I had just gotten back from a trip to Las Pegasus and I felt like my world was ending; I didn't care that I'd missed my chances to ride some contraption that the commoners insisted was better than the best Appleloosan whore, nor that it started to rain and the weather ponies refused to take into consideration my trip coinciding with the date for their storms. What really had gotten to me was that the hotel staff didn't even remember my name. My name...
To top it all off, the moment I'd returned, Filthy wanted me to attend a soirée that I knew nothing about. I dared not challenge my own husband, but it made me feel like I had lost my prestige and that I was nothing next to him, little more than his pretty little whore.
I figured a little wine would take the edge off before I could get to bed. Oh, how wrong I was.
My little filly, my legacy, was there dancing with my favorite necklace on in the living room. She tripped...it broke...I broke. I tried to break her.
I don't really remember all of what I did next, but I remember some things. I remember her frozen in fear under me the moment I made my decision; I don't remember clearly, maybe the decision wasn't clear in the first place, but I know I wanted to make sure this would be a punishment she'd never forget.
The next memory is clear, but so revolting I wish it weren't; it's disgusting enough to lick a butthole, but your own daughter's? I don't remember her begging me to stop...maybe I wasn't listening, or maybe she was too scared of what else I'd do to her. Whatever the case, it went on long enough that I'd made a puddle I'm pretty sure wasn't just urine.
Next, I remember that it was still hard to get the bottle to fit up there. I remember a few of her screams, but worst of all, I remember how good it felt, and that she could see that in my eyes. I don't remember the bottle shattering, or Filthy finding us.
My next memory is that of waking up in the hospital to doctors telling me and Filthy that she'd be alright, that my little filly might be a little drunk, and sitting down might be painful for her, but that they'd gotten the pieces of glass out of her butt. They didn't know how it wasn't an accident. They actually thought she'd be alright after this.
Filthy couldn't look at me. I knew from his look that he'd called the guards. I didn't fight them when they took me away in hoofcuffs; it simply wasn't how a proper pony acted, even if I hadn't been resigned to my fate. Diamond Tiara, however, had woken up. She begged in a raspy voice to not take away mommy, despite all I'd done to her... I cried silently the whole way to my cell.
When they asked me about it, I told them everything. I rejected getting a lawyer. I told them I didn't want Diamond to have to point to her own mother in court, or even be asked what had happened, there was plenty of evidence at the hospital and what Filthy had seen, and Diamond casting out her own mother in court would be a loss of standing we would never recover from. They understood, and soon they were coming up with a plea agreement, something they said would help make sure nopony was hurt anymore by all of this.
When the agreement came, I had to sign some waiver. The gist of it was that some pony named "Moondancer" could, if she wanted to, shove a wine bottle up my butt, chop me open, and turn me into a living novelty garbage can that any common pony could use as they pleased. They looked at me like I was crazy when I relayed such a..."colorful" idea to them, insisting that there were merely some risks that needed to be covered, but I assured them that at that moment, I would love nothing more than to be given a fate worse than death for what I had done.