The guardpony did all he could to fend off the intruder, even as he literally bent to her will. Pins, chokeholds, joint and compression locks – she hosted a veritable grappling clinic in the dimly lit library, manipulating his body like it was her personal practice dummy. Three years of combat training were all that kept his lungs working and his bones intact – for the most part. Again and again he managed to wriggle free of her submission holds (eventually), and again and again she caught him, marehandled him, humbled him.

Utterly humiliated him.

He put up a decent fight but still the contest ended with the earth mare glued to his back, her forelegs coiled around his neck, hinds fully extended as they scissored his trunk.

"Try not to wheeze too loudly." The arousal in her voice was palpable. "After all, this is a library."

Leaning against a bookshelf, she shut her eyes and gritted her teeth and flexed all four limbs. Her quads ballooned to compress his trunk, looking suddenly thicker and firmer and curvier in her thigh-highs, while her bicep and forearm sank deeply into either side of his neck. A low and oddly sensual "Nnnnggghhhh…" rolled off her lips, tumbled into his ear.

She punctuated the grunt with a breathy, "Yeah… that’s it," her tone brimming with the kind of carnal satisfaction that often followed the first bite of a hot meal, the initial sip of a cold drink. A taste – just a taste – and she wanted more.

Gradually, she wrung the air from his lungs and the fight from his spirit. He groped at a dense bicep with one hoof and a bulging quad with the other, his mind swimming as he struggled to gain purchase on either, to grip them and wrench them away. The mare chuckled at his efforts.

Feeling her gaze on him, he craned his neck and tilted his chin toward the ceiling. His eyes rolled upward to meet hers. She smiled and rested her jaw atop his head: a gentle gesture, almost intimate.

"You’re not very good at this, are you?" Something new had snuck into her sultry tone, meshing seamlessly with the arousal. Tenderness? Compassion? "Meet me at the courtyard once you wake up. If you don’t turn me in, I promise to teach you all my best moves."

Something about the way she said "all" made his wings twitch. If not for the solid chest pressed to his back, they would have jutted to their full length, stiffened to their full rigidity.

The last thing he felt before passing out was her teeth grazing his ear. Maybe she whispered something else, maybe not. He wasn’t sure. He was only semi-conscious now, already drifting off to sleep, and looking forward to their rendezvous in the courtyard.