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Motherfucking Disclaimer - Don't you go reading this shit. This is the crap that makes you go blind or grow hair on your palms. Hell, it might make feathers spring up too, I dunno. Seriously, don't you have better things to do? This isn't going to help you get a job . . . Well it might, but only if you really want to go into the gryphoning business . . . And let me tell you, that's some weird-ass work. (This is a work of pornographic fiction. Please do not read if it would be illegal for you to do so.)

Gryphon Wanted: $48.62 / Hr.

Temp agencies are literally the worst. First I had to take some bogus fill-in-the-bubble test, and now here I am in some dingy cubicle, on a cracking vinyl chair from the seventies, looking at all of the shitty positions available to me.

[Waitress] - Never again.

[Sales] - Sure thing . . . but at a shop sixty minutes away?

[Dishwasher] - Pass.

[Vegetable Packing] - That's where all the convicts hang out.

[Gryphon] - . . .

[Housemaid] - For real? You should see my room before you offer me anything like that.

Wait . . . The fuck? Did that say gryphon? What is that even supposed to mean? Isn't that just some kind of flag-bird? I look through the generally useless information packet on the table, flipping through to the "G" section.

[Applicant Wanted for position of Noble Gryphon]

June 3rd - August 16th with possibility of retention based on employer satisfaction

A gryphon of fine stature and even temperament is needed for the ongoing social functions of the Wellgraves Estate. The required hours of service are from eight in the evening until one on the morning of the following day. Working days include all but Sunday. Room and board will be provided . . .

What kind of job goes from eight to one at night? That's only five hours a day . . .

The applicant must be willing to interact with the party-goers in a variety of ways, both in terms of anima and animus, although they shall have the final say in any particular matters of a lascivious nature . . .

Lascivious? Isn't that some kind of pastry? Whatever. I'm scanning through the bullshit, looking towards the end.

Payment starts at forty eight dollars and sixty two cents in United States dollars per hour of service, with all medical/veterinary expenses paid.

No previous experience necessary.

Wait a second. $48.62 and hour!? That's like $250 a night! I don't even need to read the rest. I only check one box on my application form with one of their scrawny golf-pencils before trotting back to the glass window at the front, slipping my form in the box and tapping at the counter, waiting for the stuffy old grandma up there to do her damn job.

Seriously. With that kind of cash, I could get a one-bedroom all for myself, and a big screen, and stop eating at In-And-Out all the goddamn time. Seriously though, it's some kind of party job? That's nothing. I can go hand out cream puffs with the best of 'em. That doesn't count as being a waitress, right?

"Cassandra. Cassandra Hooks?"

I'm so busy thinking about it that I almost miss it when they call my name.

"Is it still available, the job?" I slap my hands down on the counter.

"Yes, ma'am." Her glasses glint as she types on the computer while talking vaguely towards me. "Your job training will be in room B7. They're ready whenever you are."

"God bless you." I grab my purse and literally run down the hallway, sandals slapping against the linoleum floor as I look at the numbers on the doors. B1 . . . B2 . . . Even though "job training" is bullshit, and usually just watching some cheap-ass video, I head down that way at full speed, skidding a bit as I reach out and screech to a halt, hand wrapping around the handle as I open it and throw myself inside the room. Ain't no one gonna get this job but me.

"Oh my . . ."

"It seems that someone is quite eager."

"Are you all the trainers for the . . ." I'm panting as I look up. "What the hell?"

"Such language." The slate pantsuit-clad bluebird siting on the desk taps a rear talon against the filing cabinet below the table. Her hawkish black beak moves as she speaks with a measured New England accent, perpetually frowning eyes looking me over thoughtfully.

"That was so quick! We could hear you running down the hall." There was a lion casually leaning in the corner wearing charcoal slacks and a tight cream colored shirt that his mane spilled out of. His voice sounded urban, bordering on flamboyantly gay.

"Are you two supposed to be mascots or something? I thought this was some kind of party-service job . . ." I look at them carefully. It doesn't really look like they're wearing costumes or anything . . . But how the fuck do you even get born like that? Watching the bluejay clench and then relax her claws is kinda creepy . . .

"I assure you, Miss . . . Hooks, we are nothing if not professional." As she steps up onto her wide spread-clawed feet, her blue and gray streaked wings flap a few times behind her before folding neatly against her very business-y pantsuit.

"Speak for yourself." The lion chuckles, stepping over towards me and extending a paw. "I'm Oscar, and she's Denise." I reach out and shake his wide padded fingers trepidatiously. "I'm so_glad that you decided to take the job. You look _perfect for it!" His brown eyes beam as he looks obviously down towards my ass.

"Uhh . . . this is for the job that pays like 50 bucks an hour, right?" I hunt in my pockets, but realize I left the booklet back on the table. "Gryphon?" I begin to feel bad about not reading the rest of the job description.

"That is why we're here . . ." Denise crosses her arms, talons ticking against her scaly jet wrist. "You did read the description, right?"

"I cover the lion parts." Oscar explained unhelpfully, rolling his eyes at the bluejay's stern and put upon tone.

"Right . . ." I roll back on my heels. "So this is like, worker safety regulation stuff, right?"

"Naw. That's really easy, just don't maul anyone." Oscar laughed.

"Oscar, do try to be serious." Denise chides. " Your beak and talons will both be very sharp, and your larger stature will require caution, especially around particularly diminutive creatures. You will be insured for liability, but grossly dangerous misconduct may be grounds for termination . . ."

"Right . . . Yes, all that stuff too." Oscar rolls his head from side to side, cat-like ears twitching restlessly. "So, are you ready to get to the good stuff?"

Good stuff? I can definitely think about more than two figures in my bank account. "Yeah, sure." I shrug. Anything for $48.62 an hour.

"Alright! Let's get started . . ." He rubs his paws together, bouncing from foot to padded foot like some kind of high school gym teacher. He's not even wearing shoes . . . I'm not sure if he could wear shoes. His legs are shaped kind of weird . . .

"Not yet." The bluebird interrupts. "First, we must cover liability."

"Oh god . . ." Oscar shakes his head.

She returns to the table and pulls out a briefcase, clicking the latches and pulling out a thick collection of stapled pages dripping with fine print. She clears her throat, black curved beak clicking. "By signing this, you agree to the terms and conditions therein, allowing a full waive of your current physically bound rights even though your person-hood shall remain covered under article C of . . ." She just keeps droning and droning. God, it's like she doesn't even realize how boring all of that is. Like, why doesn't she just tell me all this stuff without speaking some kind of legal moon-language. Even the lion is yawning, whiskers stretching forwards as his pink tongue curls. God, what a set of chompers. Do lions just use a normal toothbrush? Maybe they have like a rounded one for their fangs or something . . . Wait a second . . . lions don't use toothbrushes . . . Do they?

Oh god . . . she's looking at me and tapping a dark hooked talon against her arm again. "Right." I hazard. "So I just have to sign this?"

"If you agree to all of the aforementioned terms, then yes, that is correct." She pulls one of the bundles of paper over the other and folds up the bottom. She then takes out a genuine Downton Abbey-looking inkwell, dips a fountain pen in it, and hands it over to me.

"Rad." I take the surprisingly heavy pen and pretend that I actually know how to write in cursive, making some hasty loops and crossing some of them that I probably shouldn't have. "So . . . when to I start?" I ask, slapping the business pen down with a clack that makes the flat-chested suit-clad jay wince. "Do you guys need my account number or anything? Because I don't think I know it off the top of my head . . ."

"Don't worry about that now. You can figure out all of that stuff when you meet Mr. W." The lion sounds impatient. "For now, let's just get down to the real business." He walks up behind me and I feel one of his heavy paw-hands rest against my ass.

"Hey!" I object more outta habit than anything else.

"Very nice . . ." He croons. "You've got the perfect ass to make a really _wonderful_gryphon." His wide brown-gold eyes are beaming.

"Uhh, hey, thanks?" I can feel my cheeks burning. It's not often I get a compliment like that.

The bluejay mutters something under her breath about being unprofessional before flicking her blue-gray wings out behind her and walking towards me as they re-fold against her back. "We're waiting, Miss Hooks." One of her long black toes taps against the carpet.

"Oh, right . . ." I squirm a bit as the lion grabs the other side of my ass as well. Perhaps a bit too much of a compliment . . . "Sorry. Waiting for what?"

"You don't want these clothes to go to waste, girl." Oscar leans in over my shoulder. I can feel his warm full mane against my skin.

"So . . ."

"Disrobing would aid the process immensely." Denise opens her beak and clicks her pointed tongue.

"Wait. I gotta take off my clothes? Is this some kind of background check or something? I ain't got anything in my pockets." I open my purse to show them the skinny wallet and half eaten pack of Rolos inside.

"Do you really think that your clothes are going to fit as a gryphon?" The bluejay squints at me, cocking her head to the side incredulously.

"No . . . of course not . . .?" I play it off all cool like. How was I suppose to know that I needed fancy clothes or something. I tug off my tube top to prove that I know what's up, and then step out of my flip-flops, unzipping my jeans and kicking them away as well. "Better?" I swallow heavily, feeling kind of weird standing around with a bird and a cat wearing just my bra and a tight black thong. Makes me feel un-businesslike, but they don't seem to mind.

"Oh, immensely." Oscar smiles. Even if he doesn't seem to get the idea of personal space, he also seems really cute. Denise just looks at my underwear and then looks up to the ceiling as if asking for guidance from whatever birdy god is up there. "Let's get started." I can feel his rumbling purr resonating through his leathery pads as he rests his wide animal hands on my hips.

I'm about to turn around and tell him to cool it a bit when the bird-lady walks right up to me, and reaches in with her black scaly hands, grabbing the sides of my head a little too tightly. "Alright. Now I must ask that you concentrate." Her wide dark eyes are inches from my own. I can see the details on the sleek downy little feathers growing in around her beak. "This is a delicate process, and I'd rather not have to do it more than once."

I want to ask what she's talking about, but something about how serious her pitch black eyes look makes me decide not to. She leans in until the warm smooth surface of her beak presses against my nose. Initially, I try to pull back automatically, but it's actually kind of comforting in a weird way. Her slick smooth plated wrists press against my ears as she entwines her talons behind my head and just kind of . . . stares at me. I can see where her beak meets her face, and the two little slits of her nostrils in the dark skin, but it's kind of hard to look at anything other than her creepy-dark eyes.

As that's going on, I can feel the lion's hands running over my ass like he's some kind of massage expert. I'd tell him off if it didn't feel so good. It's like my muscles are all getting all loose and then tightening up, and then getting all stretched out again. One paw reaches out and runs down my back, warm pads making me shiver as he repeats the motion, grinding down from my lower spine to just above my ass.

The bird's hands wrap around me as well, rubbing at the sides of my frizzy hair. She still doesn't say anything, but I can feel my own breaths start to match her own in the weirdest of ways. I'm licking the insides of my lips, but if feels kind of numb . . . like I just gout out from the dentist's. But my tongue still works fine . . . In fact, it's really hard not to be aware of it. I never realized quite how flexible it was . . . or how pointy. It's so relaxing, just looking at her big dark eyes. If I really stare I can kind of see my own reflection, but it's hard to focus on, like I can't even make out my own features. It's as if I'm just blending in with the blackness of her eyes . . .

Okay, now the rubbing from behind me is a bit much. I squirm from side to side as his suede paws begin to really knead in. It doesn't really hurt . . . well not like getting shot or anything. It's more like I just ran a fucking mile or something, but like in a way that doesn't suck. It actually makes me feel pretty tough, like I'd been working out for the previous few months instead of wandering around being funemployed. As he rubs in tighter, I can hear his chest rumbling and the occasional sound that I can only describe as a "yummy noise." It's like for all of the kinks he kneads out of my tight muscles, there's a fucking knot just getting tighter and tighter at the base of my back. Uuurrrrrg. I just want him to dig his fingers in right there and fucking tug . . .

It takes me awhile to realize that something's up. As her beak presses against me, there's this weird sound, like rubbing a spoon against a counter. It feels strange too . . . It's like something is running over my skin . . . but it's not my skin . . . it's all hard and black . . . and Jesus Christ, what the fuck is wrong with my mouth. At least, that's what I mean to say, but all that comes out is a strangled "Awwwwrawk?" It's like there's fucking Tupperware stuck to my face.

"I told you not to move . . ." Denise scowls as I pull back, reaching up to run a hand against the side of my weird hard face. My eyes widen and if I still had my goddamn lips, I'd be making a fucking horrified expression, but as it is, all I'm really doing is clacking my new beak open and shut. "Now come here." She reaches out towards me again with her weird bird-hands. I shy away. "You are not going to make forty eight dollars and sixty two cents with just a beak and some feathers . . ." I cock my head to the side . . . $48.62 an hour . . . Alright . . . This is weird, but hell, for a salary like that? I can figure something out.

My eyes fly wide open as there's suddenly a ratcheting creak from behind me, like someone is trying to pull out my goddamn spine. I let out a wild squawk and look over my shoulders. Denise clicks her beak and looks back at Oscar as well. "I thought that it would be a good idea just to get it over with . . . you know, like a Band Aid . . ." He shrugs, holding his tufted tail in his hand. It's wagging fitfully as my muscles seem to go wild . . . Wait a sec . . . That tail's really short . . . and his is batting around behind him. My hooked beak falls open as I see the length connecting back to me, just above my ass . . . where thick tawny fur is beginning to seep down around my rear.

How the fuck is this even possible . . . My ass does look kind of nice though . . . toned and round, straining against my thong like some kind of fuzzy supermodel. I shake my head, trying to wrap my mind around the situation as he gently but insistently pulls at my tail and it creaks out even longer. I can actually kind of understand how my new straining muscles are working now as I tug against his masseuse's grasp. He winks at me as one hand wraps his padded fingers around the thick base of my tail and squeezes, sending a thrill down my extending spine. "It's always best to start with the tail."

"Fine." The bluejay gives up with a huff, wings flickering out and refolding themselves behind her. "We'll move on for now since you obviously can't control yourself . . ." She grumbles as she reaches down and takes my hands in her own, long black talons dwarfing my own fingers. "I didn't realize that you were going to be such an exhibitionist." She shakes her head as if this were some normal kind of work-time annoyance, clicking her tongue as she looks at my bra, and the stretched black underwear around my waist that's starting to get a little uncomfortable.

I've got no fucking clue what's going on, but as she's grabbing my hands, the cat dude is behind me, and I can feel his paws swooping down against my legs, rubbing in against my bare skin. I blush, new tail twitching, as I kind of wish I had shaved them this morning. "There we go . . . Mmmm." He rumbles as his paws tingle down past my thighs. I shift my weight from foot to foot, feeling my muscles straining oddly as I try to look back over my shoulder, much to Denise's displeasure. I squawk loudly as I see a wave of thick tawny fur following his paws down my legs like he's putting the fake snow on a tawny Christmas tree. "Feels good right?" He grins with a wink. "Trust me, most people would kill for legs like these." He rubs his cheek against me as he reaches the bases of my calves and starts grabbing at my heels, causing a cawing wheeze of giggling laughter to escape my open beak.

Jeese, it doesn't even seem all that weird that I have a beak any more. Well, I mean, it's still fucking impossible, but it just seems like its always been there, you know?

"Some people just lack professionalism." the bluebird sighs. I hear a clicking between our hands as I swing my head back around. It's the strangest thing, I can see my fingers swelling, each like its own little limb, all black and scaly as her own fierce yet dextrous digits rub against them. "Please accept my colleague's apologies for any perceived lack of decorum." She shakes her head, dark eyes glinting as one of her hands moves in to rub between my eyes. I squint at first, feeling odd little cracking sensations that turn out to be little feathers growing in on my face. It's weird: kind of like hair, but I can feel each one moving as I twitch and sniff in through the slits of my dark heavy beak.

"Denise . . ." I hear Oscar say in a sing-songy warning tone as he kneels down and really starts to rub at my ankles.

She continues on regardless. "But in all seriousness, we are trained professionals, with all of the proper accreditation." My long clenching thumbs are wrenched down opposite of my fingers as the feathers begin spreading over my head and down my back. I can feel my hair blooming on my head like little fluffy fireworks, gray and blue with streaks of black mixing as they race down and start flowing over my back. "Or at least some of us are . . ." I feel this weird lurching click as she takes each of my arms and then gives it a sharp tug like she was trying to start a fucking lawnmower. It's not like it hurts, but it feels weird as she lets go, my wicked long fingers grasping in against my kinda tiny seeming palms. It's uncomfortable to even try and rest my arms at my sides, almost like its easier just to hold them out in front of me.

"Denise . . ." Oscar calls out again, claws dragging in between my toes as they begin to swell out. I wobble slightly on my feet.

"What!?" She snaps finally looking down towards the lion kneeling by my legs, coaxing my ankles up as I squawk.

"Timber!" He says cheerily as I feel my center of gravity begin to shift. It's like I just can't find my balance and I tense my shoulders awkwardly before I fall forwards, knocking over the jay, talon's fanning out and digging into the thin business carpet on either side of her. I mutter an apology that comes out like a crow-ish croak. Damn this is weird. But still . . . fifty bucks an hour? Gotta be worth it.

"Well I never!" She pulls herself out from underneath me and dusts off her form fitting pant-suit. "Oscar. That was completely uncalled for."

"Hey." Oscar grinned, giving my feet a little squeeze as they fully widened into broad lion-like paws. "I was trying to tell you . . ." He stands up slowly, running his paws up my thick animal legs and then giving my heavy rump a little slap. There's a sudden twang as my panties tear and then flutter to the ground like the world's most pathetic kite. I can feel the feathers on my face standing up, even as I look back and give him my best version of a stern bald-eagle scowl. "But someone was too busy going on one of her little professional etiquette_tirades. And anyways, _I'm almost done with my side, and _you_haven't even started on the wings yet."

"What do you mean I haven't . . ." She looks down at my shoulders. "Oh my god. I haven't even started on the wings yet." She puts a hand over her open hooked beak. "This could be considered grounds for a misconduct citation." She's talking to herself as she steps forward and grips tightly on either side of my head, wings flicking behind her in obvious agitation. "Please don't tell our supervisor . . ."

I let out a noncommittal kweh. I'm keeping my options open.

"It's not like corporate really cares if you follow the order protocol." Oscar shrugs, tugging my tail teasingly as my ass clenches below it. "You wrote half of the bloody thing. And anyways, this is really more of an art form." He kneads the heels of his palms into my back, stretching out my thickening skin as he coaxes the golden fur up from my hips.

Denise swallows as she composes herself. "Well, adjustments could certainly be made . . . to the process. I would definitely never leave you wingless." Her talons run back through the forming plumage on my shoulders. "There are always contingencies for the event of the process becoming slightly cluttered." She straightens herself. "Certainly_this_ will have to be removed to continue." Her talons clack around the clasp for my bra before it zings off across the room like a breast-cupping bat outta hell.

I'm having a little bit of trouble focusing on her words as Oscar snorts at her disappearing bra trick, kneading at the skin on my back through my growing fur, tugging it looser as I can feel it twitching back against him. I didn't know that growing lion fur could feel so damn good: everything prickly and warm, stretching out over me as his paws continue to knead . . . She clears her throat, leaning in and whispering in my now feathery ear conspiratorially. "Everything will be fine. Just don't encourage him."

That's going to be a little hard, as this feels fucking great.

The room is seeming a little bit smaller as they continue to work on me, my muscles are tensing and bulging, talons straining against the bluish carpet. In fact, as Denise begins to really work between my shoulders, I realize that, even though I'm down on all fours, my head is already at her very flat chest level. She's wearing some kind of body powder on her feathers that smells like the stuff my grandma used to sprinkle in her shoes. Like, not in a bad way . . . It's just kinda weird. I wonder if I'm going to have to change hair product now. Hell, I wonder if I'm even going to fit in the goddamn shower . . .

It's impossible to keep thinking all deep like as her dark thick claws grasp around something just behind my shoulders, before she jerks back with a wrenching heave and my feathers all prickle up, bones and sinews a crackling as she yanks out two fucking alien growths from my back. Each one is tugging and pulling, even though I don't really mean to. As the things on my back jerk around, my chest muscles bulge. Raising a feathery brow, I look under myself and see my breasts flattening out against my widening chest, losing their bounce and my bust, even as my new muscles tense and swell while a new wave of blue feathers prickle in with a blaze of gray in the middle. I look up and caw at her accusingly.

"There there. Just relax . . ." She coos. "There's other ways to be feminine. We'll get to them after you . . ." She grunts as she tugs again "Earn your wings." A shiver runs down my spine as I can now feel foot-long ashy feathers bursting out of my new . . . arm things, spreading out and pulling together as I tense. Man, that's a raw deal. The ladies and I were a perfect team, but I suppose that I didn't ever really see a bird rocking a halter top before . . . or really wearing anything. Either way, looking over at Denise, she seemed to make it work. I just thought she was kinda flat-chested, but I guess there's just not a whole lotta difference between dudes and the ladies when it comes to jays.

Now Oscar's paws are running all the way up my back, and I can feel the weird texture change as he brushes from fur, to feathers. It makes my tail twitch, and streaks of gray and blue begin to seep down into the fur on my haunches. "Looking good, girl . . ." He rakes his claws down my back. "Now we can get to the fun stuff." His broad fingers squeeze at the top of my tail all teasing-like. "Now, when people think of a_noble_ gryphon, they think of a regal, stately, and _well-hung_figure." His paw slides down past my ass, two leathery pads pressing in and slipping over the edges of my now completely bared pulsing pussy.

I whip my head around and squawk back at him, tensing up as I feel the weird weight that is my cobalt and slate wings fan out, almost knocking Denise off her legs again as she latches on to one wing to steady herself awkwardly. "Oscar! Could you please control yourself. I am doing very sensitive work here!" Her own wings fan out and flap as she catches her balance.

"Hey, this work is sensitive too . . ." He covers my crotch with his hand and squeezes. "Realllllly sensitive." One finger presses against my clit and wriggles, sending a thrill through my spine, feathers all floofing up as my growing wings fan out fully. Goddamn that feels good . . . A squeaking churr escapes my beak as he continues to massage my snatch. He's some kind of fucking pussy whisperer. I've never felt anything near this good. My leg's claws extend as I feel my flesh jostle in his palm, warm and loose as my clit feels like its getting tighter and tighter, pulsing against his now-slick thumb. It's like all of the pleasure is being sucked into my fun-nub as each side of my labia begins to feel looser, churning as a fuzzy dusting of velvet covers the growing bulges.

"How undignified." She shakes her head as she tugs on each of my wings in turn, combing the stiff blue and gray feathers into order, with a few bands of solid black near the tips. It's the strangest feeling as she lets go. I tense up as I feel Oscar pinch my clit behind me, and both of my wings swish downwards instinctively. The air in the room wooshes, and I can feel my weight shift with the force of the flap. "Not in here, my dear." She chides. "There's hardly enough room for stretching your wings properly. You can work out all the kinks on the way to the Wellgraves estate. It's very easy to find from the air, I assure you."

I turn my head and croak questioningly, also panting as I can feel Oscar wrapping multiple padded fingers around my clit.

"Of course!" She replies easily. "You didn't think these wings were just for show, did you?" It's the weirdest thing as she helps me fold them up against my back. It's kind of like keeping your arms in your pockets . . . Oddly comfortable to feel the warm feathers against my back and sides. Man, I'm gonna be able to save a fortune on bus fare . . .

Not having to ride the metro isn't really the first thing on my mind though, hot pleasure welling out from my crotch as Oscar leans in against me, one hand cupped around my oddly loose flesh as the other strokes along my taut clit. I lick my increasingly triangular tongue over the odd smooth edge of my beak and hang my head down between my forelegs. It takes a second before my eyes come into focus through the haze of pleasure, but I immediately let loose a garbled rarwk. "Oh yes . . . Kitty's nice and big . . ." Oscar purrs.

I have a cock. Not just that, a fucking throbbing monster of one, poking out from above two heavy balls hanging down like tight furry kiwis. This is the weirdest thing . . . but I'll be goddamned if it doesn't feel good, making my entire body quiver, fur and feathers standing up. "And so very_sensitive_ . . ." The shaft looks like something from some kind of adult store, a kind of slick ridged length that ends in a slim chiseled head. I can feel it jerk against his hand, glistening pre coating his fingertips as he gently massages my hefty balls.

Denise clicks her beak as she gives my wings a final inspection, talons running along their quivering folded contours as I coo out in bliss. "You enjoy this entirely too much." She walks back next to him as he slowly lets go of my throbbing cock. Now I know how guys feel when they mention blue balls . . .

"Though I must admit, she is becoming quite a fetching specimen." I wark back at them sharply. I'm standing right here you know? "There's certainly nothing to be bashful about." She runs her dark talons through my fur. "Even if you're certainly not finished . . ." Her hands run down either side of my rump as her dark eyes glint with determined purpose.

I look back and turn my head to the side . . . I don't really have anything left that's, well, _me_at this point. "You've certainly got the animus side of the position fulfilled." She eyes my heavy tawny furred nuts.

"I'll say." Oscar winks at me as he walks towards my front.

"But I'm afraid the qualities of anima are somewhat lacking. Not to worry though. There's so much more to the process than being so . . ." My cock throbs, a dribble of clear pre dripping to the thinly carpeted floor. "Ostentatious." She runs a talons slowly under the fluffy base of my tail. I dunno exactly what she means by the word, but my entire body stiffens as I feel her prod down against the tight skin of my asshole.

I'm about to scowl back at her, and maybe put the talons that she gave me to use, but Oscar takes my fluffy cheeks in his hands and rubs against them. "Don't worry. Even if she's a bit unprofessional, she actually knows what she's doing." I look into his gold eyes with their dark pupils as he leans forward and licks his tongue against the front of my beak. It's warm and kind of gravelly, but not rough . . . Like I can feel the contact but . . . "Don't think that we're finished up on your front side yet either." He grins, revealing his sizable fangs. For some reason, it's impossible to be threatened by them . . . Although, I guess that I'm bigger than him at this point. I mean, I don't think anyone is gonna bother me in any back streets anymore . . .

The bluebird scowls towards the lewd lion's use of 'unprofessional' before she clears her throat. "Now then, flying is more than simply having wings . . ." She's pinching the thick base of my tail between her claws and rubbing it back and forth. I wriggle my butt as I feel thick prickly points welling out from next to my manhandled tail. "Stability is quite important as well. You will find that a simple lion's tail is quite inadequate . . ." She eyeballs Oscar as if daring him to make a comment.

He simply shrugs as he squeezes the sides of my face gently. I can smell my own ripe musk on his paws, my cock still pulsing beneath me as they both run their hands over my body. As she pauses though, I can feel the feathers fanning out, azure on the outside fading to a light gray in the middle. "But, you will find that flight comes quite naturally, when you are properly equipped . . ." My skin tightens and contracts, feeling the stiff feathers at the base of my tail fan out behind me as she runs an arm down to the tufted tip of my tail. She rubs that as well, grinding at the tip as it fans out into a smaller burst of feathers. I can feel them all tugging against the air as I wriggle.

Man, flying . . . I don't even care if this is weird as fuck. That sounds awesome. I unfurl my wings slightly before letting them tuck back in against my back. It feels oddly satisfying . . . So that's why she's always doing that . . .

"There might be a great number of things that birds are well known for . . ." Oscar's paws draw up from my shoulders. "But hearing isn't one of them." His claws comb through the feathers on the sides of my face until he reaches . . . Whatever I have at the moment. Don't I have any ears? Man, I didn't even miss them. As he rubs in firmer and firmer, my flesh begins to twitch, and I can feel him coaxing my skin up into thin fluffy points, tawny fur poking out of the grayish down. It's weird, I can hear his voice changing as my pointy ears swivel around like little satellite dishes. "Anyways, now when you're busy flying around, at least you can listen for incoming Boeings."

"It would be impossible to reach a height where . . ." Denise begins to interject.

Oscar interrupts her, leaning in right next to one of my widening cat-like ears. "Maybe you'll also be able to listen for a joke."

"What was that?" Denise raises a feathery brow.

I let out a wheezing chuckle. You know what? These people are all right . . . Wait. People? Animals? . . . Whatever you call em. Wait, does that make me some kind of racist?

"I thought so . . ." She takes his silence as an answer, finishing up with my tail as all of my feathers fold towards the middle. "Now then, about the anima part . . . Female birds are much more efficient and refined than . . ."

Oscar stifles a giggle.

"What _some peopl_e might be used to." She slides down again towards the base of my tail. "But I assure you, a cloaca is quite sensitive, in addition to being versatile." Her talon is running around the edges of my asshole, and I can feel my skin tugging against her, blood rushing to it as the edges plump up and my feathers all stand on end. I don't know what the fuck a cloaca is, but I never thought that my ass could feel so good.

"You'll find yourself quite pliant as well. Not that I would dare to assume your tastes in partners, but if you prefer those more well-endowed than your average feline . . ." The edges of my anus feel slick and hot, and my jaws creak open before she slides a talon inside of me and my beak clacks shut. "You won't have any troubles." She pulses her finger inside of me and little fireworks go off in my vision. It's kind of like my pussy . . . but different. Everything is super intense as I feel my changing insides clench around her, my thick cock also jerking up against my fuzzy belly as my balls tense in against me.

"Size isn't everything . . . There's other reasons to hang out with lions as well." Oscar smiles in front of me as I lean in against his chest, rocking back against Denise's probing digits as she slips another talon into me and wriggles both of them against my changing asshole . . . pussy . . . thing. "I mean, the mane's are always a plus." There's a building tingling as he drags his claws through the feathers on my thickening neck. "Not only does it help you cut a regal figure . . ." The tickle increases as I feel thick auburn hair beginning to well out between my feathers, streaked with slate gray. "But it's also nice to snuggle against." As he leans in, his own mane brushes against my face, soft and warm. The building fluff on my neck continues to grow, shaggy and voluminous. This guy's got a real talent . . . the product I used to use didn't get my hair half this soft. I wonder if I'll need to find a new person to do my feathers . . .

My rear orifice is straining around Denise as her smooth scaly fingers squeeze and pull in all directions against my insides. It makes me croak out into Oscar's mane as my pink fleshy edges pulse and glisten. It's like she knows just how much I can take, stretching out just to the point where it's painful before letting me clench back against her. "And if you are ever having trouble finding a suitable suitor, they do make . . . devices, specifically for avians of your size. Though I can hardly imagine that you won't find pleasant company at your employment. Wellgraves has such an interesting circle of friends." How can she be so fucking casual. She's talking like it isn't weird at all to have your fingertips up someones ass as you discuss the news. Don't get me wrong, it feels amazing. Then again, maybe it's just a bird thing? I've never really been close to a bird before . . . except my Grammy's parakeet. It was okay a I guess . . . But this? Shudders run through me as her other talons begin to rub at the stretched darkening outer ring of my straining hole.

"Now you're really starting to get into the role. Look at you, all bushy and majestic as all get out." Oscar spruces up my fluffy mane, stroking the soft fibers. I open my beak and let out a croaking groan, leaning into him as my rear continues to be exercised like I was some kind of broken sink disposal, my cock still bobbing up against my fuzzy belly and leaking all over the floor. "Ohh, you poor thing . . ." He runs a paw under my beak. "She's got you all worked up, doesn't she?" He looks under me and licks his lips. "What do you say . . . Would you like me to help you deal with that?" His golden eyes hold nothing but oddly goofy tenderness, just like he always seems to have. I nod slowly with a crawrk, rocking slightly as Denise rubs a knuckle against the outside of my black stretched bird-ass. I never really thought I'd be thinking this, but I really want this lion to get me off . . . Then again, I never really had a cock before, so . . . maybe this is just a guy-thing?

He gives me a wink, tugging at my mane before ducking underneath me. Denise is still talking, calm voice droning as my straining bird-hole quivers and twitches. I make out a few words . . . "pliant" . . . "proper" . . . and something about "morpholog . . . something," but honestly, I'm too busy just straining against her. I just want to cum, but in like a zillion ways at once, my stomach tying itself into a knot as I gasp and wheeze. I feel Oscar's body slide in under me, brushing against the feathers between my front legs before his ears brush against my belly. I crow as I feel his breath sniffing against my cock, whiskers prickling over my throbbing shaft, making little explosions light up in my mind.

The tone of Denise's voice shifts. "Oscar. What do you think you're doing?" I feel her wide digits tense inside of me.

"Just helping out. You're torturing the poor girl." He reaches up and strokes my balls as they tense and quiver. My wings unfold slightly as I feel a thrill lance through my body.

"I am doing no such thing." She insists indignantly. "I'm merely demonstrating the various pleasures of possessing an avian femininity." Her fingers grind against me as she continues calmly. "And making sure that everything is in order."

I let out a croaking groan. Please just stop talking. I'm so fucking close . . .

"Well, I guess I'm just checking on the plumbing then." I can hear the smirk in his voice. He reaches up and presses a wide padded finger right at the base of my heavy cock, causing me to tense up and my shaft to jerk against my belly. "Such a sensitive kitty . . ."

"How crude." She huffs, one talon stroking around the taut dark edges of my ass. My tail flickers up and bats against her as a wrenching surge of pleasure makes my nerves light up like a crack head in a drug house.

"Crude? Look at you, miss high-and-mighty. You're basically using her as your own personal sock puppet." He wraps his fingers around my heavy tightening balls.

They continue to bicker until the sensations just get to be too much. I flap my wings and let out a shriek that sounds godawful even to my fluffy changed ears. My ass wrenches around her as my balls pulse in his palm.

Translation - Please just get to the fucking business.

"Don't think you've won this argument. I'm just taking a brake because my mouth is going to be occupied for a second here." Oscar gets in a last word before kissing the tip of my shaft cutely. He then opens up that massive lion's mouth of his and takes my entire cock into his humid fleshy mouth. I can feel every slick clenching inch against my taut fleshy ridges.

Denise isn't being outdone though. As one hand kneads inside of me, the other pokes and prods at my stretched hole. My glistening slickness coats her hands as I wrench and writhe, brought to the brink as she methodically stretches me to my limit.

They both double down with their efforts, and my brain can barely keep up with the pleasure. I can feel the rough texture of Oscar's tongue slurping at my cock as Denise somehow manages to slide in one last slippery digit that stretches me out fully. My fur and feathers are bristling as I huff in my own dank musky scent which is clouding up the small room. My beak is gaping open and clacking shut, my claws and talons all digging into the carpet as I feel that tight heat just boiling up inside of me. My pointed cock-head squelches against the back of Oscar's throat as his tongue plays over the fleshy ridges of my pulsing shaft while Denise grinds against something tight and hot deep inside of me while toying with the stretched ring of my ass.

It's just too much. My wings unfurl and my tail goes out all straight. My mane and feathers all fluff and fan out as my orgasm hits me like a fucking semi. My bird-hole clamps down in miniature spasms and squirts out little hot drops of slick pleasure as my balls tense, and I feel myself unloading hot pulsing streams into the lion's balmy mouth. They both don't fucking stop, rubbing and licking eagerly as my entire body clenches and writhes. Oscar slides forward until his nose huffs against the loose furry base of my sheath, sucking down my gryphon spunk like a pro. Denise coaxes out my other climax so that I'm still pulling and leaking around her fingers even as Oscar is licking up the thick white strings of cum from my spent shaft.

I'm panting, beak wide open, slowly folding my wings as she slides out of me, and Oscar slips out from under me. "There we go. I'd say everything is in order." The lion rustles the feathers between my ears. "Tastes like you've got the hang of it."

Denise simply sighs, walking over the desk and taking out her briefcase, removing a white hanky and methodically wiping off her talons. "Now then." She clears her throats, taking out a new set of papers. "If you can just sign here, saying that you have received the mandatory job training." She sets the papers down near my front talons before unscrewing the lid of the ink and leaving it next to the papers. She helps me slip a black curved claw into the darkness, and I can feel myself clink against the glass before I pull it back and drag it loopily over the dotted line on the page. It's about as legible as it was last time. "Alright, miss Hooks. You are now completely ready for your position as a noble gryphon."

"I'll say." Oscar chips in. "Go out there and knock 'em dead. Just not literally. Again, Mauling people is a good way to lose your position." He pats my fuzzy ass as Denise opens the door into the hallway.

I can feel the eyes of the other people in the temp agency looking at me as my talons click against the linoleum floor. These suckers are just jealous that I snatched up the only job in this place that pays $48.62 an hour. My tail sways behind me as I make my way to the front door, which Oscar holds open as I walk into the brightness, feathers on my tail blowing in the breeze as I smell the asphalt of the parking lot.

"Now, the Wellgraves estate is just up Eleventh avenue. Only about ten minutes on the wing. You'll see the gates from above." Denise points out in the general direction "It's been a pleasure working with you."

"Oh absolutely." Oscar grins. "You make an absolutely lovely gryphon. We expect great things from you!"

I squawk out a thank you, bobbing my head as I watch them both pile into the same little yellow VW bug. I turn my head to the side as I hear the parking break creak and watch them drive away.

What the fuck? Are they some kind of couple? There are just some weird fucking people in this world.

I brace myself and spread my wings, a few heavy flaps drawing me up above the city before I begin to glide down 11th street, thinking of all the impossible things that happened to me today . . . like finding a job that pays $48.62 an hour.