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The library at the Doreskain College of the Mystic Arts had a simple rule: if you can read it, then you may read it.

Despite the incredible power of the tomes contained within, the library was never locked and had no guards. Instead, each volume was protected in a different manner. Introductory texts were encoded, requiring knowledge of basic ciphers, obscure languages, alchemical symbols, or -- on one memorable occasion -- rhyming slang. Intermediate texts tested the reader's basic magical skill with glyph locks or forgetfulness curses. Advanced texts were unique: each one was protected by a different spell particular to the contents of the book. The only students who could read Torvold's Guide to Advanced Transformation were those who could revert themselves to their normal form without moving, as the book turned any who opened it into a statue.

Students were encouraged to test their skills in the library. None of the protections were dangerous, and librarians and other instructors would wander the shelves every day, to help any wayward students caught by the books' enchantments.

That was why Marta was wandering through the library late one night. The fennec was only a third-year student, but was already studying at a sixth-year level, having dug into several of the most advanced monographs in the library. But tonight she had a special target in mind, a secret target, and so she was slunk quietly through the night while no one else was around.

Although it was dark, Marta did not carry a lantern. Instead she had a ghostlight dancing on the tips of her upraised fingers, which provided light for her and only for her. To anyone else, she was just one more shadow flitting past in the darkness. The fennec still felt exposed. She wore a student's robe of plain, simple black, and nothing else. Underneath it, the thin fabric caressed over bare hips and naked breasts and nipples already stiff from the erotic possibilities from tonight's excursion.

But first she had to find the book again. The library was arranged like a maze: yet one more layer of protection for the most powerful magic. Marta had stumbled into the sensual magic section by accident the first time and had to carefully retrace her steps every time. Down the main pathway until she reached Modern Runic Theory. Up a wrought iron spiral staircase. East following the railing until she came to a bridge over the floor below. On the other side, she took a sharp left turn and inched down a narrow gap between the shelf of magical meta-theories and the shelf of meta-magic until she came to a trapdoor hidden in the floor. That opened to reveal a ladder reaching down into a small room. It was here that Marta's treasure lay.

After descending the ladder and closing the trapdoor again, she flicked a finger and the ghostlight sprang out onto a nearby candle, where it remained without burning the wick. A weave of the fennec's tail and the ghostlight grew until she could see the whole room, which contained only four small bookcases, each of which contained only a dozen books, angled so their covers and titles, if they had any, were clearly visible. Elegant Love-Spells for Elegant Love-Makers stood on one shelf; The Sensual Mage on another; A Spark of Orgasm, and How It Can Power Your Magic on a third, but Marta's attention was drawn to an unlabeled tome whose cover bore no name and only showed a piece of rope looped in a triangular knot.

She'd heard of this book long before she'd ever seen it. Certain volumes in the library had attained mythical status among the students and rumors surrounding them constantly swirled. Sometimes students would make a game of it and compete to be the first to find the book and pierce its protections, but most of the time the contents of the book and the nature of the protections were known. Little was spoken about the nature of the book before Marta now. That only happened when older students wanted to goad younger students into being ensnared by devious traps: poor little Mixi had been the first of their year to crack open Helpful Hexes for Hedgewitches and had spent an entire day with her fur dyed neon green and smelling of rotten limes as a consequence.

But Marta had prepared herself carefully. She would not be trapped. She had studied all the other books in the room and knew their protections by heart. There, in the ghostlight, she wove concentric circles of warding. In luminous strokes, the fennec inscribed sigils to defend against charming effects and other alterations of her mood, then in another ring were glyphs against sensations: she was not going to open a book and get hit by an arousal so strong she couldn't concentrate on anything but getting off. Finally, the largest circle contained anti-immobilization spells. Marta was quite sure the book contained spells for bondage, and she did not want to open it only to have her body sapped of energy and unable to move.

The fennec double- and triple-checked her work. As Magister Torias, her favorite instructor, had told her many times, you never got a spell right the first time. Sure enough she found something to improve almost everywhere.

Now she was ready.

Marta smiled to herself and held her hands palm up in front of her, still and steady, while her tail began to sway and swirl in the intricate weave of a levitation spell. The fennec was deservedly proud of her ability to use her tail to work magic and she relished any extra opportunity to do so.

The book shuddered on the shelf as the spell wrapped around it, then it lifted, fluttered in the air and came forward to rest just in front of Marta's outstretched hands. She took a moment to view the book up close. The cover was stiff leather with decorative brass corners. The spine was ribbed and Marta suspected it had an additional piece inside it for rigidity. The cover had no title or name that she could see, only a circular bronze plate in the middle with the triangular knot depicted on it, and beneath that, a symbol she could not read. A name, perhaps? There were no additional clues to the contents of the book nor to the protections on it.

So the fennec shrugged and flipped open the cover.

The first sign that something was amiss was the paper. The library took pride in the quality of its books and used the finest paper available. Even in the volumes that were a hundred years old, the paper looked hardly a week off the printers. But here, it was already a light brown, coarse and stiff with fibrous veins that interrupted the smooth surface. The edges looked like they were fraying apart.

Just like the ends of a rope.

In the blink of an eye, the protective spell activated and the pages split into their individual strands and rewound themselves into cords that lashed out at her.

Marta had not anticipated a direct physical attack: she'd never even heard of a book itself fighting back. In the instant where she was panicking over the unexpected spell, the book's rope had already wound tight around her wrists and held them so firmly there was no way she could use her hands to work magic.

The fennec flicked her tail rapidly, using the levitation spell she was already casting to push the book as far away as she could while she thought of a way to escape. But the book already had a firm grasp on her wrists and was pulling itself closer even as more pages reformed into ropes and shot out. Marta wriggled her hips to accentuate her tail's motions and she successfully repelled the initial onslaught. But the book just changed its tactics. Ropes inched along over the one connection already made, crawling over one another up to her wrist and disappearing under the cuff of her robe. She could feel them slithering over her thin fur like snakes.

Marta's frantic attempts to think of a spell to get her out of this mess were interrupted by another transformation occurring in the book. The pages were all gone now and the inside of the spine was visible. As she had guessed earlier, it held a support, a piece of polished wood with ribs to give extra decoration to the exterior of the book. A piece of rope wrapped around it and pulled it away from the cover. The wood reformed itself as the pages had done and warped from a textured rectangle to a more phallic shape.

As soon as the wooden dildo began to lift towards her head, Marta's jaws snapped shut and she instantly put away any thought of a vocal spell. The dildo hovered in the air before her, the tip an inch from her lips.

The fennec struggled as the ropes continued to snake their way under her robe. They had already made it past her arms and were starting to work down her torso. She silently cursed herself for having gone naked under the robe. Coarse rope ground against her breasts with a grip like a rough and over-excited lover, before continuing down her torso. She bit her lip, half hoping and half fearing the rope would caress her sex the same way. But it had other ideas in mind, moving to her back and slipping down her spine until it reached the base of her tail. She almost opened her mouth to try and shout an incantation and push the ropes away, but the dildo loomed large before her. She kept her lips tight and fidgeted, trying to keep her tail out of the way. But it was a battle she was fated to lose: as soon as they had started to slow the movement of her tail, the levitation spell faltered and died, and she was completely at the book's mercy.

The ropes swiftly moved to immobilize her and strip her simultaneously. In a moment of surprising consideration, the book's spell reformed her robe into a simple sheet of fabric, so that it could be removed without tearing it. Ropes gently pulled it off and folded the sheet neatly before setting it on the floor. More ropes than ever before seemed to be around her body now, pulling her knees together, pinning her tail to her back, starting to weave in intricate patterns over her torso.

The dildo continued to hover close to her lips. The vixen almost opened her mouth in surprise as she felt the rope snake between her thighs and drag along her exposed sex, but she bit back the impulse to cry out. The dildo pushed closer, touching her lips. A wrap of rope around the base of her muzzle kept her from moving her mouth out of the way, but it couldn't get her to open up. At least that seemed to be slowing its progress down. Maybe she could whisper out a spell without opening her jaw fully?

The fennec's eyes went wide as she saw the book transmute yet more of itself. The brass corners on the cover pulled themselves off, twisted and combined until they formed a pair of sturdy nipple clamps. Marta tried to back away or use her remaining bit of free movement to protect herself, but the ropes had already accomplished too much. The ones around her torso tightened to force her back to arch and her breasts to be thrust out for the newly formed clamps.

Marta took short, controlled breaths and told herself not to open her mouth, not to open her mouth. She very nearly failed when she felt the cool metal pinch her nipples and hold them tight. She squirmed in her bonds, which only made the situation worse as the clamps swung and her sex ground along the rope. Why, oh why, was she so turned on right now? But at least the dildo was denied. She kept her mouth firmly shut.

That was, until the clamps twisted. The vixen gasped at the sudden pain and the dildo slid into her barely parted lips in an instant, filling her muzzle fully.

With the dildo properly inserted, the ropes dragged Marta into position. She was made to kneel down on the fabric that had once been her robe, but she was also made to bend forward, so her exposed and naked rump was held up in the air, visible to any who came down the ladder.

Despite how tightly she was held, Marta was relieved to find that the ropes seemed to take her comfort into consideration. They were never so tight they pinch (except for the clamps on her nipples of course), they supported her weight so she didn't bruise herself, and even the dildo refrained from forcing itself fully inside, where she surely would have gagged on it. Even the bundle of rope that had slipped between her thighs and was grinding against the exposed skin of her folds had changed itself for her: losing the coarseness of the rope and becoming as soft as silk, with an added knot formed right at her clit for her to rub against, which she was doing instinctually at this point.

Marta thought the book was finished, but two of the largest pieces of cord held themselves before her. As she watched, the tips unraveled down about a foot. The hundreds of individual threads flailed about in the air for a moment before regrouping into much smaller bundles. Marta did not understand what this was until the ropes swished through the air and the newly formed tassels flicked sharply: floggers, the rope had turned itself into a pair of floggers.

The vixen eeped and wriggled as the newly created toys started to perform their work along her back. The strikes were soft at first, staying around her shoulders, but grew rapidly more insistent, moving in steady lines up and down her back. They were careful to avoid her tail, but they also avoided her butt for some reason.

An unexpected strike from the flogger hit her on one breast. She tried to jump away, more from surprise than pain, but the ropes held her still, and her motions only served to tug her nipples harder and make the rope grind ever more tightly against her now sopping wet sex. She groaned. And was it just her imagination or had the dildo slipped slightly deeper into her muzzle?

The fennec was panting, her mind hazy from growing lust, and she saw the cover of the book, the only part of it left, hovering in the air before her. She thought it was watching her, overseeing the operation of the ropes and floggers and clamps and dildo.

Then the cover began to change too.

Marta noticed it first in the way the bronze plate on the front began to distort. It went from a circle to an oblong and then pinched itself off to form three smaller pieces, each of which reformed into a miniature version of the original triangular knot design. The leather of the cover folded itself inward into a long narrow rectangle, and then folded itself outwards once to form a handle. It was a paddle, Marta realized, with three hefty metal studs.

She squirmed, trying to get away, but the book's spell was insistent. The cover-now-paddle floated over her back and took its place just beneath her tail. It held itself against her fur, unmoving as the floggers sped up on her shoulders. Just when she thought she couldn't bear waiting any more, it lifted and fell with a sharp crack.

Marta jerked in her bonds, making the clamps bounce. She had hardly settled from the first blow when a second came snapping down, and then a third and fourth, and after that Marta rapidly lost count as she lost focus on anything that wasn't the intensely growing heat from her ass. She barely noticed (and cared even less) that the floggers were going faster, or that the nipple clamps were tugging each breast alternately, or that the dildo was thrusting itself in and out of her mouth. Each swat made her moan once from the pain and then again from the growing pit of unsated need between her thighs. Why, oh why, couldn't the dildo have plunged into her sex instead of her mouth? She felt empty, and that emptiness was only reinforced by how well attended every other part of her body was. Her mouth was full, her breasts were cradled and clamped, her back was being flogged, and her ass was being repeatedly paddled. The only thing her sex had was that tiny knot for her clit to grind against and she grinded against it for all her muscles were worth.

Minutes stretched on and turned to hours and yet Marta never seemed to grow tired, nor was she granted relief. By the time the ambient light in the room grew to suggest that dawn had broken, she was a molten mess, thinking only of how desperate she was for a good fuck.

Over the unceasing snap of the floggers and crack of the paddle, she heard footsteps. They were the unhurried footsteps of an instructor checking for any students who had gotten trapped overnight. Her ears turned to follow the sound as it crept by, stopped just overhead, and then was replaced by the creak of the trapdoor opening. Marta was turned away so she couldn't see who it was, but she wriggled her naked rear at them, hoping they would take the invitation.

The floggers and paddle came down one last time before stilling, but Marta did not stop moaning in desperate need, putting herself on display.

A strong hand cupped one cheek of her ass. Sharp claws prickled through her fur. Marta felt the soreness of the hours of pain-dulled paddling, but also felt the intense heat radiating out from the touch that made her crave more. The hand squeezed and played with her flesh and she was all too happy to submit to the intimate touch, especially as it started to shift closer to her sex. The rope was pulled away from her dripping entrance and a single finger was inserted, plunging deep without any resistance.

Marta bucked and writhed, trying to make the finger thrust or curl or do something at all. After so many hours of being desperate for something to enter her, this one small unmoving finger was not enough.

But the finger withdrew and the figure walked into view, paddle in one hand and floggers held between his arm and side. It was Magister Torias. The handsome wolf knelt down and used the tip of the paddle to lift her chin. She met his gaze, although hers was still clouded by raw lust. He set the paddle down and ran a hand along her muzzle before taking the base of the dildo and carefully extracting it.

Marta's muzzle felt strangely empty without the toy occupying it. She ran her tongue along her teeth and lips for the first time since she had been bound and found herself wishing she had something else in her muzzle again. Her eyes settled on Torias: not his face, but at what was hidden under his robes at the waist.

Moments later, Marta was taking the entirety of Torias's shaft into her mouth, sucking it to the base and deep-throating it with ease after the long hours of training the dildo had given her. She shivered in contentment as he thrust into her face and her only thought was the hope that he would be ready for a second round soon after.