Forty Lashes

Pumpkin Cake whined and whimpered as Pinkie dragged her and her brother up the stairs by their ears, the party pony somehow contriving to pull both of them at once. Looking back on the day, she supposed it was inevitable. And it was all POUND’S fault, too. Whose idea had it been to play in the kitchen? Pound’s. Who said “Let’s bake Pinkie a cake, she’ll love it!” Pound. Who had urged Pumpkin to set the mixer to high and splatter batter all over the kitchen?

Well, that one was all her…but still! It was Pound’s fault they were in this mess! He started it, even if she had finished it…and made a huge mess of the kitchen. One that Pinkie was now going to have to clean up before she could throw her “I haven’t thrown a party in THREE DAYS” party this afternoon…which Pound and his Sister were probably going to be UN-invited to now.

A tug on her ear brought Pumpkin back to reality as Pinkie forcefully steered them both towards her door, plopping both their flanks down on the floor, looking as angry as a dinosaur as she towered over them, eyes tight.

“Are you two allowed to play in the kitchen?” the pink pony asked.

“No, Pinkie.” Pumpkin chorused, Pound a beat behind her.

“Are you allowed to touch the oven, the stove, or the mixer?” she continued, the stern voice sounding very odd coming out of her usual bubbly mouth.

“No, Pinkie.” They answered again, shivering. Pound was especially frightened…was Pinkie going to tell their parents? “A…Are you gonna tell Mommy and Daddy?” the colt asked, shuddering in fear. Six years old or not, Daddy was still big and strong, and Mommy was scary when she was angry.

“No.” she answered, fortunately for them. Both of their sighs of relief were cut off by her next line, however, one that drew a gasp of fear from the foals.

“You’re both getting forty lashes from me.” She said, her voice incredibly stern. “I heard what Twilight did to Rarity the last time she acted up, and I don’t think either of you are too young to have that happen to you.”

Both of them looked at one another, mouths agape in surprise. Pinkie had never threatened to spank them herself! After a moment, though, her serious face made them realize…for once, the Party Mare wasn’t joking. She was serious, and their bottoms were doomed.

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Pumpkin sat, sniffling, nose to the wall as she tried to listen through the door. Pinkie had pushed her outside the door after she had tried to follow Pound inside, telling her that this wouldn’t be done together. Ordering the young filly to stay in time out until Pinkie came to get her, Pinkie had shut her door. Soon after, the sounds of Pound begging for mercy had trickled through.

“No! No! I’m sorry!” she could hear him begging, as well as the telltale sounds of her brother flapping his wings in fear. It was always like that…usually Mom had to turn him upside down when he was getting a spanking to keep him from hurting himself.

Pinkie didn’t seem to know that, though…a crash and a tinkle was soon followed by her voice, disappointed. “Pound, that was my favorite one…I think you need to really be taught a lesson”

At that, her brother’s begging doubled, then stopped as Pumpkin heard the sound of rustling through the door. Then Pound really shrieked.

“NO! NOT THAT! ANYTHING BUT THAT! PLEASE, PINKIE, I’M SORRY! WE’LL NEVER PLAY IN THE KITCHEN AGAIN!” he all but screamed, causing Pumpkin to whimper herself. Was Pinkie getting out her spanking cannon…did she have a spanking cannon? Pumpkin would wager she did…if she had a party cannon, why not a paddling cannon?

Her mind in a rush, she couldn’t hear if Pinkie was smacking her brother’s bottom hard or not. But then, you could never tell with her honorary big sister/auntie. She could just be using her mysterious tricks to muffle the sounds. Maybe she was using what Mommy and Daddy used on her bottom way back when…

Pound’s crying was perfectly audible, though. He was bawling, with punctuations of “OW!” and scolding from Pinkie. “If you’d hold still, this would be over that much quicker. Every time you move, it takes a little longer.”

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Eventually, after about twenty minutes, it was over. Then, with a flutter of her heart, Pumpkin heard the door open, and started to look around before a hoof pushed her nose right back against the wall. “You stay there until your brother gets to your room, young lady.” Pinkie’s voice chided.

After the clip-clopping of Pound’s hooves…and, mysteriously, Pumpkin could have sworn she heard a multitude of other hooves clopping as well…faded away, Pinkie grabbed Pumpkin by the ear and marched her into the bedroom. She must have straightened up, everything was clean except for…

Pumpkin gasped…her brother had broken one of the blown glass balls they had gotten Pinkie for Hearth’s Warming. Multicolored and prismatic, the party mare loved playing with them! And now it was all in shards.

Pinkie saw where her gaze was going, and nodded. “I’m going to try and get it fixed, but that’s the kind of thing that happens when little foals don’t take punishment.” She said, sadness filling her features.

With that, Pinkie lifted Pumpkin up into her lap, holding the little filly carefully as she stood her onto her hind legs. “I’m gonna try something different with you, just so you don’t break anything else. Just put your hooves on my shoulders and try to stay where you are. You can close your eyes if you want.”

Already sniffling, Pumpkin obeyed, closing her eyes tightly to avoid seeing Pinkie’s sad face any more. Tears were already flowing down, and she felt her big sister reach up with a hoof to wipe them away, gently dabbing at her cheeks with a kerchief until they were nice and dry.

Pumpkin sniffled and whined, even letting loose a sob as she waited for Pinkie to start spanking her. All the while, Pinkie kept wiping her tears and hugging her occasionally, dabbing the cloth over her.

Soon, though, pinkie stopped and kissed her. “There we go. All done. You were much better behaved than Pound.” She said, her voice back to its usual chirpy self. “Now go get your brother and meet me downstairs. You two are gonna help me clean the kitchen, and then you’re gonna help me bake the cake for my party!” she said, skipping off down the stairs with a squee after giving the little filly another kiss on her cheek.

Pumpkin, confused as could be, went to knock on the door to the room she shared with her brother. She could still hear him sniffling inside before she opened up. When he looked up and saw her, both their mouths fell open as they beheld one another’s faces.

False eyelashes festooned their faces, four columns of ten each. Pound had also been dressed in one of Pinkie’s silly costumes, a little sailor outfit she had gotten for Gummy before realizing it was way too big.

For a moment, they both just stood there, then both of them facehoofed.

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Pinkie giggled as she hopped down the stairs. Forty Lashes, worked like a dream, didn’t even have to spank them. She would get her glass ball fixed later, Twilight could do it for sure. Right now, she needed to get that kitchen cleaned up.

Maybe while she cleaned it, she could figure out why Rarity getting forty lashes from Twilight somehow made her butt get all read and stripey…