Thunderlane's mother by Pan


                                            Thunderlane's mother by Pan


                                            (09/08/2016)


                                            https://desuarchive.org/mlp/thread/28021713/#q28114335


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                                            >Wow, Thunderlane, why did your egghead mom beat your rump?

                                            >I don't wanna talk about it.

                                            >Chicken! Chicken, chicken, chicken...

                                            (You have a song, dance, and sound effects).

                                            (Momma shows up, looking cross).

                                            >Anoncolt, that's no way to behave.

                                            >Whatever, whorse.

                                            You turn away from her and slap your own ass in defiance. Which gives her an idea...

                                            (Smack)

                                            >Ow! Hey! Leggo of me!

                                            Her left hoof and foreleg have your whole torso, (SPANK) including your wings, locked in a vicegrip (SPANK SPANK). You can't see behind you to your... ahem, behind (which is being (SMACK)ed silly by an angry mare right now), but you can see ahead of you: the cloud Thunderlane is pouting on like a foal is where you're being taken against your will. His reddened rear gets larger in your view as the repeated hoofspanks on your backside start to achieve their desired effect and loom larger in your mind. The pain on your naughty little bottom and Thunderlane's similarly-chastised caboose make it impossible to think about anything else, (SPANK SPANK SPANK), and you start to bawl like a newborn blankflank.


                                            Thunderlane's mother finishes the spanking and makes you sit side-to-side next to Thunderlane, two troublemaking tushes taken to task and tenderized. The cloud does little to soothe your pain as the sound of a camera flash immortalizes the moment. Later, you saw what you each looked like that day: two foals with discolored derrières in a side-hug of shared misfortune. The spank marks were the clearly visible focal point.


                                            The resulting photo adorned both of your families' living rooms well into the teenage years of both you and Thunderlane. They were a perfect snapshot of childhood innocence run amok; lasting proof that the two of you were not as big in your horseshoes as you thought you were, and that you two were never too far ahead from a heinie hide-tanning as long as your mothers were doing their jobs.


                                            All the conversations the pictures inevitably started finally ceased once you moved out and the pictures came down... only to reappear in albums at you and your friend's weddings.


                                            Now you're old enough to be dishing out spankings yourself. Thunderlane's filly was such a hoofful at your kid's birthday party that you used your adult-given power to send her home that night with a wine-red flank. Somehow, you knew Thunderlane would understand.