Bloomin' Spoonin' by KrishnaKarnak 
(Granny Smith / Apple Bloom)
F/f, wooden spoon, over chair, non-consensual

(27/01/2014)

https://desuarchive.org/mlp/thread/15905561/#q15930445

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>Granny Smith is looking for her granddaughter.
>Half-Pint has her share of chores today.
>Kitchen floor needs mopping.
>Empty cider barrels gotta be stacked up behind the barn in preparation for Cider Day.
>Barn needs to be swept.
>The hen house needs cleaning.
>Applejack needs a hoof bucking the harvest and pulling the wagon.
>And ploughing the field.
>The pigs gotta be fed their slop.
>Big Macintosh’s ribs are bruised since he took a tumble down a muddy hill bringing a cart to market during a rainstorm, so he can’t help.
>Granny Smith drags her tired old frame up those stairs.
>Granny Smith checks all the bedrooms, nopony there but Big Mac.
>Apple Bloom’s bedroom is a total mess.
“Where is that slackin’ filly?”
>Looks all over the house, but Apple Bloom is MIA.
>She finds her outside of the house, stretched out under a tree.
>With a piece of wheat between her teeth and wearing Applejack’s stetson, having pulled it low over her eyes to obscure her vision from that hot sun.
>Apple Bloom slaps it away from her face when she hears approaching hooves on the soft grass
“Hey, Granny Smith!”
>Apple Bloom speaks cheerfully and holds a foreleg over her face to block that
sun.
“Pull up a bit o’ grass’n join me. Boy, it’s a hot one!”
>Granny Smith narrows her eyes
”Yer darn tootin’ it’s a hot one, young lady! Ah’ve been lookin’ all over fer ya!”
>Granny bends low to put her closer to Apple Bloom’s face.
“Y’all got chores to attend to, young’n.” 
“Oh, shoot!”
>Apple Bloom sighs, sits up straighter against the tree and slaps a hoof to her face.
“Ah’m so sorry, Granny Smith! Ah forgot all about that!”
>Granny gives her a warm smile.
“It ain’t nothin’, Half-Pint. Jes’ do yer chores quick and ya can laze under this tree ‘til the cows come home.”
>Apple Bloom gets told her list of chores, her face falling with every word.
“But nopony but me sees mah room! Ah ain’t gotta clean that...”
“Yer gonna do as yer told, missy, unless ya wanna good switchin’, or sommat.”
>Apple Bloom sighs theatrically, but winces at the last part. She ain’t never had the switch before, and doesn’t want to start now.
“Eeyup!”
>Granny Smith leaves
>Apple Bloom’s fear recedes quickly.
>Granny Smith never disciplines, so she was safe.
>Apple Bloom is again lying under that tree, wheat back in her mouth, hat back over her eyes
“Apple Bloom!”
>Her head pops up again, the hat again falling to the grass.
“Gallopin’ griffons, y’all scared me, AJ!”
“Can I have mah hat back yet?”
>Applejack has sweat all over her counterance and looks exhausted.
>Apple Bloom pulls a very serious face.
“Granny Smith jes’ gave me four hundred chores! Ah need it or I’m gonna die of sun stroke!”
>Applejack rolls her eyes.
“Fine, fine… but Ah’m gettin’ that back today!”
>Apple Bloom waves her off and gets back to slouchin’.
“Got four hundred chores, eh?”
“Ah’m takin’ a break ‘fore ah get to ‘em!”
“Alright, but remember, ya gotta help me stack those barrels and pull that cart to market.”
“Ah will, Sis!”
>Applejack leaves.
>Finally, peace and quiet!
>Apple Bloom crosses her forehooves behind her head and opts for a short nap.
>Some time passes
>Applejack continues doing her backbreaking work
>Granny Smith finds her own jobs to take care of
>Big Macintosh deals with the farm finances
>Apple Bloom counts sheep
>She's prodded awake.
>Lifts the hat off her eyes and finds Scootaloo grinning down at her.
>She smiles back and gets to her hoofs, finding Sweetie Belle there, too.
>Sweetie Belle walks closer.
“Hey, Apple Bloom! Sugarcube Corner is giving out free samples of a new type of fudge! And we can do some Crusading!”
“Awesome!”
>Apple Bloom slaps the stetson back onto her head and runs off into town, leading the way excitedly.
>She forgot the chores.
>They reach the sweetshop, dodge around Pinkie, who's gorging herself, and get fudge.
>Then they get milkshakes, too.
>Apple Bloom set the stetson down on the table, sick of wearing it.
>They leave the shop, and the hat, behind.
>They crusade around Ponyville.
>Tree sap.
>Apple Bloom is exhausted after several hours, with the heat and the fun she’s having with her best friends.
“Ah better head home! Phew, I’m goin’ to bed.”
>Bids her friends goodbye and casually strolls toward the farm, occasionally breaking into a skip.
>Doesn’t see Granny Smith standing outside of the house, brow furrowed, leaning back against the door, tapping a hoof on the ground.
“APPLE BLOOM!”
>Apple Bloom freezes, feeling her butt clench.
>She remembers, now.
>Uh oh, she knows she’s in for it, now.
>She’s probably going to get that switch!
>Doesn’t want to think about the feeling of a nice birch twig swishing viciously against her flanks.
>Biting into her flesh…
“GET YER RUMP INTO THE HOUSE THIS INSTANT, HALF-PINT!”
>With a terrified squeak, Apple Bloom bolts toward the door and runs into the house.
>Granny follows her in.
>Apple Bloom is in the hallway, looks back toward her grandmother with apologetic eyes.
“Go on, git! Into the kitchen, Apple Bloom.”
>The kitchen?
>Apple Bloom obeys and marches into the Apple Family’s little kitchen.
>Ominously, there’s a chair sitting in the middle of the floor.
>Excuses and alibis race each other through her mind.
>Apple Bloom wraps her tail around her blank flank, ears drooping along with her head as she sits on the floor, totally giving up the fight then and there.
>She’s gonna get it, good.
>Granny Smith comes up behind her.
“Sit!”
>Oh, thank Celestia! It’s just a lecture!
>Apple Bloom scrambles onto the seat and turns to face the glowering matriarch of the family.
>”Do y’all recall me tellin’ ya that there were chores that needed doin’?”
>Apple Bloom nods slowly, looking at the floor.
“Answer me, Apple Bloom.”
“Yes, Granny Smith. Ah’m sorry...”
“Ah mopped the floor myself. Weren’t you supposed to do that?”
>Apple Bloom gulps.
“Yes, Granny Smith...”
“Ah fed the pigs’n swept the barn! Ah wiped down the chicken coop! Ah couldn’t stack the barrels or help Applejack in the fields because my old back an’ hip ain’t what they once was! Didn’t Ah ask ya to do that? Y’all got more strength in yer little body than in my tired old frame!”
>Apple Bloom is starting to feel pretty bad about all of this. She can’t look at her grandmother.
>Granny had to do all of her chores, which had to be a million times harder for an old mare than a spirited young fully.
“Y-yes, Granny Smith… Ah’m so sorry! really, I—”
“Yer brother can’t help Applejack none, bein’ in so much pain he can’t barely move none! All day ploughin’ and buckin’, she was! Never had a chance to get out to town’n sell the harvest.”
>Apple Bloom gives a little sniff.
>Maybe a lecture isn’t that great after all.
“And… Ah notice ya haven’t got Applejack’s hat with ya. Where is it, Half-Pint?”
>Her granddaughter is silent, shocked.
“Apple Bloom?”
“Ah lost it, Granny! I dunno where I left it!”
>Now Granny Smith is silent for a moment.
“Yer s-sister… Apple Bloom, she’s gonna be devastated. That was yer Pa’s.”
>The old mare’s voice is hollow like a storm cloud.
>Tears are stinging the filly’s eyes.
>Granny Smith is still taken aback by the news and clearly shaken, but is able to recover herself.
>He was still her son, though.
“Ah suppose y’all went out with yer friends and ‘Crusaded’, huh?”
>Apple Bloom is still sniffling.
“Y-yes, Granny S-Smith…”
>She can hear Granny Smith moving, the hooves clopping the glossy floor.
“We can talk to Applejack after. Fer now, y’all deserve this, don’tcha?”
>Apple Bloom looks up.
>Granny Smith had picked up the wooden spoon from the countertop.
“Y-y-yes, G-G-Granny…”
“Naughty fillies who don’t do what they’re told get sore tushies. Ah’m very disappointed in yer actions’n attitude today, and Ah wantcha to get up’n bend over that chair. Yer gettin’ a lacin’ ya won’t soon ferget and maybe then y’all will take yer responsibilities seriously.”
>Apple Bloom’s eyes are blinded by tears.
>She nods.
>Almost dreamlike, Bloom slips off of the chair.
>Granny Smith watches sternly as she moves around to the side and crawls over it obediently.
>She makes no effort to overturn her sentence.
>Apple Bloom knows there’s no chance and feels she earned it anyway.
>Her front hooves rest against the legs on the chair’s right side while her back hang limply off the left.
>Her limbs are already shaking with fear and apprehension.
>Tears are still swimming in her eyes.
>This is going to hurt!
>Granny Smith sits on her hindquarters in front of the chair.
>Bloom’s low enough to discipline from there.
>Using the spoon held carefully in her right hoof, she lifts the tail and pins it to Apple Bloom’s back with the left.
“Jes’ remember that yer always gonna be my little Half-Pint. Yer Granny still loves ya, but she’s gotta punish ya.”
>Apple Bloom tries to nod, but is distracted as Granny Smith rubs her blank left flank with the spoon.
>Oh Celestia, let this be over with quic—
>Bloom’s thoughts are interrupted as the spoon leaves her fur and is swung out and back with a good, firm THWACK!
>Apple Bloom kicks out her left hind leg in response, head thrown back.
“Aaah!”
>Another thwack, just below the same spot.
“Ooow!”
“Sssh, sweetheart…”
>Third spank lands on the right side, in the middle of the cheek.
>Apple Bloom quickly learns that the small surface of a spoon makes spoon spankings particularly effective.
>All of the swing’s energy transferred neatly to one spot.
>Bites her lip, willing herself not to break down as a dull fire begins to build.
>Another smack, another buck of her legs.
>Apple Bloom wraps a foreleg around the chair leg in an effort to brace against the shock of those initial few hits.
>She holds up against three more thwacks of that spoon, all on different parts of her cheeks and flanks.
“P-p-please!”
>Squeezing her eyes tight, a single tear leaks out and cascades down her right cheek.
“Ah’m s-s-sorry, Granny!”
>Smack across the middle, the spoon barely touching either cheek.
>Granny Smith feels a twinge of regret for her granddaughter.
>They’re just getting started.
>More long, painful swings, painting dull pink spots all over Apple Bloom’s yellow backside.
>She’s squirming uncomfortably over that chair.
>Granny Smith applies additional pressure with her hoof, sitting up straighter and leaning forward a little.
>She’s connecting with the spoon every few seconds.
>None of the hits are very hard, but the spoon is just the best when it comes to minimum damage, maximum sting.
“Gra-aaa-aaa-nny!”
>Apple Bloom jerks at her tail for protection, but its pinned too tightly with the restraining hoof.
>Granny Smith’s rhythm of blows is steady, never the same spot twice.
>She’s starting to realize that her grandmother’s ability to tan a filly’s hide real good hasn’t skipped a beat, either.
“P-please! Ah’m sorry! Ah’m s-s-sorry!”
>Two dark tear-tracks stain Apple Bloom’s face, the tears dripping into her front hooves or the floor.
>Her butt is turning a nice, even pink.
>But it’s burning like the devil.
“Ah hope Ah get through to you, youngin…”
>It’s almost a whisper into Apple Bloom’s ear, barely audible over her sniffling and squeaks of pain.
“Everypony gotta play their part on this here farm…”
>Bloom is pounding her front hooves against the chair, face screwed up, tears falling freely.
“Young’n old…”
>It’s getting harder and harder to stop her hindquarters from kicking out with each painful smack, reigniting the venom of the previous thwack.
“And when somepony’s hurt, we all gotta try a li’l harder to keep things a-movin’. Ah know it’s hard doin’ extra chores, but we Apples adapt, hun. 
>Another smack of the spoon is delivered with every few word, some landing on the sensitive sit spots.
>Granny Smith has no idea if Apple Bloom can even comprehend the words, as her light sniffling is now a low bawl.
“Waaaah!”
>Bloom’s legs are kicking out too roughly, now, especially when the undercurve is hit.
>Granny stops the wider swings and decides to finish this off.
>The spoon falls vertically, away from her protesting hooves, straight down on target.
>The spanks come one after another, seemingly endless.
>Apple Bloom howls like a wounded dog, jerking her body, squirming, and miserable.
>It’s going on forever!
>She’s on fire!
>But the rapid spanks only last ten seconds.
>Felt like four hundred to Bloom.
>The moment Apple Bloom seems to be struggling to breath, Granny Smith stops.
>That’ll do.
>Granny Smith gets to her hooves properly as soon as Apple Bloom’s squirming dies down enough not to put her in danger of falling off the chair.
>She moves to the sink and throws in the spoon, turning toward the hallway and giving Apple Bloom some solitude to regain her composure.
>She just lies limply over the chair, tail dangling down on the side.
>Her butt is lightly tinted with red across the middle of both cheeks, where the rapid whacks landed.
>The rest is pink all over.
>The flames take a minute or two to die down.
>Apple Bloom’s breathing returns to normal.
>As she tries to control her crying, waves of guilt start to crash over her now that she has time to think about everything.
>She slacked off the whole day and her family suffered because of it.
>She lost the last gift the father she never knew gave the big sister she idolized.
>Whole family must hate her, now…
>Apple Bloom almost jumps when she feels a hoof against her head.
>She didn’t hear her Granny return.
>Granny picks Apple Bloom up gently and sits down with her, cuddling her granddaughter into her chest.
“We ain’t gonna dwell on this no longer, Apple Bloom.” 
>Bloom cries freely into Granny Smith’s shoulder, mumbling over and over.
“Ah’m sorry, Granny… Ah’m so sorry Ah messed up!”
“Hush now, it’s over with. Ah forgive ya, y’all learned your lesson.”
>These words are so amazing for the distraught filly to hear.
“Yer always gonna be Granny’s Half-Pint, an’ Ah still love ya to pieces.”
>She’s rocking Bloom gently in her embrace.
>Peppering her with face and forehead with kisses.
>Finally, Bloom’s able to stem the flow of tears.
>Granny wipes the excess and the snot from her muzzle with a small damp cloth Apple Bloom never realized she had brought with her.
>It’s very warm and soothing.
“An’... Apple Bloom?”
“Y-yes, Granny?”
“Ah saw Applejack’s friend Pinkie Pie with her when Ah passed the window. Ah think y’all left the hat at Sugarcube Corner.”
“You mean…?”
“Applejack’s got it, Half-Pint. Yer lucky! She woulda skinned ya alive!”
>Apple Bloom gives a watery chuckle, the relief flooding through her.
“Ah still wanna go apologize to her…”
>Granny lets her down gently.
“Y’all do what ya think is right.”
>Apple Bloom makes her way out into the back garden. Gingerly.
>Very small, careful movements!
>Applejack is waving Pinkie Pie off, leaning against a hoe and taking a well-deserved drink of cider that the Apples usually stored away all year for themselves.
“Sis?” 
>Applejack turns at her voice and gives her a loving smile.
>It’s clear that Applejack knows what went down.
>She taps the stetson, sweeps it off her head, and throws it to Apple Bloom, who catches it, looking startled.
>”Y’all can wear it again tomorrow, AB. Jes’ don’tcha lose it again!”
“Ah’m really sorry about that, Applejack.”
>Applejack approaches her and stoops low, placing a forehoof around her sister in a half-hug.
“It’s okay, AB! Ah only learned that ya lost it when Pinkie Pie gave it back to me, so Ah never got sad about it, if that’s what’s botherin’ ya.”
“Ah’m still sorry…”
“Ah know, hun.”
>Applejack takes the hat from her sister’s hooves and puts it on Apple Bloom’s head.
“Accidents happen, sugarcube. An’ I wouldn’t hate mah li’l sis over somethin’ like this! Y’all never knew the stallion who gave me that hat, but he taught me that mah family is more important than anything else, even a dusty old hat given by one of its members.”
>Apple Bloom smiles weakly.
“And sometimes we Apples forget ourselves and our responsibilities. Ah do all the time! But it don’t matter none when the day’s done, AB. Yer family will forgive ya. Never forgot that.”
>Bloom is starting to feel better already, but still so exhausted from the Crusading and the spanking.
“Thanks, Sis… Now Ah’m goin’ to bed… but Ah’m takin’ the hat with me!”
>Smirking and giving Applejack a quick hug, Apple Bloom makes her slow, awkward way back to the house.
>Applejack winces at the sight of her sister’s rosy behind.
>Looks like Granny Smith hasn’t missed a beat.
>Clenching her own butt involuntarily against a stem of fillyhood memories, Applejack returns to her drink.