+++
title = "Swinging Your Hoof Down"
names = ["Zad"]
date = "2017-01-14 07:05:20"
tags = ["unf"]
spankers = ["Big Mac"]
spankees = ["Flora"]
posts = [""]
+++

Fluttershy shook her head, holding her chin in one hoof. McIntosh stood across from her with a cross frown on his face.


“I can’t let you, Mackie. I can’t let you do that to her…”


“Flutters, I know it’s hard. But every time I’m gone, she walks all over you. I know you’ve been trying to put your hoof down, dear, but it isn’t working. If I don’t, she’s just going to keep getting worse!”


Fluttershy wiped a tear out of her eye. She looked up the stairs of their house, looking through the wall at where her daughter’s bedroom was. She chewed on her lip.


“I just… can’t imagine doing that to her. I know other parents do it, but…”


“And it works, sweetheart. I promise you, it ain’t pleasant, but in cases like this, it WORKS.”


Fluttershy shook her head again, sighing deeply. She was trying hard to not cry.


“I just don’t want her to get hurt…”


Big McIntosh shook his head back at her, giving her a tiny, knowing smile. “It’s just her rump, Fluttershy. I promise you, I will not injure Flora.”


The room they were both standing in fell very quiet for a while. Fluttershy covered her mouth his her hoof and stared at the floor, thinking deeply. She glanced back up the stairs.


“So… it worked for you?”


Big McIntosh walked forward and nuzzled her, hugging her around her front. “Yes. For me, for Applejack, for Little Bloom, all of us. I promise you, when we needed it, we got it. And it worked.” 

He drew away and stood across from her again. Fluttershy breathed heavily. She sniffed, and wiped another tear away. Her eyes closed, and she sighed. When she opened them, her gaze toward her husband was intense.

“I still don’t want you to… but I’m not sure what else I can do. What we can do. I’ve grounded her, taken away toys, made her go to bed without dinner, but…” She choked back a sob, and trailed off the sentence.

McIntosh shook his head gravely, gritting his teeth. Both of them had slowly seen their 9 year old daughter, Flora, grow more and more badly behaved, much brattier, in the last many months. This was made worse now that Big McIntosh wasn’t home very much due to the harvest season being in full swing. Fluttershy was a kind, nurturing soul, but unfortunately, that also meant she was a little too gentle, too.

Something had to be done.

Fluttershy swallowed, and bowed her head. She nodded once. “Ok. Mackie… I trust you. I don’t like it, but… do what you need to.”

She sounded defeated. McIntosh picked up on her tone, and despite hearing her give him permission, he still wanted to make sure she was ok. “Flutter? Are you sure?”

He was surprised by how quickly she replied to him. “Yes. I’m sure, Mack. I trust you, I do, but… I-I can’t be in the house when it happens. I-I’ll go run some errands. I just can’t bear to hear… you know.”

She stood up straighter, trying to gussy up and sound more resolute. But it was clear that she was still not feeling good about all of this.

But then again, neither was McIntosh. But he knew that it would work, and that’s what drove him to do what he had to do.

He nodded his understanding to her, and kissed her on her lips. He ran his hoof down her cheek. 

“Ok, sweetie. It’ll be alright, I promise. Flora won’t like it, but things will be better here after this is over.” He kissed her again. “I love you.”

Fluttershy smiled, and leaned into his hoof on her cheek. She sighed. “I love you too, Mackie.”

A few minutes went by. Big McIntosh didn’t go upstairs as soon as Fluttershy went out the door, ears folded down and a tear still in her eye. Instead, he sat down for a minute, and took some deep breaths while he thought about and prepared for what he was going to say and do.

What Fluttershy had told him when he came home was enough to get his blood to simmer. His wife always meant well, and wished nothing but the best for her daughter, but it was becoming very clear that she had let Flora get away with far too much over too long a time period. Today, though, it went beyond that. Throwing something at his wife...

He couldn’t help but think back to his own growing up days. The parallels were uncanny. There was once a time when he had done his best to get away with as much as possible with his own mother, and over time it had gotten to become a habit. Until one day, however, when his mother had broken down, and told his father about what usually happened when he wasn’t home.

That night, his father hadn’t finished with him until long after the blisters appeared.

It may have sounded horrible, and he never would have admitted it to his wife, but… were it up to him, and only him, Flora would have been facing exactly the same fate tonight. But it wasn’t. He had to be more careful.

McIntosh was a stallion in control of himself, but tonight, he was truly angry. His wife didn’t deserve this. Flora had ignored, backsassed, and flat out disobeyed her for far too long, and he was going to make sure that tonight would never leave his daughter’s mind.

He sighed, and stood up, walking to the stairs. 

He knew Flora could hear him as he walked up. His hooves were heavy, and unfortunately for Flora, those same hooves were going to be applied to her rear end tonight.

McIntosh knocked on the door with the back of his hoof, listening closely. It took a moment before he heard anyone on the other side, but when he did, it was the voice of his daughter.

“Who i-is it?”

Big McIntosh answered with a low, booming voice, “Your father.”

There was no reply. He grabbed the doorknob, and nodded once in approval when it wasn’t locked. She knew better than to ever lock her door when she was sent to her room, and if it had been… it would have been even worse news for her. He swung the door open, and slid his large frame through the crack before closing it shut behind him.

And there she was, laying on her back on her bed. The pale blue filly’s forelegs were crossed over her chest, and her rear legs were stretched out below her. Her yellow tail lay flat between her legs over the blanket, giving her the appearance that she was relaxed. However, Big Mac could see how nervous she really was, as her body was tensed up as he entered the room.

She stared at the ceiling, not even turning to address him. Big McIntosh frowned down at her. He shook his head. 

She stared at the ceiling, not even turning to address him. Big McIntosh frowned down at her. He shook his head.

Flora huffed through her nose. Big Mac also noticed a roll of her eyes, something that made him grit his teeth together audibly.

Flora huffed again. She curled one of her hind legs up to her belly and turned her head away from him. “Look, I know that I…”

“Don’t you DARE say one more word, Flora. Not one.”

Big McIntosh rarely raised his voice. But when he did, it was enough to even to silence Flora. She stopped mid sentence with her mouth open, and she gasped with shock. Her ears fell down, and her eyes shot wide open.

Big McIntosh closed his eyes, and relaxed his jaw before he could lose himself. He couldn’t believe it. The first thing out of her mouth upon seeing him had been an attempt to sass him.

She had no idea what was coming her way. Big Mac took a deep breath, and then, he said with a lowered voice, “Flora, your behavior is going to end. Tonight.”

Flora’s ears twitched, and for the first time, her eyes darted over to him. But that moment of fear that was displayed clearly on her face, once again, faded away. She closed her, and sighed again.

“Ok, ok, I’m sorry, alright? I know I shouldn’t have taken the money from her bag, but my grades have been getting bet...”

Big Mac’s eyes, for a brief moment, widened into saucers. His teeth ground together again. Anything that Flora was starting to say, he didn’t even really hear.

He could hear his own heartbeat thump in his ears as he turned his head toward her vanity, set up in the corner of her room. His eyes burned.

Then, slowly and methodically, he walked over there. When his eyes locked onto the thing he was searching for, he reached out and picked it up.

Her hairbrush.

“...that wasn’t fair! I really wanted to go, but…”

SMACK! 

Flora’s entire body jolted, and a quiet ‘yip!’ escaped her before she fell totally silent. She finally, since the first time he had entered her room, lifted her head to face her father.


Big McIntosh held the hairbrush tightly in his hoof over her vanity table, which he had just struck with the flat side of the brush. He met Flora’s eyes with his own, and his gaze was the most intense she had ever seen it.


This time, any trace of defiance in her eyes was totally gone. McIntosh never took his eyes off of her as he spoke, voice shaking.


“Flora… did you know that your mother has been having trouble sleeping lately? Because she has.” His eyes were watering, but he blinked the tears away. His hoof grasped the hairbrush even tighter.


Flora, from the other side of the room, waited slackjawed for quite some time before she eventually shook her head, slowly and without a word. Big McIntosh nodded his head one time, affirming he had seen it, and took a deep breath.


“And you want to know why? Some nights, when you’re already in bed… she cries. I sometimes wake up and hear her crying next to me… trying to keep it quiet in the pillow…” He angrily swiped a tear out of his eye. “...And every time I ask... she wonders what she did wrong. Wonders why her own filly never listens to her anymore. Wonders what she could’ve done to make you so angry at her.” 

Flora, for once, said nothing. She could see the tears now trickling down her father’s face, and scarcely a breath even entered her lungs. McIntosh’s hoof was sweating as it hung on to the hairbrush.

“She’s hurting, Flora. WE’RE hurting. We love you, so much. We’ve tried taking away your dolls, grounding you, giving you extra chores… but nothing works.”

Flora’s face was blank. She stared at the wall beside her father’s head, but her ears were angled toward him, listening very closely to every word. Big McIntosh looked down at the brush in his hoof, and tossed it down at the end of her bed. Flora’s eyes saw it land on the blanket out of the corner of her eye, and she turned to look at it.

He once again turned his eyes toward her, the fire returning to them. “But tonight… that’s gonna change. For a while, now, I’ve tried to convince my wife to let me punish you in a different way… but she’s resisted it. She didn’t want me to do it, still doesn’t… but when you stole money from her bag today, snuck out with your friends to the movies, and then had the nerve, the NERVE, to yell at her when you got back… she gave me permission to do whatever I needed to do.”

Big Mac stepped forward, and closed the distance between himself and Flora, whose gaze was suddenly growing more nervous by the second. She had good reason to. Mac pointed at her with his hoof, and then jabbed it at the floor.

“And I will. Get up, Flora.”

He stared right at her, pointing at the floor. Flora, ears now pressed against her head, gripped the comforter tight, and her legs went rigid.

Big Mac was a soft spoken stallion. But right now, she had never seen him more angry at her.

She stammered, after a period of confused silence, “Wh-what, wh-why? What are you g-gonna…”

“I said, get. Up.” His voice left no room for debate. “I won’t warn you again.” 

Flora’s breathing got a lot faster, and slowly, she slid her body over the bed until she was at the edge. Looking away from him out of sheer nervousness, she tried to speak again with her tail tucked in between her legs.

“O-Ok, d-dad… wh-where’s mom? Is she...”

Unbelievable. Hoping that mom would pushover yet again and stop what was going to happen…

McIntosh shook his head. Flora stood shakily on the floor, and her confusion only grew when Big McIntosh instead sat up on the bed. He looked down at her gravely. “No. She’s running errands right now. She left because she didn’t want to hear this.”

Flora felt a chill run up her spine. Shivering, and looking wide eyed back up at him, she took a step back. “Uh… didn’t wanna hear wh-what? Daddy, what’re you...”

Big McIntosh reached out, and took a tight hold of her front leg before she could get any further away. Her whole body went stiff in shock, and she gazed slackjawed up at him. Then, he grabbed the hairbrush from the other side of the bed, and laid it down next to his right leg.

The next words he said came slowly, methodically, and without a hint of shakiness in his voice.

“Your spanking.” 

In that instant, Flora’s face totally fell. She looked at him with an expression of shock, still processing what he had just said…


But McIntosh didn’t give her any more chance to think. He pulled her forward, dragging her hooves over her floor, and grabbed her beneath her shoulders. Flora felt her body leave the ground, and suddenly, she found her voice again.


“W-Wait, dad, no, no no…” She said as she began to struggle, wriggling in his hold. “No, wait daddy!”


Mac was done. Just, done. As soon as she started to struggle, he only redoubled his grip on her and set her belly down on top of his lap. Then, her back legs began to kick, and she tried to turn her head around to look at him.


“I’m sorry! Please daddy, don’t!”


Big McIntosh, despite hearing his filly’s pleas, felt absolutely nothing tug at his heartstrings. He pressed down more tightly on her back and slid her body further across his lap, until her rump was almost laying on top of his left leg. She gave a hard flurry of kicks and raised her voice in protest, but her struggling wasn’t going to be a problem. He spread his legs apart, and with his hoof, grabbed hold of her two back legs, pushing the forcefully into the space between his knees before he closed them tight.


All of a sudden, despite Flora’s best efforts, she suddenly found herself unable to move her rear legs an inch. Raising her voice in protest, she narrowed her eyes and, with a spark of both anger and fear in her voice, she said, “You can’t do this! Mom wouldn’t let you! Where’s mom! Mom!” 

Her forelegs flailed out, and she desperately tried to reach back and block. But McIntosh put an end to her last act of resistance, and grabbed her forehoof and pinned it to her back, pinning it like a chicken wing. She tried to pull herself forward and away from his lap, but her efforts were totally ineffective. Flora still wasn’t done.


“Mom! I don’t believe you, she’d never! MOOOM!”


Big Mac’s face never changed. He shook his head, and blocked out her cries for help, getting himself used to not listening to a single one of her pleas. All that was left was her tail.


He probably didn’t need to tug on it, but he did anyway as he flipped her tail up and away from her bottom, pinning it tightly right beside her immobilized hoof. Tail stretched taut, Flora gave a yip and a whine of protest, but he didn’t loosen his hold on any part of it one bit. Mac could still feel her struggling, but now, her whole body was nearly immobile on his lap. Not even her last, unrestrained hoof gave her any leverage over his lap, making it impossible for her to move.


Now, there was only the matter of her butt, jutting up, bared, and bent over his knee. Big McIntosh took a deep breath, bit his lip, and raised his hoof above his head.


Flora felt the movement, and she gasped, a tear falling down her face. “No, DAD! Please, I’m sorry, DADDY!”


McIntosh took another deep breath, and said down to her with a tear in his eye, “Flora… say sorry to your mother after we’re done here.” 

Then, with a hard swing of his hoof, he gave his daughter Flora her first spank on her pale blue butt.


Smack!


“OW! Ow, da...”


Smack, smack!


“OWW!”


Flora’s head jerked up with the first few spanks, which left behind stinging pins and needles in her rump. She tried once again to squirm, kick her legs, block her butt, anything… but it was useless. She pushed herself up on the bed with her last free hoof, but couldn’t hold herself up for longer than a few seconds before she collapsed once again, causing her to invariably stick her rump higher in the air.


“OWW, noo, no, daddy stop! No, stop it! YOW!”


McIntosh was totally done listening to her. Her please, cries, moans and squeals, it didn’t matter. The only thing he cared about was the color of her rump, and that wasn’t even pink yet. He spanked his hoof down hard on one cheek at a time, smacking the middle of her rump at a rate of at least one spank per second.


He didn’t know if he would regret what he was about to do, tonight. Perhaps his wife would read him the riot act. But as he went over the words he had said to her in his head, he realized that technically, he had told Fluttershy that he wouldn’t INJURE Flora tonight…


And blisters didn’t count as injury.


His hoof continued to connect with loud smacks to her futilely squirming butt, igniting little firecrackers on her skin which made her squeal, squeak, and yelp in pain. Flora still tried to speak, cry out, and struggle, but the most she could get were little wiggles of her hooves and broken gasps.


“DA-hic-AAD! Nyah, aahhow, AAOW!”


SMACK! SMACK! SMACK, SMACK, SMACK!

Big Mac knew what he was doing. He continued to use his hoof, looking for that shade of bright, glowing red to show up on her bottom cheeks. This was only the warmup, the part of the spanking that ensured she wouldn’t get any bruises when he moved on to the hairbrush lying next to his leg. Then, once her rump was properly prepared, he could spank her as long as he wanted to with her brush without having to worry about doing any damage…


...except for blisters, which by the end of this, Big Mac was determined to raise on her rump.


However, her butt was only getting pink, now, and the spanking had been going on for almost a minute. Flora had no idea that her sobs, whimpers, and attempts to struggle were only being spent on the very first part of her punishment, but her father didn’t mind if she exhausted herself early. He smacked one buttock three times in a row in the same place, bringing a short, loud howl to her throat before doing the same thing to the other side. Flora hung her head and cried.


“Daaa-aaddy, stohohoop!”


Her begging was answered with a harsh, quick flurry of hard spanks all over her reddening rump, making her cry with a whine and an attempted kick of her hind leg. McIntosh felt her leg wiggle back and forth between his knees, and thanked his decision to just get rid of her struggling from the beginning. He raised his hoof above his head for every spank, delivering controlled smacks one after the other without giving his naughty daughter a second of relief for her butt. 

No, Flora. Mac wasn’t going to stop until her rear was redder than he was.


Another two minutes ticked by, and Flora’s struggling, incredibly, still never let up. Neither did her pleas to stop or her half-hearted sorries. Big McIntosh saw the tear stains on the blanket beneath her face, but that wasn’t what he was interested in.


The bright red shade of her heated seat was where it needed to be, now. He swallowed, and with his eyes burning in resolve and his daughter sobbing over his knees, he reached over and picked up the hairbrush.


It was a maple wood brush, hard, lacquered, and slightly larger than his hoof. It was truly the perfect tool. However, he had to be focused, eyes locked in on her rear and very clear with his aim. His hoof was one thing, but if the brush struck anywhere but her bottom it could be very bad news.


Flora’s cries continued, but with the short pause between transitioning tools it began to die down to whimpers. She tried to prop herself up again with her last free hoof, looking over her shoulder to try and get a glimpse of her flaming rump while she gasped and sobbed.


“Daa*hic!*dyyy… I’m sorry… i-is it overrr? Owww...”


Big McIntosh gripped the hairbrush tighter. Then, to aim he set the cool wood down on the middle of her soon to be blistered cheeks. He felt Flora shiver at the touch, and she did a little clench of her rear. He sighed, and stared down at his daughter’s rump with conviction. 

She still tried to see what was happening behind her, but she couldn’t get a good look with her father’s hoof pressing down on her back. She sniffled, and asked with fear in her voice, “Daddy? What is *hic!* thaaat?”


Mac tapped her bottom with the brush three times, and raised it up to his head level. He swallowed, and answered Flora.


“Your hairbrush, hon.”


Flora had only a second to comprehend before he swatted it down, landing with a sharp THWAP on the center of her butt.


Flora’s mouth suddenly gaped open, the breath choking in her lungs before she finally released the howling cry of pain. “Aa, AAHA! OWWW! DAAD!”


The sharpness of the pain that now blazed on her bottom was far worse than even her father’s spanks delivered by his own, massive hoof. The way she shouted his name was almost accusatory: “How could you do something that hurts so much!”


Steeling himself, Big McIntosh raised the hairbrush again, and delivered another whack that rippled the skin of her right cheek. Flora raised her head again, crying even louder. “AAHH DADDY NOO! WAAH!”


THWACK! CRACK! FWAP!


Big McIntosh began. He spanked slowly and methodically, hardly needing to make any adjustments to where the brush landed at all despite his errant daughter’s best efforts to wiggle her butt away from the punishment. He landed two spanks in the same place sometimes, and other times he spanked six times on one side from top to bottom before doing it to her other cheek. But most of the time, he simply swatted back and forth, each spank hard enough to send faint waves through the skin of her pudgy butt, slightly plump from a late fillyhood of relative inactivity. 


Flora blubbered and cried tears that streaked down her face. It hurt so much! She couldn’t even imagine this ever happening to her, and yet here she was, laying on her daddy’s lap for what seemed like forever, the hairbrush continuing to spank her rump relentlessly despite her cries and begs to stop. She thought it was over when he stopped before, and she had felt so relieved, but now it was becoming clear to the filly that she was in a far worse predicament than she ever imagined.


“Uhhuhuhhh, WAAH NOHOO! OW OW OWWW! OWIE, AAOW!”


She once again tried to inch forward on his lap, and now that her body was beginning to be covered in sweat she managed to slightly slip. But it worked to her disadvantage: with the lower portion of her butt more accessible, Big McIntosh switched targets from her now blazing red bottom to the relatively untouched undercurves. He raised his left leg up from the bed, bending her butt at a sharper angle than before, and began spanking away at the place where buttocks and thigh meet.


This made Flora’s face absolutely erupt with tears, and she bawled into the blanket. “GYAHH! Nyehehhh, AOW OWW OWOWOWOW! NOOAAHAHAA!”


After at least a dozen punishing spanks on each cheek in that spot, he moved back up to the much redder skin, returning to the spanking proper. Flora’s body, as much as it could, writhed from side to side and her hoof aimlessly reached forward, swinging back and forth while she sobbed and choked. 

McIntosh tried his best to spread the redness evenly across her entire butt, working to tan it so red that it would match the color of his own coat. He noticed that now, finally, Flora was no longer telling him to stop, calling out for his wife, or doing anything other than cry her eyes out. Her hind hooves kicked slightly beneath him, but she was resisting less, now.


This was getting through to her. He could feel it. He only wished he didn’t have to get to this point for it to finally start sinking in, but from the start, he somehow knew this was what it was going to take. A spanking was like antibiotics: you either give your kid enough, or don’t give them any at all.


He never wanted to do this again. So, he had to be sure.


The spanking continued.


THWACK, SMACK, CRACKK! WHAP, WHAP, WHAP!


Flora moaned piteously into the bed in between her weeps and howls of pain. She tried so hard to move her rump away from the roasting it was getting, but there was simply nothing she could do. Her face was a disaster, smudged with tears and mucus from her snout, and her head swam.


Images, snapshots of memories were beginning to break through her mind. Pictures of a classmate of hers walking into school one day with a red rump, trying so hard to hide it from everyone but failing to do so. Everyone had heard she had cheated on her math test, and weren’t surprised at what they saw the next day.


Boy, Flora had thought, I’m sure glad my parents don’t do that to me!


And now, here she was, suffering the most horrible paddling on her rump that just wouldn’t end. She had never seen her father so angry before, not even close, but now she knew the consequences…

But then, it began to occur to her. The thought stabbed her deeper than the pain of the bonfire that raged on her crimson bottom cheeks and would’ve drawn tears even if her rump wasn’t engulfed in flames.


It wasn’t because he was angry. It was WHY he was angry.


THWACK, THWACK, WHACK!


“OWWOWOW AAHAHOWW!”


She closed her weepy eyes and could clearly see her mother, standing across from her as she walked through the door. Holding her bag in her hand, looking at her with hurt and anger in her eyes. Her mother dropping the bag in front of her, and asking, with a sob, why her money was missing.


WHACK WHACK, WHACK WHACK!


And it wasn’t mom who shouted, oh no. It had been her, Flora. A demand to just leave her alone. Shouting about how unfair it was that she was still grounded when her grades were so much better. Yelling directly into her sweet mother’s face...


THWACK, THWACK…


And then, in a fit of rage, she had thrown the bag right back at her.
CRACK!


Flora, at long last, understood why. She understood why she was here right now, pinned to her daddy’s lap while he fried her tushy wine red. Understood the magnitude of her behavior. Her father’s voice echoed in her head.


She cries… wonders why…


And now, the tears that began pouring out her eyes were not just from the steady spank of the hairbrush. Through the loud, desperate bawls she cried to the ceiling, came another cry for her mother. But this time, it wasn’t a cry for help…


“MOOOMMY, I’M SOOORRYYYY! AAAOW, I’M SOOORRYY! MOMMY!”


It was a cry for forgiveness. 

McIntosh’s hoof had fallen into an unthinking rhythm. His daughter’s rump was so hot that it radiated heat onto his restraining leg, but the hairbrush didn’t stop falling down with harsh thwacks and cracks onto each crimson red cheek.


But Flora’s broken wail, such a loud and desperate cry for mercy, verging on hysterical, suddenly unclouded his vision. The hairbrush, raised for yet another punishing spank to his daughter’s rump, froze next to his head.


Flora’s body was so tense before, at the start of the punishment, but now, McIntosh felt all of the tension leave her muscles. Her body slumped forward, and while her immobilized butt still twitched and weaved slowly from side to side, it was like all of the resistance in her body had disappeared in a sudden flash.


Her weeps and shrill moans of agony never stopped, though. More cries of “sorry” and “Mommy” left her, in between gasps and sobs. Mucus and tears soaked the bed below her face.


McIntosh stared down at his daughter. The hoof which held her hairbrush trembled, and soon his eyes weren’t looking at her, but through her instead. 

He was no longer in his daughter’s room. His mind was somewhere else, a whole new location. Now, he could feel the prickling of hay on his belly, and the red wood wall of the barn lay in front of his face. But the wall was a blur, as his eyes were filled with tears.


The switch wasn’t stopping. It kept falling, over and over, never ending, thwick thwick thwicking across his rump. Every spank felt like a razor blade slashed across his bare skin, and every new one built upon the pain of the next. It had been unbearable from almost the very start. He’d screamed, wailed, begged, struggled, and even tried to get away. But he was only a colt. His father was stronger than him.


McIntosh didn’t remember when it had stopped. All he remembered was coming to his senses, the sun low in the sky, and the absolutely horrific, blistering agony radiating from his rear. His head swam, and his chest hurt from sobbing so hard.


It took him ten full minutes to walk home, all alone. Blisters and welts, some burst and some newly formed, felt like needles digging into his skin. When he finally made it up the stairs, he had slowly dragged himself into bed, trying to sleep on his belly, his pillow hugged tightly to his chest. But he failed, unable to block out the pain long enough to close his eyes and drift away. 

All of this flashed in front of his eyes in warp speed, until finally the distance in his stare disappeared, and he was back in the room.


“Mohoomm, AAAaahaah! S-So--rry, Mommy, oooaaoowww, WAAhahaaaa…”


McIntosh barely breathed. Flora still weeped and hyperventilate desperately, and her whole body shivered. And under his face, her wine red butt still lay framed on the center of his lap, helpless to get away no matter how long it was spanked, no matter how much pain was inflicted upon it. It was the same helplessness, under absolute agony, he had gone through all of those years ago.


And he had planned on continuing it. He had...


The hairbrush fell out of his hoof, and struck the floor. McIntosh’s open jaw quivered, and Flora’s ribs rose and fell under his hoof pressed down on her back. A tear fell, then another tear, and another. The shock of the realization of what now lay in front of him stole his voice, but he still was able to whisper.


“Wh-What… What’ve I done…”