Grass Eater chewed nervously on a piece of hay as he waited with what looked like most of the rest of his class in the lobby of the Pony Resources Office. Well, most of the rest of the colts in his class. No, not colts – stallions now! Not that he’d actually waited until he’d come of age to do most of what ponies thought of as ‘adult activities’ – Gina would have dumped him in a second if he was the kind of goody four-shoes to actually follow the rules like that. But as of yesterday, it was official.
The ponies around him were mostly separated into small groups, and he could overhear them chatting about what was going on. It was all speculation – they were as confused as he was. Just a little less bored, since they had somepony to talk to and he’d always hung out with Gina and the other griffons. Everypony was so sure he was going to get himself eaten, but she was cool. Even let him try a piece of her rabbit, once – he’d had to eat a lot of grass to get that taste out of his mouth!
There was a loud ‘bing’ and a light over the door to the back rooms lit up. The conversation paused as everypony looked over to see who was going to be called next.
“Grass Eater?” said the pink and blue mare holding a clipboard. “It’s your turn.”
“Finally!” he said under his breath, as he got to his hooves and trotted over. She held open the door until he’d gone through, then let it slam closed behind him.
“So, what’s this all – yowch!” Grass Eater flinched away and turned to look at the white-suited mare next to him, who’d just done something to his ear. “What was that?”
“Your tag,” she said, poking at it with a hoof. His eyes turned to regard the dangling metal, which just had the number ‘44’ on it and nothing else.
“Please proceed to the desk,” said the first mare. “Ticket Taker will explain everything.”
Grass Eater sat down on the folding chair set up in front of the desk, glancing around the room to try to figure out what was going on. There wasn’t a lot to see – filing cabinets, generic patriotic posters (his favorite was the one with the cell-shaded lions and tigers looming over a cowering pony: “Thank your Griffon Protectors!”), a shelf full of books… Ticket Taker had a list of names open on her desk, with a few dozen crossed out.
She didn’t look up as he sat. “You’re Grass Eater, correct? Second son of Moonberry?”
“That’s right,” he said, frowning as she crossed him off the list. “What’s all this about?”
“I’m sorry to inform you that you’ve been selected to serve our Griffon Protectors,” she said. “You should try to look at this as an honor… or something.”
He blinked a couple of times. “Serve them how? Am I being drafted? I didn’t even know we were at war…”
She shook her head. “Serve them more… literally.” When he still stared at her blankly, she spelled it out. “We’re doing a cull.”
“What?!” Grass Eater started breathing heavily. He’d heard about this, but he didn’t think he’d ever see one. “What happened? What did I do?”
“Please don’t panic,” Ticket Taker said. “This is hard enough already.”
“I didn’t do anything!”
She grimaced. “Yeah. You didn’t do anything, so you’re being culled, like 90% of the males in your class. A 50/50 ratio of mares to stallions is detrimental to an ordered and peaceful society. Stallions are physically stronger and prone to violence, which makes them a liability compared to an equal number of mares, and we only need a dozen or so from each yearly cohort to maintain a healthy level of genetic diversity.”
“Oh,” he said once her droning recitation ended, his ears flat against his head.
“What did you think happened to all the extra stallions?” she asked.
“I kind of assumed we were being sent out to some sort of, I don’t know. A work camp or something?”
Ticket Taker shook her head. “They’ve got machinery for that now. Machinery that mares and griffons can operate just fine.”
“So what happens now?” he asked.
She picked up a form from a stack on the desk in her teeth and set it in front of him. “I need your hoofprint on this paper, acknowledging that you’ve been informed of your status and the reasons behind it.”
“No,” he said.
She stared at him. “Are you telling me that you haven’t been informed of your status?”
Grass Eater pushed off from the desk and tipped over his chair, untangling himself and scrambling to his hooves. “So what if I have? I’m not going to sign a form saying they can eat me!”
“Witnessed,” said the pony by the door.
“Seconded,” said the pony with the tags.
Ticket Taker took a pen and drew a big X over the spot for the signature on the form, then the other two walked over and put their hoofprints down as witnesses.
Grass Eater, meanwhile, was racing around the room, looking for a way out. The door back into the lobby was locked, and so was the smaller door to the left. The third door was open, and he rushed through it, down a ramp, and straight into the hooves of a pair of armored griffons, who grabbed him and wrestled him into submission.
“What’s the rush?” one of them said, as his claws dug into Grass Eater’s flank, where his cutie mark would be if he’d ever earned one.
“Calm down, calm down, we’re taking you to the pen,” said the other, his arm around the pony’s neck in a headlock.
“Ow! Ow ow ow, stop it, that hurts!” Grass Eater whined.
“Are you going to stop struggling and walk like a civilized pony?” the first guard asked.
“I give! I give,” Grass Eater said, and they set him down. He thought about running, but he was in a large, dimly lit warehouse of some sort that was obviously underground. And those claws had hurt! He was surprised when he looked back at his flank to see that they hadn’t actually clawed through his hide.
They walked him to his pen. He walked really slowly. It still seemed like no time at all until he was herded into the small metal cell, barely large enough for him to stand, that smelled like bleach. They closed the door behind him with a ‘clang’, and left him in the dark.
“This can’t be happening,” he said to himself. “This can’t be happening. No no no no no.” Squinting his eyes shut and wishing really hard didn’t magically transport him to a wide open sunny field where he could run and play in freedom, though, so instead he curled up in a ball and sobbed.
===
Some time later the cell wall in front of him fell away, and his eyes squinted shut from the sudden blinding sunlight.
“Wow, Grassy,” said a familiar voice. “You look like shit.”
“Gina?” Grass Eater said, squinting and trying to make out her face.
“Is this the pony you requested, ma’am?” asked a griffon guard, off to the side.
“Yeah, this is Grassy all right,” she said. Something tugged at his neck, and he realized that at some point she’d clipped a collar around his neck, and was holding the leash. She tugged on it again, and he got to his hooves. “Come on, dude, let’s get you out of here.”
“Oh, thank the stars,” he said, breathing heavily and trotting after her as his eyes started to adjust. She was leading him down the street, which was suspiciously clear of ponies, although the griffons he could see seemed to be going about their normal business. “I thought I was going to die in there.”
Gina laughed. “No way, dude. When I saw you were on the list I snapped you up like that!” She snapped her talons together, making a soft clicking noise. “Trudy was so hyped when she heard you were coming over, that little puffball’s been bouncing off the walls.”
“Literally, I bet,” Grass Eater said, chuckling. Gertrude was Gina’s little sister, still a fledge – too young to have her flight feathers yet. She played a bit rough for his tastes, but it was worth the scratches to see the big grin she always had on her face when he came around.
“Yeah, she’s really looking forwards to having you,” Gina said. “She can’t stop talking about it.”
“So what’s with the leash?” Grass Eater asked. “Am I your slave colt now?”
Gina laughed. “No, dude, you’ve been culled. You’re dinner.”
“What?”
“Figured you wouldn’t want to get eaten by some stranger, or popped in the head –” she bopped him on the temple “– and ground into hamburger, right?”
“I don’t want to get eaten at all!” he said, setting his hooves and standing his ground, only taking a couple of steps as the leash went taut. “I thought you were getting me out of there to save me!”
Gina laughed. “Oh shit, really? Wow.”
“Look – nogriffon has to know, right? You can just say you ate me –”
“Don’t be such a wuss,” she said.
“A wuss? A wuss?” he said, eyes wide and teeth gritted.
“Yeah, it’s like, totally uncool to just freak out like that,” Gina said, rolling her eyes. “Look, dude. If you ran off you’d just get eaten by some wolf or lion or something, even assuming the guards didn’t catch you and get both of us in trouble. So just be cool, and let it happen.”
Grass Eater shook his head.
“Seriously, Trudy’s been looking forward to this all day. Do you really want to be the one who has to tell her that we’re not actually having a pony over for dinner tonight? Because I sure don’t,” Gina said.
“I wouldn’t be. I’d be running off to get eaten by a lion.”
Gina snorted. “Yeah. It’d be me. Which is why I’ll run you down and drag you back hogtied if I need to. You know you can’t outrun me, Grassy.”
“Shit,” Grass Eater said, sitting down in the middle of the road.
Gina sat down next to him and put a wing over his back. Without thinking, he leaned against the soft feathers and fur of her side, and nuzzled his muzzle into her neck. Her sharp beak combed through his mane, straightening the coarse strands.
“One more thing,” she said, as she groomed him. “Trudy’s really young, you know?”
He grunted in response.
“She still buys all that shit about Griffon Protectors and ponies being all thankful for being under our paws.” She sighed, and nipped at his ear, just enough to make it twitch. “They told her that the ponies who got culled were happy to get eaten. That it was an honor.”
“That’s fucked up,” Grass Eater mumbled.
“Yeah, maybe,” she said. “But she buys it, right? And you’re not going to ruin this for her.”
Grass Eater wrinkled his nose.
Gina continued, “You’re going to go in there and act like it’s the best thing ever to get served up as our dinner, and Trudy’s going to have the best day of her life. You hear me? You’re not going to ruin this for her.”
Grass Eater wilted, his tail curled tight between his legs. “I don’t know if I can do that.”
“You’ll try,” Gina said. “You’ll try your hardest, and I’ll…” she curled her wing underneath his belly, and the tips of her feathers brushed his tail aside and stroked at his sheath. “I’ll make it worth your while, okay?”
“Fuck,” he said, as he started to swell, despite himself.
“Yeah, that,” Gina said, bumping him on the side of the head with her forehead, then dragging him to his hooves. “Come on, doofus.”
===
Gertrude pounced him as soon as they walked in the door. “Grassy!” she squeaked, buzzing her wings to get enough height to land on his shoulder. She dug in her claws and talons, scrambling up to his back where she bounced up and down. “You’re here! You’re here!”
“Heh, heh, yeah, I couldn’t miss this, could I?” Grass Eater said, turning a bit to get a look at her and then giving a yelp as something dug into his neck. “Watch it!”
“Gnaaarnomnomnom,” said the tiny little griffon as she worked at his hide with her beak, her talons digging in to either side to get a better grip.
“Hold off, puffball,” Gina said, grabbing her sister by the scruff and prying her off, setting her in the middle of Grass Eater’s back. “We don’t want to make a mess on the carpet. Come on, everything’s set up in the playroom.”
She was still gnawing on his spine all the way there, but with a little less zeal. Grass Eater absently reached up to rub at the place she’d been biting, which still stung, and his hoof came away damp. Gina licked off the blood before he could set his hoof back down. “Er, thanks,” he said.
“Anytime,” she shot back with a grin, then leaned over and licked at his wound, squirming her tongue around until he hissed in pain. “Come on.”
The playroom was the big room in the back where Gina and her brothers practiced fighting… sometimes it was Gertrude’s playroom instead, sometimes it was where Gina had Grass Eater pin her up against the wall when she was feeling frisky. The floor was tiled for easy cleaning, since all of those activities could get a little messy. Today, they’d laid down a big tarp. It made little crumply noises under their paws and hooves as Gina led him into the center.
“Can I eat you now? Can I can I can I?” Gertrude asked, climbing up onto Grass Eater’s mane and yelling right in his ear.
“Um…” he mumbled.
“Maybe a bite,” Gina said. “But don’t eat too much just yet. We’re gonna screw around a bit first.”
“Ewww,” Gertrude said, then giggled. “Are you gonna make the funny faces?”
“I sure hope so!” Gina said with a grin, then reached up and guided her sister down to Grass Eater’s shoulder. “Here, you can bite him here without hurting him too much. Just one bite!”
“Arrnomnomgrmmpl,” said the tiny griffon, digging in her claws and latching on with her beak.
Grass Eater hissed in pain as the sharp edges sliced through his skin, and let out a pained whimper as she grabbed on to a piece of flesh and worked to tear it off of him. There was a grotesque tearing sensation, and then gobbling noises as the fledge flapped clumsily to the ground with a bloody piece of meat dangling from her beak. He watched in horror as it vanished into her gizzard, and forced a smile as she met his eyes.
“You’re really tasty!” she said, smiling back.
“He is,” Gina said, licking some of the blood off the wound. “We’re really lucky to have him.” She turned and wiped the blood off her beak on Grass Eater’s cheek, then kissed him. As her beak parted and his tongue met hers, dancing with it as they slid past one another, the pain and the rest of the world slid away, just like it always did when he was with her.
He panted as she pulled back. She circled him and brushed his hair lightly with her feathers, making him tingle, then he groaned as she set her talons against the base of his neck and stroked down his back, scratching them lightly along his hide.
“You’re so soft. You know I love that about you, right?” Gina said, continuing to stroke his back with her claws as she let her beak drift down to his flank, licking and nibbling lightly at the spot where his cutie mark should have been, while her wing curled under him again to stroke at his sheath. He gave a soft grunt as he felt himself emerge, his shaft hardening as her feathers brushed it. “A pony like you is going to taste wonderful,” she said, then gave him a stronger nip. “So tender… so juicy…”
He gave a soft whimper as her beak bit down harder, and hissed, his knees quivering as she slowly, carefully tore off a piece of meat. He could feel the warm blood trickle down his leg.
“You like being eaten, don’t you?” she said, the talon on his back reaching down to grip his shaft, which was painfully hard now. “Wow, you like it a lot.”
Grass Eater glanced over at Trudy, who was watching the whole thing with wide curious eyes. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I do.”
She flopped onto her back next to him, legs spread wide to show him her sex, glistening wet. “Well, first you’re going to fuck me. You’re going to fuck me like there’s no tomorrow.” Her paws guided him to stand over her, then gripped onto his flanks as his cock hovered over her.
“Because there’s not,” he said. “Not for me.” He adjusted a bit, then leaned forwards, driving himself into her, his face going slack as his rock hard shaft sank into the wonderful slippery warmth of his griffon lover. Her talons gripped his shoulders, and she threw her head back, beak hanging open. Grass Eater gave a quick thrust, and slammed himself the rest of the way inside. He felt her squeeze tight around him as she gave a soft chirp.
“I’ll show you soft,” he growled, as he pulled back and then thrust in again, and again, the griffon under him jiggling in time to his movements.
“Yeah… yeah…” Gina gasped. “Fuck! Fuck that’s good!” she said, gripping onto him tightly as she did her best to push back against him and drive him in deeper, and harder. Blood started to run down his shoulders as her talons sunk in in earnest.
He was gasping for breath, and his muscles started to burn, but feeling her move underneath and around him – and feeling her dig in her claws as her pleasure overcame her restraint – was enough to drive him on harder, pushing himself to thrust into her harder, to start moving faster, and to hold on when it felt like he was going to explode.
“Yes! Yes! Oh yes! Fuck me, you grass eating dirt pony!” she moaned. “Oh stars, yes. Yes!”
“Ahh… ahhh!” Grass Eater started to moan as the pressure built up, “I can’t – I’m going to –“
“Do it!” Gina hissed, her beak opening and closing randomly as her body squirmed beneath him.
“Ahhh!” He hilted himself inside her, and cried out as he felt himself explode, pleasure washing through him as his seed sprayed inside her, pumping her full of warmth as he slowly collapsed. “Oooh… fuck…” he moaned, breathing heavily as he flopped onto Gina’s belly, resting his head on her chest, his cock still half-erect, buried inside her.
The moment was only slightly ruined as Gertrude started to giggle. “You guys make the funniest faces,” she said. “Can I eat you now?”
“Yeah,” Gina said. “We’ve had our fun, time to eat.”
The little griffon fluttered up and landed on Grass Eater’s mane, and leaned down over his forehead. “Hey Grassy, can I eat your eyes? I’ve heard eyes are really tasty but the meat we get never has eyes in it!”
“What?” he said, blinking a bit.
Gina slapped him in the cheek. “Say yes, dude. You’re not going to need them anymore.”
“Can I can I can I? Pleeeease?”
Grass Eater felt a spark of fear rise up inside him, but he was still kind of tired and happy after sex, and it was hard for it to get any purchase. “Um… yeah. Okay. I don’t think you actually need to – ah! Oooow!”
He grabbed onto Gina tightly with his hooves as the tiny griffon on his head dug into his eye socket with her beak, and twitched as the sharp tips of the upper and lower beak slipped around the sides of his eyeball, until the whole beak could latch onto it. His hoof started to rise to pull her off, but Gina grabbed on and held it down firmly, and all he could do was give little gasps as Gertrude tugged and wiggled, tearing at the muscles inside the socket until the whole eye popped out of his head.
He had a brief glimpse of the bloody orb sitting in her beak before she chomped down and popped it, some of the juices squirting over his face and forcing his remaining eye shut.
“Ow wow,” she said, the words a bit garbled around the mushed up eye sitting in her mouth as she gobbled it down. “It’s really good! Why do you only have two eyes?”
Grass Eater didn’t have time to answer before she was digging into his other eye socket. This time she had a better idea what she was doing, and it only took a couple seconds before it popped out, and he felt another gush of juices as she crushed it in her beak.
“It’s because I’m a bad pony,” he said, trying to wipe off the wetness on Gina’s feathers so that he could open his eyes again, which of course didn’t work. “I kept all my other eyes for myself, because they’re so tasty.”
Gina snorted, and then both of them giggled a little. Grass Eater was blind now. Even if somehow the griffons eating him changed their minds, he still wouldn’t have any sort of future, not under griffon rule. Maimed ponies were always culled, everypony knew that much. It was finally sinking in that there was no hope – that there never had been.
“Don’t worry, Grassy,” Gertrude said, seriously. “I forgive you. The rest of you is really tasty too.”
“And you want to know the tastiest part?” Gina asked. “I mean, besides his eyes.”
“What? What?” the little griffon asked.
“Here,” Gina said, shifting under him to set her paws against his belly. “Let me show you.”
Her talons dug into his shoulders to get a good grip, and then the claws on her hind paws dug into him – with a kick that made him cough, she dug them in deeply, then jerked them downwards with all her strength.
Grass Eater screamed as he felt his belly rip open, the warm squirmy strands of his intestines pouring out over Gina’s belly, sliding down her sides and pooling on the tarp. He sagged onto the pile, unable to hold himself in place without his abdominal muscles, his forelegs twitching as he tried to reach down and put his innards back inside – but he couldn’t move them far, not with her talons pinning him in place, holding him up as his strength left him.
And somehow, his cock was rock hard, shoving back inside her as it stiffened, the slick walls of her sex squeezed tightly around it by her change in posture.
“Woah,” she said, and one of his forelegs was freed as she reached down to slide her talons through his slimy guts. “That’s hot.” She laughed, grabbed onto his sides, and dragged him forwards, thrusting his cock deeper into her. “And you think so too, apparently.”
Grass Eater moaned… but yeah, it was hot. Feeling his shaft sinking into her again, while his whole chest slipped easily up and down against her on a bed of his own intestines – he’d never felt anything like it. There was pain, but there was always pain, fucking a griffon, and it just made him harder.
He just wished he could do it right… but while he could move his hind legs, he couldn’t do the movements she needed. The ones she was doing for him, sliding him back and forth. He did his best, though, bracing his hind hoof against the tarp and pushing off as she pulled.
“Ooooh… yeah…” she moaned, so he kept doing that.
The slick, squelching sounds of their movement was joined by the messy gobbling noises from the little griffon fledge, as she got to work on the guts that had spilled onto the tarp. “Soo good,” she mumbled around the strings of intestine. “But eyes are better.”
The sex was awkward, so it didn’t go fast. After a couple of minutes, Gina nipped him on the cheek. “How’re you doing, chump?”
“Everything hurts,” he croaked. He was still hard, but it didn’t feel like he was going to be able to get off, not with as much pain as he was in.
“Ready to end it, then?” she asked.
Grass Eater paused, enjoying a few more thrusts, then sighed and nodded.
Gina’s beak closed around his throat. He tensed up. Her talons jerked him forwards, driving him deep inside her. He gave a little moan, the fear rising up in his chest again. Then a terrible pain as her sharp beak sliced him open, hot blood spurting from his neck to spray over her face and splatter against the tarp like raindrops. He jerked and struggled in her grip, then felt a sudden unexpected pleasure down below as he spurted off one more time inside her, the pain and pleasure mingling into a muddled mess as everything swirled around and he didn’t understand what was –
===
Gina held the pony close to her as his body jerked and twitched, the movements gradually slowing to a stop. Once he was just dead weight, she rolled him onto the tarp, stood up and shook herself off like a dog.
Trudy giggled at her. “You’re all messy.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Gina said, glancing down at herself, painted red with the pony’s blood. “That’s why I put down the tarp.”
“Is he dead now?” Trudy asked. She stopped munching on intestines long enough to waddle over and poke at the pony’s face. “Hey, Grassy! Are you dead now?” When he didn’t react, she looked over to Gina and nodded. “I think he’s dead.”
“Yeah, but at least he died happy,” Gina said, poking her beak into the gaping hole in the pony’s belly and tearing out a piece of the liver. She chewed on it for a bit, then swallowed it down. “I’m gonna miss his dumb ass.”
Trudy nodded. “He was a good pony, so he’s going to come back as a griffon, and then you can be together for real and get married and have lots of baby griffons together.”
“Eh, I don’t think that’d work,” Gina said, reaching down and ruffling Trudy’s head-feathers. “He’ll be even younger than you!”
Trudy’s beak opened wide, as if she hadn’t even thought of that. “Maybe I can be his big sister! Can I? Can I?”
Gina chuckled, as she gobbled down another piece of liver. “Maybe. You’ll have to ask mom and dad.”
