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"Mmm." Eli rubbed his face against the soft swell of Brett's stomach, his beak gently teasing soft fur and his hands rubbing over his growing pregnancy. Ever since they'd woken up on the second day of Brett's captivity, the stud had been a doting, smiling bundle of love, and Brett's baby bulge was the center of his attention.

Taloned fingers drew teasing circles over the soft bulge, then slid lower to massage his aching, needy sex, dipping inside to stir clenching walls, spreading dripping honey over his lower lips. Fingers slipped into his luscious, needy depths, stretching his silken walls with massaging motions. He'd never understand how such unwieldy appendages could be so dextrous and sensual.

At first, the sight of his growing stomach freaked Brett out, but with his stud's help, he was warming to the idea of carrying Eli's clutch. Of course, it helped that the lustful fog of his transformation lifted once he started to show, as though he were in heat, and his pregnancy quenched it, though he still craved Eli's touch. His lust felt more genuine, as though he wanted Eli himself rather than a willing dick.

He drooled arousal, his inner walls dragging along thick digits with syrupy noises and slicking every gentle thrust. Spreading his legs wide, he bared his pretty pussy to the male's hungry gaze, his tail flicking and a blissful expression on his beak. "O-Only for you." He reached down to massage the doting griffin's cheek, tensing in preparation as the man's beak lowered past his belly, hot breath teasing his lips.

Thud. The door slammed open, and three masked men entered, carrying cattle prods and dual pairs of handcuffs. One of them cleared his throat and spoke hoarsely. "Doctor Wu needs to examine the specimen. Stand aside and let us take him."

With horror, Brett realized they were talking to Eli. Were they going to separate them? He didn't want that. Eli was his only lifeline in this place. His eyes teared up, and he clutched at his mate's arm, burying his face against Eli's chest.

Desperate tears stained soft feathers, but Eli's fingers squeezed Brett's thigh reassuringly, and he moved himself to intercept the approaching assistants. "First of all, mess one feather on his head, and I'll shove those toys so far up your ass you learn how they taste. Second, I'm going with him. If you think I'm letting my mate out of my sight for one second, you're a fucking idiot."

Wary, defiant eyes dared the masked men to defy Eli's demands, and he helped Brett to his feet, drying tears with gentle fingers. "You'll feel better if I'm there, won't you? I promise I won't let them hurt you." He turned his gaze to Brett and pressed a soft kiss to his feathered forehead. How did he always know just what to say? Despite their short relationship, Brett didn't know what he would do without Eli.

Silence met Eli's demands, and Brett felt despair tug at his heart. They had to listen, didn't they? Eli was important to them. Worried, racing thoughts slowed as the masked man nodded. "Alright. You're due for a physical yourself. Submit yourself without complaint, and Doctor Wu will allow you to stay together." Brett's heart soared despite the visible sag in Eli's shoulders, too grateful to question Eli's defeated expression and his slight shake as if his skin crawled.

Cold, unyielding cuffs shackled Brett's hands in front of him, but Eli's comforting warmth against his side chased away his misgivings. Carefully, he reached out to grip Eli's hand, resting his cheek against a protective arm and nuzzling against its bicep. "Thank you..." He whispered as masked assistants led them from the room.

"Don't thank me yet, sweet hen. These checkups aren't the most fun thing in the world." Eli sighed, and a shudder rippled through him. "Doctor Wu isn't known for being gentle, and his methods are... hands-on." He shook his head, clearing his gloomy expression and turning his beak toward Brett. "B-But I promise I'll take care of you. I'll be right there, holding your hand the whole time."

Brett's mind was far less clouded than the first time he traveled the white, pristine halls. Despite the growing weight in his midsection distracting him with every step, his eyes scanned passing doors with interest, pondering their meaning. 'Maintenence,' 'Surveillance,' 'Breeder Quarters,' and 'Medical.' Of course, the first two were self-explanatory, but what did they mean by 'Breeders?' Were there more griffins in this hellish place? Exactly how long had this program been going on?

Before Brett peeked further down the hall and read the rest of the inscriptions, the medical door whooshed open, and a familiar, ominous voice greeted him, dripping with politeness but utterly cold.

"Hello again, Mr. Molina, Elias. I trust you've been settling into your cozy little nest." Doctor Wu, the asshole behind the intercom. The man was responsible for Brett's incarceration and Eli's mistreatment. His blood boiled, and he opened his mouth, about to give the doctor a piece of his mind when Eli stepped slightly in front of him.

"Yes, sir. Thank you for asking, Doctor Wu." Eli's usual cocky, combative attitude melted into quiet obedience, and the man's bulky body shook softly, like a frightened child facing an angry parent. His shoulders slumped, and he stared at the floor, but still, despite his body language, he shielded Brett from cold, calculating eyes with his bulk.

Masked interns removed both griffins' restraints, then took their places at the door, their hands resting on cattle prods. Obedient soldiers protecting their commanding officer? No, on closer inspection, there was just as much fear in the eyes behind their masks.

"Come now, Elias. Aren't you happy to see me? Where's your piss and vinegar?" Doctor Wu taunted Eli, motioning to a padded, reclined medical chair and fixing his cold, shark-like gaze onto Brett. "Sit, boy. I've tests to run and people to see. I'd prefer not to wait here all day."

Cowed by the doctor's imposing presence, Brett followed instructions, climbing into the examination seat. Feeling more vulnerable than ever, he let his legs spread and reached out for Eli's hand, pointedly refusing to look at the doctor's dead eyes.

Snap. The sound of latex gloves covering Dr. Wu's fingers, followed by the rustle of his lab coat, then the chilly touch of probing fingers on Brett's still slippery sex. There was no care in those spreading fingers, only clinical exploration. Discomfort bloomed as his hand slipped in without warning, fingers manipulating the entrance to Brett's womb as though weighing it.

Muscled arms drew Brett's face into the soft fur of Eli's belly, cradling him against him. "It's okay. I'm here. I won't let anything bad happen." Despite the hulking griffin's words, he seemed unable to look at the doctor's rough treatment, and Brett wondered if his stroking fingers meant to calm Brett or Eli himself. His heart broke for the sweet, misunderstood breeder, and he nuzzled into stroking fingers, accepting Eli's comfort and wordlessly letting him know he was alright.

"Everything seems to be in order. Properly formed cervix, successful impregnation, quickened gestation, and adequate elasticity." An erection tented the doctor's slacks, horrifying Brett with thoughts of what he might do next. Thankfully, his attention shifted to Eli rather than remaining fixed on Brett's vulnerable form. "Now, for your physical. I trust you know the drill by now."

With an ashamed expression, Eli nodded, reluctantly removing his stroking fingers from Brett's feathers. "I'm sorry. Please, don't look." Tail lifted and rear upturned, Eli leaned over the examination table, hiding his face in Brett's feathers. Fingers clenched into the padded material on either side of his mate, piercing it with blunted claws, and his eyes screwed shut.

"Well behaved today, aren't we? Has the new hen tamed you?" Taunting and condescending, the doctor brought a new set of tools from a corner of the room. Brett couldn't help himself despite Eli's embarrassment and watched as a glass tube slipped below the hunched, shivering griffin, the sound of sucking air making its purpose clear. The 'milking machine' the doctor mentioned yesterday?

A strangled noise from the cowering griffin announced the tube's attachment. "D-Damn thing's like ice. Fuck." Eli lamented his cock's icy glass sheath in a hoarse whisper.

Next, a wicked-looking phallically shaped probe, attached to a long cord, filled the doctor's hands. "You've been a belligerent little shit these past few days, haven't you, Elias?" Spitting on the device's tip in an unprofessional display, the doctor lowered it between Eli's cheeks, slotting it against the ebony pucker. "Belligerent little shits have to be punished." With a grunt of effort, he shoved the device into Eli's resisting hole, delighting in the ensuing squirms. Beady eyes behind glasses held no sympathy, and the front of his slacks tented further as though he enjoyed every second of torturing the griffin.

"Hurts. Can't. Nngh." Eli's body spasmed while the doctor forced his hole open, and Brett could feel tears moistening his feathers. The poor thing was trying so hard to remain gentle and still despite the metal raping open his unprepared hole, and his body hunched just right to prevent his bulk from crushing Brett's stomach.

Though Eli came along to comfort Brett, the anger rising in Brett's chest brought forth a defensive side he didn't know he had, and he cradled Eli closer, trailing his claws through shuddering feathers and trying his best to distract him. Though he said nothing, the look he shot the grinning doctor could have killed. Pregnant or not, Brett wanted to rip him apart. The only thing stopping him was uncertainty. Eli might get hurt if Brett attacked the doctor, and who knew what the device in Eli's ass could do?

"There it is. You know what happens next." With a resounding slap against Eli's furred ass, Dr. Wu flipped a switch on the metal probe. "I think you've earned the highest setting." Licking his lips, the doctor stroked himself while the device hummed to life.

Shaking muscles seized while wracking sobs rolled Eli's body against Brett's, his body thrashing involuntarily as the smell of ozone filled the air. With dawning horror, Brett realized that the probe wasn't a vibrator or some prostate massager. Doctor Wu was electrocuting the griffin's prostate, forcing him to cum against his will and searing his hole with settings far too high.

Moments passed, trying desperately to hold onto the seizing griffin until the doctor relented, yanking the probe free and letting Eli collapse forward, limp and half-conscious. Cruel hands popped the glass tube from the retreating griffin cock, revealing the inside painted with wasted seed.

"Good. That should be enough genetic material for the next few weeks of experimentation. Enjoy your time with your stud. I'll be around in two days to collect your clutch." Leaving the room after addressing Brett, the doctor motioned to his faceless assistants, still shamelessly stroking himself through his pants before he disappeared through the door.

"I'm sorry." Came a weak voice from Brett's chest as human hands lifted the heavy griffin from Brett's body, dragging his limp form toward the door. Golden eyes glistened with tears, and he tried desperately to regain his footing, but every movement seemed as if his legs were jelly. Eventually, he gave up, letting himself slump against human hands.

Brett wasn't sure what to say to the sobbing griffin, walking alongside him in uncomfortable silence. Claws scraped against the floor, and grunts punctuated the silence as the interns tried their best to carry his limp form. Thankfully they reached Eli's room soon enough, and Brett took over, glaring at the humans as if to dare them to stop him. Eli was heavy, but this was the least he could do since he just sat there and watched Dr. Wu rape him.

One of the humans lingered, clearing his throat and reaching into one of his pockets. "For what it's worth-" He took a shuddering breath and looked down at the floor, shuffling his feet. "-This should help. When he makes me-" He trailed off, tossing a tube of ointment to the floor and hurrying from the room, the door whooshing shut behind him.

"Sorry. I shouldn't have let you see that." Eli's voice, weak and cracked from crying, mumbled from his crumpled body while he dragged himself further onto the bed, hiding his face in a pillow. "I didn't think he would- I should have watched my mouth." His legs drew up toward his chest, and he wiped his face against the fabric.

"Eli, it's not your fault. He's a monster." Brett kneeled to retrieve the ointment, then slipped into bed alongside the griffin, prying the pillow from his clutching claws and replacing it with his hands on either side of Eli's face. Gently wiping at Eli's tears, he leaned in for a soft kiss, then drew his shaking form closer, letting Eli's face rest against his fluffy chest feathers.

"You don't think less of me?" Desperate hands wrapped around Brett's waist, and Eli's words, muffled by his downy feathers, vibrated against Brett's pecs. "I'm supposed to be this big manly stud, and I just let him-" He buried his face further and trailed off, wetting Brett's feathers with fresh tears.

"Of course not. You're still my stud." Brett ran his fingers through Eli's feathers and guided one of Eli's hands to the soft swell of his pregnant belly. "See? You're going to be a daddy. There's nothing more manly than that."

Patient fingers maintained their slow strokes as the balled-up griffin slowly relaxed into Brett, his sobs eventually fading to even breathing. Tilting Eli's face upward, he entwined their beaks in another gentle kiss, then pressed his forehead against the exhausted stud's. "May I see? I know you're probably still raw, but this might help." Wiggling the tube of ointment between two fingers, Brett stroked down Eli's back, wiggling lower to kiss over his chest.

"Okay. Just be gentle. It feels like a beehive attacked my ass." Eli turned with difficulty, spreading his legs with a wince and letting his tail rest along his back. He buried his face in his arms as if embarrassed but adjusted himself, his big breeder balls sitting proudly beneath his violated hole. It seemed he couldn't resist showing off his assets, even now.

Checking his claws and gnawing their tips to a blunted point, Brett carefully unscrewed the tube's cap and slathered a generous dollop of offwhite cream over his fingers. "Sorry if this hurts."

Spreading Eli's squeezable rump with his free hand, Brett winced at the swollen hole, trying desperately to clench despite its wrecked state. He nuzzled his beak against one cheek, bringing his fingers closer until the tips greeted the gaped jet-black pucker, starting with a slow circle over Eli's puffed rim. Gentle massaging motions teased at his entrance, then slipped past his rim to slide deep inside.

"C-Careful. Still sore." Eli tensed as Brett's fingers slid in deep, trapping slick digits in place, then slowly relaxing. "Feels a bit-" He stiffened as Brett's fingertips brushed over his prostate, his tail thrashing from side to side. "Fuck, why does that feel so good?" As Brett's fingers explored his heated depths, he shoved back, sucking in a hissing breath but revealing a stiffening griffinhood drooping under its weight as his knees gained purchase beneath him, bringing him up onto all fours.

"You mean this?" Brett kissed over that upturned rump, gently massaging the cream into Eli's hole and reaching beneath him to caress his padded belly. Mischievous fingers distracted the griffin from his recent trauma, working the pleasure bulb with a gentle rhythm as if Brett were fucking his hole. Dripping with arousal from the display, Brett had to ignore his awakening sex in favor of pleasuring the griffin, taking hold of his pulsing cock and tugging it gently as if milking a cow.

"Fuck yeah. Right there. God, that's-" Lost in this new form of pleasure, Eli trailed off, his hips moving to mash his needy hole back on slick fingers, then forward into Brett's grip. "If you keep doing that, I'm gonna-" He warned, tensing and shaking as he desperately humped forward.

After all their mating, this side of him was strange, but Brett couldn't deny how hot Eli looked on all fours. If he still had his cock, he'd gladly show Eli how it felt to be fucked into the floor, but for now, all he could do was slip a third finger into the stud's loosening back door and lovingly spread pre along his flexing shaft.

As he always was, Eli was magnificently productive, painting the sheets with rope after rope of thick, creamy griffin cum. His hole clamped down hard, and his tail straightened as a panting groan tore from his throat. Strangely, he was even more lively than he usually was when he finished inside Brett, with his claws digging into the bed and his beak opened wide with a trail of drool dripping from its corner.

Golden eyes refocused after a moment of dopey bliss, then paws unclenched from the sheets, gathering Brett closer. "I fucking love you." His breathy voice whispered as he pinned Brett to the bed, smearing his rear through cooling cum and flopping his still rock-hard cock against Brett's wetness. Sloppy thrusts spread eager lips, and he rammed home with a groaning thrust as his beak turned to capture Brett's.

Desperate tonguing silenced any reply, but Brett's heart soared, and he eagerly bucked into every heavy thrust, his fingers finding their way into that flexing rump. As Eli grunted savagely and quickened his pace, he could only hang on. Words could wait. For now, all he could feel was the building sensation of orgasm slickening his innards and the desperate need to take Eli's load. If this aching need for Eli wasn't love, then Brett wasn't sure what love was.