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It was raining when the carriage rolled up to the dark, gloomy manor on the cobbled streets. Oil lanterns hung from wrought iron lamp-posts at irregular intervals, casting just enough light through the cascading waters for me to see the empty streets beyond the curtains of the carriage. Though drawn, the small awnings over the windows kept the rain out and left me dry enough.

I didn't know where I was, nor the identity of my captor. The only name I had heard mentioned was Lord Shurush, whom I presumed was he. The title of Lord seemed grand enough that I didn't dare to run away, for the whole of the sprawling, old city might well be under his care. As the wheels clacked and rattled over the oft crooked cobblestones, I found myself taken by a wave of apprehension.

Beside me sat a gargoyle of sorts, his face stony and impassive. He wore simple garb, and while he was unarmed, the ebon claws that jutted forth from the tips of his fingers gave me pause enough not to try anything foolhardy. A lady - I daren't call her a maiden, though such a statement would never leave my beak - sat across from me, a small umbrella resting across her lap. What she was, I was unable to discern - some race I had never met before in my limited travels. Her face was thin and glossy like an amphibian's hide, and her eyes were small and piercing. Most of her slender body was kept beneath an azure dress I had no intention of peering beneath.

I, a simple, hapless gryphon, knew well that I was out of my depth and potentially in grave trouble. I had been journeying along the road towards a town called Farthing - alone, in my foolishness. The night had been particularly dark under a new moon, and I had stumbled upon a fork in the road I did not expect. I recalled a hazy sheen that occluded my vision down the path I had chosen, but I dismissed it as an early evening fog and pressed on. Within a half hour I felt lost, the landscape having taken a decidedly unfamiliar shape and the stars confusing and unsettling me. Not long after, a carriage had happened along my path - one from which the gargoyle had emerged and summarily barred my path. With his obvious strength and intimidating demeanour, I had felt little choice but to accept his firm insistence that I would be joining he and his companion.

In the distance, beyond the great manor with its metal gates and its strangely prolific flora of unsettling hues, countless rooftops and chimneys were visible against the overcast sky. Despite my best efforts to maintain my composure, I soon found myself drawing my grey-furred knees towards my chest and wrapping my talons around them, focusing on stilling my breathing while my wings threatened to fold around me like some hatchling.

When at last the carriage came to a halt between a fountain and the great, double doors of the manor, the lady and the gargoyle rose. The gargoyle opened his carriage door and stepped out, ducking his horned head to pass the threshold, then turned to escort the lady down. Beyond them I could see the fountain bore statues most explicit, which brought a swift blush to my nares. The fountain's sculptures were of strange beasts prowling on all fours, spouting water from their mouths or very large and shamelessly exposed genitals.

"Come," the gargoyle instructed. I glanced back to him and saw the lady and he both standing in the rain, watching expectantly. Fearing retribution, I promptly unfolded my limbs and descended from the carriage, certain to keep my gaze from the lewd display of the fountain. In the privacy of my thoughts, I found myself wondering what sort of Lord kept such depraved ornamentation. Such things should be kept strictly private, I felt - even the unmentionables of beasts.

On hesitant paws I followed the gargoyle and lady as they moved past the carriage, towards the entrance to the manor. While I confess that I considered escape, I found myself dreading the potential repercussions. A great lump had formed in my belly and refused to dislodge. Something of the way the gargoyle carried himself spoke volumes: I would not escape this pursuer, neither on foot nor wing. The strange, slender lady with whip-like tail gave me great pause, too.

Overhead I saw peering grotesques watching down over our passing, their stonework covered in creeping moss and lichen. Water dripped from their gaping mouths to splatter on the stone around us. I could already feel the rain beginning to seep into my travel clothing, then down into my feathers and fur. While the former was relatively waterproof, I found my thighs beginning to grow cold under the inclement weather.

The door itself yawned open under some unknown means of locomotion and I was led inside. As the doors closed, I felt my hackles raise and a chill descend through my spine, ending in the tip of my tufted tail. The lady folded her umbrella then handed it to the gargoyle. He took it and slipped it into a metal umbrella stand by the door.

Inside, the manor looked well-tended. I could see immediately that the banisters of the great, curved staircase that rose to the upper levels were quite cleanly and polished. The chandelier which hung from the ceiling was free from cobwebs or signs of spent candles. The smell of food wafted to my nares from somewhere within the confines of the great house, and the occasional sound of a distant clatter reached my keen ears.

"Your coat," the gargoyle said to me. He only spoke in short phrases, his enunciation clipped. Even had I not been their captive, so soaked was my outer-ware by the brief foray through the rain that I would gladly have lightened myself of it. As I slipped free of it, leaving myself clad only in my trousers, vest and undershirt, the lady cocked her head. She opened her mouth, then closed it again. The gargoyle looked to her and gave a simple nod.

I knew not what passed between them, yet all at once I felt something. There was an itch, a cloying sensation at the back of my skull which set my nerves on edge and made my feathers bristle. I keenly realised that I wanted out of that house, though for the time being that was an option barred to me. It was a force in the air, a heaviness that weighed upon one's shoulders when it had no earthly right to. I shifted my weight from paw to paw, as though it might somehow loosen the aetheric grip that felt to be tightening around my neck.

"Go with Beruthen," the lady said to me crisply. I presumed she meant the gargoyle, so as she turned to leave down a corridor, I made no move to follow. I was left standing in the quiet of the entryway with my stone-faced escort and the ticking of a grandfather clock by the base of the stairs. For several moments I stood solemnly, waiting on the leisure of the gargoyle as he, too, remained motionless as his species' namesake. Outside, a distant clap of thunder broke the momentary spell, and his eyes came to settle on me.

"Lord Shurush wishes you bathed," he said. Without further word, he moved swiftly towards a corridor beyond a mahogany doorframe.

Needless to say, I fell into step behind him.

Though he never glanced back to ensure that I was following, I knew that Beruthen was secure in my compliance. He was stoic, yet commanded a cool air of confidence that I was unwilling to test. The gargoyle was broad of shoulder and thick of muscle. His wings were larger than mine and had a thin membrane that contrasted my own dark feathers.

As we traversed the corridors, I began to notice that the Lord of the manor expressed with his interior decorating some of those same uncouth tastes that were evidenced outside. Three-dimensional etchings and sculptures of strange beasts lined the corridors, hanging from walls or resting upon plinths. They varied wildly in design, like something out of the nightmares of a madman, often with tentacled limbs or monstrous bodies. I was reminded of the lady, yet chided myself for such thoughts the moment they occurred.

I found myself repulsed by the disturbing visages around me, yet at the same time could not keep a blush from my beak. Slippery creatures that looked like they had crawled from some tarred pit held down distressed maidens, their unmentionables of absurd proportions poised to do equally unmentionable acts. Bulky beasts that might have stood in for the hounds of Hell themselves towered over prostrate men, the gleam of carnal depravity held in their lifeless eyes. I couldn't help but wonder at what sort of man Lord Shurush was, that he kept such tasteless artistry - if, indeed, one could even call it artistry.

Though I tried my best to keep track of the route that Beruthen lead me on, each time I glanced back I found that I did not recognise our locale. Every turn seemed to vanish into the vast and warren-like labyrinth of the manor, and in short order I was thoroughly lost. The sensation didn't help the slowly smothering feeling that something was not right in this household. Perhaps it was the musty smell that clung to every surface, like a fine layer of springtime pollen that had begun to mould.

Before too long, Beruthen opened a door in the side of one of the passageways and led me in to a notably lavish bathing room. I immediately found myself taken aback by its design.

The floor was of polished mosaic tiles, made to look like a stormy sea. The walls were of a similar mosaic, the horizon and sky to match, with one half of the room suggesting sunset and the other depicting the gloomy encroachment of night. If not for the shadowy figures in the gloom stretching forth grotesquely shaped tentacles, it might have looked pleasant. What struck me most about the design was that the mosaics were not merely coloured tile, but had in fact been textured and raised to give everything a true, three-dimensional relief, as though sculpted.

A chandelier, of all things, hung from the ceiling above a deep and broad tub that looked to be made of exquisite porcelain. Around the edges of the tub, statuettes crouched or sat perched, each one appearing to be a beast of unearthly design. They bore crests upon their head, and thick tails that were cleaved in twain at the tip. Puffy sacs like the inflated throat of a toad encircled their necks, and strange stalk-like protrusions emerged from their faces where eyes should be. Their snouts ended in a beak-like muzzle that looked wickedly sharp.

All of the stone beasts faced towards the tub, and I found myself thoroughly disturbed by the prospect of bathing in their presence. Not least of all because many of them were clearly aroused, their bizarre nethers of ludicrous proportions pointed towards the would-be bather. I wasn't even certain of why my captor desired me bathed. Then again, I had never been captured before - perhaps, I reasoned, it was normal? After all, were I the Lord of a wealthy manor - even one so perversely decorated - I would hardly want a bedraggled bird to be presented to me, still clad in the stench of prolonged travel.

"Is there... somewhere else I may bathe?" I asked, finding my voice at last. The question seemed to make Beruthen stiffen even further, if that were at all possible.

"Lord Shurush has given you use of his personal_bathing room," the gargoyle rumbled. There went that, then. The Lord _bathed in the presence of such off-putting beasts? It was unsettling. "Disrobe."

My mind took a few moments to process the gargoyle's command.

"I beg your pardon?" I asked.

"Disrobe. You will bathe," Beruthen said. I took a half step away from him, feeling my heart leap to my throat.

"I- I will do nothing of the sort in front of another," I declared, firmly as my suddenly trembling voice could manage. "I may be a captive, but I will not parade nude in front of another." Beruthen frowned, then tightened his jaw.

Right when he appeared to begin to say something, he paused, head cocking ever so slightly. Then he gave a nod towards me, one that somehow failed to fill me with relief.

"Very well," he said. "I shall wait outside. Pull on the chain to fill the bath," he said, gesturing with one great, clawed hand to a chain near the side of the bathtub. "Soap is in the third statue's grip. You have one half of an hour."

I thanked Beruthen as he left. Whatever else, I refused to be discourteous, particularly to someone who held me in their power. If nothing else, I would at least try to be the better man. When he departed, the door closing behind him, I gave a soft sigh.

Making my way over to the chain by the bathtub, I inspected it. It appeared to be an ordinary chain, connected to something in the ceiling overhead. Perhaps, I thought, it might be a new bath of running water? I had never sampled such a feature before. Hesitantly, I gave the chain a pull. True to my musing, the sound of cascading water reached my ears, and so I reached down and began to disrobe.

Once I had shed my vest, I noticed whence the water was cascading. I felt my stomach turn slightly. Streams of water were fountaining from the nethers of the beastly statuettes. Cascading from monstrous tips, pouring from beneath one upturned leg of a beast urinating like a wild dog, or - on two of them, less disturbingly - erupting forth from their mouths. The notion of bathing in the tub went from unpleasant to mildly nauseating.

Yet, I would. I was hardly in a position to argue with my captors, and Beruthen would easily discern my state of wash when I emerged. I had a sinking feeling that if I were not thoroughly scrubbed when he returned, he would do the deed himself!

I shed my clothing most reluctantly, then slipped into the bathtub one paw at a time. The water was comfortably warm. I washed, though I remained at the far end of the basin, away from the lewd streams of entry for as long as I could. Unfortunately, the soaps were in the grip of the third statue, which was poised on its hinds, its maleness on clear display. To collect them I had to venture right up to it and cautiously fish them free from its paws. I felt dirtier for the act and used a copious amount of oil from within the elegant, crystal bottles.

As I sat there in the tub, scrubbing my feathers and fur free from the grime of my travel, I found myself gradually relaxing somewhat. Lord Shurush, enigmatic figure that he was, seemed to bear no inclination towards harming me. The question of my capture had paraded around the edges of my weary mind since I was collected by Beruthen and the lady earlier that day, but I had been reticent towards answering it. The unknown was not kind to the imagination.

Now though, in the conceptually unclean waters of the tub, surrounded by motifs of depravity and the wyrd, I found my mind at last returning to the question. Why was I a captive? I was not overly wealthy, though I bore an education. I had no valuables to offer. I was not hardy enough to be enslaved, and even if I had been then I - a gryphon, one of the nobler species - would be more trouble than I was surely worth, to a would-be slaver. Too many questions would be asked, too many eyes would give scrutiny.

I was surely not being held for ransom nor questioning, for so far as I could tell I had been collected at random by the wayside. No... Truly, I had no idea.

I did not stay in the bath for long. Though my mind slowly began to unwind, it was an uneasy relaxation, one marred by the sensation that though I was by myself, I was not truly alone. There was a creeping trickle down the back of my spine which spoke softly to my brain - someone is here. Shortly after entering, I emerged from the bathwaters and dried myself with a provided towel.

I set it down and inspected myself in front of a full-length mirror set in to one of the walls, making sure I was presentable. My fur had lost the dirt of travel that clung to it and darkened from a deep grey back to my natural near-black. My feathers had done the same. My wings, always slow to dry, dripped the last vestibules of water onto the towel beneath my paws, the claws of which had grown slightly too long. They would need a trim. My green eyes looked weary, and I made an effort to relax my brow to lessen the effect. It had only a negligible effect though, and I flicked my leonine tail in disapproval.

As I did, my eyes caught sight of the aroused statuettes in the mirror. I flushed and averted my gaze, yet... somehow, found my eyes wandering back. They had ceased loosing water into the tub by now, for which I was grateful, but still stood on shameless display. All of the beasts were the same, and I had begun to suspect that they were perhaps representing the same creature. Some twisted pet of Shurush? It seemed to have a laughably unrealistic size to it, though. I gazed down at my own fuzzy sheath. The mere crown of the statue's shaft was equal in size to my dark-furred sheath itself, my pink tip just peeking outwards from its home between my thighs. Simply one of the beast's testes alone were larger than my entire pair quadrupled. They were almost comical, like what one might find on some ancient deity of fertility.

In a way, focusing on the absurdity of it helped calm my slowly fraying nerves. With a slightly less leaden feeling in the pit of my stomach, I gathered my clothing and dressed once again, before emerging from the bathroom.

Beruthen was standing outside of the door, waiting patiently. As he saw me, he adjusted the plain suit jacket that he wore, and then motioned for me to follow. I did so.

Beruthen led me down several corridors, each one lined with various decorations of varying levels of unpleasant indulgency. Some were innocent - though macabre, showing creatures of an alien nature looming over a city uncomfortably like the one I found myself in, or strange contraptions and devices being operated by gangly or slender fiends. Others were explicit, making me turn my beak up.

We passed several servants this time, each one a different species than the last. They ranged from a hare to a lizard, then on and into the weird and strange with more creatures whose name I did not know, much like the lady. I found their almost eldritch-touched nature difficult to look at, and Beruthen rarely slowed, so I found that it was easiest to pay them little mind.

In short order, we arrived at a large pair of double doors that reminded me vaguely of the outer entrance. Beruthen stopped before them and bade me wait. I hesitated behind him, mindful of his thick, stony tail. When he made no movement, I cleared my throat.

"Should we not... knock?" I asked. Beruthen spared me a glance of the utmost brevity.

"Lord Shurush knows we are here," he rumbled. Perhaps, I reasoned, one of the servants we had passed had rushed on ahead? I said nothing though, and instead opted for silence. Soon enough, my quiescence was repaid.

Beruthen pushed open the doors, and we stepped into a large, open ballroom. Tables lined the walls, each one covered in various foods and refreshments of a style I had never seen before. In the corners of the rooms, I could see what looked like living creatures that had been bound into insidious contraptions and positions. Horrifyingly, none were clothed, and they were invariably in some state of shamelessly exhibitionistic distress. I averted my gaze quickly, looking to an area untainted by such depravity. To be naked in such an open space filled me with deep-seated sympathetic embarrassment. I would never be caught in less than proper pantaloons and a shirt at the least.

I felt my stomach drop out and my knees grow shaky. The lewd sculptures and paintings; the monstrous fixation in the manor's décor; the bound captives - potentially just like myself, sealed into obscene positions and clearly writhing. Was this to be my fate? To be stripped of my garments, then bound in some humiliating position by hooks and chains? I had done nothing wrong!

My gaze fell, then, upon the centre of the room. My breath caught.

Sitting on the most luscious and velveteen cushion I had ever seen was a beast. A great, intimidating beast, a living incarnation of the statuettes in the bathroom. It lounged on all fours, surrounded by no less than three of the manor's staff. One, a grey lizard of thin design, stood beside its great and crested head, a bowl cupped in both of his hands. A second, a small drake of purple scalework, knelt beside the beast with a fan as he sent streams of air across its thick, leathery flanks. A third, a curious, four-armed creature of black and chitinous hide stood behind it, using a cloth to rub and clean its particularly scute-covered, spiky back.

Shurush indeed had a favoured pet.

I found myself struggling to take my eyes off of the beast. I stood there, feeling dumbstruck, my beak surely agape as I took in the sheer reality of the creature. Despite my earlier dismissal, I found that the statuettes had been far from exaggerated in proportion. Between the beast's hind legs I could see a pair of orbs that, if anything, were _larger_than the bathroom statuettes implied, its leathery sheath enormous and puffy. I forced my gaze up to its head.

The beast was eyeless, I could see. Indeed, it lacked even any space for eyes. The closest it bore were two slender, blue-touched stalks that reminded me of an insect's antennae, or perhaps a snail's eyes. They didn't seem to see, yet I could still tell - the creature was looking at me. Perhaps it was the way it cocked its head in my direction, or the way its hooked, beak-like snout tilted as it lounged. I felt almost compelled to approach the monster. A soft, cloying tug at the back of my awareness that I should get closer.

I very much did not want to.

"Forwards," Beruthen commanded, and I felt his tail urge against my back. The touch jolted me, and I took a step forward. Then, another. And then another.

As though my paws had turned traitor, I couldn't stop myself from walking towards the leathery beast, its non-gaze strangely magnetic. When at last I came to a stop I was right in front of it, close enough to smell its fetid breath. I swallowed, feeling my whole body tremble.

Beruthen paused beside me, and then... knelt. I found myself looking at him. Was Shurush so particular that he bade his servants bow to his pets?

I wanted to run, then. Yet I knew that I was within striking distance of the beast before me. It lay there placidly, but it could move and claim my head from my neck with but a snap of its great jaws. I knew, somehow, that it wanted me to remain still... and not for love of God could I bring myself to defy it.

It leaned forwards, the terrible beast, and brought its beak-like snout close to my own. I drew in a shaky breath, watching where those powerful jaws went. Its stalks bent forwards, coming to curl in the air either side of my head, and I clenched my talons into fists. Was this a test? Would it eat me if I failed? I felt paralysed. Dimly, I realised that the presence_that pervaded the house felt so very strong here. The clinging miasma of _will that radiated through the household had a focal point in this ballroom.

Then, the beast struck.

My eyes widened as the beast's grotesque jaw twisted and snapped at my head, and I feared myself dead. I opened my beak to cry out and was silenced. Beak-like jaws closed against my own, and before I could form a thought, I felt something intensely hot and slippery slither into my beak. A muffled cry was all that escaped as I realised the beast forced its thick, almost eel-like tongue into my jaws.

I wanted to bite down. I wanted to spit it out. Yet something inside me, some force greater than myself held me still, held me standing in place as the beast plunged its tongue across my own. I tasted its slimy saliva and wanted to gag. Then I saw its toad-like throat sac compress, and a puff of blueish vapour erupted from its beak.

I spluttered and inhaled in surprise, drawing that thick miasma deep into my own lungs. I tried to push it back out, but the beast suddenly closed its jaws and locked my beak to its own.

I breathed out, but it was only into the beast's snout. I could taste the wispy vapours that were being pumped out of its mouth and into my own. My eyes wide, I struggled to hold my breath, for somewhere within my core I knew I was in trouble. Not a one of the servants so much as flinched as this happened.

Breathe.

A shudder ran down my spine, and I inhaled. I wasn't sure why I inhaled, but I did, deeply as I ever had. I sucked in a great lungful of the beast's vapour.

Hold it.

I held it, my eyes wide. Quickly, a strange feeling of dizziness swept through my thoughts. I tried to groan, but could not. I couldn't move from where I stood. I could only stand, feeling the beast's tongue slowly writhe between my beak, its foul saliva mingling with my own. What was wrong with me?

Good pet. Release.

Suddenly, the beast let me go. Then this was Shurush's pet? I spluttered and gasped, coughing up little wisps of blue vapour as I regained my air, doubling over with one talon to my chest. What had happened?

I bound you.

"Who... who said that?" I found myself asking, struggling to regulate my breathing again. The servants did not respond, and Beruthen remained kneeling.

I did.

The voice seemed to come from all around me, its source hard to pinpoint. It was a strange sensation, as being a gryphon, my hearing had always been on par with eagles. The voice sounded deep, resonant, almost like a purr. It had a hint of an amused quality to it.

"Lord... Shurush?" I asked, hesitantly. "Where are you?"

Do you not recognise your Lord when he lays before you?

My gaze slowly ceased its wandering as ideas began to connect in my head.

Yes.

I lifted my eyes to the great, alien beast before me.

"...Lord... Shurush?" I repeated. The beast let forth a rumbling chitter and cocked its head.

Well done.

It tilted its head then towards the grey reptile serving at its side. Another , the strange voice said, though the beast's mouth made no motion. Not until the servant plucked a wriggling, centipede-like creature from the bowl and dangled it for the beast. The beast snapped it up with a clack of its beak-like jaws and began chewing.

"You... You're..."

Do not be rude.

A great urgency welled up in my chest to bite back the words that had been at the back of my throat. I swallowed. "How are you talking?" I asked instead. The creature's tail flicked back and forth. Shurush, I corrected myself.

Lord Shurush , the voice rumbled, as though knowing and further correcting my thoughts. Come, now. Have you not felt my touch since you entered this manor? My will, permeating your thoughts, easing you towards our meeting? Now you have drawn my essence, and our bond is made. You hear my commands as all my servants, not merely my intent.

I glanced around nervously, then settled my gaze back to Shurush. It - he was deeply unsettling to look at. I found myself wanting to look anywhere but at that feral snout, but it was hard to look away.

"Why am I here?" I asked, the effort of forcing air from my lungs surprisingly difficult.

Because I willed it. You wandered into my domain, and I desired you.

"Your domain?" I asked quickly. "No, no, there must be some misunderstanding, Lord. I am but a traveller, on my way to Farthing," I explained, my heart thundering in my chest. I watched as Shurush snapped up the last of the wriggling morsel and swallowed, and found my belly churning. I could see his chest rising and falling as he breathed in languid contentment at the dreadful snack.

No? his rumbling voice asked, somehow directly into my brain. How presumptuous the pet is. There was a sudden vague nodding that came from Beruthen and the other servants. Were they privy to Shurush's words as I was? It was such a foreign concept, to hear without sound. I did not like the way he used the word pet.

Drumming up my own courage and steeling my nerves, I spoke again. "Pet? I am no pet," I said. I feared that if I did not vouch for myself now, then Shurush would take that as concession, a notion that filled me with dread. His response quickened my pulse all the more, and I found my hackles once again rising.

But you are. Now you shall sit and watch by my side; I have limited time before a dinner with an esteemed guest, and first desire a show before I further address you.

Shurush folded his wicked-looking paws across one another and flicked his tail to a point beside his flank. I opened my beak to speak, but my feet were already moving. I did not wish to further irritate the strange and powerful beast, and swiftly moved to the space he indicated, adjacent to his lounging hind legs.

I found myself sitting down beside his rear, and in one motion his tail curled around my body, encircling it in a gesture that was equally protective and possessive. Beside me, I was disgusted to find his unmentionables, mere inches away.

Shurush truly was an animal in that regard. He had a pair of plump orbs, each one easily as large as my entire head, resting below a puffy, plump sheath. It was large enough that I felt I could have fit my hand within it had I been so inclined, and I found myself mortified by how casually the beast displayed himself. His equipment was large enough that, laying as he was with his hindquarters rotated to the side, he need keep one of his hind legs ever so slightly elevated to make room for that leathery pouch. Worse yet, further below it was a large, puckered anus, a round doughnut of fleshy hide that looked obscene all by itself. It was truly the equipment of a feral, nightmarish beast - not anything belonging to the one in charge of a wealthy household.

Why, then, had I sat down beside it? Adjacent to Shurush's most intimate regions? I had no real answer; I only knew that to defy his orders now would be an unwise move. I felt almost compelled to obey, despite my misgivings. So, I tried my best to ignore his unmentionables and focus ahead, on whatever this 'show' was to be.

Bring it forth , Shurush's voice resonated. I knew,somehow, that it was directed towards Beruthen. The gargoyle rose from his kneeling position, then retreated to a doorway at the side of the ballroom - pausing only momentarily at the threshold to bow.

Only seconds later, the door opened once again, and Beruthen wheeled in what appeared to be a trolley. On the trolley was perched a green-scaled lizard, stripped naked, in most sinister restraints. I was not sure if it was a man or a lady for reptilian anatomy was not a field I ever particularly fancied - yet I knew enough to know that both genders bore clefts between their thighs. The poor creature wore a pair of goggles like something out of a medical laboratory, except that the lenses had been blackened to blind them. Their tail had been bound by thick, metal rings to a wrought-iron collar around their neck, and their hands were cuffed behind their back. They were kneeling, their ankles and knees bound by chains to anchor points on the trolley, leaving them humiliatingly spread. Their head was tilted upwards, staring at the ceiling, and held in place by a hook above the trolley that was positioned there by a frame. Their snout had been forced open by some metallic device, keeping their jaws wide. It was perhaps the most dreadful, tortuous position I had ever seen - and I dreaded the thought that I may wind up in a similar position if I did not play my hand wisely. I spied two black pots on the trolley either side of the unfortunate reptile.

Beruthen brought the contraption forwards and positioned it in front of Shurush.

"My Lord," Beruthen spoke.

Let me taste him , Shurush's words came. I looked at the beast. Surely not...? Yet Beruthen wheeled the trolley yet closer still. I could see the trembling in the muscles of the trapped reptile I now knew to be male. Without moving from his lounging position, Shurush leaned forwards and began to sniff at the lizard. I sought to look away, yet... could not bring myself to.

Shurush's nostrils flared as he drew forth the reptile's scent, and I watched as he curled his stalks either side of the captive's head. The reptile shuddered, and a soft whimper issued forth from his throat. Shurush loosed his tongue and ran the blueish muscle along the reptile's neck, from collarbone to snout, genuinely and truly tasting the poor fellow. Then, with a puff that contracted his plush neck sac, a plume of equally blueish vapour surrounded the reptile's head.

In mere moments, I saw his trembling lessen, his body relax.

Such delightful fear. Take heart, little morsel, you shall bring your Lord great enjoyment. Beruthen.

The gargoyle moved forwards and picked up one of the black pots.

"What are you doing to him?" I found myself asking, while simultaneously dreading the answer. Shurush did not deign to answer my query. Perhaps he felt that witnessing it would be enough. I sorely wished to close my eyes, yet still I found I could not, as though some damnable fascination had overtaken my senses. Shurush's tail slapped my side, soft enough not to genuinely harm me, but firmly enough to make the message clear: this was not a time for interruptions.

Beruthen set the black pot down on the ground beside him, then moved the second one beneath the reptile. In one swift motion, he popped the lid free from the pot beneath the softly writhing lizard.

The best way that I could describe them would be as slugs. They were slimy, plump, and an off-green in colour. They wriggled and flopped across each other, the pot filled to the brim with them. I felt that there must have been two or three hundred within that large, black container. In mere moments, suddenly free from their prison, they began to squirm and slither over the lip and onto the surface of the trolley.

In horror I watched as they slipped and slid along the trolley in all directions. The edges had evidently been salted - or whatever equivalent repelled these strange gastropods - for they turned back whenever they reached the lip of the trolley. In short order, several found the lizard's legs, and began to slither onto them.

The lizard began to thrash and let out alarmed, wordless groans.

Yes, Shurush's touch came. You feel them. Your new brethren. Squirm, little lizard, but there is no escape.

The slugs seemed to 'stick' to the reptile's scales, and easily began to slither up his legs. I had a sinking sensation of what might be to come, judging by the displays that dotted the corners of the room. Yet placed as I was, right beside the beast, I felt that I could do naught to help the captive. I could only watch as increasingly numerous trails of glistening slime were left in the wake of the slugs as they crept up the thrashing lizard's bound body.

It is my pets' spawning season, and they do so need a receptive host. My servants tell me you are a matching green; at least you will keep your colours. Are you ready to lose yourself?

Writhing and thrashing, I watched as the lizard pulled and tugged at his restraints. An urgent noise of fright filtered out from his muzzle. Then, before my eyes, one of the slugs oozed its way to the lip of his genital slit. With a monumental effort of will, I closed my eyes.

Watch, pet.

I found myself helplessly opening them again, just as the lizard let loose a long whimper. The fat, slimy invertebrate pushed open the lizard's folds and began to ooze its way into his helpless body. His thrashing redoubled. In mere moments, a second one had found his slit, and was probing for entrance after its companion. Then, another. I could see a similar line of invertebrates making for the ring of muscle beneath his tail, too.

Perhaps if you struggle hard enough, you can push them back out. It takes time before their slime will begin to change you, little lizard. Perhaps you can escape your fate?

The lizard tried. Truly he did. I saw the strain in his body as he struggled to push the offending gastropods back out. It was a horrifying display, and I found myself dreading the outcome. Particularly as, though he struggled and strove, more and more of the unpleasant invertebrates slithered and slid up towards his vulnerable openings. Eight, nine, ten... I couldn't help but count as they forced their way into his slit. I dared not to think about how many had to be squashing themselves into his thankfully out-of-sight anus. I could see thick, sticky slime starting to drip from his slit as it rubbed off the bodies of the creatures that slipped into him.

Not one slug had re-emerged.

A helpless, strangled noise escaped from the lizard's throat, and Shurush crooned out a bestial noise of pleasure.

They're getting excited, lizard. It will not be long now. Hurry, or you will be theirs, your mind spurting out with every orgasm.

Thrashing against his bonds, I could see the reptile straining and trembling. He seemed terrified to my eyes, yet the slugs would not relent. Then, after nearly a minute of the awful affair, something most unexpected happened. What I at first thought to be a pair of slugs swiftly revealed themselves to be the lizard's maleness, beginning to push free from his slippery parting. I had never seen a reptile's member before, and my eyes widened as the tapering, slightly ribbed tips informed me that his kind bore two. They swiftly rose, pushing past the inquisitive slugs, coming to stand proudly in the air. Shurush let out a trilling chirp that through his intrusive bond I felt was delight.

He enjoys it! How crude, his mental voice came, ringing with enthusiasm. Let us feed that growing fire then, little slug-sac.

By Shurush's unspoken cue, Beruthen picked up the second black pot. I dreaded the contents, for I did not need to guess at what was inside. As the gargoyle handled the pot, producing what looked to be a glass funnel from somewhere I had not seen, I noticed that the lizard was writhing much more urgently now. I could hear his noises, slowly but surely shifting from whimpers and splutters to pants and suppressed hisses. The slugs slipped and slid between his thighs still, looking more like a living mass than anything. In patches it was hard to see his scales at all beneath the flowing wrigglers.

Still several of the slugs squashed their way between his twinned maleness to ease their way into his slit, which by now sported a horrifying bulge to it, hinting at the mass of invertebrates that had oozed their way into his body. Yet many, now, had begun the nauseating journey _along_the lengths of his arousals, making them bow slightly under their weight. I felt my own thighs clenching together, trying not to imagine what might come next. For the most concerning thing of all, I noted, was that the lizard was beginning to drip a greenish slime from the tips of his arousals, just like that of the slugs.

Then Beruthen was standing beside the lizard, careful not to touch him I noted, and attaching the glass funnel to the trolley's stand. He slid it downwards until, spurring a sickening feeling in my belly, the funnel's nozzle slipped into the reptile's open mouth. Beruthen pushed it downwards, the tube large enough to make me want to gag sympathetically, so much so that a small bulge appeared in the lizard's throat. His restrained thrashing resumed, but his head was held in place securely enough that it did nothing.

Then, to my utmost horror, Beruthen hefted the black pot and began to pour. Slugs - countless dozens of them - began to slip and slop over the edge and into the funnel. Some missed and fell down onto the trolley to join the masses beneath the lizard, but so many more began to slide, guided by the funnel, into the lizard's throat. At the same time, an adventurous slug began to nuzzle and push gently at his left urethra, its body compressing. I watched as it forced itself inwards, and from the way the lizard strained, I surmised it must be enormously painful. Or, an even more worried part of my mind chimed, enormously pleasurable.

Before my eyes, the lizard's belly began to round out slightly, just as did his pelvis. The deep, purple-pink flesh of his malenesses began to turn green in patches, and vaguely translucent. The green colouration began to spread, and slime began to ooze from his scales like thick sweat. He was changing.

That's it, little slug-sac. No more thoughts. It feels good to do as your brethren insist , Shurush's thoughts crooned. I wanted to look away. Pet, you may tend me , his command came then, and like a spell that had been broken, I found myself at last able to turn away from the horror on the trolley.

As I averted my gaze, I was met with a horror of my own.

Shurush was 'enjoying' his show.

Blue and bestial, his own maleness had jutted forth from his puffy sheath and was presenting itself proudly for all his servants to see. Its size matched his outrageous orbs and a clear, viscous fluid was dripping from the engorged crown.

"I- I beg your pardon?" I somehow managed to choke out.

Attend me. As I am feeling generous, you may use whatever part of yourself as you see fit.

I stared at Shurush's rigid erection, my mind processing just what I was being instructed -compelled to do. I had, I could not deny, tended to my own needs from time to time, for after all what gryphon - what man - had not? Yet the idea of tending to an animal's needs, no matter what pomp or ceremony he had accrued through powers arcane, made my stomach lurch. I tore my vision away from his bestial, dribbling shaft to find Shurush staring down at me. Even without eyes, I felt the weight of his regard on my stunned form.

Well? came his mental inquiry.

"I... will not," I somehow managed to croak.

You would defy your master? his voice resounded in my head. I felt my heart race, and a shiver ran through my spine, making the tip of my leonine tail spasm. I was aware of how precarious my position was.

"I am not a harlot, nor a slut," I said, my voice suddenly hoarse. "I have dignity."

Shurush let out a trilling noise that reminded me again of how uncivilised the beast's nature was. How primal, how wild when compared to the civil decorum of modern society.

You think it undignified to tend your Lord? No, my pet, it is undignified to disobey him. You shall tend me.

I felt a wave of impulse race through my brain, and my heartbeat thrummed in my chest. He was terrifying before me. His claws sharp, his beak wicked. He looked to weigh several times what I did. I knew that horses weighed many times a man, and Shurush was on par with the largest of draft stallions. Did I truly want to upset such an alien yet clear predator?

Ah! A flash of recognition ran through my mind. This! This, I realised, was Shurush's influence preying upon my thoughts. Just as I had known his will, just as now he spoke into my mind, some dim part of me realised that the fear and the apprehension was part of how he was willing me to submit. I steeled my resolve. Though he was strong, I could - I would resist.

"You cannot make me," I said, my beak tight.

A deep, resonant bell rang through the air.

The note was silent, and I heard nothing, but I felt the resonant tolling of a deep, sonorous gong. Lord Shurush's regard softened, and I saw him inch his head towards me, his demeanour forgiving and patient.

You will tend me, he rumbled. With your beak.

I felt a deep, welling happiness surge up in my chest, and I crawled forwards from Lord Shurush's side. My eyes roaming over his proud, majestic body, I found my eyes inexorably drawn to his throbbing, drooling cock, the broad crown oozing his sacred slime. I felt my mouth watering and curled my tail up and over the small of my back. I knew that my Lord would desire to mount me eventually, and the idea that he might make it immediate had my own little shaft thickening in my sheath. I soon felt it poke into the fabric of my trousers and grimaced at my lack of foresight, for Lord Shurush would want me more appropriately undressed.

But for now, I was captivated by his churning, plump balls and his proud, resplendant cock, the most enticing sight I had ever seen. I felt a blush blooming through my beak as I crawled reverently to his front, then brought my head forward to the almost steaming tip of his shaft. The plump, bulbous tip throbbed slowly, occasionally pushing out a dollop of viscous ooze that I desperately wanted to taste. That I needed to taste. He lifted his hindleg a little more, and his majestic spire bounced a little, shaking some slime loose to drip onto the floor. I suppressed a chirp of almost heartbreak - perhaps if I was diligent enough, he would let me lick it up again like the good pet I was. It was more than I deserved, to drink in his most intimate spill.

Are you excited, pet? his regal voice tolled in my mind.

"Yes," I whispered reverently.

Are you enjoying this?

"Yes," I breathed, feeling my own, inferior cock growing slowly but steadily harder, slipping free from my sheath. I didn't deserve such attention, yet I could not stop my body from pleading to be touched as I worshiped my Lord. I saw the purple drake near to me smiling knowingly, and I licked the edges of my beak at the notion that so many would be there to bear witness to the first time I tended our magnificent Lord.

If I say you will tend me, what shall you do?

"Anything you wish, my Lord... my body is your plaything," I trembled, spasms of unbridled lust tingling up and down my body. I had sunk to all fours, my beak a bare inch from Lord Shurush's magnificent, pulsating cock, waiting for his mental permission to please him, to sate him as he enjoyed the end of his show. I could smell his thick, primal aroma of arousal, salty and laden with his intoxicating musk. Though I knew he saw in ways that I and my fellow servants did not, I still parted my beak and extended my tongue in the hopes it might entice him to let me begin faster.

Remember that, pet. But I would have you as yourself, not as merely another of countless toys.

Suddenly, a weight lifted from my mind. I shuddered and my muscles tensed, and I sucked in a sharp breath. Blinking rapidly, I felt myself again, and recoiled in horror from the obscenity before me. Had I truly thought such despicable things?

I found myself falling back onto my own rump, pulling away from the beast as fast as my body could move, nearly bumping into the sinister trolley. I could still feel my own cursed arousal tenting my trousers, and Shurush's foul scent played across my nostrils.

"What... what did you do?" I asked, my voice wispy and strained.

I corrected a notion, pet. You are mine. You have will because I desire it. If I did not, you would be the one on the trolley entertaining me.

I turned my head slightly to the side, and immediately wished I had not. The lizard was a reptile no longer, and in his place was a slimy creature that looked like someone had crossed a lizard with a slug in some horrific manuscript. His limbs had warped into much stubbier affairs, no longer ending in five digits - instead they each ended in two bulbous, almost frog-like graspers. His tail, now translucent like gelatine and the same sickly green as the slugs, had fattened to a gastropodian limb, and the tip appeared to be hollow. His belly had swollen to absurd proportions that threatened to bulge over the lip of the trolley, and within I could see the inky shapes of countless hundreds of slugs wriggling around their host. His head had undergone a sinister metamorphosis into a soft, blunt appendage, complete with eye-stalks and a fat organ that could have been a tongue, or something much lewder. His malenesses had undergone a similar transformation, blossoming into thick, tentacle-like limbs that ended in flowery tips, both jutting out from beneath his swollen belly. Fluids erupted at random from both of them, as well as what had been his tail and tongue, and I swiftly forced myself to look away. Even as I did, I thought I saw the vaguest hint of an empty-headed smile on the remaining creature's slimy muzzle, and that disturbed me most of all.

Such radiant bliss he exhibits. He fought hard, but by the end he lusted for more. Take him to the pit, he will need to lay soon.

I gazed at Shurush's still pulsating arousal, anticipating and dreading the moment he again commanded me to interact with it. I had not been myself. I had not been in my right mind - it was as though what the beast had wanted, I had wanted, as keenly as I longed for breath or clean water or the rush of flight in the open skies. I felt my beak tremble.

"I-I do not w-want this," I whispered, the boldest objection I dared, trying to still my quavering voice. Beruthen stepped forward and began to wheel the transformed reptile away.

Nor do I desire you to join the masses, pet. I have enough thralls and toys for my entertainment; I wish to try someone not wholly under my paw. Upon hearing your intrusion into my domain, I was delighted. To that end, I extend you this grace: so long as you behave, your will shall be your own.

"How can my... How can my w-will be my own if I must do what you say?" I asked, my throat dry, my heart heavy. A miasma of dread clung to my thoughts.

I will refrain from commanding you unless necessary. You may decline my requests, so long as I deem your choice reasonable.

Reasonable? What in the world would this beast deem reasonable? Surely not what I would deem reasonable!

"And wh...what is... what constitutes... reason--ah, reasonable?" I asked slowly.

For simplicity, let us begin by defining it as something which you have at least attempted to your best effort.

"And... if I do not give what you deem is my best effort..."

You will be punished.

I swallowed down a great lump in my throat. Why was this happening to me? I had been a hapless traveller! I had done nothing to warrant this unethical treatment! This was unfair, unjust, debasing. And yet, there was naught I could do. I ran my tongue across the edges of my beak and flattened my ears, my wings drawing tightly to my back.

"Will you make me 'tend' you?" I asked, dreading the answer. To my eminent surprise and relief, he answered to the negative.

No, it is clear you are hardly ready for such a task. I would settle today for less.

"Less?" I asked, hesitantly. My tail flicked in uncertainty.

Lower your beak to my crown.

I sucked in a heavy breath, weighing my options as my gaze dipped to his still engorged maleness. Could I willingly do such a depraved act? I looked up to his broad, crested head. My throat felt as dry as the deserts of home. If I did not, then I would further anger the beast, and perhaps again I would feel what it was to fall under his total sway. A sway under which he would surely make me do much more. The notion frightened me. No... No, I couldn't bear that thought. I forced myself to swallow. I could tell he was waiting. Perhaps, if I complied here, I would last long enough to seek some measure of escape.

I found myself keenly, agonisingly aware of time passing. The seconds trickled onwards like treacle, and each one sank into my head as a warning flare of how much time I had until Shurush decided I was not 'giving my best effort'. Each slow, gradual second was punctuated by a pulse from that vile shaft. When Shurush's stalks began to curl towards me, I made my decision.

I moved forwards, crouching down. I placed my talons on the ground. I wanted to close my eyes, but daren't, lest I accidentally _touch_the thing. I pushed my beak closer. Closer ... until it hovered, a bare inch from that drooling, disgusting crown. I wanted to gag.

Inhale. Through your nostrils.

Stationary, I shut my eyes. I inhaled.

A pungent scent, the stink of ripe and potent bestial virility flooded my nares. I could smell the beast's musk, his salty stench that eked from every pore of his blue maleness.

Good pet.

His praise made me shiver, and not in a pleasant way.

Now, your last challenge. Extend your tongue and lick me.

"L-lick your..."

My shaft, yes. Come, pet, it is no different than licking my spore-sac or my crest. I merely enjoy such touches there.

"It--it is your reproductive organ," I protested, my beak suddenly quivering violently.

If you would find it easier as a first step, you may instead lick my rump instead. I delight in touches there as well.

I blanched. This was awful. This was unreal. I screwed up my hesitance and, feeling my heart thunder in my chest, I extended my tongue.

Contact.

I felt heat, wet and warm and uncannily soft, meet my tongue. Salty, oily slime clung to my tongue. I almost slurped it back in reflexively, but somehow I managed to press it against the beast's crown long enough to lick upwards. I heard his growling trill as my oral appendage licked his broad, slippery crown, and I withdrew my tongue post-haste. His flavour, strong and musty, clung to my tastebuds in an overpowering way.

Well done, pet. That is a promising result.

A wave of adrenaline-stained relief flowed through my system, and I shakily drew back, my body trembling.

Beside me, pet.

It was not a command. I felt no compulsion. Yet I knew that I must. On suddenly weary limbs, I half crawled, half stumbled forwards to rest beside Shurush, my brain still processing the ordeal. I chose the side opposite to his jutting arousal, eager to put something between it and I - even if it was only its owner's body.

Moxy.

The purple scaled servant who had until then been quietly fanning Shurush scrambled to attention as I grappled with the reality of what had been happening. The servant was small, a runt of a dragon by the looks of him. He wore only a simple loincloth, gilded around the edges. Although the garment looked lavish and fine, its brevity afforded the creature no privacy - I could see his unnaturally large orbs behind it. I hoped that Shurush would deem my dress code should remain similar to Beruthen's, for I felt that I would rather die than have someone see me in such scant clothing as a mere loincloth. I presumed that Moxy was this servant's name, for he responded to Shurush's wordless bidding.

This is one I broke long ago. It is a loyal toy. So great has been its devotion that I restored its maleness to it some months after it lost it in one of my experiments and awarded it a place by my side. I did contemplate keeping it female, particularly after some of my other experiments began siring eggs in it, but I believe I prefer it as it is.

I watched as Moxy dropped to all fours before Shurush's maleness, just as I had shamefully been while under his spell. I tried to process what Shurush had just so casually revealed to me. This purple dragon, with his ice-blue horns and matching underbelly, had somehow been made into a lady? And then subsequently turned back? It seemed preposterous, yet I had not fifteen minutes prior seen a lizard warped to some monstrous mockery of nature.

Even as I watched, the servant pushed his snout to Shurush's engorged crown and took a deep, long inhalation, as though he were a dragon just surfaced from the depths of the ocean, taking his first breath in long minutes. Shurush's maleness pulsed in response, which prompted the dragon-runt to part his muzzle and extend his tongue. I turned my head away.

Watch, pet. You would do well to learn. It is my favourite toy, and you two will become well acquainted.

That was a command. I felt it in my very soul. A pulsating urgency to watch, as though it were of utmost importance. I knew that it was simply Shurush who had commanded it, yet I found myself unable to even try to look away.

I was made to watch as Moxy began to lavish that bestial spire. I was unable to divert my gaze as he cleaned Shurush's crown with only his tongue, the tip of it wriggling between the plush creases of his animalistic, triangular flare. As he moved his lips to the strange, bulbous protrusions that rimmed that plump tip and began to lovingly, gently suckle on each one. I heard Shurush trill out in pleasure.

Worst of all, it was clear that the poor fellow enjoyed it. His burnt-orange eyes lidded over in obvious pleasure as he tended his despicable, beastly master. The sheer difference in size was frightful, for Shurush's crown looked like it would only barely fit between the drakelet's jaws at a stretch.

Then, abruptly, I felt one of Shurush's wicked paws press gently down on the back of my head. One of his bestial claws brushed one of my ears, and I froze. Yet, he showed no inclination to harm me, instead simply beginning to knead and massage my skull. It was a surprising turn as, if anything, the motion felt... pleasant.

I watched in surprising comfort as Moxy began to utterly worship Shurush's shaft. As he dragged his tongue down its length, slurping up traces of viscous slime. I watched as he gave the large organ a veritable tongue-bath, regularly pausing to huff thick lungfuls of air as Shurush's other servants stood by attentively. They seemed to pay no attention to the depraved scene before them, not even when Shurush craned his head down and blew out puffs of what I now knew were 'spores' around Moxy's head. The purple dragon moaned as he inhaled them, and his tail began to wag like that of a dog.

Then, without any further bidding, Moxy positioned his purple jaws before the beast's plump unmentionable and parted his lips. I say parted, yet it was more like he yawned his mouth to a wide, immense gape, an image not unlike a snake trying to dislocate its jaws. Moxy's mouth was barely able to fit around the crown, yet he did anyway. Then, he sank his mouth onto the beast's maleness.

I suppressed a sympathetic gag as I witnessed the drakelet stuff his muzzle with the beast, swallowing down the enormous, fleshy crown, his eyes rolling back in his head. I saw Shurush's shaft pulse, and then heard the servant swallow. I wished I could pretend they were unrelated, yet I knew that Moxy would be swallowing something.

Shurush's beak-like jaws parted, and I saw his tongue slowly loll from his snout. Moxy slurped and suckled like a hatchling with a tasty all-day sucker, and I wished I could look away. Saliva dripped from his lips around the greasy spire. Then at last, Shurush gave a rumble.

My balls, toy.

Without hesitance the purple, minute dragon popped his muzzle back and licked his way reverently down towards the base of Shurush's pulsating spire. As he leaned far enough forwards, I was able to see that his own shaft had emerged from behind his loincloth, standing at full mast. Purely from servicing this slave-taking beast. How far gone was his mind? Yet perhaps, I reasoned as Shurush's paw massaged my skull, servicing the beast _was_pleasurable in some ways. Perhaps his scent was enticing on some primal level that the dragon responded to. I didn't know, for I hadn't tended Shurush yet.

As his snout reached Shurush's balls, Moxy slowly sank his nostrils into the enormous, leathery sack. If Shurush's balls were each the size of my head, they were each_bigger_ than this small dragon's one. He pressed his snout into Shurush's plush pouch and began to sniff slowly. His eyelids flickered open and I saw his pupils dilated, his eyes lolling in their sockets as though he were almost suffering from some esoteric drug. He began to slather the beast's soft pouch with his tongue, salivating and spit-shining it like it was a prized trophy and his tongue was a polishing cloth.

I vaguely recalled the sensations I had felt before, the crushing weight of Shurush's psychic presence. The joy I had felt at being offered his body's most intimate regions. The thoughtless arousal at his mere presence. With an uneasy feeling in my belly that was, admittedly, slowly lessening under the relaxing rubs of my head, I knew that Moxy would be experiencing a bliss like no other as he lavished our master.

Good pet. Just watch.

Much as the unwanted title made my feathers bristle, I was glad that watching was all Shurush had in mind.

Slowly, Moxy turned where he knelt, rolling onto his side with his snout still slurping and kissing at the beast's balls. He fell onto his back on the floor and began to nuzzle and tend Shurush's plush orbs that way, instead. His loincloth flipped up over his own belly, and I could see his jutting erection standing upright in the air for all to see, seemingly unbothered by it. I imagined that it was perhaps a common occurrence in Shurush's domain, so perhaps it wasn't something to be ashamed of. A strange wave of relaxation softly soothed the shame and revulsion I felt at the idea of someone being on display in such an open room, and I slowly found it lessening with each stroke of Shurush's paw to my head.

I felt the weight of Shurush's paw on my head momentarily increase as at last the Lord of the manor shifted his own weight, rising. His hindlegs swung around to touch the ground, and he elevated himself into a standing position, his great balls hanging down to rest on the purple dragon's snout. The other two servants stepped back to make room. I saw both Shurush and Moxy's shafts pulse in perfect unison, and a thick dollop of cloudy, patently animalistic fluids spilled from Shurush's length and onto Moxy's own and across his belly. I heard the drakelet groan out in ecstasy.

Moxy's groans were short-lived, though, for Shurush inched forwards - and promptly sat down.

Alarm rang through my head. Shurush surely weighed at least two hundred and fifty kilogrammes, and I feared for the unfortunate servant's life. However, Shurush's muscles bunched, and he seemed to keep the brunt of his weight off of the purple dragon - instead simply pinning the fellow beneath his broad, muscled backside.

Oh, the effect it had on the dragon.

The purple dragon's arms lifted and immediately hugged around Shurush's shaft. I heard a slurping noise and realised that his snout had to be pushed right up against Shurush's large, puckered ring. The beast's tongue hung from his beak-like snout and he began to pant before me. His paw kneaded more frequently at my skull, and I found the feelings growing heavier, slightly less pleasant, though still enjoyable.

It is so diligent... There is a reason this is my favourite toy, Shurush's praise filtered to my brain. His mental voice sounded pleasure-tinted. So potent was the debauchery happening inches from my prone form that I felt a vague stirring within my own loins, and felt my beak flush hot with embarrassment. How could I be _excited_by this? Yet I couldn't deny the slow, faint encroaching of my own desire beginning to throb within my sheath, plumping it out. I was grateful for my underwear to hide it... though part of me was beginning to think that there was no real point in hiding the inevitable.

Shurush began to slowly hump through the ring formed by Moxy's embracing arms, and each motion rocked both himself and the dragon. Moxy seemed painfully aroused, and soft pulses of clear fluid erupted from his much smaller tip every so often. Soon, Shurush was letting out heated grunts and huffs, squashing his tail down on Moxy's head so hard that I feared he would be swallowed up by our master's supple hole, and I realised that he must be approaching his climax.

All of a sudden, Moxy tensed up. I heard a muffled howling coming from beneath Shurush, and the purple dragon began pumping our Lord as swiftly as he could. I watched as, utterly untouched and unstimulated by anything than serving the now sweating, drooling beast atop him, Moxy began to spurt. His shaft pulsed proudly, spraying jets of whitish slime into the air and over his own belly. Some even splattered onto the undercarriage of Shurush's proud spire.

The sudden surge in attention seemed to be all that stood between Shurush and his own, primal eruption, and the beast let out a loud, triumphant trill of pleasure. I watched as his crown flared wider, those bulbous protrusions thickening into what would surely plug whatever he sank into, and then a gush of viscous slime began to pump forth onto the floor, onto Moxy, everywhere.

Shurush's paw pressed hard against my head, pinning it to the floor, and a wave of sympathetic pleasure washed over me. I felt my own sheath thicken and my beak opened in shaky pleasure. With every rope that cascaded from Shurush's shaft, I felt my own swell with another pulse, as though his pleasure were spilling through his psychic touch and into my own psyche. I let loose a strangled noise, and then felt a surge of fatigue pass through my body.

Best if you sleep, pet... I will not be done before the hour.

I felt my eyes growing heavy as Shurush rubbed at my head, his every word feeling somehow_pink_ in my mind, laced with barely contained bliss. I saw the other servants attending Shurush trembling, groins damp with what looked like barely contained need, if not sympathetic climax to their master's spilling. I felt my own gryphonic shaft throb to full hardness, tenting my pants shamefully. Then another wave of fatigue swept through me, and blackness claimed my thoughts.

* * *

That night, I was plagued by hazy dreams of strange beasts and pleasure and bizarre unmentionables; of purple dragons physically strapped to a Lordly monster's shaft and weighty sack, worn like a living ornament; of displays of bound and restrained creatures suffering indescribable and frightening enforced bliss. When again I woke, I found myself laying on a cluster of plush, lavish pillows, each one embroidered with gold thread, beside a large and empty nest of luxury. I had at some point been undressed, for I lay naked on the pile. Somehow, this didn't bother me as much as I felt it should have, particularly as two attendants dressed in servant's garb stood watching me by a large door. I felt only mildly uncomfortable with the fact that they could see my nakedness, and it struck me that I should have felt moreso - as laying there as I was, I was sporting an impressive case of morning wood they could plainly see.

It was morning, now. Evidently, I had been relocated to a space that looked like it may have been Lord Shurush's sleeping quarters. Vague recollections of my dreams were already fading, dissipating into the aether and taking with them half-remembered images of Lord Shurush standing over me, massaging my head still with his warm paw and whispering soft promises of delight into my brain. My proud gryphonhood pulsed in the air, and I shivered slightly.

I rolled onto my front - the cushions were intoxicating in their soft caress, and thanks to them even my stiff member was amenable to being slightly squashed under me. Giving a quiet grunt, I pushed onto all fours, then rose shakily to my paws.

Memories of the events of yesterday swam slowly through my mind. Of my capture by Beruthen and Vivalia - I was not sure how I knew her name suddenly, though I surmised it must have been a gift from Lord Shurush. I recalled the journey in the late afternoon to the manor, and my meeting with the Lord of the household - how I had mistaken him for a pet. Images of his kiss, laden with that strange, blue-tinged mist of what I now knew were spores flickered through my mind. I remembered the unsettling transmogrification of the lizard into a primeval monstrosity, feeling a shudder run down my spine. Away from the events and finally out of the thick of it, I had a feeling that - had I proven sufficiently untenable to Lord Shurush, I may have been suffering a similar fate. As it was, my memories broke off shortly after Moxy began to lavish and worship at the Lord's plump shaft.

As bizarre and unusual as the circumstances were, I felt a faint throb run through my maleness as I thought of the events. The eager bliss, and the enveloping pleasure that radiated out from both Moxy and Lord Shurush as the pair had finished... it was an intoxicating prospect. Yet as embarrassingly tantalising as I was beginning to find some of the aspects of the Lord's household, I very much did not desire to stay. I would have to find a way to escape.

Come, pet.

My whole body tensed, and I spun where I stood, nearly falling back into the pillows. My beak parted, and I looked to the servants. Was Lord Shurush here now? Yet, they said nothing. I realised that I would need to initiate.

"Is... Did you hear Lord Shurush?" I asked, hesitantly. One - a raven, by the looks of her, with quite the pretty feathers - gave a nod.

"You are wanted," she said. I could almost feel a note of envy in her voice.

"I... see. Where are my clothes?" I asked, looking around. My maleness was still jutting on display, and I felt mildly uncomfortable with such a dazzling looking hen being able to see me so readily. It wasn't as bad as I expected the feeling to be, however, and I quashed it. The raven, however, was swift to point to a small side table of carved and polished mahogany.

On the side table lay a simple, red and golden loincloth. I paused, feeling a momentary tugging at the back of my mind, as though something were slightly askance. Yet, as I walked over to inspect the garment, I could see nothing wrong with it. My loincloth lay untampered with - in fact, it looked practically brand-new. I hadn't seen it looking quite so resplendent in - I couldn't recall how long. How long had I owned my only piece of clothing?

Beneath the urgency of not incurring Lord Shurush's wrath, it seemed unimportant for the moment. It was pristine, and that was what mattered. It was a high quality garment, after all. It didn't even bear a rope to tie around one's waist, no--this was a modern cloth for a modern gryphon such as myself. It bore elegant, gilded clips on the side that would hold onto my fur itself.

I picked up the red and golden cloth and clipped it to my thighs. It only covered my front, leaving my elegant, leonine tail with its dark crown of tailfeathers its full range of movement. My arousal was still plain to see from the tent in the cloth, but it was passable enough for walking through the halls of Lord Shurush's manor.

I walked to the servants, then passed them by, stepping out into the maze of corridors. I frowned, looking first to the left, then to the right. I realised that I had no inkling of where I was being summoned. I couldn't even discern any indicators of what was which way - certainly, there were statuettes, carvings and reliefs that I felt looked familiar, but I wasn't certain that they were not merely figments of recollection brought about by the consistent motif the manor employed. Who was to say that I did, truly, recognise this surprisingly artful rendition of an insectile entity being pleasured by some spectacular plant-beast, and that it was not merely akin to another painting I had seen elsewhere?

Thankfully, before long a familiar presence turned a corner and strode swiftly towards me. Azure dress still cascading down from her slender form of alien proportion, Vivalia came to a stop in front of me. I felt her solid black eyes regarding me, inspecting me from head to toe. I couldn't fathom why, for I was precisely the same as I had been when we met the day prior.

"Good," she clucked. "Come with me. Lord Shurush has need of you."

"I know," I responded. Though compliance was not my first preference, it was ranked above the preference of meeting a fate similar to last night's lizard.

As Vivalia began to wend her way back through the lavish, lantern-lit corridors, I fell in step behind her. Seeing an opportunity, I tried to strike up conversation.

"Your name is... Vivalia?" I queried. She inclined her head to regard me, her expression curt.

"Yes," she answered in brevity. My feathers bristled, but I would not relent.

"How long have you been a part of Lord Shurush's household?" I asked.

"Nine years," she answered. We rounded a corner and came to some new sets of corridors that were lit by exterior windows. The glass was frosted, so I could not see beyond it, only knowing that daylight filtered in. It seemed surprisingly muted - as though the day beyond were overcast by the thickest of shadowy clouds, as though the city Lord Shurush's manor resided in were under the perpetual thumb of divine disfavour.

"Did Lord Shurush, er, kiss you?" I asked, finding myself at a loss as to how to politely phrase my query.

"If you mean, did Lord Shurush gift me with his breath of spores, then yes. Obviously," Vivalia said, her alien expression showing what I read as disdain. I realised that I was not likely to glean any real information from her - at least, not without much time, which was something I did not want to spend in this manor.

We completed our journey in silence, which ended when she led me to a double door that opened out into a garden.

"Follow the path to Lord Shurush," she told me. "Do not stray."

With that, she turned, then departed back into the depths of the manor. I turned to face the garden, feeling an oddly keen sense that I should well heed her words.

The path I stepped out onto was cobbled like the streets of the strange city, yet these cobblestones were finely crafted. Though we may not see eye-to-eye (a most inappropriate turn of phrase, I admit), Lord Shurush certainly had a taste for quality in architecture. However, beyond the smooth and evenly placed stones, the illusion of safety swiftly dissolved.

At first glance, I thought that I gazed upon regular plants as I had seen many times in my life, even if of odd hues. However, suspicious of the nature of Lord Shurush's furnishings, I deigned to look closer and was not disappointed.

A large and healthy-looking bush stood out among some of the more familiar plants I did recognise. This particular specimen of flora however possessed enormous, man-sized, vibrant red flowers that I had to admit looked remarkably lovely. A soft scent seemed to be emanating from them, and I felt a vague desire to draw closer. What caught my admittedly acute vision after some inspection were the closed buds, though. The buds were equally enormous, but unlike their open counterparts the buds slowly, occasionally twitched. Inside them were the vaguest hints of limbs. People, trapped in the buds which were slowly pulsing.

Another plant looked to be a large, bulbous pod with sprawling roots around it. Seeds, large as chicken eggs, were strewn around each one. It took me a moment to notice that the 'roots' of each one were decidedly person-shaped, with spread legs and upturned, floral buds where one would expect a beak or snout. Occasionally, a sap-covered seed would pop out of a leafy opening right where one would expect a person's shaft or vulva to be, and the roots would writhe ever so slightly.

On some of the trees, I saw slow-slithering clusters of the off-green slugs I had seen last night. I didn't know what ruinous pit Lord Shurush had cast the former lizard into, but I did not see him creeping across any trees. What I did occasionally see, now that I was looking, were people of various species - sometimes beasts as well, though for all I knew they may have begun their stay in Lord Shurush's manor as people - hanging from the trees in the embrace of winding vines, plantile sleeves threaded over their limbs or malenesses or thick tendrils invading any openings between their legs. They all wore dazed, slack-jawed and hypnotised expressions, and all of them occasionally spasmed as the plants worked their foul craft on them.

Everywhere I looked, people or creatures seemed to have been tangled up in some twisted, floral trap. Bushes, vines, shrubs and trees held dozens of living creatures - or else were plant-like resemblances of living creatures well enough to leave me feeling concerned about the end result of some of these captives.

I shuddered, deciding to keep firmly to the path, making my way forwards. Branches leaned towards me, and tendrils of plant matter seemed to occasionally undulate in the undergrowth like waiting beasts. I realised that the garden was actually much larger than I thought, and occasionally I saw what appeared to be dirt trails leading into the garden - well in reach of the numerous predatory flora. I wondered whether the paths were for gardeners, or whether Lord Shurush's 'shows' sometimes involved a hapless captive being dropped at the far end, left to attempt to escape the insidious garden while seeing which plant eventually snared them.

Thankfully, keeping to the cobbled path as I did, it was not long before I reached a patio of sorts. A round clearing, all paved with cobblestones, and two paths branching off from it - plus the third I had followed to reach it. Between each path around the edge of the round area was a stone sitting bench. A chess board had been set up in front of one of them. Did Lord Shurush know chess? The idea was starting to grow less surprising.

Lord Shurush sat in the middle of the stone area, his hinds parted to account for his heavy, magnificent balls and plush sheath, and I slowly approached. His crested head was turned to face me, his blue-tipped stalks waving slowly through the air.

Good, his voice rang in my mind.

"Good?" I asked.

Nothing you need worry about, pet. You forget yourself, however.

A flash of recognition passed through my mind - one that well could have been sparked by Lord Shurush himself, though it was hard to say.

"Good, Lord?" I said, my tail twitching slightly. I did not wish to anger the beast, after all.

Lord Shurush's beak-like snout parted in what might have been a beastly smile, but he gave no further word. Nor did he need to, I soon found out, for not a minute later I heard the soft padding of heavy footfalls. Or paws, truthfully.

A creature just like Lord Shurush strolled down one of the other pathways towards us.

I blinked, sucking a sharp intake of floral air through my nares at this sight. Another of whatever Lord Shurush's kind was called was here. Why? Did it live here? Perhaps it was related somehow to Lord Shurush? I felt a knot bloom in my stomach.

The creature entered the stone area, flanked by two attendants who wore all red. Their faces looked weary and strained, and their demeanour was subdued.

Ihalahi , Lord Shurush's mental voice rang in my head, and presumably everyone elses'. He rose to all fours to stand before the visitor.

Shurush. Ihalahi's voice was softer in my head, almost muted, as though the sound of a gramophone played in the next room over.

The other beast approached Lord Shurush, a soft churring croon in its puffy, sac-wreathed throat. I examined this 'Ihalahi' from my position to the side.

Ihalahi was smaller than Lord Shurush, but not by much. The beast had a smaller crest on its head, and wider hips. There was an almost dainty curve to its body where Lord Shurush had powerful sturdiness. Where Lord Shurush kept his twin-tipped tail down, helping to push forwards his puffy sheath and hanging spheres, this creature kept its tail ever so slightly elevated. It afforded me an easy view of her own intimate regions.

The female counterpart of Lord Shurush's species seemed to have a thick, triangular nether region that struck me as repulsively bestial. It glistened in what surely was arousal, even on such an unpleasant creature. Little, minute tendrilous nubs seemed to line the spaded rim of Ihalahi's entrance, wriggling mildly in some wicked, off-putting manner.

I felt a strange divide. She was clearly of the same species as Lord Shurush, yet where her appearance perturbed and repulsed me, Lord Shurush's had come to be less distasteful. I had somehow grown more used to him and his blue-tipped stalks that curved forth from his crested head and found it not too unpleasant, much like how I felt one might come to consider an exotic pet. I felt none of that towards Ihalahi, however, who looked purely unsettling and predatory. I did not desire to be anywhere near her reach.

You have come to petition me again? Lord Shurush's mind rang. Ihalahi's head cocked slightly, her beak-like snout parting.

Shurush, Ihalahi's muted voice dripped in return. I have merely come to offer the most worthy my greatest opportunity.

Is that how you view it? Lord Shurush's thoughts rolled. I could feel a subtle wave of discomfort in his thoughts. I have no need for such indulgences, Ihalahi.

At this, I saw Ihalahi begin to prowl forwards. Padding up to Lord Shurush on all fours, she brushed her hide against his own where he sat. She began to circle around him, her flank just lightly touching him as she did.

Indulgences? Shurush, life lives and dies to breed. It is the only inevitable besides death. Ihalahi tilted her crested head to Lord Shurush, and I saw her lightly rub the puffy pouch of spores that rimmed her neck against Lord Shurush's own. Lord Shurush gave a subtle shiver that I did not miss, and I could see his sheath had plumped noticeably as he sat there. The bluish crown of his heavy maleness had emerged from his plush sheath and was plain to all present.

Though I hardly desired to regardless, I _felt_Lord Shurush's will not to interrupt this process.

Perhaps it is inevitable for some members of our kind, Lord Shurush's thoughts radiated. I do not desire spawn.

I could see Ihalahi bristle at this, her body tensing momentarily. She huffed, a breath of air snorting from her nostrils loudly enough for me to hear. Lord Shurush's counterpart rubbed her way forth around his body, lifting her tail higher as she did. It curved upwards to brush its twinned tip over his snout, putting her bestial sex mere centimetres from his own nostrils. She held herself there, her sensory stalks curling as I watched Lord Shurush's nostrils flare.

Before my eyes, Lord Shurush's arousal began to grow, to swell out from his sheath. Centimetre by centimetre that plump, beastly shaft pulsed into view between Lord Shurush's forelegs until it throbbed free in its entirety. What looked like nearly a metre of girthy, rigid maleness bent downwards under its own weight.

That's a better state for you, Shurush. Oh, but you look so magnificent, Ihalahi's voice sang. Lord Shurush huffed an inhalation of air tainted by Ihalahi's now dripping vulva. Was the beast in heat? It seemed to make a great deal of sense to my disturbed mind. Ihalahi stalked slowly away from Lord Shurush then, coming to a stop a few paces away. Her tail was ever so slightly lifted, and she 'looked' into the garden away from the Lord of the manor. Perhaps we might help each other with our mutual conditions?

Lord Shurush, however, did not rise. He did not seem to react to the radiating waves of smug certainty that emanated from the other beast. I was not sure how he would react as he sat there, his arousal clearly beginning to drool beads of translucent slime. After a few long moments during which Ihalahi merely stood there, waiting, he again radiated his thoughts.

I do not need your assistance with my needs, Ihalahi. I have servants for such matters.

The female did not turn, though I expected her to. I had to remind myself that for all their awareness and obvious intelligence, these creatures had no eyes, so there was little point to turning to 'look'.

Shurush, servants will never be enough, Ihalahi's voice rang, sounding patronisingly disappointed, more than anything.

Yes, you said last season, Ihalahi, and the one before that. A pliable toy cannot truly fill one's needs.

They can't, Ihalahi crooned. Will-broken sleeves cannot be coy. They cannot let your craving build, only to bring you to drooling later when they submit, because they will submit without hesitation. They cannot surprise you, for they want only what you want. Must you insist on this charade that mere toys can match the needs of such a virile male as yourself?

Lord Shurush tilted his head vaguely, angling it in my direction. Suddenly pieces began to click into place, an understanding of why Lord Shurush had summoned me when he was mere minutes from a meeting of such a nature.

I felt my stomach knot itself up.

That is why I have collected something that is not merely a toy, Lord Shurush's voice rumbled. An experiment. A thrall that I've left its will, so that it might deny or surprise me, just as you so predictably insist.

Me.

Being referred to as an 'it' felt mildly offensive, but Lord Shurush's radiating imperative to not interrupt forced my beak to still. His comments however made Ihalahi turn. She rotated on all fours, coming to face Lord Shurush. I could feel her emotions radiating off from her - abrupt irritation. Her posture changed, and I saw her crested head turn towards me.

This? she asked. She stalked forwards, this time towards me.

A radiating sense of urgency sparked in my brain, and I knew that letting her approach would be a very fatal mistake. Fear swamped my heart and sped it to a racing pulse as I noticed her razor claws, her sharp beak, and her rippling musculature. Smaller than Lord Shurush, she could still rend me limb from limb.

I ran.

Six quick steps, my paws thudding on the cobblestones, I came to a stop beside Lord Shurush, putting him between myself and Ihalahi. His telepathic warning still rattled about my brain, now calmed by a sensation of safety by having him to stop anything Ihalahi might try. Her jaws parted and a sonorous growl rippled out from her throat.

This. It is my... pet. A project based on your so insistent recommendations. Observe. Pet, present yourself to me - I wish to breed you.

My still-thundering heart lurched again. I thought that certainly he could not be serious, yet I could feel it from his intention. If I were to position myself as Ihalahi had, on all fours like some female beast, then he would. Right in front of Ihalahi, he would relieve himself of his urges. With a maleness near as long as my torso. The worst of it was, I did feel the tug. The compulsion, an itch at the back of my brain to do as Lord Shurush desired. I could feel myself_wanting_ him to breed me like - like some bitch in heat, and I shamefully felt my own sheath begin to stir.

"I--"

You see, it does not submit. It hesitates. It even contemplates running, not yet aware that it can't. Your regular insistence upon what I require has been addressed, Ihalahi, and I do thank you for your suggestion. In a month's time I shall have my servants compose a letter informing you of the accuracy of your assessment, if it pleases you.

Ihalahi growled. She stalked up to Lord Shurush, coming snout to snout with him. His tail curled around my feet where I stood beside him.

Have you a problem, Ihalahi? Lord Shurush asked. I thought you would be glad, for I have taken your considerations quite seriously. This way, I can address my needs to your satisfaction without compromising my own desire to avoid spawn.

Ihalahi bristled. I could see her nostrils flare. Then she let out a lungful of heated, fetid breath.

Your toys - whatever you call them - will not satisfy you forever, Shurush.

Lord Shurush's sensory stalks curled faintly.

I think they might, Ihalahi. After all, I very rarely kill mine - such an act would, indeed, ensure they could not satisfy me forever, would it not? That is why I take great pains to ensure they are subject only to my desires toward them.

Ihalahi sneered, and her tail suddenly whipped_through the air. One of her two attendants suddenly yelped. As I glanced to the source I saw--to my horror, the unfortunate soul's _arm had been shattered by the impact, a shard of bone jutting through the servant's flesh.

Good day, Shurush. Perhaps you shall make wiser decisions at next meeting.

With that, Ihalahi turned, then began to menace her way back down the path she had come from. I watched as her servants, including the one cradling a now broken and bleeding arm, followed swiftly after her at some mental command. My heart did not begin to calm one beat until she had vanished around a flora-covered corner.

I somehow felt more at ease, alone with the beast that was Lord Shurush. I felt his sightless gaze fall upon me.

You have questions, Lord Shurush's thoughts came. It was not a query. I drew in a deep breath.

"Would she have killed me, had I not moved?" I found myself asking.

Of course, Lord Shurush's thoughts rumbled. She sees you merely as an obstacle.

"Because... you intend to use me for your pleasure, instead of her."

Yes. Long has she petitioned me to breed with her - every season these past few decades. Each time she brings a new reason why she and only she may satisfy my needs.

"I'm only still myself because of her, aren't I?"

Yes. Let us walk.

Lord Shurush rose, then began to stroll back down the path that I had come from. His heavy shaft hung still between his legs, swaying gently back and forth as he walked. I tried not to look, but found my eyes gradually returning to its pendulous swing that was renewed with each of Lord Shurush's steps.

"Could she do that?" I found myself asking. I felt rattled.

Kill you? It would have provoked a feud.

"Why would she have done it then?"

She is tempestuous. We all have our peculiarities. Hers is violence; she delights in exploring the way others can feel pain and anguish. She bears no hesitation to inflict severe pain or disfigurement.

I found myself shuddering as we walked down the garden path. Even Lord Shurush, I noted, was careful not to stray too close to the edge of the cobbled pathway. I regarded him hesitantly.

"...Are you the same, Lord?" I asked.

No. I am fascinated by different aspects. Not unrelated, however, which is one reason she so insists upon mating with me in particular.

I frowned, pressing my beak together as we rounded a bend. Lord Shurush appeared to be aware of my inquisitiveness, for he continued.

I find pleasure most intriguing. Especially unwanted pleasure, delights that are feared or hated. There is an exquisite rush in the feelings and reactions of someone succumbing to bliss that they started out so against.

"Like... the slugs," I found myself muttering.

That toy was abjectly disgusted by them when it first saw them. The way its feelings changed as they infested it were ... A churring, lusty growl came from Lord Shurush's beak-like jaws. ... delectable. I saw his swaying shaft throb between his hindlegs.

"But surely, once someone succumbs, there's no fun in them anymore - you could let them go."

Oh? I should release the slug-sac into the wild, without a colony to serve?

I lamented the fact of the matter, but transformed as he was, I had to agree that perhaps releasing the lizard was not a feasible resolution any longer.

We came to the exit to the garden, passing by a pulsating floral bulb with a pair of legs and leonine hindquarters sticking out. A floral vine had embedded itself beneath the half-swallowed creature's tail, stretching his anus around it. His shaft had been swallowed up by a vine as well, and his hanging balls had ballooned to the size of footballs, each one looking as though filled with marbles. He twitched now and then as his plant-sleeved shaft throbbed, and I found myself wondering how many weeks he had been kept erect for in his trap. Little sprouts had erupted from his fur as though he were becoming part plant himself, and I shuddered to realise that the unfortunate soul could well be a gryphon just like myself. How easily our positions could have been reversed.

The four-armed servant met us at the entrance and bowed to Lord Shurush, before swiftly moving to open the door.

Lord Shurush, for all his supremacy over the household, seemed to be defeated by doorknobs.

The servant let us both pass through, then closed the door behind us. It moved to follow along obediently, presumably to act as Lord Shurush's hands when he needed them.

"Maybe not that fellow, but what of the ones that are like me? Still people?"

There are none like you.

"Vivalia?"

She is servile as any other.

"As servile as Moxy, Lord?"

Indeed, but in different ways, pet. The ones who can, I keep as servants. The ones too changed join my exhibits and menagerie.

"There! The servants. Why not let them go?" I asked, suddenly feeling as though I had struck upon a key point. "If they now are... agreeable to your wants, then surely they are no longer entertaining?"

Of course I enjoy them, pet. Just because one is not eating their favourite meal does not mean they are not thoroughly delighting in the food. I need compliant servants to maintain my household, pet, not merely ones who rail against their situation. Besides, they would not survive.

"Why not?" I asked, yet suddenly my throat felt very dry.

My spores. Lord Shurush blew out a huff of air, his puffy throat-sac contracting a little, a cloud of faint blue spilling into the air. You heard Ihalahi's words, yes?

"Yes," I confirmed hesitantly. "Though she felt... harder to hear."

It is because my spores have taken root inside you. They let you understand my wishes, and they also let you hear my kind. More, pet, they attune you to all things psychic and weird.

I felt my tail flick behind me hesitantly, and I tightened my wings where they rested against my back. We turned a corner and encountered a door, and again Lord Shurush's servant moved forward to make way for our Lord.

"I don't understand," I said.

My spores draw strength from my psychic presence. They feast on it. Should I not be present, they will grow hungry and feast on their host's psychic presence. But they are also attuned to me, so they will never be satisfied with their host, pet. They will continue to feed as you grow weak and infirm. They will slowly consume your quintessence until you shall die.

I fell silent, feeling the lump in my throat grow heavy. There it was. If Lord Shurush was truthful, then unless - until - I could find some way to rid myself of his influence, I could not leave.

My kind call it bonding a thrall for once done, you are bound to me for life.

"How... many do you have?" I asked slowly as we finally came to the double doors that led into Lord Shurush's personal chambers. The servant moved to open the door for Lord Shurush again, and the regal beast padded inwards to the pillow-laden interior.

Lord Shurush strode across the room, then turned and sat. I noticed that his strangely large doughnut was distended the way a horse's was so much so that it kissed the ground a moment before his flank, and then he was seated facing me. He wanted me closer, I knew, and I hesitantly approached, coming to a stop before the four-legged ruler.

Why do you persist with asking questions you fear the answer to? I felt like a small smile played across the beast's beak-like snout. You are repulsed by the knowledge, pet. It is such a delightful taste upon your mind, one I do enjoy. I wonder however, how long it will be before you begin to enjoy the answers instead. Still, how many? Hundreds, perhaps approaching a thousand. Only forty-three servants, however. The bulk now serve as the creatures, plants, exhibits - and some even objects within the manor. You may have seen the statuettes of myself in my bathing room. Each was once a toy I let my master fleshsculptor work upon. Now on your knees, pet, I desire your service.

I looked down to Lord Shurush's plump, metre-long bestial breeder and felt slightly faint.

"Lord Shurush, are..."

Consider that you have yet to prove yourself to be the ideal fit for your role, pet. What shall your next words be?

"...a-are you... still aroused?" I asked, swallowing back the objections I had been close to raising. Lord Shurush had told me that so long as I gave my best effort, he would be satisfied. I was loathe to admit it, but I could not deny that I had not yet given my best effort in anyone's view.

I took in the scent of Ihalahi's heat, pet. Without attention, I will not soften for hours now.

Slowly then, I sank to my knees. I was thankful for the pillows beneath me as I lowered myself beneath Lord Shurush's spore-sac. I lowered my eyes down his powerful, quadrupedal form to his stomach... then yet lower.

For the second time in as many days, I was beak-to-proverbial-beak with Lord Shurush's jutting, bestial spire. I watched as the triangular, fleshy crown glistened with his viscous slime. I could practically feel the heat radiating from its thick, nauseating girth, my eyes drawn down its length to the backwards-angled ridging along the topside. I looked upwards to find Lord Shurush regarding me.

Go on, pet. Begin with a lick.

I swallowed, knowing that I would have to at least do that. I had done so yesterday. I closed my eyes and shakily parted my beak.

Here. I shall help you , I heard his voice sound out in my mind. Before I could say anything, I felt his paw against the back of my head. A soft pressure against the back of my skull urged me forwards, and while at first it alarmed me, I quickly realised that it felt quite nice. Lord Shurush was undulating his claws, gently kneading at my skull between my fuzzy ears even as he gently pressed me forth.

My tongue slipped from my beak as eased its way forwards. Immediately, I felt the salty taste of Lord Shurush's crown against my tastebuds. For a moment it tasted mildly unpleasant but, as I let the flavour soak across my tongue I realised it had a peculiar, almost enticing tang to it. If anything, it had a quirk to its flavour not unlike the one I so enjoyed in my favourite food.

Shamefully, I realised that I wouldn't mind tasting more of the curious fluid. So I did.

I lapped my tongue across Lord Shurush's crown, licking up the dripping effluvia that spilled from his urethra. I felt Lord Shurush's paw massaging my skull still and found myself relaxing. Perhaps, if I were compliant, this would not be so hard.

I will use your beak, pet. How does this make you feel?

I felt a pang of alarm flow through my mind at that statement. Lord Shurush would not stop at my tongue, today. Yet, even as the alarm struck, I felt it quickly melting away. It was a taste I didn't mind so much. Why should this concern me? In fact, somehow... I felt my own sheath stir at the notion. I swallowed and kept my eyes closed.

I pushed my tongue out from my beak further, letting it slide against the flat of Lord Shurush's puffy crown until my pointed tonguetip found his urethra. A notion struck my brain, and I acted on impulse. I parted my beak a little wider and pushed with my tongue, threading the thin, oral appendage into Lord Shurush's animalistic shaft, feeling the strangely unpleasant-yet-alluring tang of his fluids bathe my tongue from all directions.

This earned a throb from the beast's shaft that made the whole thing lurch forwards and squash into my beak before I could even realise my error.

I thought about biting down but found that the idea was not one I fancied. I didn't like my situation and could hardly say I wanted to pleasure him, but I didn't want to hurt the regal beast before me either.

Yet, my desires didn't matter as much as Lord Shurush's, and with a subtle push from his paw I felt myself sliding forwards, taking his feral shaft into my beak. I twitched my tongue within his urethra and heard him trill in enjoyment.

Good pet, I heard his praise, his paw massaging my head all the more gently. Somehow, his words stirred my own sheath, and I felt my hidden shaft begin to harden behind my gilded loincloth.

A wet splatter of fluid erupted from his crown and sprayed across my tongue, and my eyes flicked open in surprise. I gulped reflexively, then closed them again when I saw how many countless centimetres of flesh I had yet to swallow.

Feeling strangely relaxed beneath his calming head-rubs, I swallowed my master deeper. I felt silken fabric brush against the tip of my own maleness and realised that it was now peeking out from my furred sheath. His flesh rubbed against my tongue and I began to lick at him. If I had lips like Moxy, I might even have tried to suckle on him, but as it was I could not. I would just have to worship my bestial Lord with my tongue all the more to make up for my shortcomings.

Shortcomings? I found myself thinking, with a strange sense of haziness to it. I swallowed, feeling Lord Shurush's tangy slime wash warmly down my throat, then began to draw back. He made no effort to stop me. As his flared crown popped out of my beak, my tongue escaped his urethra. I sucked a deep breath of musk-tinted air through my nares and opened my eyes again.

I realised the air around me was tinted blue.

I looked up and found Lord Shurush breathing out puffs of spores around my head and his cock, which I was inhaling with every breath.

"Wh..at are you doing, Lord?" I asked, feeling strangely warm.

Tell me, pet, why do you hesitate to pleasure me?

I looked back to Lord Shurush's plump, pulsing crown and found that it looked surprisingly enticing. Was I truly growing so aroused that a beast like Lord Shurush could rile my own lusts?

"I..."

Be truthful, pet.

The silent, bell-like pressure of a command weighed down on me, and I knew I must.

"I... find the thought of pleasuring an animal unpalatable, Lord," I uttered, feeling a flush of shame tint my beak red.

And what, pet, did Ihalahi say about denying me?

I cast my thoughts back to the violent, wilful beast and let my eyes dip back to Lord Shurush's maleness.

"That it should be ... coy."

Yes. You should only hesitate or deny me in order to bring greater pleasures, pet. I must correct some of your urges so that they enhance, rather than hinder, your service.

My shaft throbbed traitorously in my sheath as that sank in. He was altering my thoughts? Suddenly the soft waves of relaxation seemed to make sense.

"You said I would remain myself," I panted.

Lord Shurush simply pressed against the back of my head with his paw, breathing out another puff of spores from his throat sac. I inhaled them deeply as I took my Lord's cock back into my beak and cooperatively began to wrap my tongue around his plump, pulsing spire.

And you shall, pet. I am merely changing your lusts and reservations to be more suitable. Relax. By the time I grow close to erupting in your beak, you will hunger for me to do so. Already I can smell your growing lust as I detail my actions. How I am altering you. Is that my influence, you must wonder, or your own native predilection? Mmh... But your tongue feels good. Then again, perhaps it no longer even matters what is native, and what is my gift, hmm?

I found myself panting as Lord Shurush spoke into my mind. I could feel his paw massaging my head, kneading out my worries with every stroke. With each heady suck of air, I felt more of my Lord's spores filtering into my lungs, taking root, deepening our connection.

I swallowed Lord Shurush's cock deeper into my beak than I had before. I wasn't sure if he was urging me, or if I was instigating. I could feel it slide slowly over my tongue either way, filling my jaws as Lord Shurush rewarded me with splatters of precum. I felt so.... vulgar. I felt so aroused.

Lord Shurush let out a trill of pleasure and I felt his shaft throb in my mouth. I was fully erect now, my loincloth tented over my own gryphonic shaft. My tail flicked back and forth, and I opened my eyes. Lord Shurush was nearly to the back of my throat now. As a gryphon and part avian, I had a natural skill in swallowing things larger than I rightly ought to, but I knew I would struggle mightily to make it even a third of the way down my Lord's plump spire.

I was being changed. I could feel it with every gentle massage of my skull. With every breath of blue, psychic spores, Lord Shurush was helping me to lose my hesitance, to lose the reservations that so prevented me from serving him. I tried to find something to hold on to, to remember what it was that I was, but every time I looked it seemed as though I had always been this way.

I recalled being repulsed by Lord Shurush's majestic spire and plump, enticing sheath, but I could not recall why - it seemed silly, now. I thought about the things I disliked of my master as I licked at his cock, feeling it pulse in my beak again and making my head jolt. I lifted my talons and gently wrapped them around his spire to help stabilise him.

I disliked... the way he referred to me as an 'it' and his pet.

Or did I? In truth, it actually aroused me. I was at full mast now, my shaft pulsing under my loincloth just from servicing Lord Shurush, and the way that he referred to me so casually and demeaningly - it was thrilling in a strange way. Not done for any reason of degradation, but merely because my fellow servants were so far beneath this majestic creature that gender was not a concern to him.

Perhaps, I thought, thinking back to Moxy, it was in fact because he enjoyed changing his servants from time to time and it was easier to use it than try to recall what we all were.

No, I enjoyed the way Lord Shurush referred to me - he had never even asked my name. I was simply looking for something to pretend I disliked.

After all, he wouldn't have taken a pet too dissimilar from his own tastes.

With a low groan, I pushed my beak forwards and swallowed Lord Shurush's shaft, content to let him work at my psyche. Anything he changed would be for my own good. I began to stroke his cock down the length I could not worship with my tongue - it was why I had brought my talons up in the first place.

Minutes trickled away as I slurped at my beastly owner's length, gulping down whatever spurts or jets of slime erupted from his magnificent crown. I ran my digits along his spire, feeling the thick, feral veins and the backwards-angled ridging, teasing it as best I could. I could hear his tail twitching behind him, occasionally thumping against a pillow. Whenever I opened my eyes, I found them drawn to his plump, heavy balls, each one the size of my own head. I was excited to find out their taste.

Good pet. You are doing well. I am-- Lord Shurush let out a panting huff of air that filled me with a blooming satisfaction at my performance - close. Are you excited?

I gave a muffled grunt. I hated to admit it so readily, but I was. I felt like I was growing close myself. I remembered the way it had felt yesterday, to be so close to Lord Shurush as he erupted. What would happen if I were the one servicing him when he peaked?

I swiftly found out.

With a push, Lord Shurush squashed my head down onto his spire and I felt his plump, triangular crown kiss the back of my throat. I gave a choked gasp that was swiftly silenced by his fat spire, and then I felt it. A wave of pleasure that struck Lord Shurush's body. He let out a primal trill that only a snout of his shape could make. Though he could not form words, the noises of bliss that slipped through his snout were intoxicating. His cock started to pulse wildly, rapidly, and as it did I felt surges of bliss start to pump through my own body.

I wanted him. I needed him. I couldn't resist. Pleasure wracked my body in psychic waves as I felt the first thick, gelatinous gush_of semen that flooded my beak. My muscles tensed, my balls drew tight, and I felt the spasms of orgasm flood me with carnal _bliss. My own spire began to pulse wildly in perfect rhythm with Lord Shurush's and I nearly whited out.

I couldn't stop myself. I began to drink. I swallowed, I gulped, I noisily imbibed my Lord's viscous slime as he erupted in my beak. And still with every erupting jet from the magnificent master of the house, my own spire erupted and spilled thick gouts of white seed. I felt myself painting my loincloth as Lord Shurush filled my gullet, both our balls pulled tight.

His every jet filled my beak with more than my entire orgasm. His seed swamped my beak and though I drank as much as I could, still so much more flooded out and spilled over the sides. It gushed down my front, between my thighs, and splattered onto the other side of my loincloth. As I climaxed from my master's psychic pleasure, I felt his yellowish slime mixing with my own. I adored it.

His orgasm lasted for what felt like minutes, his plump spire unloading jet after jet of slime into my throat, filling my stomach. By the time it tapered off to a trickle, I felt almost full from how much I'd partaken in.

Over the course of his climax, my own shaft had spent itself, softened slightly, and then surged back to full attention - and even close to another climax - from the sympathetic bliss that Lord Shurush radiated into my brain.

By the time we were both done, I felt somehow _weary_and, as he withdrew his member from my beak, he urged my head down to the pillows.

Well done, pet. Very well done. But now you must rest.

"But... it's only... morning," I weakly protested. I felt a twinge of approval from Lord Shurush at my protestation and felt a little wave of happiness.

It is. But there are some parts of you I may only work while you rest.

A primal concern welled up in my chest at that, but I suppressed it. I knew there was an inevitability to Lord Shurush's words, and that whatever he was to do, however it unnerved me, I would enjoy it.

Part of me wondered if I would have felt the same way when first I arrived at the old manor, but I decided it was not worth fretting over.

Sleep, pet.

So I did.

* * *

I awoke to the feeling of plush pillows all around me once again. Blearily, I lifted my talons to rub the sleep from my eyes, then slowly sat up. Once again, my cock stood at stiff attention, my loincloth vanished from my front. I saw two of my fellow servants watching me from the door, with Lord Shurush again gone.

My belly still felt a little swollen by the amount of my master's cum I had swallowed, and I shuddered at the thought. I let one talon trail down my belly to give my own jutting dick a small squeeze, not caring of the watching eyes of the other servants.

Just because they weren't allowed to enjoy themselves didn't mean that I wasn't. Being Lord Shurush's personal pet had some luxuries it afforded. Of course, I couldn't finish without his permission, but there was nothing to stop me from enjoying myself for a few minutes before I resumed the day.

I tilted my head back and relaxed into the pillows, letting my talon start to slowly stroke myself up and down. I spread my legs, placed my paws upon the pillows and pushed my hips ever so slightly up into the air, leaving myself on display for the servants. Let them be envious.

For several minutes I halfway lay there, enjoying myself as I thought back through events of earlier today and yesterday. Despite my rest, I still felt fatigued, as though I had not recharged at all from my time unconscious. Perhaps Lord Shurush's touch interfered with my recuperating as he helped me acclimatise.

I was grateful, though. I couldn't identify precisely what was different, but I felt that some things about me had definitely changed. I wasn't even sure if the reason I couldn't tell was because the changes were so subtle, or because Lord Shurush deigned me not to notice.

I thought about the way the plump slugs had infested the lizard, crawling into his every orifice as he writhed and struggled. I thought about the gryphon trapped in the flowerbud, being slowly penetrated by the plant as it filled his balls with seeds of some sort. I imagined myself in his place - a fully reversible fate in my fantasy, of course - Lord Shurush would not lose his only pet for more than a day or two.

As I began to pump my talon up and down my jutting, pink spire, I parted my beak in a lazy expression of enjoyment. I felt down to the lobes of my unswollen knot, giving it a squeeze and showing off my proud length to the servants.

Bathe, and then attend me, pet.

I heard the voice of Lord Shurush echo through my thoughts, scattering the fantasy that had been circulating. Images of crawling invertebrates pushing their way into my sheath as I lay trapped beneath my master's plump balls vanished as I realised that the day had resumed.

While I could delay, ignoring Lord Shurush would not be fun so much as displeasing.

I rose, then sought out my loincloth. It had vanished during my slumber, but I found a replacement on an elegant table with provocative carvings of alien creatures in delightfully perverse predicaments, large genitals in unkind contraptions the focus of each. I took a moment to admire them as I donned my replacement loincloth, then turned and departed Lord Shurush's chambers.

Beruthen met me at the door and led me to Lord Shurush's bathing chambers. I briefly wondered what Lord Shurush had put _him_through when he first came to the manor, before the gargoyle became a dedicated servant. I did not ask though, instead opting to simply enter and bathe.

I found myself enjoying the bath much more than I recalled doing the day before. I washed thoroughly and scrubbed my fur and feathers with the oils that exquisite statuettes of Lord Shurush proffered. I took perhaps a minute or two longer than I should have to admire the masterful stone castings, wondering at how they were made. Lord Shurush had mentioned a... flesh-sculptor? Were these, in fact, servants of some immobilised nature? As I rinsed my wings beneath the water, I confess that I took the time to stroke my talons along one's jutting, proud shaft. It was so lifelike that I almost felt that the permanently-erect stone length was quivering beneath my teasing caress.

Once I was sufficiently clean, I dried and redressed in my loincloth. I left with Beruthen and made my way to the main ballroom where I had first met our Lord.

As I entered, Beruthen stayed at the door at Lord Shurush's unspoken bidding. I could see that our regal master was lounging in the same position in which I had first met him. Moxy was crouched beside him, reverently fanning his flank while the same two servants stood in similar positions to yesterday. The grey was a reptile similar to Moxy, though lacking wings - his hide grey and plain, while the other was a strange insectile creature with four arms and bony mandibles, the same that had opened the doors for us yesterday after the garden. Like with Vivalia, I somehow _knew_their names - Dai and Sal. Dai stood with a bowl of some food that our master ate, while Sal slowly attended his body by scrubbing it with a damp, steaming cloth, at present working over his pristine, distended rump.

Approach, pet , I heard Lord Shurush command. I strode forwards, finding my eyes drawn to Lord Shurush's plush, puffy sheath. Though I had softened by now, I felt my cock once again stirring beneath my loincloth. When I reached the proud beast, I bowed my head ever so slightly, as I could feel was appropriate. My heart was oddly racing. How do you feel?

How did I feel?

"...Good," I decided. I heard a pleased trilling emanate from Lord Shurush's chest.

You may kiss my sheath, pet.

A shiver ran down my spine, all the way to make the tip of my tail twitch behind me. Yes. I had been reluctant at first. I had been uneasy. This was Lord Shurush's test of my progress. I licked my beak, then stepped slightly further forwards. I felt the gaze of the other three tending our Lord's body as I knelt near to Moxy. I could see envy in his eyes, though they were not harsh. Both of us knew a truth by now: we would both feel the touch of our master soon, but he still felt the rush of envy at what I was about to earn.

I dropped to all fours and crept forwards beneath Lord Shurush's broad chest, bringing my beak close to his puffy sheath. He was unaroused at the moment. I could hear his breathing as he occasionally leaned down and blew a cloud of psychic spores over Moxy's head or into Sal's face, both of them obediently huffing the source of our master's control.

I pressed my beak to the puffy cleft of Lord Shurush's feral sheath, squashing the tip of my beak against it as though trying to seek gentle entrance inside. I nuzzled at it and inhaled the thick, bestial scent of Lord Shurush, feeling his musk fill my nares. I parted my beak and let my tongue flick out to lick across the soft pouch that housed his cock, imagining it swelling to hardness and pushing into me. The thought of pleasuring him made my own cock start to push free again, and with a glance I spied Moxy noticing my arousal. It sent a little thrill through my chest to know that he could see my pleasure.

I softly kissed Lord Shurush's sheath again, and then again, using my tongue to gently tease the opening of his shaft's soft home. I could hear the occasional squelch or clatter of one of Lord Shurush's captive exhibits from around the room as unspeakably devious things befell lucky prisoners. While I had no desire to wind up one of them, the noises that sounded out were undeniably enticing, and I lowered one talon to gently grip the bulge in my loincloth. I crooned out into Lord Shurush's sheath from the touch - a noise that only grew in volume when I felt his sheath start to part to let his broad, bluish cock start to squash out. I gently took the tip into my beak and let him rest it there, licking at the oily crown.

Good... very good. Now another challenge. I have drunk much today and wish to relieve myself. Be a good pet and drink up, I heard his voice resonate. My eyes widened. While I did not wish to disappoint Lord Shurush, the thought of such an act immediately made my stomach turn. If he ordered it I would do my best, but I felt no weight of a command behind his directive. I spluttered and pulled back, my beak popping off from his crown.

As I sat back, I felt a flush of shame wash over me.

"I... apologise, my Lord," I uttered, looking down. "I do not think such a thing would... agree with me."

Excellent. A delighted, rumbling trill issued forth from the beast, and I looked up at my master. His beak-like snout was parted and he was regarding me, his stalks curling inquisitively. How aroused you are, yet you deny me. What an intriguing feeling. Ihalahi will have no argument, now.

"...This was a test?" I queried, licking my beak.

Yes and no. I do need to relieve myself. Toy, Lord Shurush's voice resonated. The purple drake fanning Lord Shurush sprung to attention and slid between Lord Shurush's hindlegs, his snout pushing right up to the beast's crown without hesitation. My two companion servants watched as Moxy began to suckle at Lord Shurush's peeking crown like a calf nursing a teat, his eyes closing in blissful submission. Then, Lord Shurush's jaws opened in an expression of _enjoyment_and his tongue lolled ever so slightly out.

A purr echoed from his bestial chest, and I heard Moxy begin to gulp. Rhythmic, heavy swallows filled the chamber as Moxy drank of our master's gift, his small, ice-blue belly beginning to swiftly bloat. I was still unsure of how I felt, but watching Lord Shurush's favourite toy drink so eagerly... It made me almost wish I had not pulled away.

I could see dribbles of yellowy fluid start to drip down from Moxy's snout as he gulped, the little drakelet physically incapable of keeping up with our master's reserves, and the pungent, acrid scent of feral urine crept into the air. I reneged on my feelings - no, I did not want to drink of our master's fluids whatsoever. The thought made me almost gag.

Yet Moxy revelled in it. His belly swelled out and I could see that already he was fully aroused, his scaled lips working over and slurping at Lord Shurush's cock in a way my beak never could. He was having to move his head slowly further backwards as Lord Shurush's shaft was pushing free, his fat slab of bestial meat throbbing centimetre by centimetre out into the open.

After what felt like far too long to be reasonable, Moxy stopped gulping. Then, he simply began to suckle, Lord Shurush by now fully hard and pulsing slowly.

I am pleased with your progress, pet, I heard Lord Shurush's voice ring. I swallowed, looking at him as he enjoyed himself in Moxy's muzzle. It is a shame it took as long as it did - I had hoped to have finished preparing you before Ihalahi visited yesterday.

I, of course, had been reluctant for the wrong reasons then. How foolish and shallow I had been.

"I... apologise," I said. "I disappointed you."

Only mildly, pet.

The words stung some part deep inside my core, and I felt my ears lay flat in shame.

However, you will have your chance to atone.

My ears perked back up, and I looked to Lord Shurush's eyeless face. He seemed to almost be smiling as his sightless regard held me.

"My Lord?" I asked, hesitant.

Present yourself to me, pet.

I swallowed, then licked my beak. Still there was no weight of command behind his words. Truly, he did not wish to command me without need. Yet... I did not want to disappoint the beast, either. I was better than that. Slowly, I turned around where I sat, getting down to all fours.

I felt my heart thudding softly in my chest. I turned away from my master, then looked out into the ballroom.

Everything was so open. I could see retainers and servants waiting around the edge of the room by tables and cabinets. Lord Shurush's servants who were not so favoured as to serve his person directly. They watched us from beside exhibits where transformed and warped toys writhed and shuddered in enforced, alien pleasures, some so changed as to be render what they actually were or were even _experiencing_unrecognisable. They could all see me as I held there, on all fours, facing away from the beast that had taken ownership of me.

I found myself blushing slightly as I lifted my tail, exposing my embarrassingly untouched hole to the great beast. Glancing back, I saw Moxy give a muffled splutter as Lord Shurush pressed a paw to the back of his head and threaded his animalistic cock down the dragon's throat in one casual shove.

Good pet. Prepare it.

I tensed, for I knew that had not been a command for me. I held there, my heart racing in my chest as I heard a bowl set down and the clack of claws on polished flooring. I gently bit my tongue as I felt a scaled hand come to my ass, giving it one greeting squeeze. I felt the servant - Dai - rub against my flank. As I heard Moxy suckle on Lord Shurush's cock, I similarly heard the pop of a bottle cork. A hand slid around my tail and a handful of tailfeathers and hiked it out of the way even further than how far I had lifted it and, a moment later, a cool and slick substance was _poured_directly down my crack.

A clawed finger pushed to my hole and began to rub, and I curled the toes of my paws. I couldn't bring myself to look back to meet the grey dragon's gaze as he slowly began to finger my rump.

Just relax, pet. This is one thing this toy knows well.

I let out a huff of heated air and tried to do as my Lord bade, feeling Dai's finger start to circle my hole, spiralling slowly inwards. My cock jutted proudly beneath me, pointed to the ground. While my loincloth covered me from the front, it hid nothing from the back - letting Lord Shurush and the grey dragon see how much my body was enjoying the situation. I could feel myself starting to dribble precum. As someone who had always considered himself a ladies' gryphon, whom had only ever felt attraction to those of the female persuasion - excepting Lord Shurush - I found my body's reaction to the _male_grey dragon somehow profoundly humiliating.

Then Dai's finger pushed against my puckered bud and squashed inside.

As something slipped into my ass for the first time in my life, I gave a startled squawk. My body felt flush with heat and my cock pulsed, sending a wet splatter of precum onto the ground. I squeezed my eyes closed and let out a hiss at the sensation. It filled me with a burning shame. Another male - one that was not Lord Shurush - touching me so intimately. I hated the way his finger spread me around him so easily. The way everyone in the room would be able to see his digit disappearing into my untouched rear. Most of all, I felt shameful distaste at how much my body responded, my cock growing rock hard and eager. Lord Shurush and my fellow servants seemed to approve of my noise, for Dai began to finger me then.

It was overwhelming from the start.

I tightened my talons into fists and tried to steady my shaky breathing. I could feel him toying with my ring. It was one thing to have Lord Shurush beneath my tail, but to have Dai using me left me shaking in unease. Above all was the way my mind _delighted_in the sensations though.

I could feel him behind me, fingering my ring, his fingers exploring my virgin ass. I wouldn't disappoint Lord Shurush by declining his demand, yet the longer it went on, the harder it was to resist my mind wandering.

I imagined Dai stretching me wider, his fingers pushing me to my limits before they slipped out. He gripped my rear tightly in his hands and spread my cheeks wide, right in front of Lord Shurush. I let out a squawk of urgent surprise as I felt him line his own plump shaft up with my rear and made to turn my head back. Before I could, I felt him push his own hips forwards, pressing that thick, heated crown into my loosening rim. My breath caught in my throat for a moment, before he began to hump himself inwards, spreading me around his ridged shaft. My beak parted in a horrified gasp as I felt my ass squeeze around him, before I felt him jab against a spot inside my ass that I knew had to be my prostate.

I blinked. Pleasure radiated through my rear as I came to from a brief, hazy interlude. I twisted my head back and saw that Dai was kneeling behind me, his hand hidden beneath my tail and tailfeathers, his own loincloth still donned. A sly smile was playing about his snout, as though he knew well what phantasm had just swum through my mind. I blushed furiously and turned my head away as I felt him again press against my prostate, and a wave of pleasure washed through my senses.

I'd never felt anything like it.

I couldn't help myself - I pushed back against him, eyes squeezing closed as I revelled in the new sensations. My balls drew up as my cock slobbered another rope of precum from its tip.

You like this, pet?

I grimaced, but nodded my head. I hated another male being within me - unless, of course, it were Lord Shurush - but I couldn't deny the pleasure my traitorous body was feeling.

Good... I sensitised you quite intensely; I was worried the nerve changes had not taken.

I gasped as Dai pumped his claw in to the third knuckle, then popped it back out. I felt like I could erupt just from being fingered like this! An embarrassed sensation of gratitude swept through my belly as I realised that these feelings had come as a gift from my master. I honestly felt that the sensation of the dragon's finger pumping slowly in and out of my hole was better than a fist around my cock.

"I th-think I will cum, Lord," I panted, clenching my talons into fists.

Not yet, you will not. Mmh... More tongue, toy. I am saving my load for a new servant this eve, so my precum is all you will get.

At Lord Shurush's command, Moxy began to slurp _noisily_at our master, and I soon heard him letting out primal trills of pleasure.

Then, a second finger pressed to my rear. I gasped, then tried my best to relax.

As I was spread open around Dai's fingers, I let my head hang down and regulated my breathing. The feeling of having two digits sinking into my heated ring of flesh had me trembling, and I knew now it was because Lord Shurush had tweaked my body's sensitivity somehow. I wondered dimly how it would have felt without such adjustments, but in truth, I cared little for imagining when I had those fingers pumping in and out of me with increasing force and speed. I tried to pretend it was Lord Shurush tending me, for that helped diminish the unease I felt.

Before long, I felt the growing pressure within my prostate that signalled my encroaching climax. If Dai kept up his fingering, my hole stretching around his knuckles as he curled and squished himself inside, I didn't think I could stop myself. I began to pant and to tremble as my cock spat precum and I felt my knot throbbing hotly. My tail tensed in Dai's grip as his fingers spread me oh so much more widely and I moaned for all to hear. Then he spread me hard - wide enough that it hurt, then paused, letting my ring relax again. Then again, he stretched my hole so very wide, his fingers splaying out deliberately to stretch me. I clawed at the ground and shivered, holding position for what felt like minutes as Dai stretched and worked my virginal ass that way in rhythmic cycles. Over and again he would stretch my ring to the point that it felt I could take no more - and then abruptly relax, letting me close again.

Then, somewhere between mercifully and frustratingly, the dragon stopped. His fingers paused, and then slowly withdrew. I felt my breath leaving my lungs in heavy pants and prepared myself for whatever was to come next. Three fingers? A rough shove? I found my tongue was dry in nervous anticipation.

Then two heavy, bestial paws thumped down on either side of my shoulders. My breath froze in my lungs.

I didn't dare move. Not as I felt my Lord's chest slowly lower against my back. Not as I felt his spore-sac, soft and plush, squash against the back of my head. Not even as I felt his hips move, and then his fat, enormous spire squash up against my ass. I felt the kiss of his crown against my oiled pucker, leaving a wet slop of bestial precum against my entrance.

Good pet. Stay still. How do you feel?

"N...nervous," I answered swiftly, curling my toes. "I don't think I could p...possibly take you, Lord." A rumbling trill of amusement sounded out from directly above me.

I have no intention on hilting you today, pet; you would likely die. Today is just a start. In a few weeks your body should be changed enough to take all of me though, and then I might take to wearing you as a sleeve. I wasn't sure how I felt about that, but my cock spasmed at the mental image of my body being used as a second sheath for my bestial master. Now, there is a good response. Relax now, pet.

Lord Shurush began.

He pushed his hips forwards and I felt the broad, blunt pressure of his cock shove against my barely loosened ass. I grunted out and clenched my beak shut, feeling my muscles give just a little. Lord Shurush drew back, the pressure easing but his cock not leaving its mark beneath my tail. He felt so very hot behind me, his flesh far hotter than mine. He'd felt big in my beak; he felt enormous against my ass.

I laid my ears flat as he ground against me, each push adding a little more pressure than the last against my weakening ring of muscles. I knew it was a losing battle from the start, but that thought excited me somehow. I'd always thought of myself as a ladies' gryphon, unaware of my true inclinations, and the idea of a cock at last sinking into me from behind had my heart thundering in my chest. Not just any cock, either, but a beast's_cock, _Lord Shurush's cock.

Then Lord Shurush humped his hips forward and I felt my ass give way.

My ring stretched around his crown so abruptly that I felt stunned. I didn't even have the wherewithal to gasp or grunt - I merely tensed, freezing up entirely as I felt his triangular crown sink_through my ring ... and then stop halfway in. With a shudder I realised that _my ass had not yet given completely in after all.

"Nnnh," I moaned, caught between pangs of pain and pleasure.

Almost in, pet. You may cum as much as your body permits once I am inside.

I squeezed around Lord Shurush's cock and let out a wordless noise of understanding. My squeezing evidently had a pronounced effect, for I felt Lord Shurush's cock suddenly pulse and spray a lance of heated precum directly into my depths. He wasn't inside yet, but his cock was mashed up against my quivering ass so firmly that the jet had nowhere to go but_in_. Just that one pulse flooded my insides so much, and I was reminded of just how enormous his tankards really were.

Casually then, Lord Shurush drew back one more time - and before I could so much as clench, he rocked his powerful hips forwards.

His cockhead squelched into me.

I saw spots and let out a most embarrassing _squawk_of overwhelmed surprise as he popped in. Lord Shurush's paw came and pressed down on the top of my beak gently, urging my head to the floor and pinning my mouth shut as I heard him croon out in pleasure.

Shh, pet. This is why I had my servant prepare you.

I writhed softly, feeling so intensely stretched_that I could hardly think. I tried to clench, but the mere act of _trying made me ache so I forced myself to relax instead. I couldn't even make my cock throb lest it tighten my suddenly gaping ring and send a spark of pain through my ass. He was so big. His triangular, plump cockhead stretched me to the point that I felt my wings shaking, and the bulbous nodules on the topside of his crown pushed and squashed against my ring so tightly.

Lord Shurush pulled out again, the shape of his crown tugging my ring backwards to distend slightly. A wet, lewd squelch_sounded out as he popped free and I found my beak blushing to realise it was a noise _my body had made.

I held my tail high and closed my eyes to wait for his entrance. It came with a hump, a rolling buck of his feral hips that squashed his fat crown against my hole and then forced it inside. My cock jolted and I moaned, feeling precum dribble out from my tip - only to be replaced inside me by a powerful jet of Lord Shurush's own slime. It warmed me and I let loose a cry of embarrassed delight.

All those years I had lived, never knowing how much I needed_to feel this. To feel a living, pulsing cock _sink into my ass and hose down my insides with a wave of precum.

So tight, pet... We must fix this.

I nodded my head weakly beneath his paw, then felt him remove it. Both paws came down to the ground and, properly braced again, Lord Shurush began to slowly hump.

Though he could not see my ass pushed up in desire, Lord Shurush felt my body's every spasm and contraction. I couldn't help myself as I squeezed around that enormous, fat breeder, my body simultaneously protesting in pain and jarring my insides with carnal pleasure. It hurt, but the way his crown's mere presence bludgeoned my prostate had me quivering.

I felt my master's urethra gape as a torrent of precum gushed out from it and flooded my depths again. An embarrassed wave of pride swept through my chest and I struggled to push back, but couldn't make my muscles move properly.

It was like my whole brain was focused on that one sensation. Lord Shurush's pulses, his fat, ass-breaking throbs that shattered my thoughts every time they happened. I could feel the regal beast's heartbeat inside me, my burning ass throbbing in its own way.

In. Lord Shurush's cock squelched into my guts, leaving me gasping heavily.

Out. He drew back, pulling my tender ring with his crown and earning a thick dollop of my own, gryphonic precum.

In. His drooling spire pulsed eagerly, and I found myself drooling too.

Out. A spray of precum the size of my whole orgasm_flooded_ my depths and filled me with a wonderful heat.

I heard Lord Shurush trill out in delight as his feral breeder tensed and slopped thick gushes of animalistic slime into my depths. It was so overwhelming but I didn't want him to stop for even a moment, and I couldn't hold back my squawking cries of pure stimulation.

How easily my wish was granted. With every hump, Lord Shurush drove his hips a little deeper, pumped his cock into me a little faster, fucked my inexperienced tail a little harder. My eyes were wide and my beak agape as I felt him working himself off with my ass. In a twisted way I was almost thankful for the aching pain of his stretch because it was the only thing keeping me from erupting.

That's it, pet. Nnh... You enjoy me inside you.

"Y-yes," I groaned to him as he squashed twelve solid centimetres of bestial cock into my ring.

Your cock is so hard. I want to put all sorts of wriggling things down it.

"Nngh, L-Lord!" I gasped and tensed involuntarily, feeling him fill my ass again with another copious slop of precum.

No? Perhaps--nnh--I should strap you down and let some of my menagerie use you between my pleasures?

"L-Lord... Shurush!" I cried out, feeling my own cock starting to throb desperately. My eyes swam through the scenery around us and I saw Moxy, Dai, Beruthen, Sal and other servants watching as I rode towards my edge.

Or perhaps I should, rr, just install you like this, right here, nnh, so you are always ready for me to claim.

Each of his thoughts were broken and punctuated by his heavy, breathy trills of lust. I could feel him hammering in and out of my hole, the ring of muscle feeling practically broken. I could smell his musk, the wonderful stink of his sex, and I adored it. I wanted to bury my beak beneath his balls and huff his heady scent.

By the time my ass was recovering from the hip-jarring hump_inwards that sheathed his spurting crown inside me, he was already wrenching his dick back. I could _feel the sway of his balls, the slosh of his dense, virile sack. He was a monster and he was breeding me.

And I was enjoying it.

Then finally, with a growl that made me tense up involuntarily, he wedged his plump, slimy breeder deeper in my ass than I'd ever felt before. I felt him tense up, and a wave of radiating psychic bliss swamped my being.

Suddenly, all I could feel was pleasure. I could feel Lord Shurush's crown thickening_like a plug, the bulbs behind his head stiffening and locking his cock inside me like a flare. It squashed my prostate and with the first hip-jolting _throb of my master's cock, I felt my body lose control.

A loud, desperate and avian shriek escaped my beak as I felt my muscles tense up and spasm, and I curled my toes tightly as the first sharp clench made my dick jolt and my rump clench around Lord Shurush. The first of my potent ropes of seed splattered across the floor beneath me as I felt his cum erupt into my depths, my cock throbbing heavily as I erupted from nothing more than Lord Shurush fucking me. My knot bloated and I began desperately emptying my balls on the ground in front of the other servants.

I pushed upwards, pressing my back against Lord Shurush's chest and throat-sac as I tensed and spasmed, my beak wide in a shaky gape. I heard him trumpeting a loud noise of bestial triumph as his enormous balls began unloading under my tail, and my own body trembled with echoed pleasure.

With each spurt, I felt my insides bloat. I felt my guts stretch around the sheer volume of fluid he pumped into me with each gooey jet. I couldn't keep my own ass from squeezing needily around him every time my own smaller cock spat ropes of spunk across the floor, but that just made it feel more intense. I could hear Lord Shurush's other servants squirming as they felt the more distant psychic echoes of his pleasure.

Lord Shurush blew puffs of spores around my beak, and I huffed them eagerly. Our connection deepened and his orgasm washed my thoughts away entirely.

My whole world became a hot, sweaty mess of throbbing cocks and squelching slime pouring into me. It felt like it went on forever. The rhythmic pulsing of my master's bestial cock, so little of it actually yet fit inside me. The endless torrent of heated, yellowed monster cum that backed up my insides, welling into an impossible pressure - that finally eased when it built up enough to start squelching deep into me, feeling like it began to almost reach my stomach. The pulses and jolts of my own cock as I climaxed, Lord Shurush's psychic touch prolonging it well past the point I ran out of fluids to erupt. The meaningless chirps and trills of ecstasy as Lord Shurush filled his new pet for the first time. The first time of what I knew - what I wanted to be many. At some point, the pressure in my gut outgrew the pressure of his flared crown, and I felt his thick ropes begin to backwash out from my tightly squeezing ass. Gushes of thick, custard-like slime began to ooze down from my rump and drool over my balls, my thighs, and even my own sheath and dick. I felt stained by him inside and out and I'd never felt anything so good.

Eventually though, the experience finally ebbed to a conclusion.

I regained my senses again and found myself laying on the floor on my side, back pressed against Lord Shurush's belly. His cock was still buried inside me, though now he was laying as well, as he so liked to do. One forepaw was draped over my swollen belly. It felt like he was just merely _warming_his cock inside me for convenience's sake. My belly felt full, like I had just eaten a hearty meal, and I could feel it bulging out obscenely.

"L...Lord..." I began after nearly a minute of purely panting, finding my voice shaky.

Hush, pet. I am pleased.

His words filled me with a budding sense of pleasure. Yet I was not one to obey blindly.

"L-Lord," I repeated, finding my breath. "I w... want to apologise."

Hmm? His thoughts came with a croon of interest that rumbled from his throat.

"For being... hesitant, when first we met."

I accept your apology, pet. Your actions prove your sincerity. I do mean hush, however. The mayor of a nearby township has come to negotiate and should be here promptly.

"Lord Shurush--we are..." I broke off, swallowing.

Yes? Should I be troubled, pet? It is not my concern if some find natural interactions uncomfortable, nor my duty to accommodate. I am Lord of this domain, pet.

I swallowed, then felt Lord Shurush's shaft throb softly inside me. It made my thighs tremble slightly, and my own shaft began to swell again, my pinkish tip peeking from my sheath. At some point, my loincloth had come off and lay beside me.

Does this concern you, pet? To be visibly bred before another of your kind?

Another gryphon? I felt my heart skip a beat. Somehow... the thought struck me as - more than anything - arousing. To be so intimately connected to my master, in full view of another avian. My cock began to rise to attention then, starting to throb on display for our impending guest. Was that a natural reaction, or one Lord Shurush had germinated within my psyche? More importantly, was I concerned either way?

"No, Lord Shurush," I found myself responding as I eased myself back against his broad, feral chest, thinking of the display his guest would witness. "I wouldn't have it any other way."