“Vinyl Scratch, I swear to Celestia that you are the most aggravating mare in all of Equestria!” Octavia yelled at her marefriend, who was currently lying on the ground with a cat’s smug expression plastered on her face.
“But you love me anyways, don’tcha?” Vinyl asked. The hurt in her voice was completely feigned, and they both knew it.
Octavia facehoofed. “As much as I sometimes regret it, I certainly do. But I need to practice! The concert is tomorrow and I need more rehearsal time. And I can hardly do that with you lying on my bloody cello bow!”
“You don’t need practice, Octy,” Vinyl said sagely. “You need to relax a little. You’re all worked up over this.”
“AARGH!” Octavia exclaimed. She reared up in frustration, waving her hooves like she wanted to sink them into the back of Vinyl’s skull, though she very carefully landed so as not to injure the obnoxious mare who was stymying her. “You’re impossible, Vinyl,” she said as she turned her back and stomped into the kitchen.
“Ponies call me that all the time,” Vinyl called after her. Octavia stayed silent, refusing to rise to the bait of a punchline she had heard a hundred times already. She contented herself with pouring a cup of coffee for herself, steaming and black like the color of her mane and Vinyl’s evil heart.
When Octavia came back from the kitchen, she already knew how she was going to deal with Vinyl’s foalishness; by being a foal herself. Distasteful, perhaps, but sometime a pony must fight fire with fire. “Vinyl, I’ve had a change of heart. I’ve decided that you’re right and I really should take a rest,” she said sweetly.
“What the hay are you up to? You never agree with me that fast,” Vinyl said suspiciously. An Octavia who became syrupy sweet for no reason was an Octavia who was planning something.
“Why, nothing, of course. I’m just going to rest. And how thoughtful of you to provide me with a nice comfortable seat,” Octavia said. With that, she plopped down on her haunches right on Vinyl’s back.
“OOF,” Vinyl grunted as Octavia’s weight expelled the air from her lungs. “What the hay do you think you’re doing? I’m a pony, not a couch! I’m trying to legitimately help you out here and this is the thanks I get?”
“Mmhm,” Octavia murmured as she calmly took a sip of her coffee, now delicately balanced on her hoof. She wasn’t concerned for Vinyl’s wellbeing; if she had enough oxygen to complain and grouse, then she could breathe just fine.
“Geez, and she says I’m childish,” Vinyl muttered to herself as she crossed her forelegs in a very childish pouting position. Octavia resisted the urge to giggle at her marefriend and took another sip of her coffee instead, savoring it and the warm and fuzzy impromptu seating arrangements.
After another sip of coffee and some more grousing from Vinyl, Octavia noticed that her vantage point gave her a rather nice view of some of Vinyl’s more endearing assets. I suppose we may as well both get some enjoyment out of this situation, she thought as she traced the outlines of Vinyl’s hindquarters with her eyes. She knew every inch of them by memory, of course; they were etched into her heart and mind. That didn’t mean that she still didn’t like to look.
A slow smile spread across her muzzle as a wicked idea took shape in her mind, one that she knew Vinyl would appreciate too. With great deliberation and precision, she lifted one of her hooves to hover a few feet above the soft, firm, perfected buttocks that she knew so well. She held it there, patiently waiting for her own anticipation to peak. Once her heart started to thump noticeably inside her chest, Octavia knew that she had waited enough. Her grey hoof descended sharply, slapping with carefully calculated force into Vinyl’s soft backside.
“Ouch!” Vinyl cried out in pain that was mostly fake and surprise that was definitely real.
Crack! Octavia’s hoof struck her other cheek.
“Octy!”
Thwack!
“Hey!”
Smack!
“C’mon!”
Octavia paused to take a sip of her coffee and to give Vinyl a moment to catch her breath; the poor mare was panting and blood had rushed to her face, tinging even through her pearly coat. After allowing her a moment’s respite, Octavia lightly brushed her hoof across the surface of her backside.
“You have such a pretty rump,” she cooed. “I admit, I find it rather enthralling.” Smack! Smack!
“Octy, that hurts!” Vinyl exclaimed, squirming to try and escape. It was futile, though: Octavia’s weight on her back kept her pinned in place. Hot, stinging pain sank into her backside, fueling her struggles for freedom. She writhed and flailed her hooves, but to no avail.
Octavia took another small drink, savoring it as she savored Vinyl’s helplessness. Her mare’s struggles were sweeter to her than chocolate and just as addictive. “Of course it hurts,” she said evenly. “You are being punished, after all.”
“I’m sorry, Tavi; I didn’t mean to make you mad! I just wanted you to relax!” Vinyl pleaded.
“Oh, I’m not angry with you, Vinyl,” the grey mare explained gently as she studied the red tint that marred her partner’s alabaster curves. “I would never lay a hoof on you out of anger. This is just having some fun with my marefriend. Now tell me, sweetness, have you learned your lesson or must I discipline you further?”
Vinyl craned her neck around to look at her captor, a playful smirk on her muzzle. “Well, ya know me; I’m such a bad little filly. Maybe you’d better make really sure I’ve been punished enough.”
“Hmm. Perhaps I should,” Octavia admitted with a smile of her own. “Very well. Consider this your education in the consequences of interrupting my practice.” She slowly lifted both of her hooves to hover over the firm roundness of Vinyl’s rear, pausing a second before bringing them down in a sudden impact that echoed like a whip. CRACK!
“Ow!”
Smack!
“Gah!”
Thwack!
“Buck!” Vinyl exclaimed as Octavia’s hoof made fierce contact with her buttocks yet again. Instinct compelled her to writhe and struggle to escape the stinging pain sinking deep into her flesh. No matter how hard she fought, though, Tavi’s weight kept her pinned in place. The simple reality of her inescapable predicament, at the mercy of the mare she adored, was intoxicating. It soothed her mind and dulled the pain. Her body wished to get away, but the rest of her loved it.
Whack! Octavia struck again, prompting Vinyl to begin wiggling to escape yet again. “Trying to get away from me, are you?” she cooed as her marefriend’s helpless bid for freedom sent shivers up her spine. “You truly are a disobedient mare.” Instead of striking Vinyl again, she allowed her hooves to rest on the angry red marks she had left, kneading the sore flesh in gentle circular motions.
Vinyl gasped as the tender, abused flesh of her rump was subjected to Octavia’s careful ministrations. A pained whimper died in her throat, replaced by a relieved sigh, as the light contact transmuted the stinging pain into something more subdued.
“But you are my disobedient mare, and I think you have had enough punishment,” Octavia whispered. “Do you promise not to interrupt my practice sessions anymore?”
“I’ll be a good girl,” Vinyl answered. “I won’t try to keep you from practicing anymore. I promise.”
“Thank you, Vinyl. Practice is very important to me and I don’t appreciate it being hindered.” She stopped massaging her marefriend’s rear to instead run a hoof through her soft mane. “But I know that you only wanted me to avoid overworking myself. And, to be honest, I’ve been neglecting you too much as of late. I promise you that I will do better in the future. Deal?”
“Deal,” Vinyl answered. “Can I get up now, Tavi?”
“In a minute, dear. In a minute.”
