The Morning Routine
A gryphon royal must serve its master in a very personal way.
It had been three months since I had been captured by the dragons. They had been getting into fights with us gryphons for centuries but this time was different. Intel had shown that the newest draconic generals had some extremely powerful magic heretofore unseen, leveling large swaths of land or causing armies to vanish. Then one day I was unfortunate enough to get caught in the range of their miniaturization/ teleportation spells.
My former castle was torn to pieces by a few pokes of a claw tip before I was suddenly expanded one hundredfold over my previous size, tragically crushing my most devoted guards. I fruitlessly tried to rally the remaining troops to attack the scaly hand of the mage that destroyed my home, but it took no damage, even from siege weaponry. That same hand came to grab me in its steely clutches. All at once, the gryphon army attempted to fly away before the dragon crushed them. The dragon gave off a small puff of flame into the cloud of dust sized gryphons. It was barely a snort of flame, but it was a terrifying maelstrom to the motes. The initial puff of air knocked dozens off kilter, helpless to avoid the encroaching flame. Those that escaped the blast still felt the singe of hot air and were caught in the resulting updraft. The battered survivors were less than a tenth of the initial force, and had lost all will to fight. The land that I had ruled over and my former army were in disarray and disappeared in a flash.
I was not kept by the slim dragon mage that had captured me; I had been passed off to a hulking mass of a soldier, a high ranking general in the dragon royal army. From what I could understand he was disappointed that getting so high in the ranks had got him so far from the front lines, and was initially skeptical of the crazy plan of the mages. It was his idea for generals to keep important gryphons and use them to further demoralize any resistance.
Since then, every day had followed a routine. I slept, ate, and preened myself on a tiled ledge where a continuous stream of clean water flowed from one corner, drained off and had a pile of fine sand next to that. This space was more than enough for my four inch tall form (though I felt sure that it was closer to six inches before). The ledge overlooked the capacious room I would spend the rest of my life. In reality, the space was just a small cell, effectively a closet. The door fit very close to the floor and there were no windows to escape from. The floor was tightly laid stone which was always spotless. In the center of the floor lay a two by 1 foot rectangle inset down into the floor. Within the pit was a major city formerly under my control. The scale varied from day to day or whether it was a city or rural. Rural areas were often at a larger scale, sometimes with gryphons a half inch tall at the maximum. The farmland either lay bare from rushed harvest or showed signs of scorching.
When no dragons were around I used to ask these larger gryphons what had happened since my duchy had fallen. The Empire was facing heavy losses from the dragon's magic. Dragons took anything of value to aid their expanding dominance, and regions that didn't produce acceptably were destroyed gruesomely. When the occupying forces left an area the villagers were at their most frightened because they had heard rumors of the horrific fates they may face. I had long since stopped talking to the villagers about the war, seeing me only confirmed their worst fears. Anti-flight measures were added early on to keep them from escaping as they had back when I was first captured. They knew that they would be made an example of, and only being eaten alive could be any worse.
The door swung outward, putting a chill in the air as the general stepped in, not saying a word as he slowly removed what little clothing he wore. His stiffening cock was four times taller than I was, but seemed to be an entire mile to the microscopic townspeople below.
The dragon squatted low over the village, and I perched on his cock as I had done dozens of times before. Being ordered to do it and refusing made me look better to my former peers, but they were nothing compared to the titan that could crush me along with them with a single hand. Months of experience allowed me to find suitable grip on the slick and smooth fleshy pillar. I had to keep to the underside so everyone could see me serve our new overlord, and try my best to lap up and catch his pre before it crushed the towns. None of this was done out of mercy, the general liked to keep the damage minimal at the start. I kept my focus on pleasing him, burying my face into his leaking slit so I didn't have to see the dragon spread his cheeks and let loose a massive turd over the city center. He grabbed hold of me and stroked as hundreds were caught under his waste. When he neared the edge I was forced to see his creation, gathering up survivors and herding them off to the back edge away from the mountain that crushed their homes.
As always, I wedged myself between his glutes with my wings and cleaned his ass with my bare body. My clothes had become tattered and stained rags in only a few days and this proved to be the best way. Hot shit coated my fur and feathers in seconds, but it didn't take long for most of the waste to be cleared away. Bits of bone and the skulls of gryphons clearly could be identified within the waste. Finally, I licked the remaining waste as he finished off. I would drop down into his hand, unable to fly, and he would drop me back in my bath. The destroyed landscape below would be replaced with a new one and the process would repeat in a day or two. In the interim, I clean myself off and take care of my own erection, out of sight from those pests below.