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>”Heya, Anon! Uh... whatcha got there?”
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>You keep a firm grasp on the whip, running it through your fingers as the Pegasus examines it.
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>”Can I have a go of it?”
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>Her eyes light up as she looks expectedly; awaiting an answer that’s never going to come.
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>Instead, you swing the whip around your head and let it snap against the side of her face.
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>She shudders in pain, grasping at her cheek.
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>”Anon! What the f-“
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>You’re fast, though; before she can get the word out the whip lashes across her back with a loud, reverberating crack.
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>She staggers, you see her face is now wracked with pure, primal fear; a fight or flight response.
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>She opts for flight, but she’s not fast enough; you strike her wing as she opens it and draw blood.
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>With a wail the pony falls to the floor, using the burst of adrenaline to try and crawl away.
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>It’s a frenzied fight between the Pegasus and your whip, but ultimately the harsh band of leather is too much for her; it cracks across her back and floors her again.
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>She’s sobbing; looking at you and pleading for you to stop; scared and confused.
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>You hit her in the face again and she screams.
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>A long, blood-curdling shriek doused in pure agony. There’s nothing pretty about the sound, and it almost makes you feel sorry for her. Almost.
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>She barely has time to recover from that last hit before you give her another, giving her a firm kick with your foot to keep her on the ground.
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>Your boot keeps her pinned, grinding into her back, so hard and merciless you hear a rib pop and snap.
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>Her sobbing becomes wailing; screaming as loud and harsh as her lungs will possibly allow.
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>This is the kind of scream no pony could ever replicate; the sound of distilled, helpless fear.
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>You break the whip over her again and leave a fresh red score.
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>Again, and again.
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>It’s easier to be more precise with your whipping now she’s pinned beneath you, and you do not hold back.
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>Though she’s trying to still beg for mercy her cries become an amalgam of piteous whimpers and desperate screams.
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>You keep whipping until you break skin; watching the blood spill like fresh pomegranate juice.
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>She’s writhing, desperately trying to get free, but with every thrashing and every new scar you give her her struggles grow less fervent; she begins to slow as the energy leaves her.
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>More blood. More scars. With every single one her muscles seize her and she falls into a tremulous mess.
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>You hear the snap of some of the smaller bones in her wing breaking as the whip hits them.
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>At a certain point, the Pegasus stops making any kind of noise at all.
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>She’s just shivering, teeth chattering.
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>Her cowardly brain has decided to shut the world out and away from her.
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>That’s not good enough, though. You’re going to get a reaction out of her if it’s the last thing you do.
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>Your foot keeps a firm pressure on the upper part of her wing, your hand grabs further along the wider trunk of the appendage and you pull.
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>You feel the muscles distend the wing out to its full extension, and then a little further.
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>It stretches beyond its limits with a meaty crack, a jolt of pain washing through her entire body and accompanied by a shivering, quaking moan of agony.
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>Her wing falls broken and bent, twitching painfully at her side.
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>A reaction, sure, but you really want to make this Pegasus scream.
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>The choice of objects around you are limited, so you settle on holding the handle of the whip reversed; a tough, wide leather grip that remains in your grasp as you bend over at the hind end of the quivering pony.
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>Her trail brushed aside; you see a pool of something golden has collected beneath her.
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>The stupid animal has pissed herself. How pitiful.
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>You waste no time in wetting your fingers in your mouth and pressing them into that muscled ring that pokes out just below the tail and just above her cunt; a ripple of little quivers make it tense up, but with enough effort your fingers slide in.
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>You push them as deep as they’ll go, ripping them back out and then deciding she’s ready for the real thing.
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>The wide handle of the whip rests against her ponut.
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>You jut it forwards violently, tearing inside her rectum and causing the Pegasus to let out a desperate yell of anguish.
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>You’re honestly not even sure if at this point it’s her screaming or just her body reacting to the intense pain.
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>You pull it out with as much force as you pushed it in; with it it seems to pull some of the sensitive lining of her rectal wall away, a splatter of blood that leaks and bubbles through her closed-off anus.
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>Another penetration; once more showing her asshole no mercy as the wide end of the whip plunges deep inside.
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>The muscles in her lower body twitch and convulse in little dancing patches that extend down over her flanks and upper legs.
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>She’s a mess.
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>Beyond a mess; she could be likened more to a cesspit.
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>Just for fun you grab a hold of one of her fetlocks and give it a twist, seeing how far it can rotate before it snaps; you feel the tendons that reside deep under her skin snap and shrink up into the muscles that claim them, leg detached from its socket and hanging loose.
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>You stand above the wrecked pegasus; under her sweaty, agitated mane are the two half-moons of her eyes; bloodshot and staring forwards, not really looking at anything, just... open.
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>You watch as her whole body trembles again; a muscular reaction that’s out of her control.
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>Her bladder empties a little more as a shrill, blood-curdled fart leaks through her tight shithole helplessly.
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>She’s so low and pathetic it makes you feel sick.
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>You whip out your dick, already about as hard as it can be, and hold it expectedly over her.
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>There’s no acknowledgement or reaction to it, and there continues to be none as a fresh arc of piss splashes down over her face.
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>It wets her mane and drips onto her coat; a matted dark mess of fur.
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>You let your stream trickle down over her body, as the salty liquid hits her still-fresh wounds her body convulses again.
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>Just as your bladder is almost empty, you use a boot to roll her body over onto her back, jaw falling open as her head flops back.
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>You make sure to fill her mouth with the last few drops of your piss.
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>If any semblance of Rainbow Dash is alive in there, she at least now has something to drink.
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>One last dry chuckle is all you have to offer her.
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