The midmorning sun beamed down through the high leaf canopy of the Gentle Woods. Slanted rays of light dappled the needle strewn floor of the forest. The temperature was crisp, the kind of temperature that would be considered ‘sweater weather’ by most. However, to the inhabitants of the forest, it was the true arrival of spring. Warm weather, the spring thaw, and the rushing of the Whitemane river that wound through the towering pines as it swelled with the snowmelt from the high, frosted caps above. Oh yes, Spring had arrived in the Gentle Woods.
The relative silence was broken by the sharp twang of a bowstring, the hum of a flying arrow, and a combined squeak and thump as it found its mark. A clean kill to start the season. The arrow was still quivering, when a massive hoof pulled it, and the speared squirrel, from where it had impacted the tree. Curious eyes observed it, noting that it had pierced through the unfortunate climber’s heart, no suffering. A contented nod, and the huntress slipped the squirrel into a saddlebag of hide that hung at her side.
She stood, a mountain of a mare coated in thick, light blue fur. A cloven hoof rose to push her mane back, eyes scanning the upper levels of foliage for any sign of her next target. There it was. A rather lazy looking raccoon trundling about the branches above her. Her bow was lifted, arrow nocked, as one eye gazed along the length of finely crafted wood and flint. Her own feathers, the result of the last year’s molt, fletched the arrow. She let a breath slip from her nostrils, cavernous chest relaxing as she pulled the string back against the powerful draw of the bow. One last check, and a slight adjustment to lead the unfortunate beast’s path, before another bolt of wooden thunder was unleashed to bring an abrupt end to the hunt’s life.
She walked through the forest, seeking where the animal had fallen. It didn’t take long, before it joined the squirrel in the bag at her side. She cleaned the arrows she used, pursing her lips and giving a long, high whistle. “Ralek? Where are ya? C’mon! Not finding any bigger game here, let’s try over by the Whitem-” Her call was cut off, as the carcass of a rather large doe slammed into the ground before her, followed by the heavy landing of the one she had been calling.
A gryphon. Eye to eye with the imposing sized mare, and armed naturally with an array of claws, talons, and beak that could rend and tear. Or, to be more accurate. Talons for plucking fruits and nuts from the trees, and a beak capable of crushing through the tough shells some of them offered. She deadpanned, levelly looking at the chimera before her, before rolling her eyes. She swore, if beaks were better at showing emotion, he’d have the smuggest smile she’d ever seen. “Fucking showoff…” She muttered, before taking a moment to observe the deer. A clean neck snap, good. She did not enjoy seeing signs of suffrage, and was pleased with Ralek’s skill in taking down prey without prolonging their pain any more than was absolutely necessary.
She reached into one of her unoccupied bags, fishing out a ball of suet, seeds, and honeycomb. “Here.” She said, before tossing it up and watching as his beak snapped shut on the simple, but tasty treat. How he sustained his size on such simple fair she’d never understand. Maybe he was just better at finding them, and more patient when it came to cracking nuts and picking seeds. Either way, that was something she could ponder later. For now, she checked the doe again. “Hmm...were there others around her? A herd?” She asked, looking up at him and waiting. A shake of his head brought a sigh to her lips. “Damn. It’d be nice to pass along the information to the others. With the festival starting tonight, we’re going to need all the meat we can get.”
His response was a soft, trilling chirp. She liked that about him. As long as she’d known the gryphon, and she’d known him since the day he had been brought to their village, he had never been a talker. Well, not in a language she understood. Even with wings, the mare didn’t understand birdspeak. She smiled a bit, standing and stepping to him. One hoof rose to run along the length of his neck, the mare lightly petting her companion. “I know it’s not your favorite, but I’ll make sure the Elders know you killed this, and give you the first cut.” She said, earning another quiet twitter from him. Standing there, she reflected on how the gentle giant had first come to her village.
He had been considered dumb, a savage even by her race’s standards. There was no love lost between the gryphons and the megakolo, so the appearance of once had not been taken to kindly, even if he was young. No one was sure just what had brought him to their lands in the first place. A freak storm, perhaps? A hunt in the woods gone wrong and finding him lost? Or perhaps he had just been exploring? Either way, he had been taken captive, chained in a small hut while the elders discussed what they would do with the accidental visitor.
She was younger then, barely into her teens, and assigned to guard the ‘prisoner’. She wouldn’t have called him that, personally. Prisoner made her think of dangerous enemies and vicious mad equines. This catbird was, well, seemingly harmless. He was armed naturally, but seemed to have no interest in using them. The filly, at the time, had started talking with him. There was a...language, of some sort. One she didn’t understand at all. Though she thought she heard something that sounded like ‘Rail Lick’, or ‘Ralek’. She figured it was his name, and had taken to calling him that. Well, before long, the rest of the village was doing the same.
She had been tasked with caring for him, raising him. They had seen him as a pet of sorts for the young mare, but she had treated him more as an equal. She liked the big gryph’ truth be told. He wasn’t loud, he wasn’t boisterous, and he listened when she explained things. Before long, the two were one of the better hunting teams in the tribe. With his talons and wings, he was able to strike from above, swiftling putting down the larger prey that may not be taken down by one of her arrows, or were too swift for her to chase down with her blade. Meanwhile, she knew where to look, and how to follow the tracks of those they stalked.
Now, her in her mid twenties and him in his...she assumed around the same age? They were a nigh inseparable pair. She lived with him, hunted with him, traveled with him, and on several occasions had gone to battle with him. Others called him her guard dog, or her pet. Truth be told, she didn’t consider him much of a guard. He was usually gentle as could be, their free time split between her attempts to teach him their language, the two of them walking through the woods, and the occasional attempt from the gryphon to sneak into one of the huts containing large sacks of nuts and seeds...those doors had been locked and reinforced.
She smiled a bit, her silent reflection interrupted by a gentle bump from the hunter beside her. The tap of the bridge of his beak against her shoulder bringing the mare, blinking, back to reality. She looked to him giving his neck one more stroke, before setting her hoof back against the forest floor. “We should probably get back to the village with this. The Festival starts at sundown.” Did they really need to get back? Perhaps an hour’s flight with their catches would bring them back to the place they called home. And what was there? Randy stallions in the midst of their rut, bluffing and crowing about their prowess to any mare who may consider flagging her tail for them. She wrinkled her muzzle at the thought of it. She hated how loud it was in the village this time of the year. The Spring Festival of New Life was, without a doubt, the loudest. Well, that could only be expected when every pair of lovers, and many pairs of lusters, gave in to rut and estrus and ensured that next spring would see the arrival of new Megakolo foals. Even now, she had no doubt, several of the huts would be echoing with the passionate moans of hormone driven giants, the males wordlessly competing with those in nearby huts to prove the most skilled, while the mares reaped the rewards of their egotistical attempts.
Uma, for the most part, had not partaken in the festival. There were some years she caved, and allowed a mare to woo her into a night of ‘less than productive’ passion. Most seasons? She wove strands of herbs into her tail to mask the scent of her heat, ignored the incessant itching and pleas from her body, and simply went about the week as if it were any other. Well, any other with the exception of a massive feast each night. Afterall, ensuring the race continued took a lot of strength and energy. She gave a soft sigh, before moving back to the doe. “Well...maybe we don’t need to go back right away, but we should at least butcher your catch and move before we attract anything that won’t be as wary around us.”
It was about an hour later, the kill trussed, gutted, and skinned, when Uma and Ralek arrived on the bank of the Whitemane river. The kill was dropped on the grassy bank, along with Uma’s more ‘meager’ catch, before the two began to wade into the slower moving waters along the shoreline. It was cold, refreshingly so, the water quickly carrying away the dust, mud, and blood from the day. Umi used a wing to scoop and flick water onto Ralek, earning a soft chirp in return as her hooves began working it into his fur and feathers. “I know, I know. But you always manage to get dirt everywhere. What do you do? Roll in it to hide your scent?” The mare shook her head with a soft laugh, before scooping more water over the gryphon’s back to rinse him off. This earned her a look from Ralek as if she had said the most reasonable thing in the world.
She just gave a roll of her eyes and began wading back to shore, giving him a soft click of her tongue to summon the gryph after her. He followed, dutifully, eyes briefly tracing a few odd, leafy bundles down the river. He didn’t pay too much mind to them, however. He soon joined Uma on the shore of the Whitemane, the mare giving his headfeathers a gentle ruffle and coaxing another relaxed chirp from him. Content that they were both good and cleaned,she found a patch of grass to lay herself in, letting the sun above warm her coat and dry the rest of the water from her pelt. Ralek, meanwhile, clambered onto a sun warmed rock, circled several times, and settled down with his tail lazily draped across his forelegs. Umi idly mused that it must have been the cat half of him.
With a shrug, the massive mare turned in the sunny patch, looking over the river before her and lapsing into a thoughtful, reserved silence. She was Uma Stale, a daughter of the Gentle Woods, and slated to become a priestess in time. And yet, at the same time, she was ‘that mare who won’t put out’ and ‘the one without a mate’. Several of the village elders had said she wasn’t fulfilling her obligations to the tribe, but was that true? She gave a soft, irritated snort. Her obligation to the tribe had to be more than pumping out foals. Blowing a soft breath from her lips, she idly dwelled on that question while working to ignore the nagging heat between her hind legs. What was her ‘obligation to the tribe’?
So busy was she with the issue at hoof, that she didn’t notice her accomplice moving closer and closer, eyes drawn to the swaying strands of blue hair that made up her tail. Ralek may not have known what was floating down the river earlier, but Uma would have thrown herself into the rushing waters had she noticed. The bundles of herbs, usually so meticulously woven through her tail at this time of the year, had worked free and gone floating off down the Whitemane. Unfortunately for the mare, this left the scent of her heat free to waft through the small glade, only helped along by the idle sway of her tail. This, naturally, drew the attention of the near feral gryphon who had been sunning himself nearby. Nares drew in air, drinking in the heady scent of estrus unbridled by herbal blocks, and drawing the equal sized griff over with all the natural grace of the predator.
Uma’s quiet thoughts were interrupted in two parts. First was something moving her tail aside with a near practiced flip, the second was the long drag of a tongue directly across her sodden mound, drawing a sharp gasp and a quick scramble from the mare. There were several words as well, most of which would have made the most staunch warrior blush, as she wheeled to face whatever unfortunate soul had been so bold as...to...Ralek. She felt her hurried, adrenaline fueled breathing slow, her expression changing from rage, to confusion as she looked at the equally confused griff before her. “Ralek?”
She watched as he moved closer, talons leaving small divots in the ground as he padded around her. His eyes seemed...different. More feral even. Pupils narrowed to slits, and beak aiming for the treat that had been pulled away from his tongue. She understood now, as her eyes caught sight of a blue tail, unmarred by the green flashes of herbal weaves. Shit. “Ralek, hey.” She said softly, wheeling to try and stay face to shoulder with the circling gryphon. “Listen to me. Come on now.” She murmured, reaching out to touch his shoulder, and earning a soft chirp in return, before a soft clack of his beak was given. He was still circling though, and there was something else. A flash of lighter purple among the grey fur of his underbelly.
Oh no. She didn’t need to be an expert in gryphon anatomy to know what that was. With a swallow, she fought her instincts and clamped her tail down as firmly as she could. “Ralek.” She spoke, more firmly. For a moment, his eyes flicked to her own gaze, a slight sense of understanding there for a moment. Oh good, he was mostly there. “Ralek, listen to me. Go back to your rock.” She watched as he hesitated, seemingly torn between doing as she said, and the instinct screaming for him to return to where he had been. In a compromise, he simply settled onto his haunches before her, a clack of the beak and soft chirp his response. And there it was, framed by his forelegs.
She felt her eyes drawn to it, hormones fighting against willpower to drag her gaze down and down between his furred thighs. There wasn’t much exposed yet, only the hint of what was to come. The tapered tip of a purple, gryphon shaft had swelled from a dark grey, soft fleshed sheath. A flash of color among grey and tan that was near impossible to miss, and impossible to mistake. Uma swallowed, sitting down much like he had and trying to think. “Okay, okay…” Well, this was awkward. Her friend, the one most in her tribe considered a pet was currently fairly intent on breeding her, she assumed. It was a bit easy to infer, given his demeanor, and the fact that he had dragged his tongue across the source of her scent. She shifted her haunches, feeling several blades of grass tickle her thighs. That tongue. She had never noticed it before. Dexterous, warm...and long. By the Wildfire, she was sure it had covered her folds completely when he tasted her. A single, sharp fang pinched her lower lip, the mare giving a near desperate shake of her head. No. No. She couldn’t afford to think like this. He was, well, what? He was her friend, her constant companion.
Logic and hormones competed in a debate of mass proportions as she thought it all over. He was her closest friend, one she had grown close to in return. He had never shown an interest like this before, but that might just be her scent. But on the other hoof, he was kinder than any of the stallions back home. But it was taboo. The village would never allow such a thing. But was she not just mentally complaining about the village’s ways? Well, she had been, but by going against them she had imagined not taking a mate, rather than laying with a gryphon. Were they even compatible? She could roll the dice...she should roll the dice. Afterall, he was the nicest male she knew, and she had teased him accidentally with her scent. But at the same time, he was a gryphon, and not one considered intelligent by the rest of the village? What would they say? Did she care what they said?
She looked down again, noting several more inches had slipped free, revealing a more ‘unique’ aspect to Ralek’s endowment. The underbelly of his shaft boasted a line of ridges, covering where the bulge of a stallion’s cum vein would have been on an equine shaft. She furrowed her brow, confused, intrigued, and perhaps a little more desperate for it. And then came his scent. Like a hammer to the wall the rational side of her brain had put up, the musk coming from Ralek’s groin assaulted her nose, reinforcing her own hormone driven thoughts in their fight against logic and common sense. Well, maybe she could get closer. “Ralek. Lay against the rock.” She said almost meekly, giving in to urges and desire.
The megakolo mare guided the gryphon to the rock he had been lazing on, helping lay him back against the warm stone, and leaving his underbelly completely exposed. “Just...just stay still.” She said, one hoof gently pressing on his chest, as her gaze dragged back down. She took in a full, unabashed look at what her closest friend was showing. She felt her tail flag on instinct, eyes glued to the lighter purple of his cock before drifting to the grey flesh of his sheath and the grey fuzz covered swell of his balls. Well, they looked at least Megakolo sized, maybe even a little bigger. Had he ever gotten off? She couldn’t remember ever seeing or hearing him do so. A wince passed through her as her hormone driven mind came to a final decision. Even she got off after a stressful time. She could only imagine how stressed he was right now, and it was because of her. So it was only right that she helped him out, right? Nodding, she dragged the cloven tip of her hoof down his chest feathers, across the meeting of feather and fur, and across his belly.
Slowly, the massive mare lowered herself to her belly between Ralek’s thighs, looking up at him before speaking again. “I can trust you’ll stay quiet about this, right?” She asked, before leaning the broad tip of her muzzle in to take a slow breath of his musk again. She almost snorted, the near spicy level of musk that seemed to fill the air between his leonine legs very nearly burning her nose with the sheer impact of it. While her nose may not have agreed with it, her body certainly did, wings ruffling up as her tail flagged to the side in an instinctive request to be bred by the source of the heady scent. No, she told herself, she couldn’t let it go that far. Oral. That was it.
She nodded, confident she’d be able to hold out that much before she finally let her head dip down. No sense in putting it off any longer, right? Her tongue pressed to the gryph’s sheath, flattening against the flesh before dragging upwards. Her brow furrowed, as she found the ridges to be rather flesh-like in texture, and able to lift slightly. Curious. She let her tongue drag fully to his tip, surprised yet again as a jet of syrup thick precum launched from the tapered tip to paint a line through her mane. Oh. She paused, taking a moment to just take in what she was doing. She was about to blow a gryphon, a dumb beast her village would have said. No, she was sharing an intimate moment with her best friend. That sounded much better. She gazed back up at him, smiling gently before her lips sealed around the crown of his cock, wrapping around the dusky flesh just above where the ridges started. She caught the next splatter of pre across her tongue, surprised at both volume and viscosity as her tastebuds were assaulted by the raw scent of a virile male.
By the Wildfire, she had been with mares in the past, but never had more contact with males much past seeing them unsheathed in day to day life and past spring festivals. Her wings ruffled again, her mind awash in hormones and the need for more. She lifted a hoof to cup his sack, feeling the fuzzy weight of his nuts against her frog as she began bobbing her head shallowly. She was new to this, taking her time to explore the hybrid while ensuring that imposing muzzle full of teeth didn’t even come close to brushing the pre dribbling spire between her lips. She was pleased that he seemed to be behaving for the most part, as well. A glance up saw his talons curled over his chest, and a partially parted beak with the start of that magnificently long tongue hanging from it.
Uma took a moment to prepare herself, before starting to dip her head lower and lower with each new descent, feeling the fleshy ridges of Ralek’s prick slip past her lips before pulling slightly each time they left the warm confines of her maw. One, two, three, four, and then her lips met with the warm flesh of his sheath. It wasn’t until now that Ralek started seeming a little restless, a soft chirp leaving his beak followed by several clicks. He seemed almost concerned, looking down at the mare who had raised and cared for him for so long. She looked down too, seeing the fleshy sides of his sheath bulging slightly with some unseen addition to what was already in her muzzle. Pulling off with a soft suckle to clean him of his own precum, she pressed her hooves to each side of his sheath and gave a look up at him. She wasn’t an expert in male anatomy, much less male gryphons, but she knew that it couldn’t be comfortable like that. Maintaining eye contact, she pushed down on the flesh gently, feeling the smooth skin slip down and down, as two thick lobes were exposed. Uma turned her gaze down, eyes widening slightly as they came into sight. Three more ridges had been revealed before they ended in a slight valley between two swollen lobes of flesh that seemed to make up nearly a third of the gryp’s overall cock length. She paused, as his sheath was brought to the base of Ralek’s shaft, bunched up slightly under the still incomplete swell of his knot. “Wow.”
Uma had to take a moment to just observe. Her hooves gripped against the sides of his knot, holding Ralek’s shaft straight up while she looked it over. She wasn’t sure what half of the features were, or what they would even feel like...and she had absolutely no intent of finding out just what they were for. Stallions looked simple by comparison. A tube with a couple additions. No tapers, no swells, no ridges, and certainly no literal spurts of precum reaching several inches above the spade shaped tip of their cock to dribble down and make a mess of the hooves holding it upright.
With another deep intake of musky air, the mare leaned in to take him back into her muzzle. She didn’t waste time now, dipping down until the tip prodding the back of her throat drew a light gag from her. Too deep! She coughed, but refused to pull off, instead bobbing her head more shallowly, feeling six of the seven ridges slip past her lips to fill the warm cavern of her maw. That seemed to be her limit, and so she started drawing her head back and forth, slowly blowing the prone gryphon under the warm rays of the spring sun. She seemed content in it, feeling each new thick splatter of precum coat her tongue and the roof of her muzzle before swallowing it down as best she could. It was thick, by the Wildfire it was thick. She almost had trouble managing it at her current pace. But the taste. It was intoxicating in a way, driving her natural instincts into overdrive. Taste, scent, feel, and the look of it. It was nearing a perfect storm, and only needed one other component.
It was given, as she felt the gryph move slightly. One talon pressed to the back of her head, keeping her secured around his shaft as Ralek wriggled onto his paws. What was he doing? She wondered, before those powerful leonine hips tense, before driving down into her muzzle. A surprised gag left the mare as he did, tip pressed firm to the back of her throat and even into the gripping confines of her esophagus as her lips met with the slightly swollen lobes of his knot. She struggled for a half moment, before she was forced to take him again and again, her closest friend using her muzzle like a personal dummy mount. The talons on her head teased just under her mane, wordlessly dominating the barbaric mare, much to her surprise. There it was, a dominating aspect that worked with his scent, taste, and the feel of his ridges rolling across her tongue to finally break her resolve. Uma gave in, tail pulling fully to the side as her estrus mingled with the potent scent of Ralek’s musk to set the field alight with the raunchy scent of sex.
She let him keep using her muzzle, feeling the smooth flesh pass over lips and tongue before tugging back with several ridges popping free in a welter of pre, saliva, and throat slime to coat her thin and hang in thick strands that nearly reached the grass below before breaking. It was getting harder to swallow now, the constant poking to the back of her throat and the shear viscosity of Ralek’s pre giving the massive mare quite a task, and one she was actually not doing too well at. Her stretched lips dripped with the sticky precum, strands swaying slightly with her own body as she was rocked slightly under the massive gryph. Her worries were soon on what would happen before long, if his pre-cum was this sticky, what would his actual climax be like? She had seen stallions climax at past festivals, and if Ralek’s load was anywhere near as big, she was going to be in trouble, especially if it was as thick or even thicker. That and his near feral treatment of her actually caused a knot of tension to form in her belly. Perhaps it was aided slightly by heat driven desire to see it go somewhere else instead?
She didn’t have much time to consider that, as she felt the barbs against her tongue start to flare up, growing a little firmer and rubbing the smooth expanse of warm muscle. If that was anything like a stallion flaring, she had to stop him and fast! A massive hoof pressed into his thigh, feeling thick banded muscles flex against her as she shoved back. Ralek seemed to understand somewhat, pulling back slowly until each ridge had slipped free and a final splatter of precum had splashed against her tongue. A curious clatter of his beak was given as Uma pulled out from under him, brushing aside the talon that had been on her mane. She was relieved to see his eyes had normalized, slightly, though a look of confusion had replaced feral desire. Underneath him, the spit and pre slicked length of his shaft throbbed, splattering the grass in another thick rope of lubricant.
“I just...fuck, one sec.” She managed, panting in deep breaths of slightly less musky air, her teeth bridged with slick bridges of precum, each one dripping slowly from upper teeth to lower, before rolling down her jaws. The mare raised a hoof to wipe some of it away, grimacing as it clung to her hoof and drew a shimmering bridge from chin to hoof. One foot, nearly two feet before gravity finally won out and snapped the fluid to splatter it against the ground below. “By the Wildfire, you were going to choke me with this shit. I can’t have you finishing in my muzzle.” She said, her tone almost apologetic. She whipped her hoof back and forth a bit, trying to dispell the last of it, before turning to look at the river. Maybe she should go use some w-ahh~!
She jumped, as Ralek’s tongue dragged along her once more, smearing her nethers in saliva and gathering up a heavy taste of her pheromone laced arousal. His beak yawned wide open, letting every inch of his tongue slip free to roll and press to Uma’s cunt, drawing a low moan and a shiver from her massive form. There it was, the breaking point. She forgot about the water, about washing up. She forgot the village’s plan for her, the danger, the risk, she forgot who was behind her and only knew that she needed them in her. The long battle between hormones and logic was over, and hormones ruled the roost. The silken strands of her tail lifted and flagged to the side, bearing her to the sunlight and the eager gryphon tongue. Darker blue than her fur, Uma’s nethers glistened with her arousal, and Ralek’s saliva. Each drag of his tongue along her drew another low moan from the mare while filling the gryphon’s senses. Her taste coated his tongue, her scent stuffed his nares, and her willingly flagged tail told his instinctive mind all it needed. She was his.
She wasn’t sure, but she had an inkling that Ralek was savoring this, taking his time in dragging his tongue along her over and over again, each pass parting her slightly to reveal the light pink flesh that had been hidden to all save a few mares for a quarter of a century. It was his now. Uma knew it, and he seemed to know it too as inch after dexterous inch of Ralek’s tongue sunk into the clenching confines of her sex. The mare felt each new inch, each curious prod, each slip and rub into her walls, and each hot puff of Ralek’s breath against the arousal and saliva coated lips of her nethers. Not even the other mares were this good, and it left her a little short on breath, not to mention words much past quiet gasps and moans of the massive forest gryph orally laid claim to her heated passage.
She pressed her hooves into the damp grass, the water from her still damp coat having left the blades glistening with a light sheen of moisture, and that was nothing to say for the various other fluids that had dripped into the swaying stalks as well. Her arousal, Ralek’s pre, both of their saliva, they all combined to leave the footing a little tricky in spots, not to mention flooding the little glade in the heady reek of heat, arousal, and sex. Uma’s hips pushed back, working until she felt the edges of her near feral lover’s beak press into the slightly more yielding flesh of her rump. At the same time, she fancied she could feel the tip of his tongue brushing against the innermost barrier within her. She certainly hadn’t expected his tongue to reach quite that far! And it stayed there for some time, rolling and pressing with nearly enough pressure to cause a small knot of pleasurable discomfort to form deep in her belly.
Almost as quickly as he had pushed in, Ralek was pulling back, Uma giving a shivering moan as he did. Her walls clenched ineffectively at the slick, pink muscle as it withdrew, instinct driving her to try and keep him inside. Why was he already pulling back?? What she wasn’t aware of was that Ralek had been ‘probing’ her, seeking for the remnants of any competitor’s seed to scoop out and replace with his own. Afterall, there was no point to taking her, in his feral mind, if she was already with another’s chick. Had Uma been aware of that, she might not have been quite so surprised when the warmth of her companion’s dexterous tongue left her completely, only to be replaced by the sudden weight of the gryphon landing atop her haunches. Her head shot up, ears perking as she looked back at him. He wasn’t heavy, no, but that wasn’t her concern at the moment. What was her concern was the warm splash of viscous precum that painted a line of musky goo along her inner thigh, and the slight scrabbling of his talons as the near equal sized bird tried to mount her.
She opened her muzzle to say something, second thoughts starting to creep into the back of her mind. The village. If they found out, what would happen? Would Ralek be taken? Would she be exiled? Would they both be put to the blade for potentially sullying the bloodline of the Megakolo? She was about to speak, before the sharp nip of pointed beak against her scruff silenced her again. “Ralek…” She barely whispered, though it seemed enough to get the bird’s attention. He leaned over her as much as he could, leonine hinds prancing slightly on the ground as he got closer to her. She felt another splatter of heady, musky precum splatter directly against her spit slicked nethers this time, a trill running along her spine as her wings unfurled slightly. Fuck the village. She turned her head forward again, lowering it slightly to expose her scruff to him once more. Her tail twitched, silken hairs pulling up and to the side to bear her fully to the gryphon atop her. This was it. She felt a soft touch, the hard surface of Ralek’s beak running across her neck in a manner that was almost intimate. He clicked it softly near her ear, almost reassuringly, before gripping her scruff once more. She steeled herself, hooves moving slightly as her hind legs spread, and her forelegs worked to keep a steady base on the damp ground below. She panted with quiet anticipation as his talons gripped her hips, each exhale and inhale flooding her senses with even more of Ralek’s potent musk. This was it. She swallowed, jaws parting slightly with her next pant to reveal the still sticky strands that were the result of her oral work.
There was a baited silence, broken only by the wide pads of Ralek’s paws ruffling through the grass as he found his own base. There were several quick, sharp jabs forward, the pointed tip of the gryph’s cock smearing sticky trails of pre through the fur on her rump, along her thighs, and even along her belly briefly. For a moment, Uma considered helping him somehow, reaching back or trailing a wing back but then she felt it. The spade shaped crown of Ralek’s length found her slicked cunt, barely a moment of hesitation given before he shoved forward, spearing into her as smoothly as one could hope. The massive mare’s head laid back as a long, throaty moan was ripped free of her throat. She felt her walls part, bulled apart by the invading shaft as inch after steadily thicker inch was forced into her. She could feel each new ridge sink into her, feel the way his tip started wedging her walls wide before the steady advance forced her even wider. She figured he was about as thick as a stallion at the max...and that wasn’t counting the odd lobes she had felt before.
And speaking of, those same swells were soon pressed against her entrance, straining her slowly open further and further until first one set and then the other sunk into her. She winced at that, having never taken something thicker than a tongue or some select toys other mares had shared with her. Each lobe was at least the width of a fully flared stallion, it seemed, and she would have been lying if she said there wasn’t any ache to accompany it. But it was a good pain, one that drove her body to higher heights of pleasure. From the firm press of his slightly more pliable tip against her cervix, to the newfound feeling of her body being spread by Ralek’s knot, it was a near sensory overload for the sexually inexperienced mare. And this was only the start! She winced slightly, as Ralek’s talons dug into her hips slightly, holding her with a surprising amount of force as he tugged back, freeing the lobes of his knot in a welter of Uma’s arousal that flecked his lower belly, sack, and her rump and thighs in the beginnings of their full lust.
Uma was almost caught off guard by Ralek’s next thrust, the gryphon hardly giving her time to get used to him, before he began throwing himself against her with all the grace and intimacy of the near feral beast he was. And who could blame him? Uma knew what this was. It wasn’t sex, it wasn’t making love, this was fucking. Primal, estrus driven rut that had one and only one goal. To see Ralek finish and sow a new life deep inside the mare who had taken care of him for so long. Were they even compatible like that? Uma pondered that for a brief moment before the next heavy shove of Ralek’s hips forced his knot into her again, fuzzed sack slapping into her clit with an electric jolt of pleasure before a sting of pain as he tugged free again. Slowly, steadily, each plunge into Uma ground the ridged underbelly of his cock into the floor of her tunnel, before the thick swell of his knot mashed down into her g-spot, drawing a cry of pleasure from her lips. And on the pull back? Each ridge ground and rubbed into her channel, stimulating the mare to levels she had never imagined in the past. Each tug also drew more of their arousals free, the mix slowly growing more and more heavily imbued with Ralek’s precum, sticky strands forming between his groin and her rump as their lustful fuck continued.
Panting, Uma felt another shiver run along her spine, wings fully flared out as she weathered the continued assault on her senses, feeling each one grow a shorter and shorter distance apart. Something was coming, and she knew it. Her legs grew slightly wobbly as she felt her first climax rushing headlong towards her. However, what happened next caught both lovers off guard. Ralek’s next thrust was near powerful enough to see him leave his paws, slamming into the mare with all the force of his powerful frame. This met with her weakened stance, and the slightly damp grass to pitch Uma forward onto her chest with a sharp yelp of surprise. She landed with an ‘oof’, forehooves stuck under her and her taboo lover still atop her. There was a moment’s pause broken only by the sharp panting of both parties, and then Ralek was right back at it.
If anything, he was even more eager now, more dominant, more driven. His talons left her hips, leaving welts and small pricks under her fur as he took a more steady base. One clawed hand pressed into the loamy ground, as the other planted itself between Uma’s wings, pinning the mare firmly into the grass. She gasped, shivering as his beak took up her scruff again. This. This was it, true domination by a male who had taken her, chosen her, and was now marking her as his. One foreleg worked free, clawing a long furrow in the grass before them as her body was wracked with pleasure, her moans growing louder and louder as the gryph resumed his heavy thrusts. This new position, she felt as if her g-spot was being absolutely assaulted by each barb, each grind of his knot, the angle forcing her partner to almost dig into the tender spot with each sharp thrust downward. She started realizing now that his knot was starting to swell as well, the flare width lobes were distinctly larger now, Ralek working harder to pull back each time.
She felt the gryph’s beak leave her neck, instead rocking back and forth over her as he threw more weight into each thrust. Hot pants blew across the back of her neck and across the grass, the cool blades soon beading with condensation as the worked up beast drew closer and closer. The damp slap of their bodies grew less frequent as Ralek fought for each new knotting and pull, Uma wincing and crying out and rapturous pleasure as she felt the teetering brink of something massive. The final straw came as her near feral lover threw himself forward once more, knot bulling past her entrance with all the grace of a run away freight car. His next tug back yielded...nothing. His knot had finally swollen too large to pull free of the clenching grip of her cunt. This seemed to awaken something, to open the final lock in Ralek’s mind. Talons dug into her back slightly as the massive hybrid fucked /his/ mare with short, heavy thrusts. The ridges along his length’s underbelly firming and flaring up, grinding heavily into her walls as his knot finally reached it’s full size. Uma panted, whispering as she felt her body forced to stretch in a way that not even a Megakolo stallion could manage. It was simply his name over and over, each repetition growing louder and louder, jolted from her muzzle with each clap of groin against upturned, knotted hips. And then she broke. She cried his name out, body spasming several times before a near constant shiver ran up and down her form. She had never cum like this before, never even known a mare could feel this level of pleasure. Fuck tongues, fuck hooves, fuck toys. This was the pinnacle of it all, the straw that drove her fertile form into overdrive, forced it to demand what it craved from the male atop her.
Ralek had never let her down before, and he didn’t this time either. His wings flared fully in a display of raw, masculine power, his hips slamming down into her own once more to mash his tip into the barrier to her womb. The fertile chamber was staring down the barrel of a ridged and knotted canon, and from what Uma had seen earlier, she knew he wasn’t packing anything less than a full set of munitions. Ralek threw back his head, unleashing what could only be described as a lion’s roar as he unleashed elsewhere. Uma felt it, a heavy, pressurized jet of gryphon spunk that absolutely blasted her cervix, flooding into her womb in rope after thick, sticky rope of fertile cum. She had worried about how thick his climax would be, and she’d find that out soon enough. Each new splatter of Ralek’s climax would have been more than enough to impregnate a mare, each rope putting his precum to shame in thickness and stickiness. Her womb was absolutely flooded, and hardly any seemed to be backwashing yet, clinging and coating her walls until she felt bloated and near uncomfortably full, and still it washed into her. The thick knot damming her walls ensured none escaped as her ‘mate’ put most stallions to shame with sheer volume. Uma knew what this meant, knew what would come of this if there was even a fraction of a chance they could breed. It was one egg alone against millions upon millions, or even billions, of wriggling sperm hunted for their goal.
By the time Ralek’s climax finished, and he was reduced to panting hot breaths over the back of the mare’s neck, Uma felt as if another spurt would have broken the firm dam of knot and cunt and sent thick arcs splattering into the grass. But no, it held, and Ralek held himself over her. Uma, for the most part, was starting to reboot her brain, her senses and functions coming back to her as the cloud of hazy pleasure passed from her mind and left her a sweat dampened, panting mess. Her mane was a mess, her tongue could still taste Ralek, and her hind end was already growing sore with a sort of post breeding ache that said both ‘job well done’ and ‘start eating for two’. She turned her head, finally, meeting the feral gaze of the gryphon. “Ralek…” She whispered, greeted with a lowering of that deadly beak. She met him when he was close enough, her lips pursed as she gently pressed a kiss to the side of his beak. That was it. A quiet clack of his beak was given along with a soft chirp as his talon left her back. She winced as she felt the tips of each claw pull free, leaving several shallow wounds along her back. Well, it wasn’t any worse than a bite from one of her tribe’s stallions… The gryphon stood tall over her, her rump anchored in the air by the tugging seal of his knot for the moment. Now, now it was finally time for some worry to creep back into her mind.
The lustful, eager part of her brain that had spurred this all on was retreating, leaving her mind free to realize she had just fucked a near feral beast. And yet? She didn’t seem to care. A small, goofy grin formed on her muzzle, as she panted. She wasn’t sure how long they’d be anchored together, but she figured it would be some time, given the sheer size of the organ spreading her at that moment. Damn...they were going to be late at this rate.
The shadows of the trees nearly reached her by the time Ralek stirred. One heavy talon planted itself on her rump, holding the mare down as he tugged backwards. Uma gave a low, slightly pained whine as she felt her marehood stretch and spread, an achingly slow pull of each knot squeezing free of her to meet the cooler air of the meadow. Wet pops and saturated slurps filled the air as Ralek slowly pulled himself free fully, cock dragging thick ropes of cum with it, bridging shaft and gaped pussy as he stepped back, the gryphon nearly two steps or more away before they splattered into her fur and the grass. And so Uma was left there, chest in the grass, ass in the air, spread and gaping cunt barely even dribbling any of the prolific load dumped deep inside her. She watched Ralek, still a little hesitant to move, as he moved a distance away and sat down. One hind leg raised, giving her a prime view of the dark purple flesh of his cock, each ridge coated in dripping strands of spunk and the lobes of his knot glazed in the same fluids, Ralek leaned down. His tongue lolled from his muzzle, that incredible length coiling and rolling around the flesh of his pride as he cleaned himself off. Uma swore for a moment that he almost looked accomplished or proud. Well, she couldn’t blame him. He had done what males were built to do, and now he was just making sure he was clean and ready for the next time.
Speaking of clean...she slowly pushed herself to her hooves, wincing at the sore stretch of the muscles in her hind end, and the tingle of a foreleg that had been lain on for far too long. Several wobbly steps were taken as the freshly bred mare made for the river to clean up. It was here she found out her suspicions had been confirmed. Her hoof’s swipe across her still slightly spread sex revealed a thick, sticky smear of heady scented spunk, coating her frog in a thick layer of off white. Grimacing, she started working to clean herself off. She scrubbed her coat, washed her mane, and made several trips south in an attempt to clean the fur around her cunt of the near gel-thick seed. She swore each time she got it mildly acceptable, another bit managed to dribble free. She deadpanned, shrugging as she accepted it as a result of her choices. Stepping from the river, she shook herself off and whistled for the gryphon, rolling his eyes as his head finally pulled away from a cock that had been cleaned five minutes before. Males.
Meeting him near their kills, she stroked along his feathered neck, speaking softly. “I don’t know what happens next.” She admitted, a slight knot of worry forming deep in her gut, before she straightened up. She was a daughter of the forest, and she’d face whatever came next as such. Nodding, she hefted the meat they had harvested, wings spread as she took to the air, her new mate following her.
It was months later that saw Uma looking up at the craggy rock cliff face of one of the mountains that hemmed in the gentle Woods, eyes on the pass hidden far up among the peaks. Well, she had said she’d take whatever came next with the same determination and vigor that her race put forth into everything they did. Looking down, past her saddlebags, one hoof rose to touch the wide swell of her belly, the warrior mare giving a soft sigh. Flying was going to suck. She glanced back up, before giving a high whistle.
High above, a familiar head poked from behind a pile of small rocks and medium sized boulders. A chirping whistle was returned before the gryphon took half running half gliding path down to land heavily beside her. “Having fun?” She asked, glancing at him with a slight level of annoyance. “Ya know a good father would help carry his mate’s stuff, especially when they’re being kicked out of their home.” She said, her statement met with a canted head and a curious look. Damn it, she couldn’t be mad at that face. Smiling, she leaned in to kiss the side of his beak again, before spreading her wings. “You’ll go slow so I can keep up, right?” She asked, before heavy beats of the powerful sails brought her higher and higher into the air. Ralek was quick to join her, unburdened save materials they needed for their travels. Uma reflected as they rose higher towards the pass.
Banishment, exile, excommunication. All three had been used in her sentence, the mare cast from her native lands for what she had done. And what had she done? Taken a beast as a mate, allowed her body to be sullied with the filthy seed of a gryphon, and seemed fine with it all! There had even been murmurings of execution for the both of them, though cooler heads prevailed thankfully. The two instead had been told they were to leave as the storms and heavy winds of summer finally passed by and fall began, and so they had. Armed with a crude map, skins to keep them warm at night, rations to take them a fair distance south, and Uma’s armor and weapons, they had set out. Well, almost all her weapons. Her axe was her family’s heirloom...she was no longer part of her family, and the relic had stayed behind in the empty hut she had once called home. That, truth be told, had stung most of all.
She blinked, pretending that the bit of moisture in the corner of her eye was due to the wind this high before she looked to Ralek. He was watching her, tail whipping slightly as he chirped a concerned note to her. “I’m fine, I’m fine.” She reassured him, before pulling the map out and reading it over. “We go through this pass, and just make for the south. It’s a lot of nothing and more nothing until we get to…” She squinted her eyes. “Equestrian?” She murmured, before shrugging. “As good a place for a new start as any, right?” She asked, before looking to him. Ralek’s response was just, well, another warbling chirp. “You’re learning a language when we get there, I swear to the Wildfire…”
END
Author's Note
Another quick, smutty fic written as a gift for a friend. This one actually has an accompanying picture! Head on over to ralek.art to see it!
