Things are pretty bad...View OnlineGilda’s BitchThings are pretty bad...When I first applied to be Gilda’s assistant, I didn’t think much of it; it seemed like a job that would be fairly easy, and I needed the pay. At first, things were pretty normal. My duties were closer to that of a maid or housekeeper than an assistant, but I didn’t mind too much. Well, I didn’t mind at first. See, me and Gilda began to get a little closer - spending that much time around someone... that’s bound to happen eventually, and this wasn’t some mushy romantic tale where we ended up becoming true loves, instead, she began to feel a little more comfortable with me. She began to get a whole lot more lazy, too. Sending me out to buy food for her, prepare food for her, and even sometimes feed it to her. It was pretty humiliating to say the least. She sat around the house a lot more, too. Watching TV. Playing video games. There was nothing wrong with this, but it combined with her caloric intake resulted in Gilda putting on substantial weight. Everytime I would suggest something healthy for lunch, she’d give me a snide, sneering look, and demand I got her what she had originally asked for... of course, I did. It’s taken me a while to come to terms with this, but it’s undeniable: I am Gilda’s bitch. Things have recently gone from humiliating to downright despicable, and utterly disgusting. Gilda’s gotten into passing gas a LOT lately. Well, when I say ‘gotten into’, what I mean is that her diet seems to be giving her awful gas, and she seems to care very little about letting that gas out anytime and anyplace. In fact, she seems to revel in the visible disgust she elicits from me whenever she does it, laughing like an elementary school kid. It goes even further than that... On a usual afternoon, when it’s around time for dinner, I’ll get the usual yell from my feathered mistress, asking for pizza or burgers or whatever artery clogging food she desires on that day. I prepare it for her, of course, and then comes the dreaded moment where I have to feed it to her. She is always sat comfortably at the other side of her room, grinning and idly massaging her large stomach, licking her lips as I approach. “Took you long enough.” She’ll scoff, her eyes moving between whatever she’s watching on TV and the plate. “Better not taste like anal warts again.” She’ll remark crassly, and then I feed it to her. She rarely looks at what she’s eating; to her, as long as it’s greasy and at least 1000 calories, she’s happy. Her tongue whips out and pulls the food into her maw. She chews it noisily and rudely, often talking as she does this, and swallows, opening her mouth, awaiting her next bite. She doesn’t really chew her food like she should, just enough to get it down her gullet, and after she’s eaten everything I have, a startlingly loud belch jumps forward from her beak, sounding defined and masculine; deep and bumptious. “Heh. Rate that one outta five!” She’ll snicker, and I will almost always smell it only a couple of seconds later. She commands me to stay with her, for my work is not yet over - in fact, it’s barely just begun. Now, you’d think that it takes a few hours for food to work its way through someone’s digestion and become gas and excrement, but that is not the case with Gilda. Maybe it really doesn’t agree with her, maybe she has a super fast metabolism - I’m not sure, but after only about ten minutes, she’s feeling the after effects of what she just ate. During this 10-15 minute gap, she asks me to rub her belly for her. I rub the side of her stomach in large, circular moments, until this particular little sound comes from deep within, and her face quickly shifts into a grimace. “Hey, it’s coming.” She’ll strain, and this is when I’m expected to rush to the rear end of the griffon. At first, I thought that maybe she wanted me to try and minimise the smell she would have to intake herself, but now I’m fairly certain she just gets some sick kick out of having somebody smell her farts. Her tail flicks up like a horse, and what sounds like a duck with a muzzle around its beak undulates softly between her huge buttocks. It’s a slow, steady sound, that purrs achingly from her ass like a tuba dribbling out an effortless note, and with a loud, obvious sigh from the griffon herself, it stops. “Sniff it up!” She laughs, and I do. Why? I don’t really know. I think the shameful answer Is I’m too scared of what Gilda might do to me if I refuse. I don’t have to particularly lean in or increase my proximity to smell it; even if I were ten feet away it would reach me eventually, and it’s foul. I mean - repulsively foul. It’s a very meaty smell, but not good meat. Kinda smells like someone left a saucepan full of sausages out on the stove for about two weeks, but... there’s more to it than that. There’s a really cloyingly disgusting sweetness there, too, like old, sour caramel. Truthfully, it smells like garbage. Next time you walk past a dumpster, take a sniff. I’m almost certain that’s exactly what Gilda’s farts smell like. Of course, the smell can change sometimes. It’s not a constant. It’s usually either this - the sweet rotten meaty smell, or it’s a hot, sour eggy smell. Oh, and sometimes it’s more like boiled cabbage. I’m honestly a bit scared that I’ve smelled enough of these to confidently identify the smells. Anyway, I have to sniff. It’s not as hard to smell as it was when she first started to make me inhale her gas, but it’s still a lucid, disgusting experience. It’s not long before she rips another fart, this one wet and burbling. I smell again, not even recovered from the last one. “You call that sniffing? Come on! Get your nose in there, bitch!” She reaches a claw back to spread one of her cheeks apart, as if doing this makes it any more inviting to me. I comply, of course, and push my nose between her buttcheeks, feeling her sweaty, leathery asshole pinch the tip of it. I shiver. I know what’s coming. The next one is a silent puff, blowing right up into my nostrils and immediately stinging like burning plastic. I can’t stop my eyes from watering at the sides. The smell is beyond painful to breathe in, hitting my lungs like a bunch of razors. I quickly wipe my eyes; I can’t let her see. “Hey! You must have your nose pushed in too hard, I couldn’t even hear that one!” “S-Sorry.” I say feebly and move a few inches back again, still with her buttocks either side of my face but not pressed directly against it. “Ugh. My stomach is still hurting.” She complains to herself, readjusting herself very slightly and grunting. I can sense that her abdominal muscles are pulling up as she pushes to let more of her Pungent winds out onto my face. This one straight up slaps out of her ass, billowing with a smooth brrruuuuu sort of sound, but it doesn’t stop there. In fact, it gets even stronger, going up by about a semitone and becoming twice as moist-sounding. She grunts, but it’s clear she’s not letting this fart finish anytime soon. It doesn’t really sound like she particularly has to try hard to make it this long, either, it rumbles out from her without her even having to push very hard at all. I can physically feel the warm, sultry breeze on my cheeks. Everytime I sniff, it’s the same disgustingly abattoir-esque odor. It’s still going strong. Fuck, how long is this going to keep going on for? She suddenly begins to speak, WHILE it’s still coming out of her ass. It dies down slightly as she speaks, but it’s definitely still coming out. “Swallow... this... for me. Seal it up tight.” She grunts. With less than a second of reluctance, I open my mouth into an ‘o’ shape and press it over her asshole. I feel my cheeks balloon out to their limits almost straight away and I begin to swallow quickly. The taste is strange, as it’s more of a hot, stinging sensation than a particular flavor. The fart sounds different now, too. It’s entirely treble-less, muffled and running down the back of my throat and into my stomach. Fortunately, it dies down a few seconds later, but no amount of breath mints will get rid of the aftertaste. “Fuck yeah!” She cheers breathlessly to herself. “Next time, bring a stopwatch with you, ok?” I pull my head away. By now I’m very lightheaded, staring up at the two chubby, rounded buttocks in front of me, and the tail which is now swaying from one side to the other. “Face fart!” She announces suddenly, quickly pushing herself backwards and sitting her fat ass down - with my head under it. Her 500 pound body weighs down on me, though she uses her wings as not to completely crush my skull. In the confused darkness a loud, gulpy wet fart blasts me with swampy gas, vibrating the entirety of my head and upper body. I can’t even work out where exactly her asshole is, but the acrid smell overwhelms me anyway. I can hear her going to push another fart out, but she stops. “Nope. That’s not a fart.” She chuckles, pulling her heavy haunches off of me and getting back onto all fours. “Well, looks like I gotta take a dump.” She looks round at me, smirking, and says four words which send a shiver up my spine: “Hope you’re hungry, bitch!”
Things are getting worse.View OnlineGilda’s BitchThings are getting worse.“Well? You gonna just stand there staring at me?” She chortled, “I feel like I’m about to drop a nice, big, bundle for ya, and if I get even one mark on this carpet you’re paying for it.” Her threats always seemed very genuine. Sure, Gilda did have a bathroom, but she had gotten out of the habit of using it, opting instead to push me even further and actually... yes, I’m being serious... expect me to be her toilet, and yes - it’s as awful as it sounds. The other problem with her diet was how unpredictable her bowel movements could be, and I was expected to ‘take care’ of them at a moment’s notice. She shuffled on the spot, her tail once again raising up and away from her butt. “It’s.... hng ... gonna come out.” She grunted, using her legs to plant herself down firmly. What came out was not, as she had expected, solid waste, but instead another fart; this one squealed out for about four seconds. Her pre-poop farts were always the worst - the smell was somewhere between rotten fruit and garbage bags, with just a helping of meaty manure. “Fuck... I know I’ve got something in there, just taking a while to come out..” I could hear her grunting loudly again, her ass sticking out slightly as she did this. “Wait. Come here a sec.” She used a claw to beckon me over to her head, and as son as I was close, jutted her head forward to send a wet belch my way. She blew it towards me and cackled, it smelled like hot, spoiled chorizo. As soon as she’d given me this little ‘treat’, I was instructed to once again take position at the rear side of her. The other thing about having to perform these toilet duties for Gilda, and I know this is disgusting; I could never totally be sure about the consistency of what was going to come out. Would it be hard and chunky? Wet and runny? I would only know as soon as it released from her currently pinching asshole. “It’s coming for real, this time.” She muttered, and surely enough only a few seconds later a little brown turtle head peeped out between her fat, furry cheeks. The smell of griffon shit acquainted itself with my nose almost immediately, and if you’ve never had the bad fortune of smelling griffon manure, it’s even worse than that of a dog, a cat, a horse or even a human. It’s sickly and bitter, and has some horrible unmistakable smell to it that’s too foul to really compare to anything. I took one deep breath (probably not a good idea with the smell) and got to work. I started by pulling her cheeks apart so that this log could pass more easily. I could already tell it was a fat one, and my suspicions were confirmed when I parted the two fatty orbs of ass and saw just how much her asshole was being stretched to accommodate this particular turd. It was already time to start taking care of the waste for her. I really thought that by now it was something I’d be used to, but it just wasn’t. My tongue distended from my mouth as I opened it as widely as I could, leaning in and making sure my open mouth was level with the excitement. It slid out at a snail’s pace, making a wet crackling noise as it did so. After a few seconds, it touched my tongue, and I began to chew away at it, piece by piece. It was easier to break it down a little as it was coming out, rather than letting the entire thing fill my mouth and potentially choke me. The taste was as bitter as bitter can be, and I shuddered as I chewed the waxy, gritty texture. I tried to ignore the small chunks of food that hadn’t quite been digested and focused more on swallowing; it was really a big task just to swallow the awful-tasting manure, but I had to. It slid down the back of my throat like a thick, heavy piece of bread that almost gets stuck, but with a few gulps I managed to swallow it completely. The log was starting to come out just a little faster, so I started to chew quicker. It got stuck to my teeth, and no doubt made a mess around my mouth, but there was not time to care about something so trivial; I pushed my head in closer, loudly chewing away as I tackled the thick log of shit. Here’s the very worst part of this whole ordeal... this was my only food. My only meals. Of course, I was sometimes able to take a small bite of something I was preparing for her, but never very much. No - in a way, Gilda’s meals were my meals, only I had to eat them after they’d already been through her. Her asshole puckered in and cut off the log, sending the last few inches of it swinging down and hitting my chin. I made sure to chew and swallow the last little length of it, before stopping and breathing heavily. “Agh. That was one stubborn piece of shit.” She seemed just as breathless as me. My entire mouth tasted of griffon shit. Everytime I breathed in or out the smell only intensified. I ran my tongue along the roof of my mouth, feeling that it had been stained brown, and there was still more to come. “My fucking stomach still fucking hurts.” Gilda groaned, giving it a rub as best she could. “I need a piss anyway.” She said with a sigh, and I knew this meant it was time to change positions momentarily. I crouched down and pulled apart her thighs, revealing her pussy. To make sure I didn’t spill any of it, she usually instructed me to lie underneath her, with my head beneath her nether regions, and mouth around her fat pussy lips. “Y’know, they used to use urine as mouthwash, so if anything I’m doing you a favor!” She laughed to herself. Her body was warm above me, and I could feel the rumbles of her tummy against me. The warm spurt of urine began to flood my mouth, washing away the shit but at the same time introducing a potent, salty taste. I began to swallow the hot, golden liquid, feeling it trickle down the back of my throat. At this point, Gilda’s piss was the most tolerable part of this whole routine. I cringed at just how salty it really was. She was never very well hydrated, opting for soda instead of water at every opportunity. It was moments like this, noisily gulping down Griffon piss, that it really sunk in - the utterly humiliating position I was in; a position where I was being made to ingest every byproduct Gilda squeezed out into my mouth, knowing I was currently drinking what had passed through her body was a nauseating thought. This one stream of piss didn’t last very long, and before I knew it it was time for me to resume my duties at her rear. I wiped my lips, taking a moment to breathe as I pulled myself out from under her and kneeled against her hind end. “I hope you’re ready, pipsqueak!” She chuckled, and I watched as her asshole opened slightly, letting a new load of feces squeeze out from it. The peanut-brown excrement glistened in what little light there was as it slowly curled downwards, her anus piping it out with the same crackling noise. I moved my face in closely and held my open mouth around the turd, letting it slide into my mouth until Gilda pinched it off. For just a couple of seconds I felt it resting on my tongue; a fat, greasy snake of a thing, before I chewed at it and swallowed as fast as I could. It was slightly softer than that huge one she’d let out first, but the taste was just as unbearable. “That one kinda stung.” She commented, before easing the next one out, although instead of shit coming out, I was greeted with a quick puff of gas into my mouth. The next log slid out of her much more quickly, coiling up in the back of my mouth before I ate it. I didn’t even want to try and think about the sorts of food that had been digested to produce this. “Rim me.” She instructed, the tone of her voice this time quite cold and very commanding. I licked at her knobbly anus, swallowing the shit that covered it before letting my tongue deeper inside her rectum. She always wanted it cleaned thoroughly, disregarding the times where she liked to leave her ass caked in feces, letting it dry up over the course of a few days before making me chew it off. I probed my tongue inside, feeling the pressure of the inside of her anus close around it. There was a brief moan from Gilda as I refilled my mouth with saliva and rimmed her again, making sure it was as clean as I could make it. “Here.” She snapped, and I picked myself up and walked around to face her again. She was grinning smugly. “Feels like you did a good job for once” she teased. “Um.. thank you.” She laughed in my face. “You’re such a pussy!” “Sorry.” “Anyway... I’m hungry again, and I want you to get me something special.” “What?” She smirked. “Ice cream.” “But, you can’t...” She silenced me. Dairy was the one thing Gilda couldn’t eat. God knows she ate anything else she wanted, but she had a severe intolerance to any kind of dairy. Even a sip of milk or a piece of cheese and her stomach went crazy. “I want ice cream, so you get ice cream.” She snickered.
Things couldn’t possibly get any worseView OnlineGilda’s BitchThings couldn’t possibly get any worseGilda’s stomach made a loud, ungodly noise. She grimaced and sucked air in through her teeth, using her claw to soothe it - or attempt to. I looked at the three empty ice cream cartons. I told her to stop at one, but she wasn’t going to, and now I would be facing the results. “That was a bad idea..” she groaned to herself, as another moan came from her belly. She burped and sighed, breathing heavily. Without a word of warning, a very wet ripping fart slapped out against her asscheeks, so loud it left a half second of reverberation bouncing around the walls. Gilda chuckled breathlessly and looked up at me. “Get back there, you slut.” I nodded and cautiously arrived at the backside of the griffon, her tail raised and ready and her legs planted firmly onto the ground. “Remember - don’t spill a drop!” I shivered at that command, and another juicy fart blasted me in the face for three seconds. Celestia above... her usual farts were nauseating, but these lactose intolerant ones were something else. Seconds letter another wet popper spilled out of her ass; long and humid, after about seven seconds it reduced to a steamy hiss. “Don’t stand there! Get your mouth over my asshole, these farts sure feel risky.” She cackled, and I did as she told me. I stuck my tongue out, opening my mouth wide in preparation. Another fart spluttered out of her with a croaking sound, echoing around my mouth and filling it and my nose with the sour, unbearable scent. The volume quickly crescendoed, and much to my unpreparedness, the gas suddenly transitioned into a hot, brown diarrhea spray. I could feel it splatter the back of my throat in a violent jet, making a mess of my tongue and around my mouth. The taste was immediately bitter and nutty; so bitter than I felt my eyes scrunch up and my muscles in my jaw tense. “Ohh, yeah!” She sighed, “how’d you like my hot fudge sundae?” It died down, and I was quick to use my tongue to lick away the little bubbly bit of shit oozing from her now closed anus. Another watery fart cracked against my tongue, followed by another quick spurt of runny shit. The consistency was as if someone had added a jug of water to a jar of peanut butter and mixed it together a little. I swallowed, cringing again, and placed my mouth more over her asshole, so that it couldn’t possibly go anywhere else and make a mess. “Ugh. Bet my chocolate milkshake tastes good, doesn’t it?” She teased, and shortly opened the floodgates again. I could feel the entire inside of my mouth caked in sloppy, liquid shit, as it forcibly ran down the back of my tongue. It made a disgusting squelching sound as it came out, too. I could physically feel the feces going down my gullet and into my stomach, and it took all my strength not to gag, but Gilda was about to do something even more disgusting. “Hey, you know what? I’m feeling a little freaky. Grab that empty soda cup, would you?” She gestured to an empty cardboard cup laying on the floor in front of her. “Um... are you sure? I might miss some..” “Don’t second guess me, bitch!” I decided to comply, and grabbed the cup for her. Now, everything I’ve told you so far is pretty fucking disgusting, but this is where things go from gross to absolutely fucked up. This was, in fact, the first time Gilda had decided to do this. It was almost as if she was enjoying being fucking gross. “Fill it up.” She glared at me, her tail swaying. I silently went back to her ass, and held the rim of the cup against her twitching asshole. A stream of diarrhea began to spray out almost immediately, and I had to tilt the cup up just to make sure none overshot onto the carpet. “It’s full!” “Good. Bring it here.” I carried the now warm cup over to her, and she took it from me. She gave it a sniff. “Ooh! Funky!”, and then, to my surprise, proceeded to drink it. She gulped the entire cup down in one go, wiping her lips and sighing afterwards as if she’d just enjoyed a tall glass of lemonade. I was speechless. “That was fucking good! I don’t know what you’re complaining about!” Maybe her tastebuds had been eroded away by all the junk food she ate, or maybe she had finally gone mad. Not only had she just downed a full cup of her own feces, but she had enjoyed it. She burped and giggled. “Now how about you do what you do best, and feed me some more.” She handed the cup back to me, and I once again walked around her and held it in place. With a grunt, she had it filled up in about three seconds. When I brought it back to her she once again gulped the whole cup down, pulling me in close so her next belch could be right in my face. “Okay, I think I almost have all that ice cream out of my system, but I feel like there’s one more cup in me.” She grinned and handed it back to me again. I was almost frozen on the spot, but forced myself back to fill it up again. Her ass was like a water fountain, spraying out the runny brown slop and filling the cup up, but this time rounding it off with a loud, wet fart, which sprayed little specks all over my face and torso. She found that hilarious. When I went to hand the cup back to her, she paused. “No. This time, I want you to take a sip. It would be rude of me to hog it all!” I paused for a second before taking the smallest sip I could. I may have already eaten a lot of it, but the bitterness was just as potent as the first time. She took the cup from me and sipped at it, licking her lips and handing it back for me to sip it again, which I did. The griffon finished it off, sighing and throwing the cup off to one side. “C’mere.” She gestured, and I leant in closer so that she could lick the residual shit splatter from my face. “Tastes good, doesn’t it? But I kinda need to wash it down with something..” she grinned. I went to pick up the cup again and go to fill it with her piss, but she stopped me. “Oh, no. Not mine. Yours.” Her grin grew into a smirk. “M-mine?” “Sure. You haven’t been to the bathroom yet, I bet you need to.” I paused. This was true, but it wasn’t a request I was expecting. I would feel embarrassed, but honestly at this point it was hard to feel embarrassed about anything. I unzipped my pants, sighing and resting my cock just on the inside of the cup. She giggled. “God, that is so small! No wonder you do everything I tell you, huh?” It took me a few seconds to even coax anything out - performance anxiety if you will - but after about ten seconds, my penis twitched and a small yellow stream of piss began to fill up the cup. She watched intently, the only sound being the quiet trickling of urine, and licked her lips again. I managed to fill it about half way, which she didn’t really seem impressed at. “That’s all you’ve got?” She laughed. “Sorry.” I said quietly, but this only made her laugh more. “Okay, So, there’s one more thing I want you to do.” “Yeah..?” “Get your face back in my ass, sniff this fart I’ve got brewing, and cum into that cup. The cherry on top of the cake.” I paused. What!? Her farts were about the least arousing thing in existence. I stared at her, as if to say ‘are you kidding?’ But the look she gave me back made me know she wasn’t. I made my way back around to the backside of the bloated griffin, being reintroduced to the foul aroma of her asshole and cheeks. I paused for a second, looking down at my cock wilted against the half-filled cup, small residual flakes of her diarrhea still floating around in the golden-yellow liquid. In the brief moment of silence all I could hear was the low, looming sound of Gilda’s stomach digesting and squelching; it was as if her fart was a tidal wave and I could feel its impending doom. “I said get in there!” She used the momentum of her weighty body to bump her butt into me, almost making me drop the small cup I was holding, and forced my head between her cheeks. I can feel each slab of fat either side of my face, sucking me into the sickly unwashed softness found between; I can feel her sphincter pulse and pucker. “And you’re not gonna cum if you’re not jerking that little baby dick off, c’mon!” As much as I was utterly and completely turned off, I forced myself to wrap my hand around my penis and start up with the familiar motion - only it’s become slightly less familiar since I became Gilda’s slave. Even if I had a moment of free time to sneak off and crank one out, the only things running around in my head were her gross bodily functions. It was as if I physically could not imagine something that aroused me anymore. A noisy and wet sound ripped unapologetically from Gilda’s pursed tailhole and caused a cloud of death-smelling methane to shroud around me. It was almost impossible to keep masturbating as I sniffed at the putrid, pungent smell and even more impossible to actually get hard. This fart was followed by another, just moist and bubbly, with a thick, juicy amount of bass that jiggled her cheeks. “Ahh! I can’t imagine how good these reek!” I had to try and ignore the smell and just get hard. Just close my eyes and try to see if there was anything buried in the depths of my memory that could aid me; anything that didn’t resemble Gilda’s gaseous expulsions, but it was impossible. I couldn’t. The sooner I could cum, the sooner I would be able to stop smelling her farts, though. She peppered my inner nostrils with another achingly spluttery gas bomb; to her it was probably as easy and effortless as breathing. My penis was starting to harden slightly just from the physical stimulation, but the dizzying smell of Gryphon gas was doing its best to keep it as flaccid as possible. I sped up, just trying to close off my ears and my nose and get this over with before I passed out - I wouldn’t want to imagine what might happen if I did that. “You’re still going? Huh. They must be really ripe today!” Her taunts weren’t doing me any favors, but I could feel myself approaching climax now, as long as I jerked my cock as fast as possible and tried to forget about the sights, sounds and smells everywhere around me. Speeding up even more and with my eyes firmly shut, I finally began to feel myself climax. This may have actually been the first time since arriving here. At exactly the same time, predictably, another hefty, spoiled-meat smelling fart blew into my face with a deep rumble. Something felt so wrong about experiencing sexual satisfaction at the same time as the pure disgust of inhaling Gilda’s gas. I didn’t know whether to vomit or cry. It was as if something were being rewired in my brain. I couldn’t help but let out an exasperated gasp. “Finally. Took you long enough.” I pulled myself away from the plushy gryphon cheeks, feeling as if they had left a slimy membrane over my face, and peered down into the cup. Alongside the flecks of shit, my silky cum now also floated around in the urine, one last drop falling from the tip of my penis. It was sickening. I reluctantly walked back around to Gilda’s front end again, presenting the cup to her. “Wow! Who knew such a tiny dick could produce so much?” She chuckled and took the cup from me, inhaling it deeply as if it were a fine wine. Then, without hesitation, she tipped her head back and drunk a good mouthful. It almost made me want to throw up just seeing how little it bothered her. More than that - how she enjoyed it. “Refreshing! You should really try some!” She held the cup towards me. No. Way. There was absolutely no fucking way I was going to take so much as a sip from it. I knew that I’d been already gulping down Gilda’s waste like it was pudding but for some reason the idea of actually having to drink my own bodily fluids made me gag. “I’m sorry. I can’t.” Her eyes seemed to drop. “Excuse me? I wasn’t asking you.” “Anything else. I can’t do that.” She paused for a moment. What had I done? I could tell that she was pissed. I don’t think I’d ever denied one of her requests before. “Shame, but more for me, I guess.” She downed the rest of the contents of the cup, licking her lips and sighing contentedly. This was one fucked up Gryphon. I mean, I already knew that she was fucked up, but she seemed to always outdo herself with each passing day. She seemed to have taken my denial of her order fairly well, though. Almost... too well. “Hey, bitch.” I looked up at her again. “Hold still.” Before I had even a moment to process what was going on, I felt a sharp prick in my right arm. Looking down, I saw the prick had come from a syringe, which Gilda was holding, pressing down on the plunger with her smile growing broader. “Should have finished that drink, slave.” Jesus Christ. Fuck. Where the fuck had she even gotten that from? There was no way she was even close to agile enough to grab it across the room. These thoughts were suddenly not important, though. I quickly realized that I couldn’t move my arms... or my legs... or anything. My muscles were completely locked into position. The gryphon’s smile sustained as she pulled the needle from my arm and tossed the use syringe aside. I was about to face Gilda’s punishment.