SkyeHigh

RariQuinn 2 by SkyeHigh (Quinn/Rarity)

Dec 24th, 2014
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  1. RariQuinn 2 by SkyeHigh (fimfiction.net/user/SkyeHigh)
  2.  
  3. Kinda inspirational picture (https://www.derpibooru.org/588191) NSFW
  4.  
  5. ---
  6.  
  7. Exhausted, spent and tired. That's how I felt when I finally made it home later that day. The day of the disastrous events with my inspiration magic...
  8.  
  9. Guess it is time for me to share another little uncomfortable story of mine.
  10.  
  11. After Spike had filled me in on the details of what had transpired while I wasn't really myself, I quickly rushed home, not wanting to be seen by anyone. He assured me it wasn't my fault since I couldn't control it and also because it was him that brought me the spell book. Still, when I saw it took three princesses to clean up the havoc my magic had wreaked, I could stand it no more.
  12.  
  13. Nopony would ever know, Spike had promised me. But that didn't make me feel better at all. My friends wouldn't ever find out the truth about who it was that absolutely ruined their day. If I only had the courage to tell them so they could make their own judgments.
  14.  
  15. Walking up the stairs to my bedroom, I remembered they HAD known the last time I messed up. And what did they do? Put it off as nothing! No... telling them would simply achieve nothing. They would just shrug, tell me it's 'okay' and live on. I sat down on my bed, hopelessly lost in my conflicted thoughts. No... if I wanted to get over this I had to do something else.
  16.  
  17. My gaze fell involuntarily on that solitary mannequin in my bedroom and I felt my heart to start racing at speeds Rainbow Dash would dream of.
  18.  
  19. "Ooohhh... not again..."
  20.  
  21. Was that really me? That sounded absolutely like a childish whine, hardly becoming of the sophisticated mare that I was.
  22.  
  23. "I don't want to repeat that DREADFUL experience!"
  24.  
  25. Of course, no thanks to my fantastic conscience, I was already thinking about doing it again. And why wouldn't I? It sure were some of the absolute WORST minutes of my life, but afterwards, everything was better again. No bashing myself over things others had long since forgotten, no feeling down anymore. It was like going to the dentist or getting shots: a necessary evil to get over with to prevent things from getting worse over time.
  26.  
  27. "Great, just marvellous! Thank you ever so much, guilty conscience!" I was entertaining the thought of getting some reply, some sort of sarcastic 'you're welcome' but silence reigned.
  28.  
  29. "Grrr-AHH!" I let out in frustration, falling back on my bed and staring at the ceiling. "Alright, I'll do it. You win. I hope you're happy!" My my, I was surely drenching my words in pure venom then. And who could've blamed me? Reducing myself to THAT again was positively frustrating.
  30.  
  31. However, as soon as that frustration left me ridiculousness overcame me of how I was talking to myself. I laughed, long and hard about how silly I was, but it became more and more forced with every passing moment. Then, I halted, and yet a new feeling started to build up deep within myself... nervousness.
  32.  
  33. I looked over to that mannequin, Quinn or Quinny, as I liked to call him. Realization of what I was getting myself into again hit me and I was not sure if it was better this time, now that I fully knew what to expect. I took some deep breaths and calmed myself. My heartbeat was still beyond what was considered normal, but it probably wouldn’t get better anyway.
  34.  
  35. After a heavy sigh I muttered, “Here we go again.”
  36.  
  37. I shakily stood up from the bed again and almost collapsed once I was on my four hooves. My legs felt like jello. Hesitantly I moved to the middle of the room, just in range to magically bring Quinn to life. I rubbed my left leg with my right and bit my lip, nervously chewing at it. My brain was working frantically on some sort of alternative plan to make me feel better, yet nothing came to mind. Also, I had this nagging little voice in the back of my head telling me I deserved this and should get it over with.
  38.  
  39. Then my face lit up as I had finally come up with something to at least stall for some time. I cleared my throat quickly and declared, “I should prepare for everything beforehand!”
  40.  
  41. Very pleased with my genius idea I made my over to the door and locked it shut. I didn’t really feel so much better but the nervousness was fading already. That was a good sign. Moving on I went over to the bed and smoothed the sheets and straightened the pillows. Just because it would be used didn’t mean I had to leave it in disarray.
  42.  
  43. I continued for a while, doing trivial things just to not go on with the plans I had. That was until I went over to my mirror. Beneath it lay my favorite hairbrush. A marvelous work of fine, sturdy oak and a painted motif on the flat back of it. I picked it up with my magic, eying it closely. A hoof travelled absentmindedly back to my rump and rubbed it faintly, remembering the sting of that brush only too well.
  44.  
  45. Then, with a start I realized the part of me that would later control Quinn would also know of my stalling. The brush went clattering to the floor as I fell into light panic.
  46.  
  47. Would ‘I’ punish myself later for taking so long?
  48.  
  49. Would ‘I’ be giving myself extra?
  50.  
  51. As I worried about the near future of my fanny, I snatched the brush off the ground and hurried over to my bed again, putting it down. Then it was time, I stood ready in front of Quinn. Well, ready was a lie... I felt even worse than before my little idea to calm myself and stall for time.
  52.  
  53. Once again, I channeled that, now familiar, spell up in my horn, putting every last spark of magic into it. This was it, the point of no return. I knew if I’d let loose that magic I’d be so vulnerable again and couldn’t do anything to resist. But like last time, since it was a part of me that controlled the mannequin, I would have nothing to worry about. The thought was quite comforting and so I let go, throwing myself off that cliff and into the mercy of the waves below...
  54.  
  55. I must’ve blacked out for a moment from the loss of magic, because the next thing I knew was that Quinn stood before me, waiting. An ethereal aura in the blue color of my magic surrounded him as he seemed to stare at me with that featureless head. I shakily got up on my hooves again and just looked back at him, the sight was amazing every time.
  56.  
  57. I then reacted just in time to take a step back and dodge the hoof he shot out to my head. Reflexively I tried to cast a spell to push Quinn away from me, but had to realize my magic was gone for the moment.
  58.  
  59. He took another step forward, seemingly still determined to grab one of my ears, which sent me into momentary panic. I held my hooves tightly over my ears, bending them down and covering them. “Nononono,” I pleaded, “not my ears, please! I won’t resist, I’ll do what you say... er... gesture.”
  60.  
  61. Quinn halted in his movement, the hoof still stretched out. He seemed to consider the bargain and after some pondering nodded in agreement. While he turned around and walked over to my bed, I breathed a huge sigh of relief and uncovered my ears. At least they were safe, even if the same couldn’t be said for my bum.
  62.  
  63. He picked up my hairbrush from the bed, but did not sit down. Instead he just put it down again and grabbed a pillow, laying it down at the edge of the bed. I wasn’t quite sure what he was planning, but there wasn’t anything I could’ve done to defy him anyway, so I just watched on in curiosity.
  64.  
  65. After he was done with his preparations, he threw me a look and turned around and away from me. Almost casual was his walk over to my wardrobe, since I knew, and so he did, that I improved somewhat on the spell fueling him. The result was a greatly increased uptime, so we had all the time in the world today... not that this put my worries at ease.
  66.  
  67. Quinn was standing in front of my accessoires. This part of my collection contained exotic and some of the more unusual wear, saddles and that kind of stuff, but he seemed to know what he was looking for. Of course, he knew this place just as good as I did. What he took off the rack, however, left my mouth hanging open and my legs gave suddenly in.
  68.  
  69. His choice was a short, black faux leather belt from one of the costumes I was working on. He seemed oblivious of my distress as he slowly made his way back to the bed to put the piece of fashion next to the hairbrush. It was only then that he was interested in me again as he motioned for me to lay over the pillow on the edge.
  70.  
  71. I slowly shook my head in disbelief. “Q-Qu-Quinn! I know I shouldn’t have s-stalled earlier b-but don’t you think this is t-too much?” I really hoped then that this was just kind of cruel joke on his part. I would’ve even laughed at it, but he was serious. He shook his wooden head and pointed to the hairbrush and then to me.
  72.  
  73. “The b-brush is my additional punishment?” He gave a nod. “A-and the b-belt is the regular one?” Another nod. “Q-Quinn, please! That’s a bit over the top, don’t you think?” This time he shook his head no and obviously fed up with my arguing, he stepped forward in two big steps and snatched my right ear before I could even react.
  74.  
  75. With a few firm tugs, Quinn got me moving into the direction of the bed. I know I promised no resistance but I was scared out of my mind and I had every right to, Daddy had never used anything besides his hoof or brush to spank me.
  76.  
  77. Having arrived at the bed, I finally voiced out my discomfort about being pulled by the ear yet once again. “OWW! That hurts!” I complained while pulling against his grip, which only earned me a hard slap to the rump once he let go of my ear. I almost jumped at this one stinging spank. With his wooden hoof it felt like a whack from my hairbrush, maybe even worse.
  78.  
  79. I was just tending to the burning spot on my bottom when Quinn was looking at me expectantly, motioning again to lay over the pillow he prepared. I took a nervous half-step back and just wanted to ask for a change in the plan, but he took it as another act of disobedience and went to seize my ear again.
  80.  
  81. “Wait, wait, WAIT,” I nearly screamed, holding my hooves up in defence and falling back on my haunches. He stopped his motion, silently demanding an explanation, which I was about to deliver.
  82.  
  83. “I... you see...” This was quite the difficult question to ask, at least for me. I rubbed my fore hooves together in embarrassment but continued on, knowing Quinn was getting impatient. “C-can’t we do this like l-last time?” I asked, moving my left down from its defensive position and softly patted my left thigh.
  84.  
  85. It seemed like he realized what I wanted by the way his head twitched back slightly and then moved up and down for a short nod. While I was glad he granted me this request, the realization of how I wanted to get treated made me avert my gaze in humiliation.
  86.  
  87. Quinn, meanwhile, took a seat on my soft bed, right next to the pillow and repeated my patting gesture on his own lap then. I got the message and didn’t want to seem like I was resisting again after this act of mercy, so I quickly got up and approached him from his right. But that was as far as I could go, at that point my nerves were getting the better of me, rendering me unable to follow Quinn’s request of crawling across his lap. I could just stand there, shuffling my hooves slightly.
  88.  
  89. Sensing my apprehension, he helped me get on by slinging an arm around my waist and pulling me up, placing me diagonally over his lap. My upper body rested on the bed, inches away from the pillow, which I grasped tightly in an instant. My lower body hung down from his knees and the bed, leaving my hinds dangling in the air, not far from the floor, but not close enough to support myself. In nervousness, I kicked them around very lightly and it must’ve been an adorable sight to behold. The high and mighty Rarity, about to get spanked like a little filly. If I wasn’t so utterly terrified back then, I would’ve chuckled at the situation.
  90.  
  91. Next I felt my tail being grasped and secured firmly on the small of my back. Quinn then lifted a leg to further elevate my rump into the air, most likely to ensure a better target. So there I was again, bent over the knees of my mannequin, bare bottom up, face buried in my pillow, waiting for my well-earned spanking to start.
  92.  
  93. And I didn’t have to wait long. With no announcement at all, only the swishing sound of the faux leather heralded the start, I felt the belt crack down on my exposed rump. The first lash was already terrible, leaving a blazing streak across my whole fanny. I screamed into the pillow I held tightly in my arms.
  94.  
  95. Without pausing, Quinny laid another burning stripe directly beneath the first one. I managed to take that one better than the first, kicking my hinds out but only groaned loudly into the pillow. Another one followed after a short pause, yet again lower across the pudgier part of my rump.
  96.  
  97. Quinn then seemed to have found his rhythm, taking his time to properly discipline my bottom and letting each lick sink in before adding another one. By the sixth one the tears started to stream down my face, as I was beginning to lose my composure. The realization that my whole rump was already burning, top to thighs, at only six lashes made me shudder inwardly. I didn’t know how many I had to expect, but I guessed then that it was only the beginning.
  98.  
  99. I lost count over the next few spanks, but I always noticed when Quinn would whip the same spot twice because that would always double the burn, making for a more intense memory. I also would kick, wriggle and squirm over his lap every time now that the leather would withdraw from my fanny, always leaving a searing sting behind.
  100.  
  101. At one point I started beating the pillow with my hooves, since screaming and crying into it no longer brought enough comfort. Quinn, however, was undeterred by that, never letting up, always bringing down the belt again with the same amount of force on my behind.
  102.  
  103. It was only after he spanked my sit spot twice that I really kicked out violently, forcing him to lock me down. He quickly removed his right leg from under me and brought it down over my flailing legs, trapping them. Robbed of some freedom there, I pleaded for the first time.
  104.  
  105. “QUINN, please!” I howled out after removing my face from the pillow and arching my back upwards. “I’m SORRY, it’s e-enouGHHH!”
  106.  
  107. Of course my words didn’t stop him from turning my bottom into a blazing inferno. It didn’t help last time and wouldn’t do so this time. Only he decided when it was really enough and judging by the harder whacks then, he wasn’t done. Quinn pressed down on my back, forcing me on the pillow again where I cried openly and loudly. I still tried to kick my legs but I couldn’t budge them that much, just managed to slightly jerk back and forth. But my rump stayed right where he wanted it to, high in the air and secured for more punishment.
  108.  
  109. I lost myself in wailing and sobbing in agony, as he picked up the pace, placing the lashes faster and faster across my burning fanny. “PleaaaaaseeAHHHH!” I screamed and pleaded but to no avail. Of course, looking back now it was silly to even try but during that time getting my bottom spanked so soundly, everything seemed worth to try.
  110.  
  111. I felt like I couldn’t take it anymore and was almost trying to block the oncoming whacks, but caught myself at the last moment. The last time was enough extra, I had remembered that lesson well. Lost in the thoughts of my prior spanking and hell-bent on not giving into the temptation to block, I never noticed Quinn had stopped then and put the belt down beside him. It took a few more moments to come to that realization, also shortly after, Quinn rubbed my aching bum as gently as he could with that wooden hoof...
  112.  
  113. If it only were his hoof...
  114.  
  115. And then even more moments later, I realized it wasn’t his hoof. It felt familiar. It felt like... “My H-HAIRBRUSH!” I guessed correctly as one look back over my shoulder proved.
  116.  
  117. The hoof on my back pressed me back in position and the brush tapped lightly against each of my cheeks in turn, making me flinch due to the soreness. I became quite panicked then, I knew I had earned some extra, but I honestly thought it was included in that BRUTAL belting I had received.
  118.  
  119. “Quinn, p-please no! I-I know I shouldn’t have t-tried to trick myself. I’m s-sorry!” was what I frantically got out in between my sobbing. The only answer were two harder taps against my rump, which I interpreted as some sort of ‘no-no’.
  120.  
  121. I resigned myself to my fate then, Quinn knew what was best since ‘he’ was ‘me’, and I couldn’t stop him anyway. My magic was still drained for a while and he had me locked in an iron grip, there was no escape until he was satisfied.
  122.  
  123. I reached back with my right hoof, making sure to hold it over my back and not my rump, to give him the idea what I wanted while I buried my face in the pillow again. He understood quickly and released my back and tail, only to grasp my hoof tightly in his own, holding it encouragingly and pressing it then firmly back on my tail.
  124.  
  125. Then he started...
  126.  
  127. He cracked my brush down swiftly on my scorching behind, and again, and again. He wasn’t deliberate like with that belt, it was a flurry of hard whacks and cracks. Quinn must’ve placed at least three or four on my bottom until my brain registered the unbearable pain.
  128.  
  129. “Waaaahaaaahaaaaa! STOOOP!” I wailed, my face long since free of the confines of my pillow again. It could need some washing afterwards, it was positively drenched by that point.
  130.  
  131. My screams had no effect of course, Quinn kept up his rapid pace, bouncing the brush all the way up and down my rear. And I had thought the hairbrush was bad last time... it was nothing compared to this brushing after the belt. But it was my own fault, I had tried to outsmart my own consciousness and my fanny was paying the price for it.
  132.  
  133. I struggled with everything I had against his hoof and leg, but he held on tightly, not letting my naughty bottom going anywhere. He made sure it was getting the attention it deserved. At this point I would’ve surely tried to block again if he hadn’t my hoof tightly clutched in his, so I could only try to pull it loose, but never stood any chance.
  134.  
  135. Quinn kept going with frightening speed and force. I never knew where he’d spank, but he made sure my whole bottom was burning and throbbing equally: middle of the cheek, crack, sit spot and back to the top and down again he went.
  136.  
  137. My wailing grew more and more incoherent until I could only scream out the one thing that always comforted me back then.
  138.  
  139. “Bwaaahaaa DADDYYYY aaaaaaAAHHH!” I bawled on top of my lungs with the tears streaming down my face. I don’t know how long Quinn kept the hairbrushing up, because then everything got a bit hazy as I could only limply lay there and continue to bawl and cry, sometimes feebly kicking my legs. Later on, whenever I thought about that situation I would hear something like ‘30 seconds’ in the back of my head, even though that was ridiculous. That was more like 30 minutes!
  140.  
  141. Be it as it will, after the last spank was dealt to my rear, he threw the brush down before my eyes so I could see and would know it was finally over. He released the hold on me but I didn’t want to move, it hurt too much and I was too busy getting air back into my lungs.
  142.  
  143. It took a while until I regained some semblance of speech and normal breathing back, but dear Quinn was there for me the whole time, gently rubbing my back, but staying away from the inferno in my bum. Eventually, he pulled me into a tight embrace, even though he still was quite uncomfortable to cuddle with. It was about the sentiment and the closeness anyway. I let myself fall to the side, pulling him down with me, wincing at the awful feeling the sheets caused my abused fanny. Still, I didn’t care... much, as long as Quinn kept up rubbing my mane and back gently and I could rub my aching rear.
  144.  
  145. I resisted the urge to mumble ‘I’m sorry’ again, because I knew I was forgiven in his embrace. I’ve paid for my misdeeds against Ponyville and against myself.
  146.  
  147. I don’t know when, but at some time I must’ve fallen asleep. But it seemed like Quinn never left me because the next day I woke up next to the, now again, lifeless mannequin who punished me so severely the evening before.
  148.  
  149. With my magic back I moved him back to his holder next to the window and got up from the bed. The movement still caused some pain but it was way better already than the evening before. I caressed my cheeks tenderly and really hoped this wouldn’t become a regular thing now. But still, I would be ready to face it if it was required again.
  150.  
  151. “Seems like ‘never again’ became a ‘probably again’ now...” I mused, still rubbing my sore rump.
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