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>Be Gleaming Shield.
>This wasn't going as it was supposed to.
>When a colt gets cocky and challenges an uprising guardsmare...
>... you're supposed to refuse.
>... you're supposed to be a gentlemare and act chivalrous
>... you're supposed to be go easy on him.
>... you're supposed to let him win.
>Any, or a combination of that.
>What's not supposed to happen is to fall into a situation like this.
>Your magic is dwindling, as is your stamina... as are your nerves.
>You've used most of your arsenal of spells, even the actually hurtful ones, but everything just seems to slide of the exotic creature like water off freshly oiled armor.
>After you had realized that you tried to use your superior speed, but that didn't bear any fruit either.
>At first you assumed you could fight him like a minotaur, but his center of gravity and agility was on a completely different level.
>Even if you manage to hit him with a training spear, he wouldn't be toppled over.
>Most of the time he'd just bat them away as were they an annoyance.
>Once you tried a different tactic and swept the spear at his legs.
>To think he would just jump over it like it was a game!
>You take pride in your spearsmareship!
>“What's the matter Gleamy? Getting tired?”
>Your face contorts in fury at his taunt.
>“I see sweat on your ~gleamy~ coat now.”
>You charge.
>Not senselessly.
>You know when an enemy is trying to get inside your head and wants you to make a mistake.
>Joke's on him.
>You... You are merely pretending to be enraged. That's right!
>Well, maybe a little.
>You still let him believe that your actions are guided by your emotions and that this was a senseless charge, not that you were going to feint him.
>He makes a quick step to fortify his standing.
>You ignite your horn and grab the base of your spear to redirect your thrust- 
>He jumps.
“Wha-?”
>You swing your head around as he flies over you.
>He was using his own spear to-
>You can't make sense of what what was happening before it was already over.
>His spear touched down in an angle behind you and he was holding onto it to stop the momentum of his jump.
>He came crashing down upon you.
>As you had been using one of your forehooves to hold onto the spear your front was only held up by a single hoof.
>Unable to support his weight and counteract your own forward momentum you faceplant into the gravel.
>Of course, you plan to immediately throw him off, but then this hand of his presses down at the nape of your neck, right at the base of your mane.
>You immediately freeze.
>No stallion has touched you there before.
>You barely nuzzled with one.
>Don't be stupid!
>It's... it's merely a point of leverage!
>You are fighting, not...
>Hnng.
>There is this exotic creature on you, pushing you down, and his hand...
>Those fingers of his, like claws, dig lightly into you.
>He wasn't breaking any skin, of course, but your instincts take over and wanted you to kick the clawed predator off.
>Little good that did.
>The opposite, in fact.
>Your hindlegs barely find grounding again and youre position was even more indecent now.
>Face on the ground, hindlegs spread apart, and a colt atop of you gripping your neck.
>To make humiliation worse, the training field was a wide open area.
>While there were barely ponies around, and they were busy by themselves, it was still a public place.
>“I win.”
“As if!”, you groan out.
>You had let go of your spear and go to stand up.
>While he was big, he didn't have the body mass of a stallion.
>You would be a joke of a guard and a mare if you couldn't lift your... if you couldn't lift /a/ stallion.
>He notices your attempt and pulls on your left forehoof and yanks it back into an almost painful position.
>You simply don't have the leverage to move that hoof at all anymore, not with his own arm holding it.
>You run through the options in your head...
>Fall to your right!
>You extend your right hoof forward and swing your flank to the right.
>He only had to rest himself down on your behind to make that hard for you.
>As your legs were spread it's difficult to get that motion in anyway.
>You move further to try and pull yourself up, but, once again, your plan was foiled by him.
>He was now well and truly atop of you.
>His legs go outside yours and hook around them.
>And now he's trying to spread your legs further apart to make your attempt completely impossible.
>Stallion...
>On your back...
>Spreading your legs...
>Pressure in the nape of your neck...
>His pelvis rubbing against yours...
>And your face in the dirt.
>You close your eyes.
>You need to concentrate.
>But...
>Ahhh!
>Your heavy breathing was no longer from exertion.
>You're sweaty already, and you need to thank Celestia that humans have bad noses.
>He doesn't smell what you just let out.
>You need to get out of this and quick.
“Okay, I surrender.”
>He leans forward to whisper into your ear, “That's not what I want to hear you say, guardsmare.”
>You press your eyes together harder as could you simply escape the situation by looking away or willing it out of existence.
“Okay, okay, okay, okay. You proved your point. We'll change the grappling rules!”
>“That's my girl~”
>Hnngh.
>Hearing him with that voice, this close to you, and in this situation...
>Mare, what's wrong with you!
>Get yourself together!
>You are not supposed to get... by... by a colt domina-
>NO!
>He slowly retreats and lets you collect what little dignity you have left.
>You're breathing heavily, but can not hear any noise of exertion from behind you.
>As you stand up you remain facing away from him.
>Even if he can't smell your shame, he would be easily able to see all the blood that had gone to your face.
>Stupid white coat!
>Hard to maintain and hide your emotions.
>“Even a human untrained in combat can grab a hold of something, and we're pursuit predators. We have stamina for hours.”
>S-stamina for... for hours.
>Get your mind out of the gutter, he didn't mean it like that!
>Your cheeks are positively burning by now.
>No way you can turn around to face him.
“S-so you want to make humans have insane stamina too? We were lenient when we made house rules to even incorporate them as a species into the game.”
>Mostly because he's a... well, because he's a /he/.
>“Nooo-, I mean, sure, who wouldn't want an op species, but not at the cost of having fun with the game. You can only rank up social stigma so high to counteract a point value, but that's stupid. Oh well.”
>You hear him pick up his training spear and while he's at it also takes yours.
>“I believe you should take a shower.”
“YES.”
>“I'll put those...”
>You dash off.
>“...back.”