Lemme Smash

>After a day of work, you come home with nothing more in mind than a cold beer.
>You know that's not going to play out, though.
>That griffon is going to be at your door with some trinket of indiscernible origin and will promptly ask you to "smash."
>Your house is in sight and... she's not there.
>For some reason that's disconcerting, but you let it slide for now as you walk in and grab a beer from the fridge.
>You sip from it as you make your way to the bedroom, unbuttoning your shirt as you do so.
>The light is flicked on and laying on the floor is a pony, bound and gagged, fear in their eyes.
>"Anon, I brought you purple! Let me smash!," comes Gilda from your bed.
>If you remember correctly, that's the local school teacher, Cheerilee was it?
"Alright, I let the whole obsession thing slide, I paid no mind when you followed me around, and I even turned a blind eye to the petty theft you performed trying to impress me. This is too far, Gilda. Let her go and leave."
>She slides off your bed and slowly circles the pony.
>"I can't do that, Anon. If I let her go, she'll go straight to the guards; I can't let them take us away from each other."
"Let her go and I'm sure we can just talk this out. No-one has to know."
>Cheerilee nods to this and makes agreeable mumbles.
>"That's not how it's going down, you're going to lemme smash and we'll keep her as our little secret."
"And if I let you smash, but wanted her to go free?"
>"I'd have to make her unable to talk," she places a talon on her throat.
>Cheerilee's eyes pinprick at this and she shakes even more than before.
"I..." you sigh, trying to think of a way out of this.
>You set your beer down on your dresser and look at yourself in the mirror.
"Get on the bed."
>Gilda makes a happy little half chirp half mew sound as she complies.
>Walking over to the foot of the bed and nearby the pony, you take your shirt off the rest of the way, breaking line of sight with Gilda enough to look to Cheerilee.
>In the brief few seconds you drop your pocketknife to her and mouth the words “run.”
>Your pants come off next and you’re crawling up the bed to her as she breathes heavily and you can practically see hearts in her eyes.
>What happened after that is a blur, though you recall the two of you becoming a sweaty heap of hormones and ecstasy.
>At one point a pair of guards barged in and one yelled “HALT, CRIMiinal sc-sc…,” before slowly backing out and waiting for the moaning, groaning, and panting to stop.
>After it was all done the two of you drifted to sleep in the afterglow, where Gilda was taken to a correctional facility and you were taken to a hospital for dehydration.
>You now visit her twice a month for conjugal Friday.