>”Heya, Anon! Uh... whatcha got there?”
>You keep a firm grasp on the whip, running it through your fingers as the Pegasus examines it.
>”Can I have a go of it?”
>Her eyes light up as she looks expectedly; awaiting an answer that’s never going to come.
>Instead, you swing the whip around your head and let it snap against the side of her face.
>She shudders in pain, grasping at her cheek.
>”Anon! What the f-“
>You’re fast, though; before she can get the word out the whip lashes across her back with a loud, reverberating crack.
>She staggers, you see her face is now wracked with pure, primal fear; a fight or flight response.
>She opts for flight, but she’s not fast enough; you strike her wing as she opens it and draw blood.
>With a wail the pony falls to the floor, using the burst of adrenaline to try and crawl away.
>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.
>She’s sobbing; looking at you and pleading for you to stop; scared and confused.
>You hit her in the face again and she screams.
>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.
>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.
>Your boot keeps her pinned, grinding into her back, so hard and merciless you hear a rib pop and snap.
>Her sobbing becomes wailing; screaming as loud and harsh as her lungs will possibly allow.
>This is the kind of scream no pony could ever replicate; the sound of distilled, helpless fear.
>You break the whip over her again and leave a fresh red score.
>Again, and again.
>It’s easier to be more precise with your whipping now she’s pinned beneath you, and you do not hold back.
>Though she’s trying to still beg for mercy her cries become an amalgam of piteous whimpers and desperate screams.
>You keep whipping until you break skin; watching the blood spill like fresh pomegranate juice.
>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.
>More blood. More scars. With every single one her muscles seize her and she falls into a tremulous mess.
>You hear the snap of some of the smaller bones in her wing breaking as the whip hits them.
>At a certain point, the Pegasus stops making any kind of noise at all.
>She’s just shivering, teeth chattering.
>Her cowardly brain has decided to shut the world out and away from her.
>That’s not good enough, though. You’re going to get a reaction out of her if it’s the last thing you do.
>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.
>You feel the muscles distend the wing out to its full extension, and then a little further.
>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.
>Her wing falls broken and bent, twitching painfully at her side.
>A reaction, sure, but you really want to make this Pegasus scream.
>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.
>Her trail brushed aside; you see a pool of something golden has collected beneath her.
>The stupid animal has pissed herself. How pitiful.
>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.
>You push them as deep as they’ll go, ripping them back out and then deciding she’s ready for the real thing.
>The wide handle of the whip rests against her ponut.
>You jut it forwards violently, tearing inside her rectum and causing the Pegasus to let out a desperate yell of anguish.
>You’re honestly not even sure if at this point it’s her screaming or just her body reacting to the intense pain.
>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.
>Another penetration; once more showing her asshole no mercy as the wide end of the whip plunges deep inside.
>The muscles in her lower body twitch and convulse in little dancing patches that extend down over her flanks and upper legs.
>She’s a mess.
>Beyond a mess; she could be likened more to a cesspit.
>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.
>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.
>You watch as her whole body trembles again; a muscular reaction that’s out of her control.
>Her bladder empties a little more as a shrill, blood-curdled fart leaks through her tight shithole helplessly.
>She’s so low and pathetic it makes you feel sick.
>You whip out your dick, already about as hard as it can be, and hold it expectedly over her.
>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.
>It wets her mane and drips onto her coat; a matted dark mess of fur.
>You let your stream trickle down over her body, as the salty liquid hits her still-fresh wounds her body convulses again.
>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.
>You make sure to fill her mouth with the last few drops of your piss.
>If any semblance of Rainbow Dash is alive in there, she at least now has something to drink.
>One last dry chuckle is all you have to offer her.