its classic "Sweetie squeaks" as her voice rises
  88. 88.
    >You nod your head gravely.
  89. 89.
    >"'Fraid so, young filly. And you knew very well that you didn't eat only six cookies before, too. Didn't you?"
  90. 90.
     
  91. 91.
    >You scooch a little closer to Sweetie Belle, lowering your voice dangerously.
  92. 92.
    >Sweetie Belle begins to shiver, and she takes a second to truthfully nod her head
  93. 93.
    >"Y-yes, Anon... I'm s-sorry..."
  94. 94.
     
  95. 95.
    >"So you lied to me, Sweetie Belle?"
  96. 96.
     
  97. 97.
    >The moment the word "lie" leaves your lips, the tears start to flow
  98. 98.
    >You know that all of Sweetie Belle's worst spankings have been for lying, something which her family considers to be a very serious offense
  99. 99.
    >her parents had told you as much before you were left to foalsit Sweetie Belle for a whole week
  100. 100.
    >And today was only Day 2...
  101. 101.
     
  102. 102.
    >Sweetie Belle shakes her head, and her hoof instinctively reaches back to her bottom
  103. 103.
    >"N-no, please, I didn't mean to! I'm sorry Anon, I'm sorry I lied! I won't do it again!"
  104. 104.
     
  105. 105.
    >Gosh, "Sweetie" really is aptly named.
  106. 106.
    >She knows her butt is in jeopardy, and she looks very scared now
  107. 107.
    >You don't raise your voice or offer much of a facial expression to her
  108. 108.
    >in fact, you don't even answer her pleas, and instead continue to hammer home how screwed she is
  109. 109.
     
  110. 110.
    >"So Sweetie Belle, answer this question. It's a math question, ok? If you're going to get five spanks on each side of your tush for every cookie you ate, plus five more spanks on each side for every cookie you were off...how many spanks are you getting?"
  111. 111.
     
  112. 112.
    >Ok, this was getting pretty mean, now.
  113. 113.
    >Sweetie Belle HATES math. She's borderline learning disabled with math, actually
  114. 114.
    >And you honestly suspect that's why she went and decided to just eat all the cookies in the jar like she did, too
  115. 115.
    >little fatty...
  116. 116.
     
  117. 117.
    >Sweetie Belle takes a good long time to even focus on the math you've just presented her
  118. 118.
    >She's probably so worried about the good long spanking she's sure to get in a minute to properly focus
  119. 119.
    >her eyes blinking out more tears and her whimpering getting louder and more pathetic
  120. 120.
    >But you wait patiently...
  121. 121.
     
  122. 122.
    >Eventually, through her whines, Sweetie Belle sniffles out her answer, her lip quivering in fear
  123. 123.
     
  124. 124.
    >"F-five plus five is t-ten... a-and sixteen cookies i-is... it's... one hundred sixty, p-plus... t-two hundred?!?"
  125. 125.
     
  126. 126.
    >Sweetie Belle arrives at the final, correct answer.
  127. 127.
    >you're honestly kind of proud of her for that, especially since she sucks so hard at math!
  128. 128.
    >But unfortunately, the final figure... it's real big.
  129. 129.
    >Sweetie's squeaking little voice cracks, and she instantly devolves into crying
  130. 130.
    >You watch her as she enters "begging mode" with her big, watery eyes looking up at you imploringly
  131. 131.
    >"P-please, Anon, not so m-many! I've never had a spanking that hard before, not even close! P-please no Anon, I'll be good!"
  132. 132.
     
  133. 133.
    >Sweetie Belle earnestly pleads for her poor, poor butt
  134. 134.
    >She's breathing pretty hard, almost panicking
  135. 135.
    >And while you aren't normally swayed by her "begging face" despite how cute it is... the words she just spoke actually do get your attention, though.
  136. 136.
    >'Not even close...'
  137. 137.
     
  138. 138.
    >ok, now you're curious.
  139. 139.
    >You've seen some fillies and colts in Equestria getting their bottoms LIT UP before
  140. 140.
    >spanked and spanked for a good long while until tanned to dark red...
  141. 141.
    >but you now that not every parent spanks the same number of times, either
  142. 142.
    >You begin to wonder how hard Sweetie gets it... so screw it. You'll ask.
  143. 143.
     
  144. 144.
    >"Ok, Sweetie... tell me. How many times do you parents spank you when you've been naughty, young filly?"
  145. 145.
     
  146. 146.
    >Sweetie Belle continues to softly cry and sniffle and wipe her eyes in her little hooves
  147. 147.
    >while her tail swishes around nervously
  148. 148.
    >Her face turns bright red at the question, though, seemingly embarrassed by you asking her such a personal question and she starts to stammer
  149. 149.
     
  150. 150.
    >"T-Two spanks for every year old I am. I'm s-seven..."
  151. 151.
    >ohhh boy. Well, that explains why she's panicking THIS much, then...
  152. 152.
    >Poor little filly's only ever gotten 14 spanks in TOTAL, at most, before.
  153. 153.
    >And now, you were about to give her TWO HUNDRED...
  154. 154.
    >And now, you won't lie, but you actually do feel a little bad as you begin to understand the situation.
  155. 155.
     
  156. 156.
    >But still... you made the commitment.
  157. 157.
    >You can't go back on your word, can you? >That's like the cardinal sin of any parent or guardian!
  158. 158.
    >And besides, even though Sweetie Belle is going to be puuuuunished here in a minute, the fact remains that a filly's butt is more than capable of taking a good, hard, long spanking
  159. 159.
    >especially SWEETIE'S slightly chubby little bubble butt, for Celestia's sake...
  160. 160.
     
  161. 161.
    >Hmm...
  162. 162.
     
  163. 163.
    >in your mind though, you start to develop a plan.
  164. 164.
    >You know damn well that you need to follow through on your threat, and it looks like Sweetie Belle is owed her 200 spanks
  165. 165.
    >but still, you also didn't want to end up giving the little filly a full blown panic attack, either...
  166. 166.
    >she was already breathing hard and her eyes were leaking tears
  167. 167.
     
  168. 168.
    >So, you unveil your master plan to her, tapping your hand with the spatula again a you speak
  169. 169.
    >".....alright, Sweetie Belle. Here's how we're going to do this. Young filly, you're gonna get all 200 spanks for being a glutton and eating all the cookies without permission. But..."
  170. 170.
    >Sweetie Belle already starts to plead under her breath with you the instant you declared she was getting ALL 200 spanks
  171. 171.
    >but when you say "but", she does luckily pipe down just the littlest bit
  172. 172.
    >and her eyes look up at you with tears streaming down her cheeks
  173. 173.
    >You keep going
  174. 174.
     
  175. 175.
    >"But... it's up to you when we get them done. So here's the deal. I know you hate math, right?"
  176. 176.
    >Sweetie Belle whines, but she does nod her little head
  177. 177.
    >She's still listening!
  178. 178.
    >You smile, and chance laying your hand down on her head
  179. 179.
    >Sweetie actually doesn't flinch away, either... she must be truly feeling guilty, you guess!
  180. 180.
     
  181. 181.
    >"For the next five days, you're going to pick when you are gonna get your spankings, AND how many spanks you're going to get. BUT, young lady, when you do decide to get your spankings done? It's a minimum of 30 spanks each time, missy. Do you understand?"
  182. 182.
     
  183. 183.
    >Sweetie Belle keeps on sniffling and quietly sobbing, but from her expression, she is listening to you
  184. 184.
    >she takes a while... but she does nod her head
  185. 185.
    >"uh huh... S-so I c-can't do less than 30 s...spanks?"
  186. 186.
    >Poor little filly is still stammering.
  187. 187.
    >You imagine that even the prospect of THIRTY spanks at once is pretty daunting to a filly who hasn't had more than fourteen!
  188. 188.
    >It's almost like Sweetie is getting a *super* spanking every day of the week
  189. 189.
    >plus another 20 spanks, too...
  190. 190.
     
  191. 191.
    >"That's correct, young lady. And if you haven't gotten all of your spankings done by the end of the week... then whatever you have left, you're gonna get them all at once on Saturday. Got it, missy?"
  192. 192.
     
  193. 193.
    >Sweetie Belle gasps, and her tail once again tucks in against her doomed behind
  194. 194.
    >Her lip quivers, and she squeaks tearfully
  195. 195.
    >"Y-Yes, Anon... I'm so s-sorry..."
  196. 196.
     
  197. 197.
    >"So Sweetie Belle, it's up to YOU to do the math and keep track of how many spanks you have left. Ok, young lady?
  198. 198.
     
  199. 199.
    >So this was quite a series of bombshells, wasn't it?
  200. 200.
    >Sweetie Belle sure seems to think so...
  201. 201.
    >She seems almost beside herself right now, actually... spankings AND math?
  202. 202.
    >this was surely going to be the worst punishment ever!
  203. 203.
     
  204. 204.
    >But nonetheless, Sweetie Belle listens
  205. 205.
    >and after some more pitiful (but admittedly, very cute) whimpering, she does obediently nod her head in affirmation
  206. 206.
    >"Y-yes, Anon. B-But... th-that's... sooo many spankings..."
  207. 207.
     
  208. 208.
    >"Yes, it is."
  209. 209.
    >You don't let up on her, really hammering home just how doomed her naughty little tushy is
  210. 210.
    >"This week, I'm sure your little bare behind is gonna be nice and red and sore almost the whole time, Sweetie Belle. But those are the consequences pay for being so greedy, disobedient, and dishonest, young filly. Do you understand?"
  211. 211.
     
  212. 212.
    >Sweetie Belle's hind legs fidget some more on the bed
  213. 213.
    >you even notice her little bumcheeks clench instinctively when you say "red and sore"
  214. 214.
    >but she doesn't dare try to argue with you, either.
  215. 215.
    >She may have been very naughty today, but you know she's a good filly at heart deep down
  216. 216.
    >And she doesn't want to make you mad or disappoint you
  217. 217.
    >"Yes, A-An-non. I understand... I'm so sorry I was such a bad filly today..."
  218. 218.
     
  219. 219.
    >Aww.
  220. 220.
    >Well that tugs at your heartstrings a little bit, not gonna lie
  221. 221.
    >Not enough to not spank her, of course... but still.
  222. 222.
    >'Sweetie' truly was a great name for such a sweet filly
  223. 223.
    >Even if she is a little fatty who eats WAYYY too many cookies sometimes!
  224. 224.
    >You nod, and pet her head a little bit
  225. 225.
     
  226. 226.
    >"I forgive you, Sweetie. But you still need to face the consequences for acting like such a bad filly today. So..."
  227. 227.
     
  228. 228.
    >You stop petting her head, and once again make the spatula visible in your hand.
  229. 229.
    >Sweetie Belle squeaks and shuts her eyes, but she doesn't retreat either
  230. 230.
    >You ask her the ultimate question...
  231. 231.
     
  232. 232.
    >"Are you going to take your first spanking today, young lady?"
  233. 233.
     
  234. 234.
    >Little Sweetie Belle thinks for a minute
  235. 235.
    >her miserably downcast eyes welling up with tears
  236. 236.
    >the question of how many spanks she wants today you just asked her looks like it's trapped her into a bit of a corner
  237. 237.
    >but you wait, tapping the spatula against your palm
  238. 238.
     
  239. 239.
    >Eventually though, Sweetie looks up at you
  240. 240.
    >she stammers a little and clutches her slightly bulging tummy
  241. 241.
     
  242. 242.
    >"I-I-I…. my tummy is still hurting from the cookies. C-can we, can I d-do it later?"
  243. 243.
    >Sweetie whines, and looks away from you again in shame
  244. 244.
     
  245. 245.
    >you smirk, shaking your head mirthfully
  246. 246.
    >No surprise there!
  247. 247.
    >You expected Sweetie to try and wait….
  248. 248.
    >tummy pain PLUS butt pain is not a good combination, after all!
  249. 249.
    >you nod down at the cringing little filly
  250. 250.
     
  251. 251.
    >"Of course, Sweetie. We can do it later… tonight, before you go to bed. You think about it and decide how many spanks, and you come up here to your bedroom at 8 o'clock on the dot and we'll take care of your first spanking. Okay?"
  252. 252.
     
  253. 253.
    >More naughty whimpers from the poor, doomed little filly
  254. 254.
    >but she nods in the affirmative
  255. 255.
    >"Y-Yes Anon…"
  256. 256.
     
  257. 257.
    >"And remember Sweetie Belle, the more spanks you put off? The more spanks you're gonna get aaaall at once on Saturday. And rest assured young lady, you will be getting every single remaining spank AT ONCE. No breaks, just spanks. Got it, missy?"
  258. 258.
     
  259. 259.
    >Ok, now you're just being a meanie
  260. 260.
    >But you can't help it
  261. 261.
    >It's too much fun to hammer home just how doomed Sweetie's tushy now is!
  262. 262.
    >She whimpers and wipes her big, shiny eyes
  263. 263.
    >her tail instinctively swishing protectively over her bottom
  264. 264.
    >Yes, Anon… *sob*"
  265. 265.
     
  266. 266.
    >Good.
  267. 267.
    >You nod your head, and stand up
  268. 268.
    >Spatula still in your hand
  269. 269.
    >"Good girl, Sweetie. 8 o'clock, this room. And not a minute later, understood?"
  270. 270.
     
  271. 271.
    >The clock feels long to you
  272. 272.
    >but to Sweetie Belle, you can't imagine it could ever feel long enough…
  273. 273.
    >8 o'clock, sure enough… Sweetie Belle treads into the room
  274. 274.
    >ears pinned back, tail scrunched up, and eyes teary
  275. 275.
    >She sees you sitting there on her bed and blanches in fear
  276. 276.
    >well… blanches as white as an ALREADY white filly can!
  277. 277.
     
  278. 278.
    >You make eye contact with the poor little thing, and her shimmering eyes silently plead with you
  279. 279.
    >But you don't waver.
  280. 280.
    >You tap your lap.
  281. 281.
     
  282. 282.
    >"Good girl, Sweetie. Right on time. So… have you decided how many spanks you are getting tonight, young lady?"
  283. 283.
     
  284. 284.
    >Sweetie Belle's eyes seem to spill out tears the moment you ask her this question
  285. 285.
    >She waits a second, opening and closing her mouth but sobbing before she can get the words out
  286. 286.
    >You wait patiently… and expectantly.
  287. 287.
     
  288. 288.
    >Finally, Sweetie Belle answers.
  289. 289.
    >"F-F-Fifty…"
  290. 290.
     
  291. 291.
    >Oh.
  292. 292.
    >Wow.
  293. 293.
    >You did not expect that one!
  294. 294.
    >You thought for sure the poor thing would say 30…
  295. 295.
    >But you can't complain.
  296. 296.
    >You had originally planned on lighting up Sweetie's little "Belle Bottom" to an inferno today, after all…
  297. 297.
     
  298. 298.
    >You take the time to compliment her on her choice
  299. 299.
    >"Good girl, Sweetie. I am proud of you for deciding to be a big filly and take extra spankings today. Fifty it is. Now…"
  300. 300.
     
  301. 301.
    >You tap your lap again, making Sweetie wince fearfully
  302. 302.
    >".....come on over here, missy. It's time to give you your spanking."
  303. 303.
     
  304. 304.
    >Eventually, Sweetie Belle does indeed do what she is told
  305. 305.
    >She takes forever to get to you, but when she does, the cute little dear actually clambers up onto the bed with little assistance from you
  306. 306.
    >and with a sob, quaking Sweetie Belle gingerly climbs onto your lap…
  307. 307.
    >and with a little squeak, you push her down and lie the filly right down across your knees
  308. 308.
     
  309. 309.
    >Her tummy, so sore earlier from cookies, now rests comfortably over your knees
  310. 310.
    >Her fore hooves, nervously hiding her face
  311. 311.
    >Her back hooves, stretching out behind her
  312. 312.
    >and most importantly… her little white bubble butt, now centered over your right thigh
  313. 313.
    >Sticking up ever so slightly by her bent over position and the hand you now have place on the middle of her back
  314. 314.
    >forcing her to arch her behind up in the air
  315. 315.
     
  316. 316.
    >Next, you grab her tail and pin it to her back, exposing her butt and baring it fully for her spanking
  317. 317.
    >Sweetie Belle squirms lightly and gives her back hooves a couple of little "hoofy kicks"
  318. 318.
    >You are sure there will be MUCH more kicking in the near future, but the way her little pony legs bend you can see it will be no trouble for you during the punishment
  319. 319.
    >And a miserable whine escapes her…
  320. 320.
     
  321. 321.
    >Everything is perfect, now.
  322. 322.
    >Sweetie Belle is totally pinned down, her snow white bottom is now completely helpless
  323. 323.
    >and this little filly isn't going anywhere until her bottom has paid the price.
  324. 324.
     
  325. 325.
    >Alright. It's time to begin.
  326. 326.
    >You grab your spatula, and rest it on Sweetie's presented butt to aim.
  327. 327.
    >The instant Sweetie feels the cold wood on her exposed behind, she cringes and shuts her eyes tight with a cute little whimper of fear
  328. 328.
    >Aww… you must admit, you felt a little bad, but you also know that she deserves this.
  329. 329.
     
  330. 330.
    >Even just with a couple of little taps to aim, you can faintly see the skin of her slightly chubby little buns ripple
  331. 331.
    >Sweetie squeaks again, and she gives another slight kick of her hoof
  332. 332.
    >It is so fucking adorable, you can't even…
  333. 333.
     
  334. 334.
    >"Okay, Sweetie. No reaching back to block, okay? I am going to start n-"
  335. 335.
     
  336. 336.
    >"W-WAIT! N-nooo Mister Anon, p-please… I'm s-scared… p-please, I'm sorry, n-no spanking, I changed my mind!"
  337. 337.
     
  338. 338.
    >Oh wow.
  339. 339.
    >Now THIS was abrupt.
  340. 340.
    >Sweetie Belle all of a sudden tenses up on your lap, and she starts her hooves a'kickin
  341. 341.
    >And she totally loses her nerve, and before the first spank can even be delivered, you feel her start to squirm
  342. 342.
    >"Pleaaaase Mister Anon, I'm sorry! I was a bad girl, but I'll be good, I promise! N-no spanking, p-please…"
  343. 343.
    >Her butt tries to pull away from you… a futile effort, but suddenly your left arm is having to press down on her body reaaaal tight
  344. 344.
    >You take a second to figure out what to do…and you do it.
  345. 345.
     
  346. 346.
    "SWEETIE BELLE! That is ENOUGH, young filly!"
  347. 347.
    >Your voice raises to a near shout, and almost instantly, the room is silenced.
  348. 348.
    >Sweetie Belle, who was just starting to squirm only seconds before, freezes in place
  349. 349.
    >You can literally feel the fight leave her body as soon as your voice cuts through the air.
  350. 350.
    >You took a gamble… and it paid off.
  351. 351.
     
  352. 352.
    >Sweetie Belle, now silenced, tearfully moans and shivers as she stops her squirming
  353. 353.
    >Stops trying to kick her hooves
  354. 354.
    >and most importantly… stops trying to pull her butt away from your lap.
  355. 355.
    >With a squeak and a low whine, Sweetie Belle plops her hips back down onto your right thigh
  356. 356.
    >and her naughty butt is once again centered, arched up, and ready to be punished.
  357. 357.
    >S-sorry Mister Anon… I'll be g-good, *sob*"
  358. 358.
     
  359. 359.
    >Your heart does melt a little bit, you have to admit.
  360. 360.
    >Sweetie Belle is still a very naughty filly… but she is still aptly named, too.
  361. 361.
    >You nod approvingly.
  362. 362.
    >"Good girl, Sweetie. Now… here it comes."
  363. 363.
     
  364. 364.
    >You raise the spatula.
  365. 365.
    >Sweetie Belle's ears pin down, she cringes, and her quivering bare buns clench
  366. 366.
    >You take a deep breath, and swing the wooden implement down.
  367. 367.
     
  368. 368.
    >THWACK!
  369. 369.
     
  370. 370.
    >The skin ripples, and the spatula flattens her tender tushy
  371. 371.
    >Sweetie Belle takes a moment to register the shock
  372. 372.
    >But when she does….
  373. 373.
     
  374. 374.
    >".....ooooOOOOOWW! OWWW!"
  375. 375.
    >Sweetie Belle's shaky voice rises to a crescendo
  376. 376.
    >Her back arches, as if she is trying to pull herself away from the searing hot spot of pain now blossoming on her bottom
  377. 377.
    >and her butt, bent over your thigh… grows a nice, pink spot on it as it unintentionally sticks up higher
  378. 378.
    >You smirk.
  379. 379.
     
  380. 380.
    >Let's get this spanking started.
  381. 381.
     
  382. 382.
    >"Owww, ow ow ow… *THWACK* YOW! OWW! OW, ow, owww… *THWACK* OWWW NOOO! OW OW OWIEEE oww…. *THWACK* OWOWOWWWW Anon I'm sssSORRYYYY! *THWACK* AAAOOWWW!"
  383. 383.
     
  384. 384.
    >Oh my goodness
  385. 385.
    >only the first five spanks… and Sweetie Belle is simply carrying *on*!
  386. 386.
    >Her butt bounces over your knee, wriggling under your holding hand, but it has nowhere to go
  387. 387.
    >your spatula smacks viciously down onto her presented buttocks, leaving light pink marks that you can practically see the steam come off of!
  388. 388.
     
  389. 389.
    >Sweetie Belle's howling mixes more and more with shuddering sobs of anguish
  390. 390.
    >but you don't show her naughty behind any mercy.
  391. 391.
    >Once smack 15 passes by, it occurs to you that you have just spanked Sweetie Belle the hardest she had EVER been spanked before…
  392. 392.
     
  393. 393.
    >And she still has THIRTY FIVE spanks to go.
  394. 394.
     
  395. 395.
    >"...buuuhuuuuhaaaoowww *THWACK* NyyyOOWWW! *THWACK* AH, nnoooo owwww *THWACK* OWWW SORRYSORRYSORRYYYY!!! *THWACK* AAHhhooowwww! *THWACK* OWWWW begood I'llbegoo---*THWACK* AHHH OWW I'LLB'GOO*THWACK*OOoowww!"
  396. 396.
     
  397. 397.
    >Sweetie Belle's bubble butt shakes and squirms, and wriggles all around
  398. 398.
    >in circles… up and down… side to side, figure 8s…
  399. 399.
    >Her tail dock twitches, her back hoofies kick kick KICK adorably and hopelessly
  400. 400.
    >But you have her pinned down right where you want her.
  401. 401.
    >As smack after steaming smack continues to paint her tushy red
  402. 402.
    >Sweetie Belle howls and begs, sobs and shrieks… but each hollered out plea for mercy or promise to be good is punctuated by yet another hard THWACK!
  403. 403.
     
  404. 404.
    >"PLEAAAAASE Mister, M-Mister Anoooon! *THWACK* YOOOWWW I'M SORRYYY! *THWACK* IT HUUUUUuuuuuurts!"
  405. 405.
     
  406. 406.
    >You shake your head at this new declaration, rolling your eyes
  407. 407.
    >you deliver another THWACK, drawing yet more sorry squeals from the naughty filly struggling over your lap
  408. 408.
    >"Well I sure hope so, young lady! I intend to make this a spanking you will never forget!"
  409. 409.
     
  410. 410.
    >Her butt continues to bounce and wobble on your thigh and you continue to toast her bare buns
  411. 411.
    >it is so cute how no matter how much she kicks her back hoofies with sheer desperation
  412. 412.
    >the way her horsie legs bend makes it impossible for her to really get any leverage against you
  413. 413.
    >they drum and drum her mattress, scissor kick, even swim kick… but her exposed and properly positioned butt remains in place, arched up and ready for more punishment.
  414. 414.
    >"*THWACK* STOOOOP NOMOREEEEE! *THWACK* NOO CAN'T TAKE IIIITTT! *THWACK* AHHHHHAHAOOOWWW!!"
  415. 415.
     
  416. 416.
    >You are now on spank #44.
  417. 417.
    >Sweetie Belle's struggling continues, but she is increasingly breathless
  418. 418.
    >the poor thing is simply sweating now with such exertion, too…
  419. 419.
    >crying your eyes out and shaking your bubble butt under smacks of the spatula is quite the workout for a little filly!
  420. 420.
    >Sweetie's also devolved into what you call the "spanking babble" stage of the punishment
  421. 421.
    >where English is too much to mentally process… so gasping, breathless gibberish is what comes out instead
  422. 422.
     
  423. 423.
    >Only a little more to go, Sweetie Belle...
  424. 424.
     
  425. 425.
    >”*THWACK, THWACK, THWACK!*”
  426. 426.
     
  427. 427.
    >”NOOOOO OWWW!!!! AAAAHOOOWW!!!”
  428. 428.
     
  429. 429.
    >Sweetie wails when you deliver three sharp, stinging smacks to her sit spots, left right and middle, in rapid succession
  430. 430.
    >She violently shakes her behind side to side after the brief onslaught
  431. 431.
    >but you pin her down harder and watch with a smirk as she bounces her bottom desperately, hips wriggling, shaking…
  432. 432.
     
  433. 433.
    >Ooo, that one was good.
  434. 434.
    >That seemed to get quite the reaction out of your naughty little filly!
  435. 435.
    >Hmm…
  436. 436.
     
  437. 437.
    >you rest the spatula on the middle of her rump one more time… 3 more to go.
  438. 438.
    >And you know just how you’re gonna give them to her, now!
  439. 439.
    >Sweetie whines and whimpers pathetically
  440. 440.
    >but you won’t let that dissuade you from the finale
  441. 441.
     
  442. 442.
    >you tap the little filly’s cheeks two more times, relishing the moment for a second, and then you raise your hand all the way up…
  443. 443.
    >then, you swing the spatula down as hard as you can
  444. 444.
    >delivering one, two, then three THWACKS in rapid sequence on the same spot on the center of her plump butt
  445. 445.
     
  446. 446.
    >the reaction from the filly on your lap is *fierce*
  447. 447.
    >howls, wails, and bawled out gibberish
  448. 448.
    >sobbing, desperately struggling, bottom wiggling, and hoofy kicking
  449. 449.
    >she whines and whimpers, and looks over her shoulder
  450. 450.
    >teary eyed, she begs and sobs
  451. 451.
     
  452. 452.
    >”ANOOON! Pleeeaaaase, no more spanking, pleaaaase, waahuhhhuhuhhhh… how many mo-ho-hoooore!? WAAHHH!”
  453. 453.
     
  454. 454.
    >More adorable little hoofy kicks, and her tears spill onto the blanket next to your lap
  455. 455.
    >She’s sobbing so hard now…
  456. 456.
    >But she’s all done with her spanks for tonight!
  457. 457.
    >Lucky filly…
  458. 458.
     
  459. 459.
    >But only… it occurs to you.
  460. 460.
    >she’s all done…
  461. 461.
    >but she just asked you how many more she has.
  462. 462.
    >Which means… she doesn’t know. She hasn’t been counting.
  463. 463.
    >And that means…
  464. 464.
     
  465. 465.
    >You smile inwardly, and look down at the cute little spanked tushy of the wriggling little filly on your knees
  466. 466.
    >MY goodness, it is redder than a beet!
  467. 467.
    >so hot and red, and well punished…
  468. 468.
    >but…
  469. 469.
     
  470. 470.
    >you can’t pass this opportunity up.
  471. 471.
    >And besides, looking at Sweetie’s red, round, and rippling cheeks… you are certain that this filly’s bubble butt can take MUCH more spanking yet
  472. 472.
    >heck, you could probably spank this little filly 200 MORE times and still not bruise her behind…
  473. 473.
     
  474. 474.
    >But no. Can’t blow it too early.
  475. 475.
    >So, you settle on a number that won’t raise suspicion…
  476. 476.
     
  477. 477.
    >“Five more, missy.”
  478. 478.
     
  479. 479.
    >Sweetie hears this, and the anguished moan that leaves her makes your heart jump
  480. 480.
    >She heaves, and two huge tears fall from her eyes and stain the blanket
  481. 481.
    >But her bottom, already so red and so sore… as the seconds pass it eventually stops wiggling
  482. 482.
    >And with a hard sob, her butt rests back in its bent over, arched up position
  483. 483.
    >ready for more of the spatula…
  484. 484.
     
  485. 485.
    >You pat her behind lightly with it
  486. 486.
    >Sweetie cringes and her hooves tighten up, grabbing your leg even harder
  487. 487.
    >But her rump actually doesn’t wiggle this time… it simply stays still
  488. 488.
    >beet red bare buns facing up, waiting to be toasted, five…
  489. 489.
     
  490. 490.
    >*THWACK*
  491. 491.
    >”OWWWW”
  492. 492.
    >more…
  493. 493.
    >*THWACK*
  494. 494.
    >”AAAOOOWW!!”
  495. 495.
    >times!
  496. 496.
    >*THWACK, THWACK, THHHWACKKKK!*
  497. 497.
    >AAAAAHAAOWWWWW, OW OW OWWW bwuhhhuhhuhhhh…”
  498. 498.
     
  499. 499.
    >something you’ve just learned about spanking this sweet little filly’s naughty behind…
  500. 500.
    >It’s NEVER enough.
  501. 501.
    >you already gave yourself five more spanks than agreed, without her knowledge…
  502. 502.
    >But your right hand still twitches eagerly
  503. 503.
    >hell, you still probably have enough juice in your hand for another 1000 spanks!
  504. 504.
     
  505. 505.
    >But no. You couldn’t keep going now
  506. 506.
    >Sweetie would know
  507. 507.
    >and Sweetie wouldn’t be so willing to agree to your terms after that…
  508. 508.
    >Besides, you have to admit…
  509. 509.
    >the idea of Sweetie having to pick the rest of her spankings the rest of this week only seems so delightfully cruel if it actually has SOME weight to it…
  510. 510.
     
  511. 511.
    >So… reluctantly, you drop the spatula down and release the filly’s back from your lap.
  512. 512.
     
  513. 513.
    “Ok, Sweetie Belle, we’re all done.”
  514. 514.
     
  515. 515.
    >The reaction of the little filly is almost immediate
  516. 516.
    >right away, with a whoop and a holler, the naughty filly rolls off your lap and reaches back
  517. 517.
    >still sobbing all the way, she grabs her red spanked bumcheeks
  518. 518.
    >And rubs, rubs, rubs…
  519. 519.
     
  520. 520.
    >you watch with barely hidden amusement at the filly’s antics
  521. 521.
    >Sweetie rolls side to side, massaging her butt furiously
  522. 522.
    >But eventually, after a minute passes, she rests with her face down and butt facing straight up in the air, hooves rubbing up and down
  523. 523.
    >pressing into her red spanked skin, so it briefly turns white like she’s pressing on sunburn…
  524. 524.
     
  525. 525.
    >”Owwwww…”
  526. 526.
    >She moans painfully
  527. 527.
    >cute hoofies drum on the carpet
  528. 528.
    >her spanked cherry red buttocks jiggle slightly with each stamp of her hooves
  529. 529.
    >you shake your head, sighing
  530. 530.
     
  531. 531.
    >”Ok Sweetie Belle. That’s all your spankings for tonight. You still have four more days to get the rest of your spanks done… and how many spanks do you have left, missy?”
  532. 532.
     
  533. 533.
    >You ask her the math question in the midst of her rubbing and “oww”ing and hoofy kicking…
  534. 534.
    >Sweetie Belle barely even registers the question at first
  535. 535.
    >But you let it linger in the air
  536. 536.
    >But eventually, you see Sweetie Bell’s little face look back at you
  537. 537.
    >Eyes red, bloodshot, and her white (face) cheeks stained red with tears
  538. 538.
    >She stammers out the answer
  539. 539.
     
  540. 540.
    >”One h-hundred n’ fff…fifty.”
  541. 541.
    >She blanches so hard at the remainder that her cheeks almost turn white through all the tearstains
  542. 542.
    >You nod your head solemnly, and your right hand fingers the handle of the spatula beside you
  543. 543.
    >like it has a mind of its own…
  544. 544.
     
  545. 545.
    >”Good girl, Sweetie Belle. Yes, you have 150 spanks left. And remember, whatever spanks you don’t get done tomorrow, Thursday, and Friday? You get all the rest on Saturday. All at once.”
  546. 546.
     
  547. 547.
    >It only now just REALLY occurs to you as you do your own math…
  548. 548.
    >That meant that Sweetie really only had three days left to choose
  549. 549.
    >And even after doing 50 spankings tonight… well, 55, but who’s counting
  550. 550.
    >That meant even if she took 30 spankings every single day… she still has SIXTY left on Saturday.
  551. 551.
    >And looking at how puuuunished this filly’s behind looks?
  552. 552.
    >Oh man… you highly doubt she’ll be eager to even just do 30 every day…
  553. 553.
     
  554. 554.
    >Sweetie’s eyes dribble out more tears
  555. 555.
    >She nods obediently, and looks away from you
  556. 556.
    >The filly plops onto her side, her hooves still grasping at her bumcheeks
  557. 557.
    >And she looks away fearfully
  558. 558.
     
  559. 559.
    >”Y-Yes, Anon…”
  560. 560.
     
  561. 561.
    >Aww. She really is a cutie pie…
  562. 562.
    >You know what? Why not.
  563. 563.
    >you decide to throw this filly a little bit of a bone.
  564. 564.
    >after all, you have been pretty mean to her…
  565. 565.
    >Sweetie deserves some cuddles
  566. 566.
     
  567. 567.
    >You reach out your hand
  568. 568.
    >beckon to her while she lies on the bedroom floor
  569. 569.
    >”C’mere Sweetie. You look like you need a hug. C’mon… theeere’s a good girl.”
  570. 570.
     
  571. 571.
    >Sweetie takes a second to realize your gesture
  572. 572.
    >But she sniffles and slowly creeps toward you through tears
  573. 573.
    >You continue to beckon her over
  574. 574.
    >And eventually… Sweetie Belle listens, and gets close enough for you to reach
  575. 575.
     
  576. 576.
    >Gently, you reach underneath her, and pick her right up
  577. 577.
    >But this time, instead of laying her face down on your lap, you lay her the opposite way
  578. 578.
    >Tummy up, back on your thighs
  579. 579.
    >And her adorable little hooves and face bunched up against your chest
  580. 580.
     
  581. 581.
    >She whines into your chest, and then gives you the sweetest hug back with her stubby little fore legs…
  582. 582.
    >”I’m s-sorry, Anon…”
  583. 583.
     
  584. 584.
    >Awwww.
  585. 585.
    >You give her a nice warm hug back, and nuzzle her cute little head
  586. 586.
    >and then your right hand reaches down and around to cup her behind, holding her like a baby
  587. 587.
    >She winces with the contact to her sore butt, but she does eventually relax
  588. 588.
     
  589. 589.
    >”I know, Sweetie. Good girl.”
  590. 590.
     
  591. 591.
    >Pretty soon, Sweetie Belle falls asleep in your snuggling arms
  592. 592.
    >You lay her down in her own bed, and then close her bedroom door shut with her gently snoring
  593. 593.
    >My goodness, a spanking really is quite the workout for a naughty filly…
  594. 594.
     
  595. 595.
    >and she has pleeenty of exercise to go this week.
  596. 596.
     
  597. 597.
    >The next day goes pretty normal, relatively speaking
  598. 598.
    >well... normal for you, at least...
  599. 599.
    >For a filly with a red spanked behind that is still glowing like a lightbulb? Maybe not so normal after all...
  600. 600.
     
  601. 601.
    >Sweetie is her usual sweet self
  602. 602.
    >but when her friends come over to ask if she can play...
  603. 603.
     
  604. 604.
    >You can tell Sweetie is super embarassed
  605. 605.
    >you watch through a slit in the blinds as they talk, and you can hear their voices well
  606. 606.
    >Apple Bloom, the yellow one, is the first to make a remark when Sweetie steps outside
  607. 607.
     
  608. 608.
    >"Yow! That looks like it *hurts*!"
  609. 609.
    >Scootaloo, the orange filly, is next to step around Sweetie Belle, who's now blushing on both ends
  610. 610.
    >she gives a low whistle
  611. 611.
     
  612. 612.
    >"Phew... yeah, Sweetie. That looks like Anon spanked you REAL hard..."
  613. 613.
     
  614. 614.
    >"Y-Yeah... Anon spanks real hard....."
  615. 615.
    >Sweetie Belle tucks her tail between her legs
  616. 616.
    >Apple Bloom grimaces, pointing at her friends well-roasted behind with her hoof
  617. 617.
     
  618. 618.
    >"Yikes, it sure looks like it... I ain't gotten whooped that bad since I cheated on my quiz in Miss Cheerilee's class and lied about it..."
  619. 619.
     
  620. 620.
    >Sweetie Belle sniffs, wiping her eyes
  621. 621.
    >"Y-Yeah, I remember that... Anon spanks a lot worse than my Mom and Dad, too. I stole and lied to him yesterday, s-so he spanked me with the spatula..."
  622. 622.
     
  623. 623.
    >"Oh no! The spatula sounds horrible! So then he doesn't just use his hoof... umm, hand to spank like your parents?"
  624. 624.
    >Scootaloo asks
  625. 625.
    >Sweetie Belle shakes her head
  626. 626.
    "No... and he spanks a whole bunch more times too."
  627. 627.
     
  628. 628.
    >Apple Bloom pipes in now
  629. 629.
    >she shakes her head
  630. 630.
    "Y-yeah, it sure looks like it... don't your parents only spank like two times for every year old y'are? I know that's a lot less than what it looks like Anon did... or what Applejack does t'me..."
  631. 631.
     
  632. 632.
    >"Or what Rainbow Dash does to me!"
  633. 633.
     
  634. 634.
    >Sweetie blushes again, and turns her behind around to face away from her two nosy friends
  635. 635.
    >but in the process, she ends up showing her behind directly to you, watching from the window
  636. 636.
    >and you get to gaze upon your handiwork as Sweetie squeaks in indignation
  637. 637.
     
  638. 638.
    "Guuuys, stop looking at my flanks! I know he spanks a lot worse than my parents, and that so do Applejack and Rainbow... it still hurts plenty when they spank too, okay?"
  639. 639.
     
  640. 640.
    >Sweetie Belle looks down at the ground in shame
  641. 641.
    >you watch her friend's facial expressions change to ones of pure sympathy
  642. 642.
    >they stop chatting, and instead give their friend a much needed hug
  643. 643.
     
  644. 644.
    >"Aw, sorry Sweetie... I ain't meant to make you feel bad. Sorry..."
  645. 645.
    >"Yeah, sorry... I guess we just got a little jealous..."
  646. 646.
     
  647. 647.
    >Sweetie Belle sniffles and wipes her nose
  648. 648.
    >She nods her head, snuggled against her friends
  649. 649.
    >who thankfully still keep Sweetie's backside uncovered for your viewing pleasure
  650. 650.
     
  651. 651.
    >"I-It's okay... I get it. You guys always got spanked worse than me..."
  652. 652.
     
  653. 653.
    >"It's alright Sweetie Belle. It ain't your fault. But just remind us never to get on Anon's bad side... he seems real strict."
  654. 654.
     
  655. 655.
    >"Yeah, if I ever get him as a foalsitter I'll have to be on my best behavior for sure!"
  656. 656.
     
  657. 657.
    >you grin
  658. 658.
    >hearing the fillies be so intimidated by Sweetie's behind... feels good man
  659. 659.
     
  660. 660.
    >the trio eventually leave the premises
  661. 661.
    >and on their way out, they all face away from you...
  662. 662.
    >and you get a few uninterrupted seconds of getting to compare filly behinds, side by side.
  663. 663.
     
  664. 664.
    >But even though the idea of showing your "bad side" to Apple Bloom or Scootaloo is very enticing...
  665. 665.
    >you have to admit
  666. 666.
    >only one of them has the bubbliest tush of all
  667. 667.
     
  668. 668.
    >and it's one you get to spank a whole lot more real soon...
  669. 669.
     
  670. 670.
    >only you didn’t realize just HOW soon.
  671. 671.
     
  672. 672.
    >You watch as the sun goes down…
  673. 673.
    >and down…
  674. 674.
    >And down…
  675. 675.
    >and when you check the clock…
  676. 676.
     
  677. 677.
    >No way.
  678. 678.
    >No. WAY.
  679. 679.
    >You set a curfew for Sweetie Belle to be back by dinnertime, 6 pm sharp
  680. 680.
    >And lookie here… it’s 7 o’clock by the time you see the trio of fillies running back toward Sweetie’s parent’s house
  681. 681.
     
  682. 682.
    >You have to admit for a second… you did also genuinely worry for Sweetie Belle for a minute there
  683. 683.
    >But when you see her and her little friends galloping up the grass toward the house, you smile wide for just a second
  684. 684.
    >But you quickly hide that, and instead
  685. 685.
    >you adopt your “strict face”
  686. 686.
     
  687. 687.
    >You open the door just before the trio of naughty fillies can knock
  688. 688.
    >They all leave scars in the grass as they skid to a halt
  689. 689.
    >they’ve clearly been running a long time now
  690. 690.
    >sweaty, and breathing hard
  691. 691.
    >And Sweetie right in the middle, her face downcast
  692. 692.
     
  693. 693.
    >”I… *gasp* I’m s-sorry, Mister Anon, *gasp* I, w-we lost track of t-time”
  694. 694.
     
  695. 695.
    “You’re late, Sweetie. Very late.”
  696. 696.
     
  697. 697.
    >You speak, cutting Sweetie off
  698. 698.
    >your sternest tone you can muster
  699. 699.
    >trying not to betray the excitement in your voice…
  700. 700.
     
  701. 701.
    >Sweetie Belle cringes, and shrinks backward
  702. 702.
    >Her tail tucks between her legs…
  703. 703.
    >as if her tail already knows what’s coming next.
  704. 704.
     
  705. 705.
    >Sweetie already had 150 spanks to go
  706. 706.
    >But now, by some stroke of luck, you’re gonna be able to put your theory to the test
  707. 707.
    >Your theory about the durability of Sweetie’s little tush!
  708. 708.
     
  709. 709.
    >”60 minutes late, to be exact. And do you know what happens to fillies who disobey and come home late?”
  710. 710.
     
  711. 711.
    >You watch Apple Bloom and Scootaloo give each other knowing glances
  712. 712.
    >But Sweetie isn’t looking up
  713. 713.
    >Instead, she breathes hard and nods her head slowly, forlornly
  714. 714.
     
  715. 715.
    >”Th-they g-get… s-spanked.”
  716. 716.
     
  717. 717.
    >”N-NO!”
  718. 718.
     
  719. 719.
    >All of a sudden, Apple Bloom jumps forward
  720. 720.
    >You almost reel back in surprise when the yellow filly steps partway through the gap between you, and Sweetie Belle
  721. 721.
    >A pair of teary, biiig eyes gaze up at you pleadingly
  722. 722.
    >Very sweet, sensitive eyes…
  723. 723.
     
  724. 724.
    >”No, please don’t Mister Anon! I-It wasn’t her fault!”
  725. 725.
     
  726. 726.
    >”Yeah, it wasn’t!”
  727. 727.
     
  728. 728.
    >Scootaloo steps up next, piping up for her friend
  729. 729.
    >Also gets between you and Sweetie
  730. 730.
    >Her eyes are less teary… but her face is definitely just as forlorn
  731. 731.
    >You look down at both of them with a shocked facial expression
  732. 732.
    >”It wasn’t Sweetie’s fault. We all went rafting, and it was mine and Apple Bloom’s idea and Sweetie didn’t want to come because she was afraid she wouldn’t be back in time… b-but… we got lost, a-and…”
  733. 733.
     
  734. 734.
    “And that’s why she’s late! It’s all because of me an’ Scootaloo! Please, please don’t spank her!”
  735. 735.
     
  736. 736.
    >Aww, man…
  737. 737.
    >The pair of big, expressive eyes look through your soul as Apple Bloom speaks
  738. 738.
    >You even find yourself pausing for a second…
  739. 739.
     
  740. 740.
    >Wow, this filly is cute.
  741. 741.
    >positively adorable
  742. 742.
    >How could you possibly resist that sweet little face…?
  743. 743.
     
  744. 744.
    >”Yeah, please don’t! It wasn’t her fault! You should…”
  745. 745.
    >Scootaloo looks down at the ground, cringes, and kicks her hoof in the grass
  746. 746.
    >she pauses for a little while… then she looks up
  747. 747.
    >over to Apple Bloom
  748. 748.
    >The other filly makes eye contact
  749. 749.
    >And they both seem to share the same thought, at the same time…
  750. 750.
     
  751. 751.
    >Then, Apple Bloom finishes the thought
  752. 752.
    >with a whimper, and a bow of her head
  753. 753.
     
  754. 754.
    >”You oughta give us a spankin’ instead o’her.”
  755. 755.
     
  756. 756.
    >Your heart practically stops.
  757. 757.
    >Your hair on your arms prickles
  758. 758.
    >you take a second to process
  759. 759.
    >And when you do…
  760. 760.
     
  761. 761.
    >Apple Bloom looks back up at you
  762. 762.
    >Big teary eyes, expressive, selfless eyes…
  763. 763.
     
  764. 764.
    >You barely manage not to smile
  765. 765.
    >but inside, you are giddy with glee
  766. 766.
    >the luck fairies are clearly blessing you with a lifetime of good luck this week…
  767. 767.
     
  768. 768.
    >And how… how could you possibly resist that sweet little face?
  769. 769.
     
  770. 770.
    >you stare down at the trio of fillies with your “stern face” while you let their words sit in the air
  771. 771.
    >But inside your brain, you’re giddy
  772. 772.
     
  773. 773.
    >The fact that Apple Bloom AND Scootaloo just actually suggested this possibility to you…
  774. 774.
    >It means that this is something that must be normalized around here.
  775. 775.
    >You knew the country bumpkins around here took spanking very seriously, and you’ve seen your share of reddened rumps around here
  776. 776.
    >met only with nods of approval
  777. 777.
    >But hearing THIS makes you practically jump with excitement
  778. 778.
     
  779. 779.
    >Inside your brain, the gears are turning
  780. 780.
    >The three little ponies looks miserable and forlorn while you scheme…
  781. 781.
     
  782. 782.
    >But eventually, you come up with an idea
  783. 783.
    >a terrible, horrible, no good very bad idea
  784. 784.
    >that is WONDERFUL
  785. 785.
     
  786. 786.
    >You shake your head down at the three girls as they cringe and wait in silence…
  787. 787.
    >Waiting for your verdict
  788. 788.
     
  789. 789.
    >”Hmmmm, I see… well, you are very brave for admitting this to me, young fillies. I appreciate your honesty.”
  790. 790.
     
  791. 791.
    >Apple Bloom very quickly nods her head once she hears the word “honesty”
  792. 792.
    >She nods it very insistently, eyes getting wide
  793. 793.
    >Her gaze back up at you is so. Fucking. Cute.
  794. 794.
     
  795. 795.
    >”Oh, oh yes Anon! My big sister Applejack always tells me, honesty is the best policy and the truth will set you free!”
  796. 796.
     
  797. 797.
    >Oh man.
  798. 798.
    >What an absolute sweetheart.
  799. 799.
    >Hell, you almost feel bad now about what you’re going to do…
  800. 800.
     
  801. 801.
    >You nod sagely
  802. 802.
    >”Oh yes, young lady. That is very true… but unfortunately, you still have consequences you need to face for making poor little Sweetie Belle late. You, and Scootaloo both.”
  803. 803.
     
  804. 804.
    >You wait to see their reactions
  805. 805.
    >Scootaloo gulps, and her tail, adorably, tucks between her legs
  806. 806.
    >She looks away from you, trying to make herself small…
  807. 807.
    >But Apple Bloom on the other hand… hoof…
  808. 808.
    >The little yellow filly simply node sagely back
  809. 809.
    >sniffles, and wipes her nose
  810. 810.
    >But she swallows hard and looks back up at you, making piercing eye contact with her teary, big pupils
  811. 811.
     
  812. 812.
    >”Y-Yes, Mister Anon. I know… I-I deserve it…”
  813. 813.
     
  814. 814.
    >”NOO!”
  815. 815.
     
  816. 816.
    >Oh man, Sweetie Belle comes out of nowhere!
  817. 817.
    >She jumps in between you, and her friends
  818. 818.
    >Her biiiig eyes now staring up at you pleadingly
  819. 819.
    >She shakes her head, holding her hoof up
  820. 820.
     
  821. 821.
    >”N-No Anon, p-please… don’t spank my friends! I don’t want my friends to get s-spanked because of me…”
  822. 822.
     
  823. 823.
    >Sweetie is crying already…
  824. 824.
    >Such a sensitive little filly
  825. 825.
    >Her friends immediately pipe in though
  826. 826.
    >This time, it’s Scootaloo who holds her hoof up
  827. 827.
    >Not at you, but at Sweetie Belle
  828. 828.
     
  829. 829.
    >”No, Sweetie! We made you do it… it was our fault, not yours.”
  830. 830.
     
  831. 831.
    >”Yeah! We are the ones who pressured you into rafting and got lost… we should’ve listened.”
  832. 832.
     
  833. 833.
    >You smile.
  834. 834.
    >Nodding your head, you address all three fillies with an air of authority around you
  835. 835.
    >”Yes, Sweetie. Your friends are right. It *was* their fault, not yours… but still. You shouldn’t have given into peer pressure.”
  836. 836.
     
  837. 837.
    >Sweetie Belle is still crying
  838. 838.
    >But she nods her head obediently
  839. 839.
    >While her two friends look up at you… with what you can only describe as determination in their eyes
  840. 840.
     
  841. 841.
    >Especially Apple Bloom…
  842. 842.
    >She shakes her head, and her hooves quiver
  843. 843.
     
  844. 844.
    >”N-No, please Mister Anon… I’ll take it. Whatever spankin’ you were gonna give her, I’ll take it!”
  845. 845.
     
  846. 846.
    >”Yeah, m-me too! It’s not fair that Sweetie should be punished for what we did…”
  847. 847.
     
  848. 848.
    >You now have a bit of a conundrum on your hands…
  849. 849.
    >One filly… with the most outrageously spankable behind you can possibly imagine, offering HER butt up for a spanking
  850. 850.
    >And two fillies, with also VERY spankable behinds, both offering THEIR butts in sacrifice in her place…
  851. 851.
    >And one Anon, who’s a right greedy little bastard!
  852. 852.
     
  853. 853.
    >You spin the web of schemes in your head
  854. 854.
    >until eventually, you come up with a verdict
  855. 855.
    >one that none of them is going to like…
  856. 856.
     
  857. 857.
    >”You all bring up valid points… very well. Here is what we shall do.”
  858. 858.
     
  859. 859.
    >You step forward
  860. 860.
    >right away, the fillies cringe and pull away on instinct
  861. 861.
    >well… except for Apple Bloom
  862. 862.
    >Who actually bravely stands before you, tears and fear in her eyes
  863. 863.
    >But hooves rooted in place
  864. 864.
    >you regard her for a moment, taking a second to appreciate this filly’s bravery, before you continue
  865. 865.
     
  866. 866.
    >”Sweetie Belle has still been very naughty today… I only just spanked her, yet here she is. Giving into peer pressure. And so, she clearly needs another good spanking to teach her how to behave. BUT…”
  867. 867.
     
  868. 868.
    >you see Apple Bloom open her mouth like she’s about to protest, but you cut it off right away
  869. 869.
    >Raising your voice
  870. 870.
    >Bloomy wilts, and her ears flop down nervously
  871. 871.
    >And meanwhile, Sweetie Belle’s head raises and she looks at you with a look of pure terror in her eyes…
  872. 872.
     
  873. 873.
    >Hnng.
  874. 874.
     
  875. 875.
    >”I WAS gonna give her a very looong spanking for being so naughty… but I’m willing to shorten her sentence by quite a bit, if you two choose to take some of her spanking instead.”
  876. 876.
     
  877. 877.
    >You proclaim the sentence with confidence
  878. 878.
    >And authority
  879. 879.
    >And barely contained excitement…
  880. 880.
     
  881. 881.
    >The three fillies all look at each other, side eyed
  882. 882.
    >Big eyed
  883. 883.
    >but as the seconds tick by… you can see their slow realization of their fate
  884. 884.
    >You take it that your confident, strict tone worked very well…
  885. 885.
    >Because Apple Bloom, seemingly the defacto leader of the group, eventually looks up at you, and nods her head
  886. 886.
    >a mixture of assuredly… but also with lots of fear in her eyes
  887. 887.
     
  888. 888.
    >”O… Ok, Mister Anon.”
  889. 889.
     
  890. 890.
    >That’s it. They took the bait.
  891. 891.
    >Fell into the trap you laid out…
  892. 892.
    >You give just a faint little smile… one that they could think was just a glimmer of pride
  893. 893.
    >Perhaps it is… but pride in your own idea more than anything.
  894. 894.
     
  895. 895.
    >”Good. Now… come on in. It’s time to get your spankings done.”
  896. 896.
     
  897. 897.
    >You’ve decided the living room is the best place to get this done
  898. 898.
    >It has three open corners… all visible from the big couch in the fourth corner
  899. 899.
    >Affording you a view of each filly, viewable all at once…
  900. 900.
     
  901. 901.
    >And that’s exactly what you do.
  902. 902.
    >You order each filly to stand in the three corners
  903. 903.
    >Scootaloo on the right, Apple Bloom on the left… and Sweetie, front and center
  904. 904.
    >Have to make the best one the centerpiece, after all!
  905. 905.
     
  906. 906.
    >”Ok girls, you stand there with your noses in the corner. I will be right back. Don’t you move a muscle or say a word, got it?”
  907. 907.
     
  908. 908.
    >You watch as all 3 fillies nod their heads in their corners, silently
  909. 909.
    >and their tails swish nervously, giving glimpses of their rear ends
  910. 910.
    >unf…
  911. 911.
     
  912. 912.
    >You leave the room, making a beeline for the kitchen
  913. 913.
    >You already know exactly what you’re looking for…
  914. 914.
     
  915. 915.
    >and there it is: the spatula.
  916. 916.
    >The same rump warming spatula you just used last night on Sweetie’s tush, to GREAT effect
  917. 917.
    >And now, the gods smile down upon you, and you get to test it out on two MORE filly behinds
  918. 918.
     
  919. 919.
    >when you walk back into the room, and sit down on the couch, you observe the trio of miscreants
  920. 920.
    >All of them, noses planted firmly in the corner
  921. 921.
    >butts facing out into the room
  922. 922.
    >And tails flagging unconsciously as they swish back and forth with fear and nervousness
  923. 923.
     
  924. 924.
    >To be frank, you could stare for a long while at the three filly rumps in each corner
  925. 925.
    >But every time you look at the one in the middle…
  926. 926.
    >that delightful shade of red showing on both white, round cheeks
  927. 927.
    >You now have only one goal in mind
  928. 928.
     
  929. 929.
    >to make all three pairs of cheeks match that lovely shade of crimson!
  930. 930.
     
  931. 931.
    >You pan right…
  932. 932.
    >you’ll start with the pegasus filly
  933. 933.
    >tapping your thigh with the spatula, you call out her name
  934. 934.
    >sternly
  935. 935.
     
  936. 936.
    >”Scootaloo. Come here, young filly. You’re first.”
  937. 937.
     
  938. 938.
    >The little orange miscreant gasps when she hears her name being called
  939. 939.
    >You see her do a little jump… and a teeny flutter of her wings
  940. 940.
    >right away, you make note of those wings…
  941. 941.
    >you’ll need to possibly hold her down extra hard if she gets those wings a-flapping!
  942. 942.
     
  943. 943.
    >But eventually, Scootaloo obeys
  944. 944.
    >she slinks out of her corner, tail tucked between her legs, head low
  945. 945.
    >eyes downcast
  946. 946.
    >she slowly plods over to you, dragging her hooves
  947. 947.
     
  948. 948.
    >meanwhile. Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle’s buttcheeks both clench with your proclamation
  949. 949.
    >And both shuffle their hooves nervously
  950. 950.
    >You smile inwardly, but keep up your stern façade with Scootaloo as she slowly makes it over to you on the couch
  951. 951.
     
  952. 952.
    >”Come on, Scootaloo. Over my knees. Theeere you go…”
  953. 953.
     
  954. 954.
    >Scootaloo quivers gently as she climbs over your knees
  955. 955.
    >resting her tummy on your lap
  956. 956.
    >extending her legs behind her, on the couch
  957. 957.
    >resting her head on the other side of your lap… bunching her cute little hooves under her head and grasping the couch
  958. 958.
    >and most importantly… bending her firm, bare orange behind over your right thigh
  959. 959.
    >the angle sharp enough to stick her butt up into the air slightly, at an angle
  960. 960.
    >exposing both her soon-to-be toasted buns for your… consideration
  961. 961.
     
  962. 962.
    >Aww.
  963. 963.
    >Despite her fear, you can certainly tell
  964. 964.
    >this filly sure did know what a spanking was
  965. 965.
    >and she sure did have plenty of experience taking one, too!
  966. 966.
     
  967. 967.
    >You take a moment to relish the sight of the new bottom obediently perched on your lap
  968. 968.
    >then, you place your hand on her back, pushing her down
  969. 969.
    >but not before you grab ahold of her tail, pulling it up and out of the way with a little sharp tug just above her dock
  970. 970.
    >You press the tail down in between her wings
  971. 971.
     
  972. 972.
    >And there it is; her filly bottom, fully bared and helpless
  973. 973.
    >Sticking up in the air, bent over
  974. 974.
    >pinned into place, framed for punishment
  975. 975.
     
  976. 976.
    >Scootaloo whimpers slightly, then kicks her back hoof reflexively
  977. 977.
    >you smile and sigh sympathetically… poor helpless filly
  978. 978.
    >those cute little back legs don’t bend back up at the knee like a human’s
  979. 979.
    >So they can kick, kick, hoofy kick aaaaall they want
  980. 980.
    >But their back hooves aren’t going to get in between your spatula, and her naughty, orange, and soon to be very red butt!
  981. 981.
     
  982. 982.
    >You swear, these little ponies were practically DESIGNED to be spanked…
  983. 983.
     
  984. 984.
    >You tap the spatula audibly on Scootaloo’s bottom
  985. 985.
    >tap, tap, tapping to aim…
  986. 986.
    >Scooty does a little butt wiggle, and another reflexive hoofy kick
  987. 987.
    >But you press down hard, and it moves her hips back in place
  988. 988.
    >bent over, butt arched up… ready to be paddled.
  989. 989.
     
  990. 990.
    >”Ok Scootaloo. Here comes…”
  991. 991.
     
  992. 992.
    >you lift the spatula up high
  993. 993.
    >And just like usual… there’s the clench of the filly cheeks
  994. 994.
    >bracing themselves for the oncoming onslaught
  995. 995.
    >You wait for them to relax, then…
  996. 996.
     
  997. 997.
    >ThhhWAP!
  998. 998.
     
  999. 999.
    >the first spank is delivered to her soon to be very, very sorry rear end
  1000. 1000.
    >Scootaloo’s butt does indeed jiggle upon the smack
  1001. 1001.
    >but just as you suspected, Scooty’s smaller, but still very cute and round little flanks are more firm and well-toned than your darling Sweetie’s bigger, bubblier cheeks
  1002. 1002.
     
  1003. 1003.
    >that doesn’t stop the filly from jolting over your lap with the hard smack
  1004. 1004.
    >Both hind legs kick out, hooves splaying wide
  1005. 1005.
    >but best of all…
  1006. 1006.
     
  1007. 1007.
    >”Eep!”
  1008. 1008.
     
  1009. 1009.
    >Scootaloo yelps, jerking her head up
  1010. 1010.
    >rather a little yip of pain… but still gets your heart racing
  1011. 1011.
    >the spatula spank leaves behind the unmistakable red rectangle of burning hot pain on the middle of her behind
  1012. 1012.
    >And her hips do a faint little wiggle…
  1013. 1013.
     
  1014. 1014.
    >Okay. It’s time to find your groove again!
  1015. 1015.
    >Raising the spatula high, you bring it back down again
  1016. 1016.
    >and again… and again…
  1017. 1017.
    >rhythmically, and methodically
  1018. 1018.
     
  1019. 1019.
    >ThhhWAP! ThhhWAP! ThhhWAP! ThhhWAP! Thh…
  1020. 1020.
     
  1021. 1021.
    >”Ow! Yowch! Ow! OW! Ah! AH!”
  1022. 1022.
     
  1023. 1023.
    >But one thing you notice almost right away, is the sound Scootaloo makes
  1024. 1024.
    >They aren’t… well, as *dramatic* as Sweetie Belle’s plaintive wails for mercy
  1025. 1025.
    >They are much briefer, and more reactionary to each individual smack of the spatula
  1026. 1026.
    >And it becomes clear, as spank number 20 lands on Scootaloo’s naughty behind, that this little filly is used to far more spankings than Sweetie Belle is
  1027. 1027.
     
  1028. 1028.
    >Make no mistake: this filly is kicking, squirming, and clearly suffering with each spank across her behind
  1029. 1029.
    >and her butt is indeed reddening very nicely…
  1030. 1030.
    >But you recall Sweetie Belle’s carrying on, and on, and ON, sobbing like crazy
  1031. 1031.
    >And you remember these fillies’ previous conversation
  1032. 1032.
     
  1033. 1033.
    >”You guys always got spanked harder than me…”
  1034. 1034.
     
  1035. 1035.
    >turns out, they were very right!
  1036. 1036.
    >Sooo… perhaps it was time to increase your plans
  1037. 1037.
    >after all, you couldn’t have these fillies thinking you were a pushover, now could you?
  1038. 1038.
     
  1039. 1039.
    >So, you adjust your grip on the spatula
  1040. 1040.
    >flatten it out at a sharper, more vertical angle
  1041. 1041.
    >and then, swinging it up and down above the filly’s squirming, lightly bucking behind, you train it down repeatedly and repeatedly
  1042. 1042.
    >left, right, left, right, left, right
  1043. 1043.
    >alternating cheeks, but also moving up and down, side to side
  1044. 1044.
    >keeping your strength high, and feeling your eardrums practically shake with the sound of this nasty little tool smacking bare filly flanks
  1045. 1045.
     
  1046. 1046.
    >Scootaloo takes a few moments to respond
  1047. 1047.
    >but when she does…
  1048. 1048.
    >”Ow, ow, OWW! OW, OWW, AOW, AHH, AHOW! Ow, OW! OWWW!”
  1049. 1049.
     
  1050. 1050.
    >this change in pace results in Scootaloo’s renewed kicking
  1051. 1051.
    >And a change in tone from mere “ows” to true cries out, stringing all together
  1052. 1052.
    >And in your focus, you actually realize… you lost count of the spanks
  1053. 1053.
    >But you guess it’s close to 40 when Scootaloo starts to truly shake and jiggle her toned buttocks on your lap
  1054. 1054.
    >buttocks that are now rapidly turning bright, scorching red…
  1055. 1055.
     
  1056. 1056.
    >”AHH! OWWWOWW! OWW, it huuuUUURTSOWWW!”
  1057. 1057.
     
  1058. 1058.
    >Heheh, there it is
  1059. 1059.
    >The classic “it hurts” line mid-spanking
  1060. 1060.
    >It’s like every filly in the world needs to let you know that yes, indeed, spankings DO hurt their bottoms very much!
  1061. 1061.
    >you smile, and reward this declaration with four sharp spanks on her sit spots, rapid fire
  1062. 1062.
    >Scootaloo truly howls for the first time, and splays her hooves out wide
  1063. 1063.
    >kicking all around, this way and that
  1064. 1064.
    >but they only find empty air…
  1065. 1065.
     
  1066. 1066.
    >”OW, owwwOWWW! OW, oh, OHHH OWW! AAAH!”
  1067. 1067.
    >Scootaloo’s tail dock twitches and her tail tugs under your grip
  1068. 1068.
    >But it’s not going anywhere so long as she’s pinned on your knees
  1069. 1069.
    >you recount starting at what you *think* is probably 40 spanks, and count until 60…
  1070. 1070.
    >Already, ten… well, five more spanks than you gave Sweetie’s little butt yesterday
  1071. 1071.
    >but Scootaloo still isn’t well spanked enough…
  1072. 1072.
     
  1073. 1073.
    >her butt may be red, but Sweetie Belle’s behind was faaar redder by this point yesterday
  1074. 1074.
    >Well, maybe it was because of the snow white color of that naughty filly’s behind that made the red stand out more
  1075. 1075.
    >but it is as you feared… these other two fillies are probably used to good, long spankings
  1076. 1076.
    >and you aren’t going to fail to measure up!
  1077. 1077.
     
  1078. 1078.
    >ThhhWAP! ThhhWAP! ThhhWAP! ThhWAP!
  1079. 1079.
     
  1080. 1080.
    >70…75…80…85…
  1081. 1081.
     
  1082. 1082.
    >”OW OWWW AAAH!”
  1083. 1083.
    >Scootaloo’s head bobs up and down
  1084. 1084.
    >Hair flipping this way and that
  1085. 1085.
    >her tears are flowing much more freely now
  1086. 1086.
    >And her hooves are shuffling, crisscrossing, and wildly flailing
  1087. 1087.
    >and in the process, Scootaloo is showing off basically *everything* she’s got
  1088. 1088.
    >under her tail, displaying to the open air, in between each bottom cheek
  1089. 1089.
    >as those now red cheeks continue to get smacked harshly by the spatula
  1090. 1090.
     
  1091. 1091.
    >And briefly, you look up from the tushy you are torching
  1092. 1092.
    >over to the other two fillies who are up next
  1093. 1093.
    >still standing in their corners
  1094. 1094.
    >And even though you can’t see their faces, you can tell just by looking at them
  1095. 1095.
    >with their tails tucked firmly between their legs
  1096. 1096.
    >buns clenched instinctively
  1097. 1097.
    >and ears drooping back
  1098. 1098.
    >that the sounds of their friend being spanked HARD are taking their toll on their psyches…
  1099. 1099.
     
  1100. 1100.
    >Good.
  1101. 1101.
    >These girls need to learn their lessons.
  1102. 1102.
     
  1103. 1103.
    >ThhhWAP! ThhhWAP! ThhhWAP!
  1104. 1104.
     
  1105. 1105.
    >95…100…105…110…
  1106. 1106.
     
  1107. 1107.
    >Ok, now Scootaloo’s sobbing is starting to get desperate
  1108. 1108.
    >Breathless, reduced to blubbering
  1109. 1109.
    >Squeaking turns into weeping, turns into wailing
  1110. 1110.
    >Kicking legs turn into bucking, shaking hips
  1111. 1111.
    >mere red turns into glowing crimson on her formerly orange cheeks
  1112. 1112.
    >She gasps, wriggles, bucks, and sobs brokenly
  1113. 1113.
     
  1114. 1114.
    >You hear these noises coming from her maw, and you take them as a sign to keep on spanking for just a little bit longer
  1115. 1115.
    >You need this filly’s butt to be cooked to a wonderful well-done heat
  1116. 1116.
    >dissuade her from misleading your sweet little Sweetie Belle…
  1117. 1117.
     
  1118. 1118.
    >ThhhWAP! ThhhWAP! ThhhWAP!
  1119. 1119.
     
  1120. 1120.
    >120…125…130…135…
  1121. 1121.
     
  1122. 1122.
    >”BWAAAAHHHHHAAAAHHH!”
  1123. 1123.
    >And there it is.
  1124. 1124.
    >The broken, miserable, strung together sobs of a well punished filly
  1125. 1125.
    >Scootaloo’s face is simply bathed in tears
  1126. 1126.
    >And the couch is now stained with them, too
  1127. 1127.
    >It occurs to you, as you deliver stroke 140 to her burning behind, that you really didn’t have Sweetie over your knees for all THAT long yesterday…
  1128. 1128.
    >Well, of course it was certainly longer than what that little filly was used to!
  1129. 1129.
    >But when you see the true shade of strawberry that Scootaloo’s small, round, toned butt is now sporting?
  1130. 1130.
    >You realize that you could spank Sweetie even longer than this…
  1131. 1131.
    >MUCH longer
  1132. 1132.
    >there is more “surface area” and more “give” to that little filly’s bubble behind
  1133. 1133.
    >and you’ve learned while living here that spanking a naughty filly or colt, even *very*hard, isn’t frowned upon around here so long as you don’t bruise their cheeks…
  1134. 1134.
     
  1135. 1135.
    >And that was quite hard to do, you do say so yourself, as you deliver spank number 150 to Scootaloo’s blazing, wriggling, scorched butt
  1136. 1136.
    >A filly’s behind was practically designed to be spanked, based on how many times you have spanked, spanked, spanked away at even this filly’s much smaller, muscular and petite bottom without leaving any marks other than just a beautiful, blazing scarlet red!
  1137. 1137.
     
  1138. 1138.
    >Your musing is cut short when you suddenly feel the movement of feathers under your holding hand
  1139. 1139.
    >Scootaloo’s wings start to buzz under your forearm while she wails, as the smack of the spatula keep on coming
  1140. 1140.
    >You press down harder, clamping down on her wings
  1141. 1141.
    >then, gritting your teeth, you deliver a sequence of harsh, stinging smacks rapid fire to both sit spots, back and forth
  1142. 1142.
    >over and over again
  1143. 1143.
    >punishing this resistance fiercely
  1144. 1144.
    >Scootaloo arches her back, squealing so loud it almost hurts your ears, in response to this onslaught
  1145. 1145.
     
  1146. 1146.
    >But then… after a few seconds of tensing her whole body, Scootaloo gasps, heaves, and collapses
  1147. 1147.
    >draping herself completely over your knee
  1148. 1148.
    >head thumping into the blanket, tears streaming like rivers down her face…
  1149. 1149.
    >hind legs only feebly kicking and quivering
  1150. 1150.
    >and lastly: her now FLAMING red bottom, still bared, still vulnerable, and still arched up into the air
  1151. 1151.
    >plops down onto your right thigh
  1152. 1152.
    >ready for any more spanks you decide to give it
  1153. 1153.
    >no matter how much her bum burned like the fires of Tartarus itself
  1154. 1154.
    >still ready for more…
  1155. 1155.
     
  1156. 1156.
    >ThhhWAP! ThhhWAP! ThhhWAP!
  1157. 1157.
     
  1158. 1158.
    >160…165…aaaand 170.
  1159. 1159.
     
  1160. 1160.
    >ThhhWAPPP!!
  1161. 1161.
     
  1162. 1162.
    >”AAAAAOOWWWWW!”
  1163. 1163.
     
  1164. 1164.
    >You decide to end on spank number 170, an extra HARD one.
  1165. 1165.
    >Why? Who knows…
  1166. 1166.
    >You guess it’s just because Scootaloo is only weeping, twitching her behind, and lightly drumming her hooves on the couch with each new spank
  1167. 1167.
    >eyes running with tears, but body nearly limp
  1168. 1168.
    >just exhausted from the spanking
  1169. 1169.
    >And also, Scootaloo is now positively *drenched* in sweat
  1170. 1170.
    >Her mane, body, wing spines, and even her legs and tail… all just drip sweat, now
  1171. 1171.
     
  1172. 1172.
    >Well, it’s like you’ve been saying this whole time:
  1173. 1173.
    >Getting a spanking is quite the workout for a young filly!
  1174. 1174.
    >Even a filly with as fit and toned of flanks as Scootaloo…
  1175. 1175.
     
  1176. 1176.
    >You give her a couple minutes to catch her breath
  1177. 1177.
    >But you continue to hold her down on your lap while she shakes her hips and squirms desperately
  1178. 1178.
    >you feel her hooves gripping tightly onto your pants, and on the couch cushion
  1179. 1179.
    >and her tail twitches and swishes uselessly under your hand
  1180. 1180.
     
  1181. 1181.
    >But finally, as Scooty’s sobbing dies down, you decide it’s time to move on…
  1182. 1182.
    >You reach under Scootaloo, pick her up, and place her down on the floor
  1183. 1183.
     
  1184. 1184.
    >Oh wow
  1185. 1185.
    >Right away, Scootaloo begins the classic “spanked filly war dance” all over the place
  1186. 1186.
    >hippity hopping, reaching back with both hooves, and ouching and owwing all over the place
  1187. 1187.
    >shaking what her momma gave her the whole while and revealing herself to your view as she ends up adopting the same position as Sweetie did yesterday
  1188. 1188.
    >face down, ass up, and hooves reaching back to her poor, puuuunished buttcheeks
  1189. 1189.
    >stamping her hooves with pain and anguish
  1190. 1190.
     
  1191. 1191.
    >You observe with a lot of amusement this spectacle
  1192. 1192.
    >but after a few moments, you speak for the first time in probably at least a few minutes
  1193. 1193.
    >you’ve sorta lost track of time at this point…
  1194. 1194.
     
  1195. 1195.
    >”Ok, Scootaloo. That’s enough of that for now, young filly. Go back to your corner and stick your nose in there, got it? I want to see that tail all the way up, missy. And NO rubbing allowed.”
  1196. 1196.
     
  1197. 1197.
    >You direct Scootaloo cruelly through her sobbing and desperate gasps for relief
  1198. 1198.
    >she barely seems to hear you at all at first
  1199. 1199.
    >but you do patiently wait for the sobbing, sorry filly to finally comply with your orders
  1200. 1200.
    >until finally, with a forlorn and sad sob, Scootaloo slinks over back to her corner
  1201. 1201.
    >and like a good filly, she sticks her snotty nose back into it
  1202. 1202.
     
  1203. 1203.
    >But she doesn’t follow the last of your instructions right away…
  1204. 1204.
    >so you bark them out at her again
  1205. 1205.
    >”Scootaloo, tail up. All the way, young lady!”
  1206. 1206.
     
  1207. 1207.
    >Scootaloo moans and shakes with this command you give her
  1208. 1208.
    >But after a short period of shuffling her back legs, and dancing her bottom in a small figure 8 motion a few times… Scootaloo finally listens
  1209. 1209.
    >And slowly, she gets her sweaty, purple tail flagging up high in the air
  1210. 1210.
    >revealing the masterpiece of a spanking canvas you just created, viewable to all onlookers
  1211. 1211.
    >spanked red butt on full display
  1212. 1212.
     
  1213. 1213.
    >you gaze upon her naughty, well punished flanks for a few seconds
  1214. 1214.
    >and then, you switch gazes between hers, and Sweetie Belle’s
  1215. 1215.
    >comparing colors… only to find that Sweetie Belle’s behind is still slightly darker in shade!
  1216. 1216.
     
  1217. 1217.
    >You are actually surprised…
  1218. 1218.
    >Perhaps you went a little hard on Sweetie Belle with this whole “splitting up the spanking” routine
  1219. 1219.
    >but then, you remind yourself of the crucial fact; Sweetie isn’t used to *truly* hard spankings
  1220. 1220.
    >So, you suppose you have to temper your expectations for disciplining her, still…
  1221. 1221.
    >And perhaps, someone like you coming around is exactly what that naughty filly truly needs!
  1222. 1222.
     
  1223. 1223.
    >but there is one filly where that isn’t the case.
  1224. 1224.
    >One filly who you are SURE is used to some pretty hard bottom tannings in her day…
  1225. 1225.
    >And she’s standing in this room right now, in the opposite corner
  1226. 1226.
    >Her legs squirming lightly, butt clenching, and her tail twitching fearfully in response to each one of her friend’s sobs of pain…
  1227. 1227.
     
  1228. 1228.
    >You sit up on the couch, grip your spatula with your spanking hand… and you call her name.
  1229. 1229.
     
  1230. 1230.
    >”Ok, Apple Bloom. You’re next, young filly. Come here.”
  1231. 1231.
     
  1232. 1232.
    >When you call Apple Bloom's name, the reaction is a tad different than Scootaloo's was
  1233. 1233.
    >this time, you watch as the filly, with a nervous gulp, actually obeys you almost right away
  1234. 1234.
    >she turns around, and without wasting very much time
  1235. 1235.
    >she walks over to you on the couch
  1236. 1236.
    >she isn't fast walking by any means
  1237. 1237.
    >but you are rather surprised at her pace compared to Scootaloo, how basically had to drag her hooves over to you
  1238. 1238.
    >like they were weighted by balls and chains on each hoof...
  1239. 1239.
     
  1240. 1240.
    >but Apple Bloom, despite the nervousness and fear very clear in her eyes
  1241. 1241.
    >she walks with more speed anyways
  1242. 1242.
    >you regard her when she stops right in front of you, head down
  1243. 1243.
    >not making eye contact...
  1244. 1244.
     
  1245. 1245.
    >awww.
  1246. 1246.
    >There's something about this particular filly that just makes her so damn especially cute
  1247. 1247.
    >but still... she's got a good punishment to get through anyways
  1248. 1248.
    >and it's your solemn duty to give it to her!
  1249. 1249.
     
  1250. 1250.
    >You pat your lap with the spatula
  1251. 1251.
    >and gesture to your knees
  1252. 1252.
    >looking gravely down at her
  1253. 1253.
    >"Ok, missy. Come on over."
  1254. 1254.
     
  1255. 1255.
    >"Yes, M-Mister Anon..."
  1256. 1256.
     
  1257. 1257.
    >But then, Apple Bloom does something else that surprises you...
  1258. 1258.
    >you reach out for her, preparing to pick her up, just like you did with Scootaloo
  1259. 1259.
    >but instead, Apple Bloom seems to not even see your arms reach out toward her
  1260. 1260.
    >and instead, she walks to the spot between the V shape you've made with your legs
  1261. 1261.
    >right between your left and right knees
  1262. 1262.
    >and then...
  1263. 1263.
     
  1264. 1264.
    >Huh.
  1265. 1265.
    >You freeze for a second as Apple Bloom proceeds to adopt a position you've never done before
  1266. 1266.
    >she actually climbs up onto your *left* leg
  1267. 1267.
    >and you watch as Apple Bloom then lays down over your left thigh, diagonally
  1268. 1268.
    >and leaves her hind legs dangling, off the bed
  1269. 1269.
    >her upper body, resting on the bed
  1270. 1270.
    >and her butt, bent all the way over your left thigh
  1271. 1271.
     
  1272. 1272.
    >and most shockingly of all, she even lifts up her tail on her own
  1273. 1273.
    >moves it away from her bottom, and flags it high up
  1274. 1274.
    >aaall by herself
  1275. 1275.
    >exposing her plump, but firm yellow bottom for punishment
  1276. 1276.
    >aaand everything else under a naughty filly's tail, too...0
  1277. 1277.
     
  1278. 1278.
    >At first, you just stare down at the filly
  1279. 1279.
    >a little surprised at this newfound position
  1280. 1280.
    >at first, you aren't sure what exactly you're looking at?
  1281. 1281.
    >you've honestly only ever though of spankings over your knees as being... well, over your KNEES
  1282. 1282.
    >not just one knee...
  1283. 1283.
    >and you almost reach under Apple Bloom, pick her up, and set her down over your whole lap just like before...
  1284. 1284.
     
  1285. 1285.
    >but then, it occurs to you.
  1286. 1286.
    >you look down... yep, there's Bloomy's butt, in place and "accessible"
  1287. 1287.
    >actually, it's bent over and sticking up in the air even more that usual, from the angle of being bent over only one thigh...
  1288. 1288.
    >and her hind legs are between yours...
  1289. 1289.
    >which means...
  1290. 1290.
     
  1291. 1291.
    >wow. You can't believe you never thought of this one before!
  1292. 1292.
    >you can just adjust your right leg inward, close your legs, aaand...
  1293. 1293.
     
  1294. 1294.
    >"Apple Bloom? Is this how you normally get spanked at home, young lady?"
  1295. 1295.
     
  1296. 1296.
    >you actually have to ask now, out of curiosity
  1297. 1297.
    >Apple Bloom, who is so tense, so focused, and almost seems like she is in a different world, startles at your question
  1298. 1298.
    >but she stammers, and nods her head emphatically
  1299. 1299.
    >looking over her shoulder, back at you
  1300. 1300.
     
  1301. 1301.
    >"Y-Yes, Mister Anon! It is... d-do you, I mean, did I...?"
  1302. 1302.
     
  1303. 1303.
    >Awww.
  1304. 1304.
    >She's so nervous
  1305. 1305.
    >luckily you cut her off before she can stammer more
  1306. 1306.
     
  1307. 1307.
    >"Shhh, you're okay, missy... I see. So, they pin your legs down, young filly?"
  1308. 1308.
     
  1309. 1309.
    >Apple Bloom at first looks a little confused by the question
  1310. 1310.
    > but she nods once more
  1311. 1311.
    >aww, you can see her blushing...
  1312. 1312.
     
  1313. 1313.
    >"Uh...uh huh... Applejack always tells me I kick n' move my legs an' my bottom too much durin' spankins... so she says she gotta make s-sure she keeps me still so she can spank me s-safe."
  1314. 1314.
     
  1315. 1315.
    >This filly...
  1316. 1316.
    >aww.
  1317. 1317.
    >she is just precious.
  1318. 1318.
    >so good, she is...
  1319. 1319.
    >so obedient, cooperative, and so goddamn CUTE
  1320. 1320.
    >hnnng...
  1321. 1321.
     
  1322. 1322.
    >But ok.
  1323. 1323.
    >You have a bottom, perched on your thigh and aimed high at the cieling, that is BEGGING to be spanked, now
  1324. 1324.
    >and it's about time you did that!
  1325. 1325.
     
  1326. 1326.
    >"I see. Well then... we'll make sure you get the spanking you need, young filly. So..."
  1327. 1327.
     
  1328. 1328.
    >You pick up that spatula, and clamp your right leg down on over Apple Bloom's hind legs
  1329. 1329.
    >pressing them down, and pinning them in place
  1330. 1330.
    >Apple Bloom's butt is now framed by your legs below, and your holding hand over her tail above
  1331. 1331.
    >and her cheeks are ready to be heated up to an inferno!
  1332. 1332.
     
  1333. 1333.
    >she whimpers when you put your leg down over hers
  1334. 1334.
    >and whimpers some more when she feels the wood of the spatula rest onto her bare bottom
  1335. 1335.
    >but you actually notice that despite her fear, her bottom cheeks actually don't clench...
  1336. 1336.
    >but her legs do, going stiff and still against your pinning leg
  1337. 1337.
    >almost like she's trying her best NOT to resist
  1338. 1338.
    >and her bottom even raises just a tiny bit more...
  1339. 1339.
    >as if accepting and cooperating with its fate to be toasted by your spatula
  1340. 1340.
     
  1341. 1341.
    >Hnnng
  1342. 1342.
    >this filly may be about to get a botttom roasting for the ages...
  1343. 1343.
    >but she is a very good girl.
  1344. 1344.
     
  1345. 1345.
    >a shame it won't help her butt now.
  1346. 1346.
    >your mind is set and her butt's fate is sealed
  1347. 1347.
    >tap, tap, tap to aim...
  1348. 1348.
     
  1349. 1349.
    >Raise... ThhhWAP!
  1350. 1350.
     
  1351. 1351.
    >"Mm!"
  1352. 1352.
     
  1353. 1353.
    >You deliver the same strength smack to the errant filly's naughty tush
  1354. 1354.
    >same as all the other ones you gave to poor Scootaloo...
  1355. 1355.
    >but Bloom's reaction is a little different to her first spank
  1356. 1356.
    >a little, subdued grunt of pain escapes her
  1357. 1357.
    >but it is made with her mouth *closed*
  1358. 1358.
    >and her bottom barely even twitches as a nice, pink rectangle appears on her left buttock...
  1359. 1359.
     
  1360. 1360.
    >you bite your lip
  1361. 1361.
    >hmm...
  1362. 1362.
    >yep, this filly definitely is used to being spanked, if that reaction is anything to go by!
  1363. 1363.
     
  1364. 1364.
    >You tap tap again, then raise the spatula back up…
  1365. 1365.
     
  1366. 1366.
    >ThhhWAPPP!!
  1367. 1367.
     
  1368. 1368.
    >”MM!”
  1369. 1369.
     
  1370. 1370.
    >The second one is significantly stronger than the first
  1371. 1371.
    >in fact, the smacking noise makes you blink reflexively with how loud it is
  1372. 1372.
    >Hell, you even notice that Scootaloo AND Sweetie’s bottoms both flex with the sound
  1373. 1373.
    >And Scootaloo squirms uncomfortably in her corner, tail flicking nervously…
  1374. 1374.
     
  1375. 1375.
    >But the sound that leaves Apple Bloom is only a little louder than the first little “meep” of pain…
  1376. 1376.
    >She does flinch just a little bit… but on your knee, her butt somehow remains still
  1377. 1377.
    >the strength of the smack was hard enough to really ripple the skin of her bigger, but still firm flanks
  1378. 1378.
    >and there’s another much pinker rectangle forming next to the first one…
  1379. 1379.
    >it has to burn like the dickens, and yet…
  1380. 1380.
    >Bloomy’s butt barely even squirms at all
  1381. 1381.
    >Stays perked up, perched on your thigh, and ready for more.
  1382. 1382.
     
  1383. 1383.
    >MUCH more.
  1384. 1384.
    >Well, it seems you have your work cut out for you on this one!
  1385. 1385.
    >Fortunately… you like your job.
  1386. 1386.
    >You smirk, and raise the spatula up again…
  1387. 1387.
     
  1388. 1388.
    >Let’s get this spanking going.
  1389. 1389.
     
  1390. 1390.
    >ThhhWAPP! ThhhWAPP! ThhhWAPP! ThhhWAPPP!!!
  1391. 1391.
     
  1392. 1392.
    >”Mm! Unh, mmph! Ah… Ah, oh! MM!”
  1393. 1393.
     
  1394. 1394.
    >Spanks rain down on this filly’s behind
  1395. 1395.
    >You gradually increase the strength until the smacks really do echo a bit off the walls of the living room
  1396. 1396.
    >leaving behind lots, and lots of pink rectangles on her yellow bottom
  1397. 1397.
    >until they all start to melt together into one big mass of hot, steaming pink by swat number 25…
  1398. 1398.
     
  1399. 1399.
    >But apart from some open mawed squeals of pain, Apple Bloom’s composure remains…
  1400. 1400.
    >not defiantly, like a filly who’s trying their best not to cry
  1401. 1401.
    >not at all… in fact, tears are running freely down her face
  1402. 1402.
    >And her sobs are gentle and sweet… but still there, for sure
  1403. 1403.
    >It seems as if Apple Bloom is accepting her punishment with a tremendous amount of maturity
  1404. 1404.
    >even as the spatula delivers smack after harsh ThhhWAPP!! to her rump cheeks… and spank number 40 comes and goes
  1405. 1405.
     
  1406. 1406.
    >even her hind legs, which you have pinned in place, are only kicking a little bit under there
  1407. 1407.
    >her tail is obediently flagged high, dock not even twitching
  1408. 1408.
    >And her bottom remains relaxed… even as swats 59 and 60 spank down hard onto her sit spots
  1409. 1409.
     
  1410. 1410.
    >”Mmnnnnoww! Ah, ah… bwuhhuhuhhhhh…”
  1411. 1411.
     
  1412. 1412.
    >More sobbing, but not wailing or carrying on at all…
  1413. 1413.
    >some yelps, groans, and gasps of pain
  1414. 1414.
    >but mostly just remorseful, tearful weeps
  1415. 1415.
    >her demeanor itself is almost apologetic…
  1416. 1416.
    >and her bottom turns redder and redder under your viciously spanking arm and spatula…
  1417. 1417.
     
  1418. 1418.
    >ThhhWAPP!!! ThhhWAPP!!! ThhhWAPP!!!
  1419. 1419.
     
  1420. 1420.
    >80…85…90…95…
  1421. 1421.
     
  1422. 1422.
    >110…115…120…125…
  1423. 1423.
     
  1424. 1424.
    >140…145…150…155…
  1425. 1425.
     
  1426. 1426.
    >”Waaahhaaahuhhh… owwaaaahhohowww… bwaaaahhhh!”
  1427. 1427.
     
  1428. 1428.
    >It takes until stroke 160 before you finally start to see cracks in this filly’s rather stationary position on your knees
  1429. 1429.
    >finally, her now VERY red butt does start to wiggle…
  1430. 1430.
    >Well, as much as your right legs allows, but it wiggles indeed!
  1431. 1431.
    >And her hind legs finally start to crisscross and lightly kick with what is sure to be agonized pain, thumping under your pinning leg
  1432. 1432.
    >but even then, the struggles aren’t frantic
  1433. 1433.
    >And Bloom is still being a very, very good girl, taking her harsh punishment with tears of genuine remorse
  1434. 1434.
     
  1435. 1435.
    >It occurs to you now… if Applejack think Bloomy kicks too much during a spanking, then how freaking hard does that farm mare spank!?
  1436. 1436.
    >Or how long…
  1437. 1437.
     
  1438. 1438.
    >You can’t keep this filly here all night, though.
  1439. 1439.
    >you need to bring her to the same stage Scootaloo was: wailing, howling, desperate, and begging for mercy
  1440. 1440.
    >And as you deliver spank number 170… you ain’t there yet, chief
  1441. 1441.
    >But you also can’t obviously just spank Apple Bloom sooo much more than her friends… at least, not without justification
  1442. 1442.
     
  1443. 1443.
    >Your brain gears turn…
  1444. 1444.
    >But then, an idea appears
  1445. 1445.
    >And you smile, feeling the filly cringe and weep with stroke number 175, smacking onto her reeed flanks
  1446. 1446.
     
  1447. 1447.
    >then, you stop.
  1448. 1448.
    >For just a moment… but this ain’t over for Bloomy yet…
  1449. 1449.
     
  1450. 1450.
    >You ask a question, resting the spatula onto the center of her lightly squirming butt
  1451. 1451.
     
  1452. 1452.
    >”Now, Apple Bloom… you were the leader of the group today, weren’t you?”
  1453. 1453.
     
  1454. 1454.
    >you wait through Bloomy’s weeps and sobs
  1455. 1455.
    >but you are sure she heard your question
  1456. 1456.
    >because her ears perked up from their depressed, floppy position on her head
  1457. 1457.
    >angled themselves toward you
  1458. 1458.
    >you smirk
  1459. 1459.
     
  1460. 1460.
    >In her usual obedient attitude, Apple Bloom heaves out a good sob, and nods her cute little head
  1461. 1461.
    >”I-I… It was m-my idea, s-sir.”
  1462. 1462.
     
  1463. 1463.
    >Sir?
  1464. 1464.
    >Hmm… you like it.
  1465. 1465.
    >you like it a LOT.
  1466. 1466.
    >you feel your heart swell with pride for a second, but then it’s back to business…
  1467. 1467.
     
  1468. 1468.
    >”Yep… that’s what I thought, missy. So, this is what we’re going to do, young lady…”
  1469. 1469.
     
  1470. 1470.
    >You actually release Apple Bloom, spreading your legs apart
  1471. 1471.
    >then, let go of her back and tail
  1472. 1472.
    >letting the well spanked filly slide backward, til her hooves touch the floor
  1473. 1473.
    >Apple Bloom moans, and with an adorable whine she reaches back to her butt with a hoof
  1474. 1474.
    >But quickly, you snatch a hold of her hoof and pull it back away
  1475. 1475.
    >Apple Bloom blanches, and she looks fearfully over her shoulder
  1476. 1476.
    >you tsk tsk down at her
  1477. 1477.
     
  1478. 1478.
    >”No no, sweetheart. No rubbing yet, you hear? You punishment isn’t over.”
  1479. 1479.
     
  1480. 1480.
    >Apple Bloom’s ears flop back on her head
  1481. 1481.
    >and as she slides further away from your lap, her big, expressive, and tearful eyes look up at you with confusion and forlorn sadness
  1482. 1482.
    >but you regard her stare with firmness and sternness, as usual
  1483. 1483.
     
  1484. 1484.
    >”Oh no, Apple Bloom. Here’s what you need to do, young lady: I want you to go outside, to the backyard. Then, I want you to bring me a good switch.”
  1485. 1485.
     
  1486. 1486.
    >Apple Bloom’s eyes widen when she hears the word “Switch”
  1487. 1487.
    >oh boy, do they widen!
  1488. 1488.
    >Tears instantly spill out and run down her face anew
  1489. 1489.
    >And for the first time since the spanking began… her adorable, fluffy red tail swishes back over her not quite as red little flanks
  1490. 1490.
    >shielding them instinctively
  1491. 1491.
    >And upon seeing that, it all clicks…
  1492. 1492.
     
  1493. 1493.
    >The switch stings like the dickens
  1494. 1494.
    >Worse than possibly anything else out there
  1495. 1495.
    >You’ve been spanking this filly with a flat object this whole time…
  1496. 1496.
    >But her expression change when you declare her next fate, is incredible
  1497. 1497.
     
  1498. 1498.
    >Apple Bloom freezes for a few seconds
  1499. 1499.
    >pure terror on her face
  1500. 1500.
    >And in their respective corners, you see Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle’s ears perk up, point high, and then… flop back down again
  1501. 1501.
    >with their heads drooping just like their ears…
  1502. 1502.
    >Awwww. Looks like EVERY filly in here knows how severe a switch truly is…
  1503. 1503.
     
  1504. 1504.
    >But, true to form, Apple Bloom doesn’t protest
  1505. 1505.
    >She freezes for a while, sure… but no excuses, or pleas, or even puppy dog eyes get made in your direction
  1506. 1506.
    >Instead, she hangs her head… sobs… then nods her head
  1507. 1507.
    >”Y-Yes, sir…”
  1508. 1508.
     
  1509. 1509.
    >Hnnng!
  1510. 1510.
    >There goes that “sir” again…
  1511. 1511.
    >you could really get used to that…
  1512. 1512.
    >you nod your head approvingly
  1513. 1513.
     
  1514. 1514.
    >”Good. Good girl. Now… one last thing. Sweetie Belle! Come over here.”
  1515. 1515.
     
  1516. 1516.
    >Both Sweetie Belle, AND Apple Bloom, both jump in startled reflex
  1517. 1517.
    >Sweetie Belle especially… she gasps, and her nose leaves her corner
  1518. 1518.
    >Apple Bloom looks over to her, eyes flowing with tears
  1519. 1519.
    >And when Sweetie Belle turns around, they meet eyes
  1520. 1520.
    >And then… Sweetie Belle’s eyes drift over to Apple Bloom’s bum…
  1521. 1521.
     
  1522. 1522.
    >She already has white fur… but you could swear it turns to bleach white when she sees just how APPLE RED Apple Bloom’s naughty behind now is
  1523. 1523.
    >an involuntary whimper comes out of her
  1524. 1524.
    >and she shrinks low to the floor
  1525. 1525.
     
  1526. 1526.
    >No no. No time to cower, Sweetie Belle.
  1527. 1527.
    >You point to the spot with one finger, in a very stern “come here” gesture
  1528. 1528.
     
  1529. 1529.
    >”Sweetie Belle… you need to do as you’re told, young filly. Come here.”
  1530. 1530.
     
  1531. 1531.
    >The naughty filly listens to you this time…
  1532. 1532.
    >And slowly, she slinks over to you
  1533. 1533.
    >leaving the safety of her corner…
  1534. 1534.
    >every step bringing her closer to doom
  1535. 1535.
     
  1536. 1536.
    >she side eyes Apple Bloom, who looks back at her with most apologetic stare you have ever seen
  1537. 1537.
    >this poor little farm filly feels absolutely horrendous about this whole situation, you can tell…
  1538. 1538.
    >but she is scared silent, now
  1539. 1539.
    >awaiting the next cruel thing you have in store for her, and her friend…
  1540. 1540.
     
  1541. 1541.
    >Sweetie eventually stands right before you
  1542. 1542.
    >shivering, tail swishing, hooves crossing demurely
  1543. 1543.
    >eyes downcast
  1544. 1544.
    >And tears already plopping down on the floor…
  1545. 1545.
     
  1546. 1546.
    >poor, sweet little wimp...
  1547. 1547.
    >Your fingers tingle as they grip the spatula handle
  1548. 1548.
    >and your heart races excitedly
  1549. 1549.
     
  1550. 1550.
    >”Listen here, both of you. Sweetie Belle, you’re gonna get over my knee. Apple Bloom is gonna go out and get her switch for the rest of HER butt tanning… and missy, I’m gonna paddle your behind until Apple Bloom gets back here, her switch in tow. Only then, will your spanking today be done and over with, and then Apple Bloom will… *switch* places with you and take the rest of her well deserved punishment. Understood?”
  1551. 1551.
     
  1552. 1552.
    >Sweetie Belle’s breath hitches
  1553. 1553.
    >her little white limbs tremble
  1554. 1554.
    >her butt clenches
  1555. 1555.
    >but you watch as both fillies in front of you absorb the information
  1556. 1556.
    >and Sweetie Belle starts to cry anew
  1557. 1557.
    >she nods her head, pitifully
  1558. 1558.
    >and Apple Bloom timidly nods alongside her…
  1559. 1559.
    >she still doesn’t protest
  1560. 1560.
     
  1561. 1561.
    >But… she does just ask one thing
  1562. 1562.
    >”M-Mister Anon?”
  1563. 1563.
     
  1564. 1564.
    >"Yes, young lady?”
  1565. 1565.
     
  1566. 1566.
    >Apple Bloom swallows nervously… then asks
  1567. 1567.
    >”H-how many licks is Sweetie gonna get?”
  1568. 1568.
     
  1569. 1569.
    >”Hmm.”
  1570. 1570.
     
  1571. 1571.
    >You look down at Sweetie Belle’s bottom
  1572. 1572.
    >still red from its spankings yesterday...
  1573. 1573.
    >and you smirk
  1574. 1574.
     
  1575. 1575.
    >”As many as it takes miss Apple Bloom to get back here with her switch. So…”
  1576. 1576.
     
  1577. 1577.
    >You make eye contact with Apple Bloom.
  1578. 1578.
    >she realizes…
  1579. 1579.
    >you wait…
  1580. 1580.
    >her eyes widen more, and her cheeks flush red
  1581. 1581.
     
  1582. 1582.
    >Apple Bloom balks
  1583. 1583.
    >she whines… but she nods
  1584. 1584.
    >and before you even tell her to go out…
  1585. 1585.
    >she turns on her hooves, and FLEES out the back door
  1586. 1586.
    >probably running to get that switch as fast as she can...
  1587. 1587.
     
  1588. 1588.
    >haha… you can’t help but smirk some more
  1589. 1589.
    >it’s cute how eager she is to help Sweetie Belle
  1590. 1590.
    >but you've got a job to do, now.
  1591. 1591.
     
  1592. 1592.
    >With Apple Bloom gone, you turn your attention back to Sweetie Belle.
  1593. 1593.
    >Her wide, tear-filled eyes meet yours, pleading silently.
  1594. 1594.
    >You pat your knee firmly. "Over. Now."
  1595. 1595.
    >Her breath hitches again, but she doesn't argue - she knows better by now.
  1596. 1596.
    >The little filly shuffles forward, her movements slow and reluctant.
  1597. 1597.
    >When she's close enough, you guide her down across your lap with practiced ease.
  1598. 1598.
    >Her hind legs kick out instinctively, but you pin them between your thighs.
  1599. 1599.
    >Now there's no escape - just the inevitable sting waiting for her upturned backside.
  1600. 1600.
     
  1601. 1601.
    >"M-Mister Anon?" Sweetie Belle's voice quivers as she twists to look back at you.
  1602. 1602.
    >"Are... are these ones gonna count? Like, t-towards the two hundred?"
  1603. 1603.
    >You chuckle darkly and rub her already-warmed cheeks, feeling her tense under your touch.
  1604. 1604.
    >"Oh no, little miss. These are extra. You're getting punished right now for being naughty *today*."
  1605. 1605.
    >A fresh sob escapes her as the reality sinks in - this isn't part of her negotiated sentence.
  1606. 1606.
    >This is pure, immediate consequences for whatever fresh mischief you've caught her in.
  1607. 1607.
    >You raise your hand with the spatula high.
  1608. 1608.
     
  1609. 1609.
    >The first sharp *CRACK* echoes through the kitchen, followed instantly by Sweetie Belle's shrill yelp.
  1610. 1610.
    >Her whole body jerks against your lap as the fire blooms across her plump buttcheeks.
  1611. 1611.
    >"Owwowowww! OWWIE! OWWW!!!"
  1612. 1612.
     
  1613. 1613.
    >Before she can recover, the spatula comes down again, left cheek this tim...and again, right... and again, left, right, left, right...
  1614. 1614.
    >Each impact lands with rhythmic precision, staccato slaps ringing out rapid-fire like a metronome set to maximum speed.
  1615. 1615.
    >Sweetie Belle's helpless hooves wiggle and curl from under your pinning right thigh
  1616. 1616.
    >Her wails crescendo between every fresh strike, her voice bouncing between desperate squeals and breathless whimpers as her rear end blooms crimson and hot.
  1617. 1617.
     
  1618. 1618.
    >The spatula lifts... hesitates... then snaps down dead center, catching both cheeks at once.
  1619. 1619.
    >Sweetie Belle *shrieks*, her whole body bowing upward as if trying to levitate away from your punishing hand.
  1620. 1620.
    >"NnnoOoooOOO! Too *hic* TOO MUCH!" she howls, tears splattering the floor beneath her scrunched-up face.
  1621. 1621.
    >Her hindquarters judder violently, twitching side to side like a caught fish as the sting radiates outward in pulsing waves.
  1622. 1622.
     
  1623. 1623.
    >pfft. Too much?
  1624. 1624.
    >when it comes to THIS filly's bubble butt?
  1625. 1625.
    >There is no such thing as "too much" spanking...
  1626. 1626.
     
  1627. 1627.
    >You pause just long enough to let her register the full extent of her predicament
  1628. 1628.
    >the throbbing pain, the helpless position... the inevitability of more
  1629. 1629.
    >Sweetie Belle takes the lull like a drowning filly gasping for air, her chest heaving as she tries (and fails) to catch her breath.
  1630. 1630.
    >Her tail flicks sporadically against your forearm
  1631. 1631.
    >not defiantly, but instinctively, like a wounded creature flinching from touch
  1632. 1632.
    >Under your spatula, her punished flesh feels impossibly hot, the skin tight and tenderized like overripe fruit ready to burst...
  1633. 1633.
     
  1634. 1634.
    >Then *WHAP!*
  1635. 1635.
    >you resume, striking lower where sit-spot meets thigh.
  1636. 1636.
    >The startled filly practically levitates off your lap with a garbled scream, her voice cracking mid-wail.
  1637. 1637.
    >"ST-STOP! PLEASE! I'M *hic* ON FIREEE!" she warbles, her words dissolving into incoherent sobs.
  1638. 1638.
    >But you don't stop, can't stop, not until Apple Bloom returns.
  1639. 1639.
     
  1640. 1640.
    >The next dozen smacks find fresh territory
  1641. 1641.
    >the sensitive undercurve where her cheeks meet her thighs
  1642. 1642.
    >each one drawing a new octave of distress.
  1643. 1643.
    >Sweetie Belle's hips buck wildly, her front hooves scrabbling helplessly
  1644. 1644.
    >Tears and snot drip freely now, forming a glistening puddle beneath her scrunched-up muzzle.
  1645. 1645.
    >Her previously light red flanks now glow like polished mahogany, every inch punished to a uniform angry red
  1646. 1646.
     
  1647. 1647.
    >"Eighty-nine... Ninety..." you count in your head between measured strikes, your mind calm amidst the storm of her suffering.
  1648. 1648.
    >Sweetie Belle's entire body jerks with each number
  1649. 1649.
    >Her begging has degraded into breathless, hiccupping nonsense
  1650. 1650.
    >half-syllables and wet sniffles between shuddering gasps
  1651. 1651.
     
  1652. 1652.
    >Somewhere beyond the kitchen window, you swear you hear the distant thunder of Apple Bloom's panicked gallop...
  1653. 1653.
     
  1654. 1654.
    >The back door slams open with enough force to rattle the cabinets
  1655. 1655.
    >and there stands the little farm filly, flanks heaving, coat matted with sweat
  1656. 1656.
    >her teeth clenching around a freshly-cut switch!
  1657. 1657.
    >Her wide, frantic eyes dart from Sweetie Belle's violently twitching backside to your raised hand, and she practically spits the switch at your feet in her haste.
  1658. 1658.
     
  1659. 1659.
    >"I *huff* GOT IT! I GOT IT! *wheeze* PLEASE D-DON'T WHUP HER NO MORE, MISTER ANON!"
  1660. 1660.
     
  1661. 1661.
    >You let your raised hand hover dramatically for one excruciating second
  1662. 1662.
    >just long enough for Sweetie Belle to freeze mid-sob, her entire body tensed for another searing impact...
  1663. 1663.
    >...before lowering it slowly
  1664. 1664.
    >Beneath your thighs, her legs go limp with instant, shuddering relief.
  1665. 1665.
     
  1666. 1666.
    >"Well now," you murmur, plucking the switch from the floorboards and testing its wicked flex against your palm. "Looks like a good one, young lady."
  1667. 1667.
     
  1668. 1668.
    >Sweetie Belle barely hears you
  1669. 1669.
    >she's too busy sliding bonelessly off your lap the moment you loosen your grip, collapsing onto all fours with a pathetic little *whump*.
  1670. 1670.
    >Her hind legs scissor awkwardly as she twists to reach her ravaged backside, her hooves patting gingerly at the scorched skin.
  1671. 1671.
     
  1672. 1672.
    >"Owhttp://www..."
  1673. 1673.
    >Every tiny shift makes her wince; even the air moving over her punished flesh seems to burn!
  1674. 1674.
     
  1675. 1675.
    >You bite back a smirk as she performs the universal dance of the well-spanked filly: hoof-skipping in place
  1676. 1676.
    >tail twitching like a faulty metronome
  1677. 1677.
    >her tear-streaked face screwed up in comic agony.
  1678. 1678.
    >She rubs frantically, then yelps when even that pressure proves too much, settling for cupping her cheeks delicately while whining through her teeth. Adorable.
  1679. 1679.
    >But...
  1680. 1680.
     
  1681. 1681.
    >"Enough theatrics." Your voice slices through her misery like the switch in your hand. "Corner. Now."
  1682. 1682.
     
  1683. 1683.
    >Sweetie Belle's ears flatten, but she shuffles obediently toward the dreaded spot, her gait resembling a newborn fawn's.
  1684. 1684.
    >She whimpers and looks over to Apple Bloom
  1685. 1685.
    >the two fillies exchange sad looks
  1686. 1686.
    >Sweetie Belle, in the midst of her spanky suffering, actually looks pleadingly back to you for just a moment
  1687. 1687.
    >but you return her gaze with a cold stare
  1688. 1688.
     
  1689. 1689.
    >When Sweetie eventually gets to the corner, you watch as her tail flicks side to side, her absolutely crimson buttocks displayed underneath
  1690. 1690.
    >her and Scootaloo in opposing sides, both of their sniffling noses in the corner, both filly flanks displayed adorably
  1691. 1691.
    >Hnnnngg....
  1692. 1692.
     
  1693. 1693.
    >Behind her, Apple Bloom watches with round, horrified eyes... until you turn that gaze on *her*.
  1694. 1694.
     
  1695. 1695.
    >"As for you, little miss..."
  1696. 1696.
     
  1697. 1697.
    >Apple Bloom's ears twitch upright like a startled rabbits at the sound of your voice.
  1698. 1698.
     
  1699. 1699.
    >Her front hooves shuffle nervously in place, and you see her throat bob as she swallows hard
  1700. 1700.
    >but she still lifts her chin with that stubborn Apple family pride.
  1701. 1701.
    >The switch in your hand sways hypnotically as you beckon her forward with two curled fingers.
  1702. 1702.
     
  1703. 1703.
    >She comes to you in halting steps
  1704. 1704.
    >each hoof-fall sounding impossibly loud in the hush between Sweetie Belle's sniffles. >When she's within reach, you watch her amber eyes dart from your face to the switch, then down to your lap currently occupied by air instead of a squirming filly.
  1705. 1705.
    >Her brow furrows in confusion just as you're realizing the same logistical problem: this wicked length of hickory needs room to sing.
  1706. 1706.
     
  1707. 1707.
    >"M-Mister Anon?" Her voice is smaller than you've ever heard it. One hoof scrapes against the floor like a prisoner dragging chains. "Where... where do you want me?"
  1708. 1708.
     
  1709. 1709.
    >The question hangs between you, ripe with unspoken understanding.
  1710. 1710.
    >Her hind legs tremble visibly, but she doesn't back away...
  1711. 1711.
     
  1712. 1712.
    >Your gaze drifts sideways to the overstuffed couch arm beside you...
  1713. 1713.
    >specifically to its broad, padded armrest perfect for bending rebellious fillies over.
  1714. 1714.
    >The realization hits you both simultaneously; you see Apple Bloom's pupils shrink to pinpricks as she follows your line of sight.
  1715. 1715.
     
  1716. 1716.
    >"Up." You tap the armrest twice with the switch, the sound like a judge's gavel.
  1717. 1717.
    >Apple Bloom exhales sharply through her nose but obeys without protest, moving with the stiff-limbed resignation of a pony marching to the gallows.
  1718. 1718.
    >Her forehooves hit the couch cushions first, then with one awkward scramble, she pitches herself belly-down across the armrest.
  1719. 1719.
     
  1720. 1720.
    >The resulting position is almost comically lewd: her hindquarters jut skyward at a near-vertical angle, the globes of her already reddened backside tensing visibly
  1721. 1721.
    >Her hind legs dangle uselessly
  1722. 1722.
    >You can't help noticing how her tail lifts instinctively—not in defiance, but in terrified submission, presenting her round targets perfectly.
  1723. 1723.
     
  1724. 1724.
    >The hickory switch whistles through the air experimentally while you give it a good swish!
  1725. 1725.
    >Apple Bloom's entire body jerks at the sound alone, her breath escaping in a shaky "Hnnn!" as she clasps the couch fabric between her hooves.
  1726. 1726.
    >A bead of sweat trickles down her temple, her ribcage expanding rapidly against the armrest's curve.
  1727. 1727.
    >"M-Mister Anon..." she starts, but the plea dies in her throat when you tap the switch meaningfully against her sit-spots: that tender junction where bottom meets thigh.
  1728. 1728.
     
  1729. 1729.
    >"Now Apple Bloom," you murmur, watching goosebumps erupt across her twitching flanks. "You're gonna be a good girl for your switching, aren't you?"
  1730. 1730.
    >Her tail flicks nervously. "Y-yes sir," she chokes out.
  1731. 1731.
    >The quivering intensifies
  1732. 1732.
    >not just in her hindquarters now, but rippling up her spine like telegraph wires in a gale.
  1733. 1733.
    >already anticipating what's coming...
  1734. 1734.
     
  1735. 1735.
    >"No reaching back," you warn, drawing the switch back. "Keep that naughty little bottom right up in the air where it belongs."
  1736. 1736.
    >The command lands like a physical blow; Apple Bloom's hind legs instinctively clamp together with a whimper.
  1737. 1737.
    >"Y-yes sir," she repeats, the words dissolving into a shuddering exhale as she arches her spine higher, presenting herself with trembling obedience.
  1738. 1738.
    >Her tail lifts another fraction...
  1739. 1739.
    >not in coyness, but in desperate compliance
  1740. 1740.
    >exposing the full, round curve of her doomed cheeks.
  1741. 1741.
     
  1742. 1742.
    >You let the moment stretch, savoring her ragged breathing, the way her muscles twitch under gleaming coat, how her ears flatten completely against her skull.
  1743. 1743.
    >The switch's tip traces lazy circles just above her most sensitive crease, drawing fresh tremors...
  1744. 1744.
     
  1745. 1745.
    >Then... **SSSSSTHWICK!**
  1746. 1746.
    >it bites deep into her right cheek.
  1747. 1747.
    >Apple Bloom's entire body convulses violently.
  1748. 1748.
    >"GYAHHH!" she yelps, hind legs kicking backward in a wild scissor motion before she remembers herself and forces them still.
  1749. 1749.
    >Tears already bead at the corners of her eyes as she digs her hooves into the couch cushions, clutching desperately at the fabric.
  1750. 1750.
     
  1751. 1751.
    >The second stroke, on the left cheek this time, lands hotter and lower, flicking deliberately under the curve.
  1752. 1752.
    >Apple Bloom's head snaps back with a choked sob, her forelegs nearly sliding off the cushions
  1753. 1753.
    >nearly reaching back... but the stop themselves
  1754. 1754.
    >Her tail lashes wildly once... twice... then goes rigidly still, held aloft by sheer force of will even as her buttocks clench involuntarily, the fresh welts already rising like twin brands.
  1755. 1755.
     
  1756. 1756.
    >**THWIP!**
  1757. 1757.
    >The third strike catches her dead center, splitting the difference with surgical precision.
  1758. 1758.
    >Tears finally spill as Apple Bloom's composure shatters, her legs cross and uncross spasmodically, her hips bucking in tiny, helpless jerks.
  1759. 1759.
    >But she doesn't reach back.
  1760. 1760.
    >She doesn't even beg.
  1761. 1761.
    >Just shudders and presents herself anew as the switch lifts again, her dark pink skin now mottled with angry scarlet stripes that seem to almost pulse in time with her hitched breaths.
  1762. 1762.
     
  1763. 1763.
    >**CRACK!**
  1764. 1764.
    >This one lands diagonally across the first three welts, intersecting them like a cruel game of tic-tac-toe.
  1765. 1765.
    >Apple Bloom's entire body bows upward with a scream as the sting blooms outward in radiating waves
  1766. 1766.
    >Her flanks quivering like gelatin left out in the sun
  1767. 1767.
    >each swat creating tiny ridges of fur along each perfectly straight welt.
  1768. 1768.
     
  1769. 1769.
    >You make her wait.
  1770. 1770.
    >Count the seconds.
  1771. 1771.
    >Let her feel the heat building between strokes, the way her punished flesh tightens almost audibly.
  1772. 1772.
    >Apple Bloom's nostrils flare with each panicked inhale, her damp bangs sticking to her forehead as she twists her head to peek back at you with one watering eye.
  1773. 1773.
    >The moment she meets your gaze...
  1774. 1774.
    >**SWISH-CRACK!**
  1775. 1775.
    >another stripe blooms just above her sit-spots, making her slam her face back into the cushions with a muffled howl.
  1776. 1776.
     
  1777. 1777.
    >Her legs piston uselessly now, as if she could somehow kick away the pain.
  1778. 1778.
    >Every welt glows under the overhead lights, the switch's work so precise you could measure them with a ruler.
  1779. 1779.
     
  1780. 1780.
    >Her breathing comes in ragged gulps, but she holds position
  1781. 1781.
    >You pause to admire the bowed curve of her back, the way her shoulders tremble with suppressed sobs while her hindquarters remain perfectly presented.
  1782. 1782.
    >No filly this age should have such discipline...or such a spankable backside!
  1783. 1783.
     
  1784. 1784.
    >The switch flicks out again, this time stinging the very crest of her cheeks where skin is tightest.
  1785. 1785.
    >Apple Bloom's whole body jerks forward with a sound halfway between a squeal and a gasp, her hooves briefly leaving the cushions entirely before she crashes back down.
  1786. 1786.
    >But still she doesn't reach back... just digs in, her tail twitching like a metronome set to allegro.
  1787. 1787.
     
  1788. 1788.
    >Another lash lands horizontally across the previous ones, and this time her obedience cracks just enough for a single hoof to fly back but she catches herself mid-motion, slamming it against the armrest instead with a audible *thump*.
  1789. 1789.
     
  1790. 1790.
    >"OWWWW!!"
  1791. 1791.
    >Tears drip freely now, pattering onto the couch like summer rain, but her flanks stay lifted, quivering and crimson and utterly defeated.
  1792. 1792.
     
  1793. 1793.
    >**SWISH-THWACK!**
  1794. 1794.
    >The switch bites again, lower now, where her thighs meet her sit-spots
  1795. 1795.
    >that sweet, sweet spot that always makes fillies dance
  1796. 1796.
    >Apple Bloom's legs scissor wildly, bucking her hips upward with a garbled shriek
  1797. 1797.
    >The welt rises instantly, a perfect white line that floods scarlet within seconds
  1798. 1798.
    >Her tail lashes once, a final, futile attempt at defiance
  1799. 1799.
    >before drooping limply over her back like a white flag of surrender.
  1800. 1800.
     
  1801. 1801.
    >You pause just long enough to watch sweat glisten down the cleft of her trembling cheeks, droplets catching on the raised welts before sliding downward. Then...
  1802. 1802.
    >**SSSSWIT!** Apple Bloom's entire body bows violently, her scream dissolving into hiccupping nonsense as fresh tears splatter the fabric beneath her muzzle.
  1803. 1803.
     
  1804. 1804.
    >Her legs kick in erratic circles now, like a drowning filly trying to find purchase, but the position holds
  1805. 1805.
    >those Apple family stubborn genes ensuring her hindquarters stay raised even as her mind fractures under the pain.
  1806. 1806.
    >The switch rises once more, humming through the air like a vengeful hornet, once again aiming for the crease where bottom meets thigh...
  1807. 1807.
     
  1808. 1808.
    >**THWIP-CRACK!**
  1809. 1809.
    >The sound splits the kitchen air sharper than a whip, making Scootaloo jump in her corner and Sweetie Belle whimper into her hooves.
  1810. 1810.
    >Apple Bloom's entire body spasms violently
  1811. 1811.
    >her back arches like a drawn bowstring
  1812. 1812.
    >but the worst...or perhaps best... part is the sound: a raw, guttural sob ripped from her chest like she's being flayed alive.
  1813. 1813.
     
  1814. 1814.
    >Her legs collapse inward, knees knocking together reflexively as the welt rises
  1815. 1815.
    >a perfect, puffy ridge of fire that makes her previous stripes look pale in comparison.
  1816. 1816.
    >Tears and snot slick the couch beneath her, her entire body trembling like a leaf in a hurricane, but still...
  1817. 1817.
    >still that stubborn rump stays lifted, quivering and welted and shining with sweat like some perverse offering.
  1818. 1818.
     
  1819. 1819.
    >You exhale through your nose, tracing the newest welt with the switch’s tip
  1820. 1820.
    >watching gooseflesh erupt in its wake.
  1821. 1821.
    >Apple Bloom barely reacts... just a muffled whimper, her flanks twitching like a dreaming dog’s
  1822. 1822.
    >but she holds position.
  1823. 1823.
    >It’s almost infuriating how well she takes it, how despite the tears and the screams, she’s still clinging to some scrap of pride Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle lost in the first five swats.
  1824. 1824.
     
  1825. 1825.
    >**CRACK!**
  1826. 1826.
    >You put your shoulder into this one, aiming for the untouched patch right where her thighs meet her cheeks
  1827. 1827.
    >the kind of spot that makes fillies forget their own names.
  1828. 1828.
    >Apple Bloom’s hind legs snap straight out like she’s been electrocuted
  1829. 1829.
    >her scream fractures into something animalistic
  1830. 1830.
    >but when the shock passes, she tucks them back under herself, tail flicking
  1831. 1831.
    >not in defiance, but in exhausted obedience.
  1832. 1832.
     
  1833. 1833.
    >Your teeth grind.
  1834. 1834.
    >She’s *good*.
  1835. 1835.
    >Too good.
  1836. 1836.
    >Even now, with her backside looking switched to Tartarus, she’s taking it better than any filly her age should.
  1837. 1837.
    >You can practically see the Apple family stubbornness calcifying in her spine, turning each sob into something earned rather than surrendered.
  1838. 1838.
    >It’s admirable...
  1839. 1839.
    >And frustrating.
  1840. 1840.
     
  1841. 1841.
    >Your fingers twitch towards her tail...
  1842. 1842.
    >not to punish, but to *claim*.
  1843. 1843.
    >The moment your grip tightens around its base, Apple Bloom *gasps*, her entire body tensing like a bowstring.
  1844. 1844.
    >"N-no! I-I’m sorry! I’ll stay still, I *promise*!" she babbles, her voice cracking wetly as she twists her head to peek back at you, her amber eyes wide with fresh panic.
  1845. 1845.
    >Her hindquarters quiver violently, the welts glistening under a sheen of sweat that makes them look almost polished.
  1846. 1846.
     
  1847. 1847.
    >You pause, letting her dread simmer, then *tsk* darkly.
  1848. 1848.
    >"Too late, little miss. You’ve been wiggling this naughty bottom all over the place."
  1849. 1849.
    >You give her tail a sharp, deliberate *tug*
  1850. 1850.
    >not enough to hurt, but enough to make her squeak.
  1851. 1851.
    >"So I’m gonna hold it *right* where it belongs... while I finish your switching proper."
  1852. 1852.
     
  1853. 1853.
    >Apple Bloom’s breath hitches, her forelegs scrambling uselessly against the couch cushions as she realizes what’s coming.
  1854. 1854.
    >"P-please—" she starts, but the plea dissolves into a shuddering wail as you lift the switch high, its shadow flickering across her ravaged cheeks like a guillotine’s blade.
  1855. 1855.
    >Her tail trembles in your grasp, its fur damp with sweat and tears, as she presses her muzzle into the fabric and *braces*.
  1856. 1856.
     
  1857. 1857.
    >The sight is almost poetic—this stubborn little filly, her flanks striped scarlet yet still quivering in submission, her hooves digging trenches into the cushions as if she could somehow anchor herself against the storm.
  1858. 1858.
    >Her bravery is *adorable*, the way she sniffles and clenches her jaw, refusing to fully beg even as her bottom twitches like a rabbit’s nose, silently pleading for mercy.
  1859. 1859.
    >You almost want to praise her... right before you paint her backside raspberry-red with fresh welts.
  1860. 1860.
     
  1861. 1861.
    >**THWICK!**
  1862. 1862.
    >The switch lands with surgical precision, splitting the space between the diagonal stripes
  1863. 1863.
    >Apple Bloom’s entire body bends up like a drawn longbow
  1864. 1864.
    >Her wailing fractures into breathless, hiccupping sobs as the welt rises instantly
  1865. 1865.
    >a perfect ridge of fire
  1866. 1866.
     
  1867. 1867.
    >**THWIP!**
  1868. 1868.
    >The next stroke bites lower, right where her sit-spots meet trembling thighs, and her legs *piston* outward in a wild, instinctive kick before crumpling inward like a dying insect’s.
  1869. 1869.
    >Tears sluice down her cheeks, pooling beneath her muzzle as she finally *breaks*, her entire form collapsing into shuddering, defeated sobs
  1870. 1870.
    >but her hindquarters stay raised, held aloft by your iron grip on her tail.
  1871. 1871.
     
  1872. 1872.
    >**SWISH-CRACK!**
  1873. 1873.
    >The switch hums through the air like a vengeful hornet, landing dead-center with a sound that makes Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle whimper in their corners
  1874. 1874.
    >Apple Bloom doesn’t even really buck this time
  1875. 1875.
    >just *whines*, a high, reedy sound like a teakettle left too long on the stove, her flanks twitching in exhausted, tearful submission.
  1876. 1876.
     
  1877. 1877.
    >You pause, admiring the way her backside almost now *glistens* with sweat
  1878. 1878.
    >every welt a perfect, throbbing stripe, her coat damp with sweat and tears, the cleft of her cheeks quivering
  1879. 1879.
    >Her tail trembles in your grasp, with no signs of resistance left as she sniffles into the couch cushions, utterly spent...
  1880. 1880.
    >but still presenting that butt.
  1881. 1881.
     
  1882. 1882.
    >Your pulse thrums in your ears, drowning out rational thought
  1883. 1883.
    >she’s taken enough, she’s learned her lesson, >she’s *broken*
  1884. 1884.
    >but your hand raises the switch again anyway, drawn like a moth to the hypnotic sway of her inflamed flesh.
  1885. 1885.
    >The welts ripple as she shudders, her thighs slick with sweat, her sit-spots pulsing with each ragged inhale...
  1886. 1886.
    >and you *need* to see them ripple
  1887. 1887.
    >maybe just one more time...
  1888. 1888.
     
  1889. 1889.
    >**SSSWACK!**
  1890. 1890.
    >The switch lands with brutal precision just below the crest of her cheeks, making her *jolt* violently, her legs spasming in midair before collapsing limply against the couch.
  1891. 1891.
    >Apple Bloom whimpers, her voice hoarse, her hindquarters twitching in exhausted, automatic response
  1892. 1892.
    >like a puppet whose strings you’ve frayed but not yet severed.
  1893. 1893.
     
  1894. 1894.
    >You exhale sharply through your nose, fingers tightening around her tail as the switch rises *again*, your vision tunneling to the sight of her ravaged backside
  1895. 1895.
    >the way it jiggles with each hitched sob, the welts darkening to a vulgar, swollen crimson, the sweat dripping down her thighs...
  1896. 1896.
    >You’re addicted
  1897. 1897.
    >And she’s too broken to even protest as your arm pulls back for another stroke...
  1898. 1898.
     
  1899. 1899.
    >spank...after spank... after stinging, brutal SPANK slashes across her blistered buttcheeks
  1900. 1900.
    >Ok, maybe NOT just one more time...
  1901. 1901.
    >Apple Bloom is simply a sobbing mess, just steadily crying her cute little eyes out
  1902. 1902.
    >positively broken-willed, her whole world consumed by the relentless burning in her bottom
  1903. 1903.
    >yet...
  1904. 1904.
    >**THHWICK, THHHWICK, THHHWICK, THHHWICK...**
  1905. 1905.
     
  1906. 1906.
    >Some part of you understands deep down that you cannot keep this up forever
  1907. 1907.
    >The weeping and slumped over, sweaty and exhausted, blistered and crimson-butted little filly
  1908. 1908.
    >firmly held in place by your hand around her tail
  1909. 1909.
    >...she's had enough. Definitely.
  1910. 1910.
    >You know that.
  1911. 1911.
    >You know that...
  1912. 1912.
     
  1913. 1913.
    >...
  1914. 1914.
    >...**THHHWICKTHHHWICKTHHHWICKTHHHWICKTHHHWICKTHHHWICKTHHWICK...**
  1915. 1915.
     
  1916. 1916.
    >"AAAAAAAAOOOOOOOWWWWWWW!!!""
  1917. 1917.
    >Apple Bloom can do nothing but simply wail at the top of her lungs
  1918. 1918.
    >as her poor, flaming bottom absorbs the most relentless, impossible to tolerate, LASHING
  1919. 1919.
    >the switch is a blur as it swings back and forth
  1920. 1920.
    >delivering at least one swat per second
  1921. 1921.
     
  1922. 1922.
    >"NnnYAAAHHH! AOOOWWW, NNNAAAAHHH OWWWWOWWWAAAAHHH!"
  1923. 1923.
    >Apple Bloom, despite her exhaustion, has all her nerves awakened at once
  1924. 1924.
    >she starts to shake and hoofy kick once more, and her hips start to shift and squirm
  1925. 1925.
    >wriggling her naughty butt in small agonized circles
  1926. 1926.
    >tail dock spasming
  1927. 1927.
     
  1928. 1928.
    >You keep spanking
  1929. 1929.
    >and spanking...
  1930. 1930.
    >and spanking...
  1931. 1931.
    >in a trance, hypnotized by the dancing red rump in front of you
  1932. 1932.
     
  1933. 1933.
    >...until you feel the weight of the switch suddenly lighten in your grasp.
  1934. 1934.
    >**THHWICK-crack!**
  1935. 1935.
     
  1936. 1936.
    >Before you can process it, the top half of the switch clatters to the floorboards
  1937. 1937.
    >its splintered end jagged and raw where the wood grain tore apart under relentless force.
  1938. 1938.
    >The remaining piece in your hand unravels like wet parchment, bark peeling away in limp ribbons
  1939. 1939.
    >revealing the pale, fibrous sinews beneath.
  1940. 1940.
    >Apple Bloom’s sobbing continues uninterrupted, her body still tensed for another stroke...
  1941. 1941.
    >another stroke that will never come.
  1942. 1942.
     
  1943. 1943.
    >Silence floods the kitchen, thick and disorienting.
  1944. 1944.
    >Sweat drips from your brow onto the ruined switch as you blink down at it
  1945. 1945.
    >your fingers twitch around the frayed remains as you stare at it like you’ve just woken from a trance.
  1946. 1946.
     
  1947. 1947.
    >The sight of Apple Bloom’s ravaged backside swims into focus
  1948. 1948.
    >her inflamed scarlet stripes seemingly pulsing with each shuddering sob
  1949. 1949.
    >her body slick with sweat
  1950. 1950.
    >her entire hindquarters quivering like a plucked guitar string.
  1951. 1951.
    >Her tail trembles limply in your grasp, its fur damp and tangled
  1952. 1952.
     
  1953. 1953.
    >Alright.
  1954. 1954.
    >Now, the spanking is finally over.
  1955. 1955.
    >You've had your fun...
  1956. 1956.
    >for now...
  1957. 1957.
     
  1958. 1958.
    >"Alright," you murmur
  1959. 1959.
    >your voice scrapes your throat raw
  1960. 1960.
    >like you haven’t spoken in hours.
  1961. 1961.
    >The realization shudders through her when you finally release her tail
  1962. 1962.
    >letting her hips fall with a "whump" on the couch arm
  1963. 1963.
    >tail drooping over her welted cheeks like a wilted flag.
  1964. 1964.
    >She doesn’t move
  1965. 1965.
    >just stays slumped there, her breath hitching between exhausted whimpers.
  1966. 1966.
     
  1967. 1967.
    >"Ok Apple Bloom," you say simply, "It is time for you to go to the corner now."
  1968. 1968.
    >the words are too heavy for the air between you.
  1969. 1969.
    >you even see Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle peek over their shoulders from their own corners
  1970. 1970.
    >their eyes round with horrified awe.
  1971. 1971.
    >Apple Bloom sniffles once
  1972. 1972.
    >twice
  1973. 1973.
    >then...
  1974. 1974.
     
  1975. 1975.
    >"Y-Yesss s-s-sirrrr..."
  1976. 1976.
     
  1977. 1977.
    >slides bonelessly off the armrest
  1978. 1978.
    >her legs folding under her like a newborn foal’s as she staggers upright.
  1979. 1979.
    >Her gait is a drunken stumble
  1980. 1980.
    >her hindquarters twitching with every step
  1981. 1981.
    >her hooves hesitating as if the floor might burn her.
  1982. 1982.
     
  1983. 1983.
    >When she reaches the corner
  1984. 1984.
    >she presses her forehead to the wallpaper with a quiet, defeated sob
  1985. 1985.
    >her blistered backside on full display beneath her limp tail.
  1986. 1986.
    >The welts glow under the kitchen lights
  1987. 1987.
    >each one a perfect, throbbing testament to her suffering
  1988. 1988.
    >her obedience
  1989. 1989.
    >...her stubbornness.
  1990. 1990.
    >her hooves flexing against the floorboards like she’s still bracing for impact.
  1991. 1991.
    >And you?
  1992. 1992.
    >You flex your empty hand
  1993. 1993.
    >still feeling the ghost of the switch’s weight
  1994. 1994.
    >and turn toward the remaining fillies
  1995. 1995.
    >your shadow stretching long across their trembling forms.
  1996. 1996.
     
  1997. 1997.
    >"Eyes *forward*, girls" you remind them.
  1998. 1998.
    >you watch Sweetie Belle’s ears flatten like a dog caught stealing scraps.
  1999. 1999.
    >Scootaloo, ever the defiant one, risks one last glance over her shoulder
  2000. 2000.
    >her wide eyes darting from Apple Bloom’s ruined backside to your face
  2001. 2001.
    >and something in your expression makes her swallow audibly before snapping her gaze forward again.
  2002. 2002.
    >The silence stretches, broken only by the occasional sniffle or hitched breath
  2003. 2003.
    >and you let it
  2004. 2004.
    >letting them marinate in the aftermath.
  2005. 2005.
     
  2006. 2006.
    >Your fingers drum once against your thigh
  2007. 2007.
    >the rhythm syncopated with the subtle *clench-twitch* of Apple Bloom’s welted cheeks as she shifts her weight from hoof to hoof.
  2008. 2008.
    >Sweetie Belle’s tail dock twiches and her tail flicks, but her red buttocks are still prominently displayed
  2009. 2009.
    >Scootaloo's breath catches in a quiet, hiccupping gasp
  2010. 2010.
    >her little wings occasionally giving a flutter, and her hindlegs occasionally tippy tapping out the still lingering buuuurn on her poor buns
  2011. 2011.
     
  2012. 2012.
    >...They’re *beautiful* like this
  2013. 2013.
    >all three of them
  2014. 2014.
    >their punished cheeks glowing like embers in a dying fire...
  2015. 2015.
     
  2016. 2016.
    >The couch springs creak under your weight as you settle back
  2017. 2017.
    >the ghost of spent energy thrumming through your muscles like fading lightning.
  2018. 2018.
     
  2019. 2019.
    >Ten minutes
  2020. 2020.
    >you decide
  2021. 2021.
    >ten minutes to watch their agony settle into a simmering, throbbing ache
  2022. 2022.
    >to count every hitched breath and stifled whimper as their punished flesh tightens post-impact.
  2023. 2023.
    >Scootaloo’s legs begin an unconscious, alternating tippy-tap
  2024. 2024.
    >her scorched sit-spots clearly protesting even this minimal movement
  2025. 2025.
    >while Sweetie Belle’s hindquarters clench in adorable, rhythmic pulses
  2026. 2026.
    >Apple Bloom merely sniffles into the wallpaper
  2027. 2027.
    >her tail twitching every time a particularly sharp throb radiates from the welted crest of her cheeks down to her trembling thighs.
  2028. 2028.
     
  2029. 2029.
    >The clock ticks louder in your skull than on the wall
  2030. 2030.
    >each passing second stretching like taffy as fillies fidget and you feast.
  2031. 2031.
    >Sweetie Belle risks a tiny, sidelong glance toward Apple Bloom
  2032. 2032.
    >her tear-streaked face morphing into something between sympathy and horrified fascination at the state of Apple Bloom’s striped backside
  2033. 2033.
    >only to jerk forward again when you clear your throat pointedly.
  2034. 2034.
    >Scootaloo’s wings give a final, pitiful flutter before stilling
  2035. 2035.
    >her own scorched cheeks dimpling as she rises onto the tips of her hooves for half a second of blessed relief... then collapses back down with a muted squeak.
  2036. 2036.
     
  2037. 2037.
    >...six minutes left...five... four... three... two...
  2038. 2038.
    >one...
  2039. 2039.
     
  2040. 2040.
    >"Alright." The word slices through the kitchen’s tension like a dull butter knife
  2041. 2041.
    >final... and reluctant.
  2042. 2042.
    >All three fillies stiffen, their ears swiveling toward you in unison
  2043. 2043.
    >their tails lifting, their crimson cheeks trembling with anticipation.
  2044. 2044.
    >"Your punishments are over, young fillies."
  2045. 2045.
     
  2046. 2046.
    The collective exhale that follows is almost comically synchronized
  2047. 2047.
    >three high-pitched, shuddering gasps that dissolve into a chorus of exhausted moans
  2048. 2048.
    >Sweetie Belle is the first to break, her hooves flying back to clutch at her scorched flanks with a noise somewhere between a sob and a squeak, her hind legs crossing and uncrossing as she rubs in frantic, circular motions. >Scootaloo follows suit, her wings flaring wide as she dances in place, her hooves alternating between frantic rubs and dramatic stomps like she’s trying to put out a fire between her thighs.
  2049. 2049.
     
  2050. 2050.
    >Apple Bloom doesn’t move at first
  2051. 2051.
    >just stands there, her forehead still pressed to the wallpaper, her tail twitching like a dying moth.
  2052. 2052.
    >Then, with a sniffle, she slowly, painfully peels herself from the corner
  2053. 2053.
    >her hind legs wobbling as her hooves creep back to graze the swollen welts crisscrossing her backside
  2054. 2054.
    >The moment her trembling touch makes contact, her whole body jerks sideways with a sharp gasp
  2055. 2055.
    >her knees buckling as she collapses into a half-crouch, rubbing her ruined cheeks with the gingerly reverence of a pony handling shattered glass.
  2056. 2056.
     
  2057. 2057.
    >You watch, transfixed, as the three of them devolve into a symphony of pitiful whimpers and hissed "owies,"
  2058. 2058.
    >their hooves working overtime to soothe the unbearable heat radiating from their spanked flesh.
  2059. 2059.
    >Scootaloo’s rubbing turns into full-blown kneading, her wings fluttering with each desperate press
  2060. 2060.
    >Sweetie Belle...ever the drama queen...starts blowing on her own hooves between rubs
  2061. 2061.
    >as if her own touch were too scalding to bear.
  2062. 2062.
    >Apple Bloom just rocks slightly on her haunches, her amber eyes squeezed shut
  2063. 2063.
    >her teeth gritted as she alternates between furious rubbing and pained whimpering, her tail lashing like an agitated cat’s.
  2064. 2064.
     
  2065. 2065.
    >It’s a beautiful mess.
  2066. 2066.
    >three thoroughly spanked fillies, doing the most adorable little show... hnnng...
  2067. 2067.
    >And yet, as you lean back against the couch, savoring the tableau, a single, traitorous thought slithers into your mind:
  2068. 2068.
    >*How long until they earn another one?*

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