Fetish

Be a mother of a currently very naughty colt.

He has had a recent streak of naughtiness as of late: backtalk, coming home late, general bad stuff in school, the usual but in great numbers.

No punishment or attempts at discipline work. There is one you haven't tried yet, but you won’t be doing that. He will get no spankings from you.

It seems that he left his saddlebag at home today, meaning that he skipped school.

You sigh, unsure what to do.

It’s not that you don’t want to spank him. In fact, you really do. You want to slap the daylights out of his flank so badly, which is the problem. It’s not that you just want to spank him for his behavior, you want to just spank him for any reason. In fact, you want to spank anypony at this point.

Over most of your life, you’ve grown a great interest in spankings to a disturbing degree. It would be appropriate to call your interest a fetish. It’s because of that you cannot punish your colt in such a matter. To enjoy and be turned on by hurting him…

You hear the living room window open prompting you to turn around to see a teal colt climb inside. He looks panicked as soon as he sees you.
”Mom?! I thought you were working!” He says.
You raise your eyebrow. “I have the day off.”
He gulps as you frown.
”You should be in school.”
”Should have.” He replies cheekily. “School day is over.”
”And you skipped it.”
”…No…” He averts his eyes.
”I saw your bag.”
”I-I left it at home. A classmate gave me paper.”
"And where is it?”
”Uh…”
You huff angrily. This colt needs a good whooping.
”Young colt, you are not to skip school!”
Now he frowns as well. “Why not?! It’s stupid and pointless anyway!”
”It’s for your own good and legally required!”
”Well, I don’t care!” He shouts before rushing into his room.

You want to stop him, but you don’t. Instead, you just stare at him as he gallops upstairs, more specifically, his rump. Oh, how much you want to beat it…

You shake your head. Not with that mindset, you won’t.

As if you can ever get out of it…

Later, you think about how to punish him as you cook dinner. Frankly, you come up with anything appropriate for the situation. grounding, for example, would just lead to him sneaking out.

You put the food on the plate once you finish.

It’s hot. As hot as his flanks should be.

You smack yourself. ”He’s your son.” You whisper.

Soon, the two of you are sitting opposite at the table, eating. He doesn’t say anything and neither do you as both of you are silent eaters.

Once you both finish though, you finally address him: ”Now then, about school-“
”I don’t wanna talk about it!”
”Too bad!” You snap, startling him. “What has gotten into you these days?!”
”I dunno!”
”Skipping school?! Not to mention all the other things you’ve been doing?!”
He says nothing.

You take a moment to calm down. Yelling at him is pointless at this point. You need to take action.
”You will go to the living room. Now.” You say with the most authoritative tone you can muster.
To your surprise, he actually doesn’t talk back, but fearfully listens.

Huh, maybe this can work out after all.

But you know that unless you do something, this little moment will all be for naught, so you follow him, thinking of what to do. Despite trying to convince yourself of that not being the case, you can only thing of one way to deal with him.

He’s sitting on the sofa, looking at you. You silently look return his stare with a mean glare, causing him to flinch.

Are you really doing this?

You groan. Yes, yes you are. There’s no way around it.

You suppress a gulp as you open your mouth. “Alright, bend over the couch arm!”
”Huh?”
You almost facehoof. Of course he wouldn’t get it.

You walk up and grab him. Gosh, you want put him over your knee now. He’s even shaking a little. Maybe he’s starting to realize what’s about to happen?

Either way, you don’t do that. You don’t want to make any… accidents onto his tummy. You cringe at that thought.

You cringe harder at the thought of how much you’re looking forward to this. It’s so wrong, but what choice do you have?

You bend him over the couch arm and, rather reluctantly, you raise his tail, pinning it to his back.

You look at the newly revealed butt. Those meaty little colty bums are looking back at you, practically begging to be smacked. It lacks a cutie mark leaving it a constant singular color.

Not for long after you get your way.

You give it a few taps, taking pleasure at how it feels to do so. Oh, you’re going to love this…

”Mom?”
You break out of your stupor. He looks back at you, worriedly. It’s obvious what he’s thinking about.

Quickly gathering your thoughts, you stare back at him.
”Yes, you’re getting a spanking.”

Before he can respond, you raise your hoof, not wanting to drag this out any longer as the more you do, the more you’ll give into your sick fantasies.

You then swing down.
’SMACK!’
He shrieks as he reals forward. You hit him with full force.

You keep your hoof on the rump as you feel It jiggle at the impact.

Your hoof stings a little bit, but probably not nearly as much as its target does. You can feel his squirming as he’s whimpering about the pain even as you slowly raise the hoof, finally seeing the red mark it left behind.

Oh, gosh, that felt amazing. You want to hit it again!

That is, until you feel a tingle in your crotch.
…
No.

You force yourself away from him. Not at this state.

You take a deep breath.
”Get up!” You order.
He quickly does as he is told. A stingy rump makes for a good motivator.
”You will now go back to school and apologize to the teacher!”
”But mo-“
”If you don’t, that one slap will turn into a whole spanking and I can guarantee that you won’t be sitting comfortably for a week once I finish with you!” You pause for a moment. “In fact, forget sitting, you won’t even be able to stand without discomfort!”
You are not lying. You’re not sure if you could stop if you kept spanking him.
”Do I make myself clear?!” You shout.
”Yes!”
”Go!”
He runs off.

You look at his newly marked backside before he gets outside, feeling ashamed to admit just how sad you feel that it’s now out of reach. You wanna drag him back, take him to the basement and spend the entire day spanking away.

You walk behind him to close the door and wait to make sure he is far away before sitting down on the couch, immediately thinking back on that slap and how scared he was as he realized what you were doing…

You put your hoof to your mare bits.
The way he reacted to when you hit him…
You rub.
The way the impact felt…
You shut your eyes as your rub more furiously.
The way it jiggled…
You smile in pleasure.
That red spank mark…
You start sweating a little.
And that he…
He…
He…
He’s your son.

You stop, your pleasure cut uncomfortably short.

You look at your hoof. Thankfully, the couch hasn’t been soiled. You were always careful about that.

You’re a terrible mother…

You stand up and head to the bathroom to wash yourself.

You also vow to get a therapist.