I could imagine to some aspect if it was systematic procedure. Sanitized and articulate in some aspects.
 
>you decided on a sepia brown room with dimmed lights as your theater
>soft on the eyes, though you found your 'research participants' clenching their eyes in ambiguous agony anyway
>before you begin, you don your surgeon smock, lest a repeat incident occurred of a participant expelling urine from over stimulation
>you hear in the background the subject struggle against the bonds, her words muffled by the gag
>giving a deep breath, you put on your goggles and accompanying surgeon mask
"Reliability of results can only obtained through diligent method."
>you are already quite familiar with this mantra, but procedure dictates you recite it before every experiment
>turning, you see your subject looking over at you, her eyes darting from you to the trolley of tools next to her
>retrieving a recorder from your breast pocket, with a click you walk around the table, recording your initial observations
"Experiment number 6. Mare, young adult. Orange coat with a blonde mane. Possesses a cutie-mark on right buttock, in the appearance of three red apples."
>She struggles more, her threats muffled as she glares at you defiantly
>As you circle around once more, you take your finger and trace it along her barrel
"Zero O Nine, initial contact dose administered, experiment begins"
 
>her fur twitches at the caress. Initial involuntary action.
>with your first experiment, you first tried to do this with surgical gloves. Though sanitized, they hindered the caress, catching on the fur, and eliminating the responsiveness of the participant
>with bare fingers, you could feel every strand of bristle fur, and subtle muscle twitch just underneath
>A good way to test the waters as it were
"Zero ten one. Temprature, 99.2. Blood pressure, 120 over 70. Breathing regular. Focus clear"
>the reader besides the bed's lights flicker every few seconds, providing an update on any changes in biometric information
>a combination of some medical equipment rigged to work with magical monitoring can do wonders
>it doesn't interfere with the subject, who's only reaction should be the stimulus you provide
>moving your finger to her shoulder, you trace around in circles, before moving down to her forearm
>you have to admire the anatomy of the current subject.
>Though experiment number 1 did possess rather similar physique for a pegasus, you relished the opportunity to work much more meticulously on a mare with such well developed muscle structure
 
>Continuing your exploration down her forearm and knee you notice her still struggling as before, but not out of aversion to the touch
>Seems her occupation has made her somewhat more... resilient to your methods
>Compared to Experiment number 3, the whimpering yellow mare, who almost immediately buckled at your initial contact, this one will require advanced care
>You reach over and, in a delicate plucking motion, start working down her leg, past the coronet, until you reach the soft underside of her hoof
"Zero fifteen. Pulse, 110. Blood pressure, 140 over 90. Sweat glands aroused. Slight constriction of pupils. Inducing stage two..."
>Now you are making headway. A softspot of nerve clusters. You'll start here, and make your way back. That way her body will have time to perceive any additional contact as further stimulation
>Reaching over to the table, you procure a tiny filoplume feather
>twisting and twirling it between your fingers, you let it kiss the underside of her hoof
>Her hoof immediately trembles underneath the synthetic cuff, desperately trying to pull away to no avail
>You give a deep satisfying breath once more, for this has only started
 
>walking over to the other side of the operation table, you give her other hoof the same treatment
>a mirror reaction occurs, with an almost jerklike fashion she tries to pull away from the caress of the feather
>clearly by this point she is onto your intentions, renewing her futile escape efforts
>before you move onto the main target, you decide to procure another dainty feather
>wielding both in a dual fashion, you decide to amuse both the undersides of her legs, just behind the knees
>her legs buckle from the tandem assault, as you see the tendons and veins bulge from her exertion
>you can hear her muffled protests, faintly hinting at you having to stop at once
>cocking your eyebrow, you disregard her objections, too busy admiring the spastic contractions of her sculpted leg muscles
>in a movement similar to that of an orchestral conductor, you move both feather's up, until you reach her gaskin and stifle
>Sometimes you'd like to entertain the notion that your experiments blend the boundaries between art and science
>to some aspect it could be, for what external stimuli could produce such delightful reactions without resorting to frivolous abstracts such as poetry or comedy
>you continue the task at hand, spelling the alphabet in phantom fashion upon her thighs
"Zero twenty one. Temperature at 100. Increased dilation of pupils, and rise in the tempo of breath. Alpha and beta waves moving from cranial anterior to posterior. Rising sense of euphoria and well-being intermixed with agitation and terror."
 
>her legs try to close shut, her hips twisting and grinding noisily against the mattress underneath
>taking this opportunity, you reach for your latest experimental tool, whilst alternating between her thighs with your remnant hand
>From the table you proudly display in the light two feathers, one bright green with a blue hued tip, the other crimson red with a similar finish
>feathers from Eclectus roratus, or Eclectus parrots, one male and one female respectively
>It took quite some research and experimentation to get just the right feather for administering such advanced treatment
>You discard the earlier feather and take the new in hand, gently crossing the vanes
>they briefly interlock, before brushing over your wrist.
>Silken soft, yet rigid enough to still apply pressure with
"Perfect..." you utter out loud
"Zero twenty six. Increasing input stimulus to maximum"
>Like an artist's paintbrush, you briskly caress her girth, tucked behind her elbow.
>two light strokes, followed by a prolonged, agonizingly slow deep stroke
>her reaction is priceless, her body writhing and twisting
>her abdominal muscles contract, the light casting a riffled shadow across her belly
"Zero twenty seven. Temperature rising to 103.2. Pulse, 160. Blood pressure 190 over 120. Displaying symptoms of disorientation accompanied by aggravated terror and euphoric contractions. Profuse sweating, rapid breathing and extreme dilation of pupils. Inducing stage three. Proceeding to remove gag to aid in elevated respiratory action."
 
>You reach over and undo the secure gag over her muzzle
>Instantly her bellowing laugh echoes within the theater
>Incoherent and babbling, she practically pleads you to stop
>Every guffaw is blended with gasp for air
>you proceed regardless, and move the feathers up to just underneath her throatlatch
>In similar strokes, you caress her sensitive neck
>As a result, she jolts her head side to side, trying to ward off the colorful invaders
>Her eyes are clenched shut, a few odd droplets rolling down her cheeks
>In one final breath and bodily spasm, she goes limp on the table, her tongue lolling out slightly
>"Zero thirty one. Core temperature dropped to 99 and falling. Pulse down to 90. Blood pressure 100 over 60 and falling. Eyelids flickering."
>you slowly retract the feathery tool, before returning it to it's spot on the table
>Her breathing has stabilized, her eyes finally coming to rest.
>"Zero thirty four. Subject has fallen into unconsciousness. Body in a state of near inertion save for rising and falling of the breath. No further reaction to external stimuli. EEG shows cerebral activity has switched over to delta wave frequency."
>Making a mental note to start prepping to return the orange mare back to where you procured her
>you walk over to the doorway, removing your facemask as you do so
>You think to yourself that this has gone quite fell
>Further improvement of your technique
>To one day culminate into a grand exercise upon the one mare that inspired it all for you
>Before you turn off the light, and switching off the tape recorder you make a final entry
"Zero forty one. Experiment ends"