Discipline & Pleasure

Diamond Tiara’s week rushed by. She thought she would be conflicted upon leaving the dressmaker’s shop, much as she was last time, but by the time she had returned to home she had already affected the proper stance for a daughter intent on getting what she wants. The money wasn’t the issue. Breaking her date with Silver Spoon, however, took a little more cajoling. As pliable as her friend was in their relationship, she was still all sharp edges when it came to commitment.

Friday evening found the earth pony scuffing at the doorstep of the Carousel Boutique ten minutes before her appointment. The Boutique, per the cheerful sign posted outside, had been closed for an hour. It was that gap in the day, between the end of work for many ponies and the beginning of their weekends, when that usually low-traffic section of Ponyville was practically deserted. Nervous, she surveyed the empty street and imagined herself as the last pony in the world, like in one of the stories she was told as a foal, going to bargain with the Mare at the End of the World over the fate of the universe.

“And she raised her hoof to the door,” she recited quietly, her hoof hovering in the air, “and though she knocked, there was no answer,” she brought her hoof down on the door, once, twice, three times in succession.

Yet this was not a ponytale, and there was an answer. The door opened slowly, and the unicorn stood in the doorway wearing a gown of deep red, beckoning her in. She followed, feeling self-conscious about her lack of formal apparel.

“Right on time. I do hope you’re hungry,” the dressmaker gave her a welcoming smile as she led her to the kitchen.

The young mare was surprised by the simplicity of the food - a soup of grains, carrots and flowers sat simmering on the stove, with a side of wheat bread on their plates. Tiara had been expecting something else entirely. Where were the roses? Where was the cake? She looked up at the dressmaker, frowning out of habit. “Is there more? Or is this it?”

Rarity’s eyes went wide, and she coughed in surprise. It was her turn to frown. “Well I-. Apparently, Diamond Tiara, your your attention span is as short as your fuse, otherwise you would have remembered this from your reading.”

Her host levitated their dishes, ladling the soup with a precision that belied her heated tone. “Attitude, my dear, is everything. First and foremost, you must never insult your host in such a crude way - insults, when appropriate, are most appropriately delivered in a backhoofed manner, which leaves your target unable to respond without seeming rude themselves.

“Secondly, and more to the point, the meal I’ve prepared is fine. Eat it or don’t, we must set some terms before we continue.”

They seated themselves at the table, Tiara still frowning as she ate a soup which is even more disappointing than she expected. Rarity sighed and continued, “It’s good I got to you when I did - that frown is simply dreadful for your visage. Now then, we have 8 weeks until school starts again. I trust you brought the payment?” The filly nodded, chewing on a piece of bread.

“Good. Now, dare I ask, did you actually do the reading you were assigned?”

Tiara nodded again, mouth still full.

“Excellent. Tonight you will have a chance to demonstrate your knowledge, and I will introduce you to the basics of etiquette, an area in which you are sorely lacking and will serve you well in the future.”

She swallowed, and then frowned. This wasn’t what she had been expecting at all. “When are we gonna...you know...?”

The grin that crept onto Rarity’s face was practically lecherous, “Did you expect me to jump you after I let you in the door? No, young lady, I wasn’t lying when I said you needed to be taught manners. Besides, whatever would your father say if after two months his daughter was the same spoiled girl he had handed over to my capable hooves? I have a reputation to uphold, you realize.”

Rarity nudged the magenta filly in consolation, “I do think you’ll enjoy these lessons a bit more than Ms. Cheerilee’s, however, unless I’m quite mistaken about her methods of instruction.”

The meal concluded, she followed Rarity up to her bedroom, which was darkened but for the constellation of candles scattered throughout. On one wall, there was a table draped in black velvet.

“Take a seat on the bed,” the unicorn instructed as she moved to the table and began rifling below the velvet. The earth pony watched with curiosity.

“Now, as I have said, I consider your case rather serious. To think, that at your age you are still acting like a child. Unacceptable.”

Her horn glowing, the unicorn levitated a variety of objects above her head, “Therefore, you must be taught, severely. But you must also agree to this, because I wish to minimize the amount of whining I must suffer.”

The objects came to a rest at base of the bed. “This,” Rarity said, “is cloth, obviously. It would be used to bind you in a position more pliable to my instruction.”

The unicorn levitated a short, tapered black rod with a flat piece of material at the end before her. Its earthy smell filled the girl’s nostrils.

Leather. Real leather. She had no idea where the older mare had obtained something like this, as material produced from dead animals was only made in very limited quantities in a few parts of Equestria. Even her father didn’t have access to those kinds of resources. The mystery that suffused the object was as deep and rich as its scent.

“This is a crop,” Rarity continued, tapping the object in question upon the nightstand. Her speech was punctuated by the soft tck tck tck of leather against wood, striking in time with the clock. “You might recall it from history class.

“The punishment for a wrong answer is one lash, on your flank, at my discretion. The punishment for backtalk is the same. Correct answers will be rewarded as I see fit.”

Instructions completed, the dressmaker eyed her intently. “Will you agree to this?”

Diamond Tiara was surprised, to say the least. She had been expecting to be taken, perhaps forcefully, by the older mare, but this was a different level of intimacy. She knew some ponies indulged in this kind of thing but had no idea the dressmaker was one of them. It was perverted, weird, and embarrassing.

Or it was supposed to be. As surprised as she was, she was also curious. Rarity, wielding the lash over her - her, helpless, restrained. Dominated. Forced to follow the whims of her teacher. She felt a familiar wetness creeping between her haunches.

“Will it hurt?”

“Yes,” said Rarity, with a stern look, “but only as much as you want it to. If you wish me to stop, you need simply to tell me.”

“Then I agree,” Tiara replied. The bargain was struck.

The unicorn cleared her throat, lifting her chin and straightening her shoulders. “Now then, I want you to bend over on the bed, flank facing me.”

Tiara began to adjust her position, smirking as she did so. As she raised her flank, she swished her tail back and forth over her rear, watching her teacher bite her lip at the view between her haunches. Bringing her tail to rest on her back, she leaned forward, pushing her backside towards the unicorn, opening herself to her. The earth pony could feel how wet she was, and wanted her teacher to see as well.

“Now, bring your forelegs in front of you, and place them next to each other. We can’t have you running away during the lesson,” Rarity was staring at her, consuming every inch of her.

The cloth levitated over the prone filly, caressing her magenta coat as it wrapped around the joints in her back and forelegs. The knot at her front was simple yet somehow elegant to the filly. In the bedroom, like in the dresses she had seen in the showroom below, the unicorn put the utmost care into her work.

“How does that feel? Do you consider yourself sufficiently restrained?” the unicorn questioned her.

“It’s fine, not too tight,” she pushed against the binding, testing its resistance. There was some room to move, but not enough to remove unassisted. The earth pony felt herself getting wetter with anticipation.

When she glanced behind her, she saw the unicorn had shed her garment. Beneath, she was wearing a brilliant green corset, with matching stockings clipped to it. Her rear was covered in what appeared to be dark blue panties ringed with lace.

“Let us begin then,” Rarity levitated the crop, running it along her haunches, dragging it along her cutiemarks and rubbing briefly over her teats and mound. Tiara shivered at the sensation.

“We will start with a review of this week’s reading. I do hope you enjoyed the book as much as I did when I was your age. I will ask you some simple questions, you will answer as promptly. We will begin with the five basic elements of etiquette, if you could please name them.”

Her mind set to work. She really had tried do her reading, although in truth the book had been as dry as the withered old crone who had written it, and she had skimmed over large portions of text proclaiming the virtues of modesty and chastity.

“Style, poise, manners, lifestyle, and...”

The crop traced a slow ring around her cutiemark as she tried to think of the last rule. The sensation on her rear was not helping her think, and after a minute of this she sighed in frustration.

“I don’t know.”

A light rhythm began on her cutiemark, the crop tapping to the beat of some nameless song in the unicorn’s mind. After a moment the tapping ceased, and she caught her breath in anticipation of what would come next.

She waited. And waited. Releasing that breath, she peered behind her to see the crop suspended above her flank, surrounded by a purple aura. The dressmaker stood a few meters behind the bed, chewing on her lip.

When she noticed Diamond Tiara looking at her, Rarity withdrew the crop, the look of concern replaced with an uneasy smile.

“Well, you didn’t actually expect me to use this on you, did you?” the unicorn’s laughter was brief and nervous, the first time she had heard the mare stumble.

“Puh-leez. I would never. Well, not until we had a developed a rapport, that is, gotten to know one another a bit better. And on somepony who had never engaged in this kind of thing before? I would never! There are levels to how we do this, you understand.”

The dressmaker began to turn away, towards the table that the materials had come from, “I’m not just going to lay into you with a medieval torture device on your first day.”

“I want you to use it.”

“Pardon me?” Rarity froze, smile still on her lips.

“I want you to use it - the crop. I agreed. That’s what matters, right?”

“Are you absolutely sure, dear?” The expression on the unicorn’s face was pained, “I have plenty of paddles, and feathers - why, I think I’ve even got an edition of the Foal Free Press I could use if you like.”

“No, we agreed. I’m not some child, I can make up my own mind. And I want you to use the crop.”

She spoke without certainty, but the choice had become a point of pride. She was curious, though, and the enigma of the crop lingered in her nostrils.

“This is about my consent too, you realize. I’m not just going to whip you with anything at your command.”

“Fine,” Rarity said after a pause, conceding defeat to the younger mare's insistent silence. The implement in question still hovered in the air. “Very well. But before we continue, you must understand - this sort of accessory will leave marks very easily. It can also hurt. More than you think.”

Tiara nodded as much as she could from her position in the bed.

“And once again, I must remind you that we may end this at any time, if either of us are feeling less comfortable than we wish. You need say the word.”

The unicorn straightened her shoulders once again, eying Diamond Tiara’s rear with purpose. The hint of a smirk appeared on her lips.

“Now, where were we? Oh yes. Your answer.”

The filly jumped as the crop swatted her left flank, holding back a yelp which came more from surprise than pain.

“The last element of etiquette: being lovely. Don’t feel too bad, dear, it’s the easiest one to forget, but also the most important. A lady is lovely in all aspects of her life. To quote: “Elegance must be combined with loveliness, because one usually does not desire to be elegant simply for themselves, but to shed a little joy around her and beautify her world.”

Rarity huffed, pacing on the carpet. “Words to live by, young one. Remember them. Live by them.”

“I trust that didn’t hurt too badly?”

The earth pony scowled behind her back. The glancing blow hadn’t hurt much, but her ego was bruised. “But I got most of the answer right!” she raised her voice, mustering what dignity she could in her compromising position, “I didn’t deserve that!”

She cried out as the crop struck harder across her left flank.

“I didn’t ask for your opinion, young lady. That was for the backtalk, and I’m certain you’re feeling the difference between the first strike and the second.”

The unicorn’s tone softened, caressing her ears, “If you cannot treat me with base level of respect, this will go very poorly for the both of us. If you would like, we can find a more appropriate tool for the rest of our discourse, but it’s up to you.”

Diamond Tiara’s rear burned where the crop had come down on her. Her head buried deep in the maroon sheets of the bed, she was brought back to another time, very long ago, when her father had come home from work to discover that she had broken a new, very expensive toy. It was the only time he had ever spanked her, and he had apologized almost immediately afterward, returning home from work the next day with gifts which must have cost twice the price of the broken gadget.

She felt humiliated by the older mare. Here there was no apology to be had. But mixed with the pain was another warm sensation coming from deep within her, pulsing outward towards her teats and slit. She could feel her anger rising, tempered by her arousal and the mare’s warning. With some effort, the earth pony pushed it back down.

“Yes, I understand. It won’t happen again,” Tiara asserted, “and no, I don’t want to stop.”

The crop had begun making circles on her right flank.

“As you wish,” the unicorn sighed, shaking her head to dismiss the doubts that still nagged at her, “before we continue, however, I would appreciate a lovely apology.”

The filly felt her temper jump again. Before she could stop herself, she was yelling, her legs straining against the cloth tying them together, “Are you kidding me?”

Pain streaked across her right flank and she cried out again in surprise. Her breaths came in deep, shaky sobs into the covers as she processed the visceral consequences of her actions. The red covers stained with tears when she dragged her cheeks across it, burying her face. She was a foal again, a child unable to control herself. She was being punished. It was what she deserved.

As the immediate pain faded to a dull burning, she felt a tingling sensation in her inflamed rear. The pain itself was bearable, calculated with care by the unicorn, but the rush of blood when the crop had struck her had been dizzying, almost orgasmic. She had arrived at the edge of a great bright abyss, from which there was no return. Looking down, she saw its spectral depths beckoning her, embracing her with tendrils tinged in azure.

One more strike and that would be it. No more Diamond Tiara. She would be plunged over the edge into the unknown, dissolved, and doomed to whatever future lay on the other side.