This is part nine of the 'A Heist too Far' series.
Previous:
Finnick was still stacking his blocks, occasionally glancing over at Eden who hummed contentedly while coloring, when Jasper came bounding back around the corner with two other young bunny kits in tow—Ellie and little Braxton. The trio was clearly looking for trouble, and Jasper's earlier taunt had given him momentum.
"Stinky fox butt! Stinky fox butt!" Jasper chanted again, louder this time, hopping in a circle around Finnick's block tower. Ellie giggled and joined in, while Braxton clapped his paws.
Finnick's ears pinned back. His tower wobbled as one of the bunnies bumped it. "Knock it off, you little shits!" he snapped, the curse slipping out before he could stop it. "Go bug someone else or I'll—"
A deep, familiar voice cut through the air like a whip. "Finnick."
Stu Hopps stood at the edge of the porch, arms crossed, his overalls dusty from morning chores. His expression was stern, ears upright and serious. The bunny children froze mid-giggle. Finnick's blood ran cold as he realized Grandpa had heard everything.
"Come here, young man. Now," Stu commanded, voice low and disappointed.
Finnick's tail tucked between his legs as he stood up on shaky paws, leaving his crooked block tower behind. The other kits scattered quickly, sensing the shift in the air. Stu knelt down to Finnick's level, placing a firm paw on the little fennec's shoulder.
"I think we ALL heard what you just said to your cousins," Stu began, his tone heavy with disapproval. "That kind of language is never acceptable in this house, especially not toward the little ones. They're just playing, Finnick. If they were bothering you so much, you could have gone and grabbed an adult. Rough words like that hurt feelings and set a terrible example. You know better than that. We've talked about respect, and you've been doing so well lately... but this? Unfortunately, this crosses a line."
Finnick stared at the wooden planks of the porch, ears burning. "I... they were calling me stinky and knocking over my stuff..." he mumbled, but the defiance drained quickly under Stu's steady gaze.
"That's no excuse," Stu replied firmly. "You can stand up for yourself without swearing. Words have power, son, and you don't get to use them like weapons here. Now, you're going to learn this the old-fashioned way. Go out to the edge of the yard by the willow tree and pick a switch. A good, sturdy one. Bring it back to me. Don't make me wait."
Finnick's eyes widened. A switch. He'd heard the older kits whisper about it, but this was the first time it was aimed at him. His padded bottom tingled with dread. "Grandpa... please, I didn't mean—"
"Go on," Stu said, pointing toward the trees. "The sooner you do it, the sooner it's over."
Finnick waddled off the porch nervously whimpering with every step. His heart pounded as he reached the willow tree at the yard's edge. Branches and thin switches hung low. He stared at them, paws trembling. *Which one? Too thin and it'll be over quick, but Grandpa might think I'm trying to cheat. Too thick and it'll sting worse...* He paced back and forth, muttering under his breath, ears flat. Several minutes passed as he agonized, testing a few and discarding them. Finally, he settled on one about as thick as his finger—flexible but strong—and snapped it off with a shaky paw. He hurried back toward the porch, clutching the switch like it was burning his pads, glancing nervously at the growing audience of curious bunny children who had gathered at a respectful distance.
Stu waited on the porch steps, expression unchanged. He took the switch from Finnick's paw, flexing it once with a sharp *swish*. "Good choice. Now, over here."
With many of the younger (and some older) Hopps kits watching wide-eyed from the yard and porch railing, Stu sat down on the wide wooden bench. He pulled Finnick close, and tugged the fennec's diaper down to his ankles, exposing his bare bottom. Finnick whimpered, face burning with humiliation.
"You'll get ten good ones for the swearing and disrespect," Stu said calmly.
*Swish-CRACK!*
The first stroke landed sharply across Finnick's bare rear. He yelped loudly, paws flying back instinctively. "Eep!"
Stu delivered the rest with steady, measured swings—each one leaving thin red lines and drawing sharp cries from the little fennec. By the fifth, Finnick was kicking his legs and sobbing. The switch stung shaper than the furbrush, biting into his sensitive fur and making his whole bottom throb. The watching bunny children stayed quiet, some covering their mouths, others shifting uncomfortably.
*CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!*
"OWIE…Wahhh…!" Finnick wailed as the last one landed. His bottom was a crisscross of stinging lines, bright red and burning.
Stu pulled the diaper back up (though loosely, for now) and stood Finnick on his feet. "Corner time, young man. March."
He led a sniffling, limping Finnick to a randomly designated timeout corner on the porch—sitting down and pouting. Stu walked to the kitchen and grabbed a new bar of soap. He didn’t lather it up this time as it was a first offence and the bar alone usually did the job. "Open."
Finnick obeyed with a miserable sob. Stu gently placed the soap in his mouth, the bitter taste making him scrunch his face. "Bite down lightly and hold it there. Think about why we don't use ugly words. Five minutes."
The time dragged on agonizingly. Finnick sat there, bottom on fire, a little soap foaming slightly in his mouth, tears dripping down his muzzle while the bunny children occasionally peeked but mostly gave him space. The sting and the shame sank in deep. When the five minutes ended, Stu returned. He removed the soap, wiped Finnick's muzzle with a damp cloth, handed him a cup of water to rinse his mouth with, and pulled him into a brief but firm hug. "All done with the punishment. Now you make it right."
Finnick, still red-faced and teary, waddled over to the group of bunny children who had gathered nearby. His voice was small and shaky.
"I'm... I'm sorry for calling you guys bad words. That was mean. I shouldn't have said that. I won't do it again."
The kits murmured acceptance—Jasper even looked a little guilty himself. Eden hopped over and offered him a crayon again. Stu nodded approvingly from the porch. "Good boy. Now go play nicely."
Finnick adjusted his diaper with a wince, the switch's marks still burning under his diaper. He rejoined the play area more quietly this time, sitting carefully on a hay bale. The lesson had been learned—the hard way—but as the afternoon sun warmed the yard and the other kits slowly included him again, a tiny part of him felt... steadier. Like the farm was sanding down his rough edges.
Finnick sat gingerly on the hay bale, wincing every time he shifted. A constant reminder not to let his street mouth get the better of him. The bunny kits gave him a little space at first, but soon enough Jasper wandered back over, kicking a small fabric ball.
“Sorry ’bout the stinky butt stuff,” Jasper mumbled, ears drooping. “Wanna play kickball with us?”
Finnick rubbed his sore bottom with one paw and gave a small nod. “Yeah… okay. Just… no more chanting.”
The game was chaotic and silly—more chasing and tumbling than actual rules. Finnick’s shorter legs and diaper made him slower than the bunnies, but he managed to score once, earning cheers from the little ones. For a while he almost forgot the spanking. Almost. From the kitchen window, Bonnie watched with a soft smile while Judy dried dishes beside her.
“He’s coming along,” Bonnie said quietly. “That switch has a nasty sting, but it’s honest. Stu’s always been fair with it.”
Judy nodded, glancing out at her “son.” “I hate seeing him cry like that… but he needed it. The bright side is he’s been testing boundaries less and less. Nick’s been worried he’d never settle in.”
**Later that afternoon...**
The sun climbed higher and the play moved toward the big shade tree. Finnick was building another block tower—this time with help from Eden—when Nick strolled out from the barn, wiping sweat from his brow after helping Stu with some fence repairs.
“Well well, if it isn’t my favorite troublemaker,” Nick teased, ruffling Finnick’s ears. He noticed the way the little fennec fidgeted and raised an eyebrow. “Rough morning, huh?”
Finnick’s ears flattened. “Grandpa heard me say a bad word… to Jasper and them. I got the switch.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “It really hurt, Papa.”
Nick’s playful smirk softened. He sat down on the grass beside him, pulling Finnick carefully next to him despite the wince. “Oof. Yeah, I’ve heard stories about Grandpa’s switches. You okay, kiddo?”
Finnick leaned against Nick’s shoulder, the familiar scent of fox and farm work oddly comforting. “I apologized like Grandpa said. Didn’t mean to… it just slipped out.”
“Good. That’s the important part,” Nick said, rubbing his back gently. “Mistakes happen. The little bunnies look up to you now, whether you like it or not. You’re their big cousin Finnick.”
A tiny smile tugged at Finnick’s muzzle. “Big cousin who still wears diapers…”
Nick chuckled. “A very stylish and cute one. Speaking of which—” He gave the seat of Finnick’s diaper a quick, discreet pat. “Still dry. Good job not making a mess during all that running around.”
Finnick groaned and hid his face in Nick’s shirt. “DDDaaaAAddd…!”
**Snack time arrived shortly after.**
Bonnie called everyone in for apple slices, carrot sticks, and sippy cups of juice. Finnick walked inside with the group. Stu was already at the big table, and he gave Finnick a warm, approving nod as the fennec climbed into his high chair.
“No hard feelings, sport?” Stu asked quietly while Bonnie fastened the tray.
Finnick shook his head. “No, Grandpa. I won’t say it again.”
“That’s my boy.” Stu reached over and gave his paw a gentle squeeze.
The rest of the afternoon passed more calmly. Finnick helped Bonnie collect eggs from the chicken coop (with strict instructions not to chase the hens….though the hens had other ides), napped in his crib without complaint, and even let Nick change him afterward without too much fuss—though he still complained loudly when Nick fumbled the powder again.
That evening, after dinner and another splashy bath (this time supervised by Judy), the family gathered in the living room. Finnick, freshly diapered and zipped into soft blue footie pajamas with little carrot patterns, curled up between Nick and Judy on the big couch while Stu read a farm storybook aloud to the younger kits.
As the story went on, Finnick’s eyes grew heavy. The switch marks had faded to a dull warmth, the soap taste long gone. He felt… safe. Annoyed at times, embarrassed often, but safe.
Judy noticed and gently stroked his ears. “Proud of how you’ve been doing, sweetie. Tomorrow’s a new day.”
Nick chuckled and patted the top of his head. “Well….behave and we won’t need any little diaper blaster.”
As the fire crackled and the burrow filled with quiet giggles and yawns, Finnick drifted off—surrounded by the chaotic, loving Hopps family that was slowly becoming his own.
The next few days followed a similar rhythm. Finnick’s language stayed clean (mostly), his farm chores increased a little, and he even started asking Bonnie if he could help bake again. The switch incident became another story the older kits teased him about gently—but never meanly.
Really enjoying this series so far, there's not nearly enough stories / art of Finnick getting punished and this series now accounts for like half of what's out there XD And I love the fluff and comfort bits in here as well. Hope to see it continue for a bit longer but either way thanks for comissioning these. ^-^
Really enjoying this series so far, there's not nearly enough stories / art of Finnick getting punis
Thanks and I bet I account for most of this theme haha. I have the whole story written out and am getting images of every key moment along the way. At least 5 more pictures coming. Probably more.
Thanks and I bet I account for most of this theme haha. I have the whole story written out and am ge
Oh most definitely, I think I've only seen one other story out there involving a regression/corporal punishment option in lieu of prison time theme for the little fennec and the author stopped updating it years ago. Very happy to see you explore it since it's a very niche topic but one I enjoy reading for any character really. Looking forward to the rest of the story and the art to come ^-^
Oh most definitely, I think I've only seen one other story out there involving a regression/corporal
