Ponyhammer 41K

Winged Torment cackled with glee as she ran the razor whip again across the flank of the wanna be coltist. This was her legion, she would not have any other pony oppose her in any way as a claw chitted from one of her two hooves replaced with massive four pronged claws that looked like they belonged on a mutated crab. Her flesh had lost its coat of fur leaving nothing but leathery pink flesh. Her mane was made of living purple scaled snakes with white diamond markings in sets of three, the strands embroidered with a perversion of Rarity's cutie mark turned into a venomous cobra.

She had gained wings that were a combination of beautiful gems mixed with feathers and flesh. Nearly a hundred piercing ran her right side from tip of the ear to shoulder of the body. Each one adorned with a different ring, each ring a different setting and gem around a golden loop. Each gem had a tormented face, animated trying to escape; the soul of a captured pony turned into eternal torture just for Torment's amusement. She could listen to the symphony of their screams anytime she wished. It sung a song that only a true Rarite could appreciate.

She raised the whip once more and shouted around the knotted grip held tightly in her teeth, “Go on! Scream maggot! Scream for the Princess of Pleasures!” The razor blades along the scourge cracked into the tattered and abused flesh of what once was a pony. That unrecognizable creature that barely clung to life and would have surely been finished with another hit. The strike never landed. The whip stopped on a dime in air. The pony raised its head, bleeding from wounds larger than its legs. Most of the flesh had been rended off but there still was muscle and fat underneath. The heavy hits had only been upon the surface after all to drive the pony mad from raw open pain. The Coltist turning his swollen eyes to Winged Torment with awe, fear, and agony but there was something else deeper there: Love. A pure unfettered perverse love of its fate.

Gorefest Clopguzzler held the whip between his claws. His left arm made of six different dragon claws that broke off into short arms with their wrists and trifold digits holding the whip, equally spaced to cover it from tip right up to the grip in Torment's maw. Fresh blood ran from his gem like scales as they were cut into by the mono-molecule razors. “Mistress of Pleasures, I must insist that you take a moment. Your master of secrets has found what they sought,” he said, speaking in the third person since he could no longer decide if he was one entity or dozens of them from Rarity's free flow of thoughts that poured into his mind.

The dragonhad all of his scales replaced by gems of wondrous colors from head to toe. He looked like a walking elemental. Gorefest looked like a living sculpture, a master

craft of a mad artisan, comprised entirely of priceless jewels, each cut and placed to inhuman, peerless,

beautiful perfection. He tugged the whip hard enough to take it from the mare. She growled and howled at that, her play time had been interrupted.

Gorefest knew he had pushed the limit possibly too far. He knelt down, expecting a blow from the claws that would rotate like a blender and rend gems from his body till his lava like blood flowed out and turned the personal champion's chamber into a raging inferno. He sought to Rarity to all him to speak or give him that pleasure. The scream was so loud that it echoed down the halls, shattering glass throughout the mighty Princess Class Battleship as it floated through space. There have been tales that such howls could bring enough of the warp into the realm to cause space itself to have audible noise, driving everypony, dragon, and griffin into a temporary state of lust filled madness just to make the void go silent again.

“WHAT!” Winged Torment began, each word having a haggard breath between them. Each one sounding like it was forced from her throat and out between her gritted teeth. “IS SO IMPORTANT! That YOU! Dare INTERRUPT our PLEASURES?!” she shriekd out through the knotted rope in her muzzle. Her rage clearly burning towards Applejack's but mixed with a hint of disappointment and authority that could only come from someone being your dominatrix.

Gorefest Clopguzzler knew if he did not actually give a good enough reason, he would experience 100 years of torture mixed with pleasure until his mind couldn't tell the difference again. The drugs, tortures, and pleasures he would be exposed to would be made specifically to break his mind and turn him into another living dildo drake for the champions of Rarity to use and abuse till they got bored. Even being Master of Secrets of the Legion of Excess would not protect him.

“My mistress, I assure you, it is worth it. The secret revealed has come at the 11th hour of the 40th millennium.” Gorefest spoke quickly, lest the implication against the Mistress’s shortcoming raise

her ire more. “It is now the 41st millennium and if you had not been, indulging in your namesake, you would sensed it. Pinkamenia returns with her coltists of the abyssal leading the charge. And if I am correct, she just took material form once again, ahead of our blessed goddess of pleasures.”

Winged Torment's disappointed gaze eased, she took a hoof forward and her head lowered to be eye level with the near groveling dragon which hoped to not become a dildo drake. “Good...We knew why we agreed for you to become our master of secrets for a reason. You know just when you can interrupt us.” Torment spoke, her voice switching back to a royal tone now that her rage was quelled. “We won't degrade you into a mindless piece of clopping meat,” the mare replied. She placed the whip grip into the eager mouths of the snakes that made up her mane, which began to bite into it and infuse the pain and orgasm causing poisons into the fibers again. The whip in her mane was passed from snake to snake, to keep the infection going and entirely unknown to them much less the one whom they are apart of.

“Let us go, we must acquire more crystal ponies to rend and torment for our mistress, if we truly wish Rarity to come back and rule this galaxy. Only she can turning it from the ugliness we see, into a visage of excessive beauty.” Torment spoke, her features illuminated to be too alien for a pony. This was alien of artificial design made flesh. Her eyes were just the right size compared to her head to look like a barely matured foal. Meanwhile her face was too perfect, too well crafted for something natural. It was like beauty you would expect to see far away but when it held up as you came nose to nose with the mare, it shocked and recoiled you. She trotted off as the dragon stayed knelt before he was ordered to move. “Come Clopguzzler, we have work to do.”