Involuntary Voyeur

When class was out, Sandbar trotted back off to his dorm room, intent on finding his friend.

He knocked on the door and was greeted with a yell back. “Just a sec!” He heard some shuffling and then the door bolt unlock and the door inched open. “Oh, it’s you. Give me just a sec?” Sandbar nodded. The door shut and the earth pony heard the creaking of a bed. “Come in!” the griffon called.

Sandbar pushed the door open. Gallus was sitting in bed, the blanket up to his chest. “Hey,” the earth pony said, “you missed Applejack’s class. Everything okay?”

“Oh!” Gallus said. “Yeah, sure, I’m fine.”

“So… you coming to Creatures and Critters?”

“Uh, nah, I can’t actually go right now.”

“But you’re feeling okay?” the earth pony asked, some concern creeping into his tone.

“Feeling great, just, uh, indisposed.”

The earth pony gave him a confused look.

“It’s a griffon thing.”

“Okay,” Sandbar replied with a small frown. “Well, you let me know if you need anything, alright?”

“Sure, Sandbar.” The griffon smiled. “Thanks.”

The earth pony walked out the door, and Gallus counted to twenty before he jumped out of bed and flipped the lock shut. Gallus knew it had been stupid to jerk off just before class—no way he could go to class with a raging, knotted dick hanging from his pouch. His knot had just been starting to go down before the earth pony came back. Stupid pony. Gallus had to admit, Sandbar was kind of cute, in a weird, round, pony kind of way. The fact that Sandbar had cared enough to come check on him filled Gallus with an unfamiliar, fuzzy feeling. It was like the feeling he felt when surrounded by his new friends, but heightened. Warmer, maybe? It was confusing.

One thing that didn’t confuse him was the the stiffness of his cock. Now that he was fully hard again, he was definitely going to miss Professor Fluttershy’s class. May as well go for a second round.

After skipping most of his classes and getting off three times, Gallus was mentally and physically exhausted. And emotionally conflicted. That was an unusual space for a griffon to find himself, so he decided to seek some wisdom from the school’s guidance counselor. Once his knot went down again.

After a few minutes he finally managed to get himself back into his sheath. He snuck off to the restroom and thoroughly toweled himself down with a soapy rag, getting the musky smell of his cum out of his fur and feathers. Once he was satisfied the mess was gone, or at least obscured, he straightened his crest, preening in the mirror, pulling each feather this way and that until they were all aligned perfectly. Taking one last look at himself in profile, he nodded to his reflection. He looked good. He flapped his wings and took off towards the counselor’s office down on this lowest floor. He landed softly on the ground and knocked on Starlight Glimmer’s door.

“Come in,” the pleasant voice welcomed him in. As the griffon entered her room, the purple mare looked up from a book and blinked, trying, but failing, to hide her surprise. “Oh, Gallus! What can I do for you today?”

“I-” the griffon started to reply, then paused, trying to think of a way he could phrase his trouble. “I was hoping you could help me with something.”

“Yeees,” the mare drawled, a small smirk forming at one corner of her mouth. “That is what I’m here for.”

“Sorry,” Gallus said. He huffed and shook out his tail feathers. “I’m not used to this kind of thing.”

“When in Ponyville, do as the ponies do, eh?” Starlight replied.

“I suppose.” Gallus frowned and decided to take the direct approach. “Is it weird if I’m attracted to someone of another species?”

Starlight pursed her lips, then shook herself, as she seemed to realize the gesture might be misinterpreted. “Unusual, certainly. I’m not sure I’m one to judge if something is ‘weird,’ though.” She shrugged.

“How do you mean?”

“I once enslaved an entire village of ponies and used magic to take their special talents from them.”

Gallus gaped. “And they made you a counselor?”

“Oh,” Starlight dismissed it with a wave of her hoof. “That was ages ago. Years, at least.”

“Years,” the griffon echoed quietly.

“But anyway, back to you!” Starlight said cheerily. “I don’t see any problems. It’s probably not illegal, so as long as you’re not forcing yourself on anypony you should be fine.”

“Wait,” Gallus held up a claw to stop the mare. “Probably not illegal?”

Starlight shrugged. “I’m not big on other ponies’ rules anyway. Go have fun—take her on a date. I’m sure you’ll find something fun to do.”

Gallus cleared his throat. “Him.”

Starlight blinked several times quickly. “Oh. Oh!” She smiled wryly. “You’d think I, of all ponies, wouldn’t make that sort of assumption.” She gestured to the two large portraits on opposite sides of the room. Both were detailed images of a blue unicorn mare in a ridiculous pointed hat. “Let’s just say there are several of us here at the school who have similar leanings.”

Gallus smiled as he understood her meaning. Here he had been thinking ponies were all prim and proper, but if the guidance counselor was rolling in the hay with another mare, maybe there was hope that Sandbar wouldn’t be scared off by a gay griffon.

Sandbar walked into the head mare’s office. “Princess Twilight?”

“Please,” the alicorn replied, as she stepped away from her desk, “just Twilight.”

“Oh, okay. Um, Miss Twilight, I was hoping you had some books on griffons.”

“Oh, of course!” the princess said with a smile. “I’m so glad to see you wanting to learn more about other species. You’ve really done a superlative job becoming friends with so many other students. And it seems you and Gallus have really hit it off, becoming friends so quickly. I assume that’s the source of your interest?”

Sandbar nodded, and felt his cheeks warm. “I’m interested in learning more about their, you know, culture, food…”

Their anatomy.

Sandbar shook his head, ignoring where that thought was leading him.

Twilight fluttered upwards and swept over towards a shelf on the far wall. “Hmm,” she said while tapping a hoof to her chin. “There’s Redmane’s History of Griffonstone, but that’s more legend than fact.” She swooped down to another shelf. “Ah, here.” She pulled a purple volume from the shelf. “Swiftwing’s Strange Creatures.” She frowned. “Something of a throwback now, I suppose, since I wouldn’t consider any of our students ‘strange.’ Still,” she considered, weighing the book in her hooves, “it does go into some good detail on griffons, among other species. There’s even a few decent illustrations if I remember right.” The alicorn floated back to the earth and handed the book to Sandbar. “Spike will check the book out to you. Do take care of it. That’s an early edition, and they’re quite rare nowadays.”

“Of course, Princess—er, Miss Twilight.”

“Goodness!” The alicorn said, not really addressing the other pony, “just imagine how much we’re going to learn about all other species with students here at the school.” Her wings popped out and she floated back to her desk, still talking to herself. “Ooh, if only I had more time to dedicate to research instead of designing curriculum!”

Sandbar took the book back to the front of the room, where the small dragon sat, flipping through a comic book. Spike snapped the thin volume shut and pulled out a large scroll. “Sandbar, right?” he said. “Book’s due back in two weeks.” He pulled a quill out of an inkwell and carefully scritched Sandbar’s name into a ledger line beside the title of the book. “No eating, drinking, dancing, prancing, or flying over twenty feet in the air with the book.”

“I’m an earth pony.”

“You’d be surprised what some ponies can manage,” the little dragon said wryly. “Sign here.” Sandbar took the quill in his mouth and scribbled his name on the line.

Once he was out of the head mare’s office, Sandbar tucked the book into his pack and trotted over to the courtyard. Finding a quiet corner behind the fountain, he sat on his flank and opened the book. One hoof traced down the table of contents until he found the section on griffons. He flipped to the page eagerly. He skimmed past the introduction, and quickly noticed that the illustrations Twilight had mentioned were actually fairly crude—bulky lines and suggestions of color—not the detailed lithographs or artist renderings he had hoped for.

There was a large section right after the introduction that focused on the griffon diet. Griffons, Swiftwing reported, were omnivores.

Sandbar almost vomited.

The authored carried on bravely, detailing the murdered flesh the griffons consumed at certain feasts, and noted that smaller morsels of meat were eaten just as every day meals. Sandbar felt light headed. He had been sharing his room with a… a meat eater! Sandbar continued reading.

Your author is relieved to report that, despite the inherent barbarism of meat consumption, the griffons appear to have certain prohibitions against eating species they deem intelligent. Your author freely admits she was somewhat concerned about her safety prior to this revelation. Some more civilized griffons may abstain from the murderous portions of their diet around a pony, but your author would not suggest this is a common occurrence. This information is provided forthwith in a reminder that despite a shared language and certain shared history, a griffon is in no way a pony.

Sandbar continued reading, skimming though Swiftwing’s appreciation of Griffonstone’s architecture and despair at the state of its textiles. Sandbar reached a passage that caught his eye. ‘Griffons, in accordance with their brutish nature, tend to be more direct in their courtships rituals than ponies.’ Sandbar bristled at the classification of griffons as brutish, thinking it sounded an awful lot like what that awful unicorn Neighsay might say. He reminded himself that Princess Twilight had said this was an older book. Styles change with every season, as Professor Rarity would say. Swiftwing described a courtship ritual where the two griffons had exchanged crest feathers as a sign of fondness. The author then noted with legible disdain that the marriage ceremony had occurred only a few months later. Sandbar snorted. His parents had only been together a few weeks when his mom proposed to his dad. A few generations ago, that would have been unthinkable, but by that time it was just unusual, not shocking. Times change. Maybe, he thought, thinking for the thousandth time that day of how aroused he had been the previous night, ponies change too.