Author's Note

Trigger warnings for this part:

F/M, Femdom, sex-toy, rimming, pegging, prostate massage, horny griffon matrons harassing a young tom. And some minor descriptions of sex. Also, Gilda uses her dancing sword for dancing, for once.

Stoßgebet, pt. II (clop)

“Dance?” A grimace accompanied the word out of her beak. Gilda’s mind reeled at the word. It kicked her brain back into working order and lifted the red mist from her thoughts, changing it for an anxious energy.

Before she could argue, or even succumb to the tightness the idea brought to her throat, a griffoness came to Gilda. She was orange and golden, with a bright smile. None of that really mattered. She carried a sword on her back. A magical sword, secured by magical means. A Swordmaiden’s Dancing Sword. The lightning trapped inside the blade drew Gilda’s magical senses as much as the shiny steel drew her eyes. Only then, Gilda noticed the infectious, radiant smile on the griffoness. She sat on her orange covered rump and held an outfit for Gilda to take. A moment spent appraising her showed a beautiful creature. Vivid colors and taut muscles beneath, with vibrant, joyful eyes.

Gilda held the object she had brought and stared at it with an expressionless gaze. Interleaved rings of gold and silver made a garter belt, which held a curtain of mixed gold and silver threads. It reminded her of one of those natural fiber dresses creatures loved to use at beach parties. More than that, the griffoness offered Gilda bangles and bracelets made of electrum and dotted with citrines and amethysts. A dancing garment, and it went well with Gilda’s tiara, with the visage of the Harpy.

The dress captivated her. It would just barely hide her naughty bits, and the light would bounce on the metallic threads and catch the eyes of all the griffons gawking at her. Ghadah never used those because she didn’t like the way the materials would look on her yellow fur and plumage. But they might just work for Gilda’s sweet tan covered shape, white feathers, and purple highlights.

But none of that mattered because Gilda had never actually danced. Not in her present life, at least.

“I… Never did it. You know that.” Gilda’s eyes remained on the garment she held in her paws before they raised to Mother Harpy. She loomed over Godwin and glared at Gilda, expecting to be obeyed. Mythical weighed like a tonnage of bricks on Gilda’s back. The weight of all the eyes on her from every side. Words came slowly, like they became lost in a maze of insecurity. “I can only fight because Ghadah’s memories come back to me… When I need them. When I am in danger, or when others are.”

“What makes you think you are not in danger? You lack the experience to fathom what I will do to you in this place if you disobey. Or even worse if you fail.” Mother Harpy’s chuckle rose into a clear laugher the other griffons in the room mimicked. There was, of course, no ill will behind their laughter. It was just fun for them, but Gilda knew better than to toy with the Harpy.

“Dance!”

“Dance!”

“Dance!” Griffons chanted around her, and Gilda’s beak hung open. It happened fast. She needed a couple of seconds before she even understood what was happening. All the confidence that carried her through the school presentations and powered her through the days of selling scones didn’t help. Looking angry and undisturbed wouldn’t get her anywhere in the middle of all those horny griffons. Much less before Mother Harpy.

In fact, after seeing those weird griffons that looked like the Harpy made Gilda a shudder. Just the idea of what Mother Harpy could do to Gilda in that fever dream of horniness made her skin crawl. Even worse, that yellow griffoness, tied and flogged, returned to Gilda’s mind. When she noticed, the tan griffoness was already sitting on her haunches and donning the dancing garment, looking down her flank and fiddling with the fastening.

She smiled, quite liking it despite the whole situation. It ‘covered-for-lack-of-a-better-term’ her teats and in her sensitive state she needed to suppress a soft gasp at the coarse threads touching her softest fur and her nipples. For a second, she wondered how much that red thing the Harpy had dipped them into factored into that. But she had no time to waste.

Looking up from her belly, her eyes found the Harpy and Godwin laid on the giant bed. Her host of young… What were those weird griffons? They seemed so similar to the Harpy, like they were all her cubs, but Gilda knew she was infertile. That was not the moment to think about that! She was nervous and her mind drifted. All of them stared at Gilda, too, males and females. Unsetting barely described the feeling.

Frozenlake’s citizen griffons and southerners too, occupying other furniture or just gathering to watch from a better angle. Raunchy stares and titillated, half-hidden smiles or jealous frowns, barely disguised. Not the ‘little harpies’. All of them stared at Gilda like she was a piece of ham hanging above a pool of piranhas.

Mother Harpy’s own gray eyes could set Gilda on fire, but Godwin’s unbroken gazing made her feel like a hussy lovebird. She felt like slapping him, hoping to the Allmother the hotness in her cheeks didn’t show. Ironically, Mother Harpy was part of the problem. Then it dawned on Gilda that the oversized catbird with a god complex knew exactly what she was doing. Rather than anger, though, the feeling that came to Gilda was a fuzzy, warm acceptance. When was the last time she had felt beautiful?

All the time she had spent sprucing up to go to the meeting finally felt like it had worked. Like she could compete with Georgia’s youthful visage and Grunhilda’s adorableness. Gilda was a mature griffoness with something to show that griffons wanted to watch. She thought of Gevorg but didn’t dare look back in fear of how many eyes staring at her she would see.

She closed her eyes and silently drew in a lungful of air. If she ever intentionally willed Ghadah’s memories to flush to her mind and take over, that was it. Surprising her, Gilda’s mind filled with how-to’s and what-to’s. Trying not to think about it, lest she would break the magic, Gilda stood on her hindlegs. With little effort, balancing her quadrupedal body in the awkward posture.

Gilda reached with her left paw under her shoulder and grasped the leather scabbard. Someone watching might have been fooled by the apparent practiced ease. Lightning tingled at her fingers as she brought it before her. Magic flowed around her like a breeze, brushing at her dress of golden-silver threads. A sudden flash of lightning entered the hall and thunder roared outside. Just as Mythical responded to her magic, and growled at her like a ferocious beast, ready to do whatever Gilda commanded.

Golden light escaped through the sliver between the Mythical’s guard and the metal finish of the scabbard. Gilda grasped the string-wrapped grip, and Mythical grasped her paw back in a way Gilda still couldn’t understand, but they became one. Magic like lightning searing through her filled Gilda with anticipation. She pulled her Swordmaiden dancing sword from the scabbard and its glory filled the hall like she had pulled a piece of Celestia’s sun from inside.

In fact, her ancient memories reminded Gilda that lightning was five times hotter than the surface of the sun. She shook the thoughts out of her head. Gilda needed graceful and sexy, not smartass at the moment.

To untrained eyes, the magical sword shone slightly in the hall's dimness. The light glinting off it took on a golden shine, trailing behind the moving blade, and the Astrani runes declaring its name filled with liquid light. Mythical hummed in her grasp and hissed through the air when Gilda pointed it up before her. To her eyes, the blade took a likeness to pure lightning, droning and crackling in her paw, with barely contained exorbitant amounts of magic.

Hushed comments of awe reached Gilda. Judgements on her posturing and about the sword’s gleam bouncing off her eyes and her garment. About her beauty. It was the smile on the Harpy’s beak, even behind her veil, which filled Gilda’s chest with bubbly giddiness.

She aimed her magical sword downward, and the tip melted through an inch into the marble. With the start of her dancing routine, launching the blade into a diagonal arc, the sword sent a million shards of molten stone into the air. She stepped forward, and the blade sang a ringing note through the air, drawing a perfect sweeping arc at her command. Griffons cried and distanced themselves. They laughed and gawked in wonder at the show of flying embers. Completely unintentional, but Gilda was not about to tell them.

She spun around herself, and the magical blade swooped above her head. Forelimbs raised, guiding it through the air above her head. She spun and drove the blade downward. Mythical danced above and around her. Teasing, barely missing her pelt. Her garment spun and sent the golden threads in a flowing carousel like Gilda was a shard of the Allmother’s power dancing in the sky.

The lack of music made keeping her tempo difficult and there was no memory Ghadah could provide, which helped her. She always danced with drums, strings and flutes. Gilda made her own music, with rustling feathers, and steel whistling through the air. Mythical guided her as much as she guided her blade. Twirling her body as much as the sword, Gilda’s wings sent her in airborne twirls and pirouettes. She danced with the blade launched, spinning into the air, like a pair of synchronized dancers in a dangerous tango, only for her paws to grasp the hilt again. The precision astounded even Gilda, as Mythical sought her paws as much as the griffoness reached for the sword in the air.

Her whole body stretched and twisted, from her head to the tip of her tail, like a deadly belly-dancer snaking around the magical steel and sending it on arcs and twirls. Fighting an imagined enemy was the trick, as one of Ghadah’s teachers had told her lifetimes ago. Dodging and parrying blades only she could see, twisting and swirling out of the way. Unleashing the ferocious beast that was the magical weapon, controlling it with the ferocious beast inside of her. Sending imaginary heads and limbs in the air, bathing in warm blood, not really there. Such was how swordmaidens fought when they didn’t dance, and that was how they danced when they didn’t fight.

Gilda was one of them, after all.

Griffons around her whooped and cheered like the deciding goal of the season’s winning shot, but she paid it little mind. Her thoughts were on the deadly weapon swirling above her head and the radiant rays of golden silver she wore. Careful the blade wouldn’t cut her garment nor her limbs, tail, or wings. Spiraling in the air around the weapon like the partner it was, keeping it spinning like all the weight was on Mythical. The trick was in the wings, the twists and sudden flourishes and pirouettes that sent her out of harm’s way, fighting an imaginary pegasus with leg-mounted blades.

Finally, Gilda held Mythical in an embrace, letting her padded foot touch the floor first and opened herself, throwing her forelimbs and guiding the sword in a final sweeping arc, holding herself balanced at the tip of her foot. Her left hind leg stretched backwards, forelegs open, showing herself, she had become a tribute to the perfection of Allmother’s creation. Showing herself as the work of art Mother Harpy meant for her to be, holding Her Mother’s mighty magic and deadly steel in her paws as gold and silver cascaded from her.

Gilda’s limbs ached like Ghadah’s mother had switched her. Her lungs barely kept up with the racing heart in her chest. It moved frenetically to the point she couldn’t hide her panting from her audience. But she didn’t care, and neither would all those griffons. Part of it was from the excitement. She actually did it, and a wide smile showed in her beak among applauses and cheering whoops. The sweat on her lores bothered her none, and she gave herself some reprieve from the pose now she was done, sitting on her haunches. Her sweaty palms trembled, but they still held Mythical.

The applause of hundreds of griffons still thundered in her ears, with whoops and cheers without end for minutes while her noisy breathing still caught up. The Allmother raised to sit on her coin-showered bed and clapped her paws with a proud smile behind her veil of silver and gold. Godwin blushed fiercely, laying with his belly to the sheets, but his eyes still bore a hole into Gilda.

Captain Gevorg hurried himself and took Mythical’s scabbard to Gilda with a beaming smile on his beak. And Grunhilda, hopping like an overexcited cub, couldn’t keep from babbling on and on about how amazing Gilda was. The drained griffoness hugged both before she looked at The Harpy again.

Fiercely blushing, Godwin kept his eyes on Gilda while he was lying on the bed and the Harpy again leaned her body against his back and removed her veil. She told him something in hushed whispers that caused him to let his beak hang and then she proceeded to peck at the feathers at the top of his head. He didn’t know how to respond at first, but she held up his beak with her paw on his neck and kissed him. Their beaks opened and her tongue coaxed his to meet hers. She pulled him to lie on his side and caressed his chest over the small coins he wore and gave a good appraising look at his stiffy.

She withdrew from him. Teasing Godwin with her playful stare and open beak. Just out of his reach to coax him to come to her. Godwin, breathing coarsely, raised his head to meet her beak again. The Harpy rewarded the young male pressing down on him and squeezing the feathers on his fluffy chest as they kissed.

Gilda blinked at them. Ritual, harvesting, magic bullshit and such. Godwin really couldn’t have done much better for a first kiss. He was still getting laid. Gilda only hoped he had sufficient stamina for his kittyfriends.

Catching her breath and smiling, Gilda returned her attention to Gevorg and Grunhilda. She set the sword to rest inside its scabbard and her eyes went down. Gevorg, sitting down in front of her, had a similar blood allocation issue, but was much more mature about it than Godwin when she looked back up at him.

“Sorry. It has a will of its own.” He chuckled. Grunhilda blushed at the sight, tilting her head a little to get a better view, and Gilda smiled. Maybe it was the background horniness of the night permeating the room, that Gilda had already seen enough griffons having sex that she wanted some too, or that Gevorg had a really nice-looking pecker.

“I’ll take it as a compliment.” She stood on her four legs, still unstable after the excitement had worn off and her muscles kept complaining. She winked at him, but behind him, she saw the Harpy looming over Godwin like a portent of doom, dragging a talon over his stomach and making him shake with a long, silent moan. Godwin’s suitors sat by the bed, like a trio of lost puppies watching Lady Gwendolen playing and teasing their tomfriend.

“Do you want to do something about that?” Gevorg chuckled.

“I don’t know if I can.” Gilda shrugged. She also did her best to keep the humor from her words but failed miserably. “How normal is it for some possessive cougar to hijack a tom and have her way with him in the meeting?”

“It’s not normal for the High Lady to show up, reveal herself to be the goddess you worship and take over your Meeting of The Court of The Harpy.” Gevorg deadpanned. “Until you realize she is the Harpy to whom the Court belongs, and sanity flies out the window.”

He and Gilda looked around the place before he talked again. “You don’t even need to be teleported to some fancy ballroom… I don’t know what is going on. My head hurts if I think too hard. I guess it’s better to just enjoy it, given who’s involved.”

“You have a great capacity to synthesize messy situations.” Gilda grinned and poked at his fluffy chest. “Still DTF?”

His face twisted with confusion, and he cocked his head. “Did you just throw some southerner lingo at me? I’m not sure what it means, but if you want to bone me like your boss, I’m not against it in a medium to long-term relationship.”

She laughed, longer and better than she had laughed in a while before she showed him an immoral grin. “I’ll hold you to that, dude.”

“Hey, I’m the Captain of the Sky Sentry in Frozenlake, for a reason.” He chuckled. “I’m good at sucking up to powerful females.”

Gilda gave him a playful smirk and softly slapped his cheek and his handsome smile. “Congratulations, Grunhilda! We have acquired a tomfriend.”

“Yay?!” Big Girl cheered with a confused frown, but remained happy.

“It was a bit overdone.” The alluring orange griffoness, who also carried a sword on her back, playfully bumped her body against Gilda’s. “Griffons loved it, though. You need to work on your physical strength. Magic can only get you so far without relying on Mother’s magic. And you’re not supposed to rest relying on her power. If you are too reliant, she will withdraw it to force you to improve. A lot of cocky neophytes died because of that.”

Gilda nodded. That sounded like legitimate advice that Ghadah would have appreciated. She nodded at the orange griffoness again. “Yeah, I hear you.”

Though, after a second of staring, Gilda could swear she had seen her before. “Say, do I know you?”

Orange giggled and smiled, winking at Gilda, full of mirth. The latter frowned and spent some time looking at the grand hall again. It looked like part of a palace but had something off-putting on its architecture. Those pillars seemed sturdy, but could they hold the canopy ceiling without solid walls? They seemed too few, and the internal space was way too wide. Gilda knew the Harpy had done something to her with that red crap, but things didn’t seem too out of the ordinary that she was seeing things that weren’t there.

Gilda winced for a second. Dancing with a magical sword that could melt marble didn’t seem safe while under the influence of narcotics.

The party hall seemed to rest on an outgrowth of a mountain, or something tall like that, as the clouds seemed close to the roof. It had one solid wall, which was likely connected to the rest of some epic, ridiculously over-engineered palace. Maybe the Harpy had transported them to Griffindell? Did that make sense? Something about that didn’t sound right, but her thoughts lost themselves in the red fog as soon as it started creeping into her eyes again.

Gilda smiled at the orange griffoness and apologized, massaging the side of her head. What was she talking about? Oh, yeah. The wall had a giant set of white doors adorned with black arabesque designs. It was the only way into the hall, and before them was a hulking griffon covered in an ancient bronze armor. A giant greatsword on his back and a great bronze bow rested across his back. She could see the leading edges of his folded wings holding sharp wingblades, too.

Gilda frowned. Ancient memories stirred at the back of her mind but came short of connecting, getting themselves lost in that damnable red fog. Gilda’s bewildered expression amused the orange griffoness, and she hugged the tan one suddenly. It surprised Gilda, but after an instant of stiffness, she hugged the griffoness back. It felt so right, but Gilda did not know why.

“Goodbye, Gilda.” Orange let her go and smiled again. “I look forward to seeing all the great things you will do.”

With not a single word further, Orange turned on her tail and walked off. She vanished in the middle of the mingling griffons, leaving Gilda with a strange feeling of having missed something. She had no time to ponder deeply about that. Around her, griffons were kissing and playfully sharing drinks. Some dude straight pushed his queen to the floor and stuck it inside her right there, in the middle of flashing talons and growls and yowls. There was some laughing, some lewd comments and then the others worried about their own partners because every adult knew what an actual fight looked like.

Gilda squinted. A sudden lightheadedness threatened to steal her feet from under her. The world around her tinted red again and shapes became a blur. Sounds of clicking beaks and wet slaps, punctuating moans and giggles filled her ears. She shook her head, but the distinct smell of horny griffons remained in her nares.

“Are you feeling well?” Gevorg gave her a worried frown and his paw on her shoulder helped keep her balance.

She tried not to stare, but what seemed like a relatively tame party when she sneaked a peek through the door earlier had turned up the steam. Griffons Gilda didn’t know, going at it without a worry, surrounded her. Engrossed with their partners, sometimes multiple, they didn’t even care about others drinking wine and mead and watching. Lewd comments shared in low voices or even giggling and humorous praises were abundant. Gilda was sure she had found Godwin’s pearly friend’s mother. She shared a chaise-lounge with a couple of griffons.

The female, white with caramel rosettes, laid with her back resting against the raised arm of the furniture. One paw holding an obnoxiously large cup of wine while the fingers in her other paw intertwined with the white-pinkish feathers. Pinky-white greedily licked into and up Rosetta’s slit like she craved it.

Pearly’s mother was a similarly mid-aged lady. Wings excitedly open, rosy tips twitching, barely breathing, busy with all the licking. Holding the other’s thighs open like she feared she might want her to stop. The guy behind her, humping her again and again, had a justifiable huge smile, looking down at his two partners. It seemed an insignificant detail, but the only particularly beautiful griffoness in the trio was Godwin’s friend’s mother. The other two seemed much more like mundane griffons. Still fit and healthy northerners, but not ridiculously beautiful like the griffons the Harpy had with her earlier. The rosetted griffoness almost dropped her cup of wine with a long moan, even raising her hip a little, and that was what awakened Gilda from her passive staring.

Putting some distance between them, Gilda had a furious blush on her cheeks. More because she was staring than any other thing. Gevorg chuckled at her. “It’s okay, Gilda. Nobody is going to judge if you’re into watching others doing it. Windigos take me if I lie. I wonder if that is the reason for this whole thing to exist.”

“I know! But this is…” Gilda blurted, and again lost track of what she was going to say. His beautiful black and gray held her eyes, and she smiled at him. Her paws reached for his chest and her fingers held his fluffy plumage before one of her paws patted him down to his solid abdominal muscles under such a soft fur. And, oh, Harpy above, that oaken perfume gave her shudders. She grinned a little more at him. “I think I’m stressed out.”

Grunhilda just kept watching them with her big, curious eyes, and Gilda thought it was fine. Back in control of her faculties, she walked past Gevorg and flicked her tail at his beak, sauntering off. No destination in her head full of sticky, horny thoughts. She just wanted him to follow her and check her sweet hind, still under the dancing garment. He followed her with a winning smile, and Grunhilda followed them with a peppy trot.

Seeing Godwin distracted Gilda, though. It broke through her sluggish, horny thoughts. An initial startle subsided when she saw him with the Harpy. She had that creepy, motherly predatory smile over him as she broke their kiss and her black paw held Godwin’s out-of-his-sheath and standing penis.

Gwendolen’s glistening fingers, adorned with gold and silver rings, moved fluidly and without stopping. She stroked Godwin’s soft fur on his more sensitive areas. Landing her paw on the inner part of his thighs and delicately fondling his testicles and then caressing his leonine sheath. Though she never touched the pink-red, griffon dick, much less the little barbs at the tip, Godwin moaned while his belly tensed. While he didn’t have Gevorg’s toned muscles, he had a pleasant set of muscles of a properly fed griffon tom. She almost felt dirty, staring at him like that.

Gilda startled, with paws touching her back, but Gevorg’s smell of oak reached her with a relaxing effect. One of his paws drifted to her shoulder and soon the other joined, strong fingers squeezing the tension out of her muscles, talons ever so slightly scratching her skin. She shuddered softly, with a goofy grin. She had really scored big. All her tenseness evaporated from her muscles after all the drama and the taxing dance. She even let a soft hum under her breath.

On the bed, Lady Gwendolen raised, sitting next to Godwin, in between his hindlegs and stroking his belly with both paws, getting him to lie on his back. Godwin blushed anxiously and turned his head to the other side while she lifted his hips from the bed and his hindlegs went stiff, jingling with the jewelry she made him wear. He gasped and folded them over his hips, and he shuddered while the great griffoness closed her eyes, ruffling and vibrating her crown of black feathers like a flag of her own arousal.

She beaked softly between his furry balls before he gasped and shuddered again. Her beak opened and her tongue snaked out, licking from his delicate furry pieces to his sheath. When she got to his pink meat, it was stiff, showing his flared spines around the tip. She grinned, so happy about herself, and ran her tongue over his shaft. Godwin released a long moan as her tongue danced over and wet his fur.

Gevorg’s paws left Gilda’s shoulders. He slid them under, fingers streaking into the fluffy plumage on her chest. The griffoness let out a soft gasp and gingerly leaned her back against him when he pulled her to sit straight, holding her against his chest. His left paw held her while he pecked at the feathers on her neck and the other paw drifted downward.

Gilda almost froze, but the thought of stopping him never even crossed her mind. His paw drifted down and down, sending a rapid-fire sequence of sensuous shudders through her. Strong fingers softly flicked her little nipple and held her teat with no ceremony, further pecking her feathers down her neck. His fingers squeezed her titty tenderly, and she leaned her neck against his, letting out the softest of moans.

She probably shouldn’t be doing that, but thinking was hard and lewds were easy. Her innards melting into wet warmness, Gilda kept her eyes on the bed, where the Harpy rubbed her black beak along the side of Godwin’s shaft with a little chuckle. Maybe it was the whole situation, but even if she didn’t like the idea of putting someone’s dick in her mouth, the eroticism fanned the fire her ‘tomfriend’ had started in her nethers. Up and down his length, the black beak went before her tongue slipped from inside again and touched him under his testicles.

Godwin squealed, and Gilda felt bad, but she almost laughed at the noise he made. She didn’t have a good view, but then Harpyia’s tongue started making circles just at the base of his tail and he stiffened like a board. He let escape a long whine, closing his fists over his chest and his red rocket pointed down because of his position, but hardened stiffer than he was.

“I think you’re liking it, Godwin…” Grunhilda’s giggly, titillated tone was telling. Her blush even more so.

“Come on, Big Girl… That wasn’t nice.” Gilda whispered through a soft moan.

“There is nothing wrong with the tom enjoying that.” Gevorg kept playing with Gilda’s little mound, resting his head on her shoulder. “And there is nothing wrong with Grunhilda liking that either.”

He held Gilda a little tighter, reaching further around her neck with his beak, pecking at her feathers, but also talking to her. Just because he wanted her to relax, Gilda supposed. Gevorg really didn’t seem like the kind to make veiled malicious comments. “In Snow Mountains like the northerners, right?”

“It is kinda hot…” One of Godwin’s kittyfriends said.

Gevorg stopped fooling around with Gilda and, like her, turned to look at Godwin’s three little kittyfriends, also by the bed. Just as the sandy, overweight lady blushed and fidgeted with her fingers under the other griffon’s stares. “Sorry… I’m nervous.”

If Godwin heard their conversation, he showed no signs of it. Thank The Harpy. In more than one way, Gilda supposed, and she also had her own feelings on the situation to deal with. It was not wrong to watch in that situation, right? Everyone was enjoying some form or another of sex… That was the point of the meeting. And Gilda was so horny! If she wasn’t worried, she’d already left to get Gevorg boning her already. And Grunhilda too. That was bound to be fun.

Regardless of their conversation, satisfied she had sufficiently given Godwin an experience, the Harpy let her panting partner rest with his back on the bed. Her voice came out husky and her eyes full of lusty glee. She ground her groin against his and her paw held his hard male meat against her tits. “Did you enjoy it, Godwin?”

His voice came out broken and whiny while he accommodated his hindlegs around her waist. “I’m… Not sure.”

“It will not hurt you.” She caressed his dick with her paw and her teats, and then she reached behind her, looking for something she didn’t find. Then she twisted her head around. “Where is the…”

One of the creepy mini harpies hopped proudly onto the bed and sent some coins flying. She had a similar fan of feathers behind her head, but almost white, like all the markings that mimicked those of the original. She held a corked glass bottle on her paw and a… Gilda needed a second to process what it was until it became so obvious, she almost laughed.

For all practical effects, it was a double dildo, folded in an L shape, of the sort which one could find in the sex shops hidden around Griffonstone. It looked like a light purple, transparent, crystal cylinder, almost pink and about the right caliber for its obvious use. One tip was round and shaped with a slight curve, the other took a semblance to an actual griffon penis. Not a simple thing. It had a texture with a bluish silver, inlaid into the crystal, like flowing liquid on its surface. Because the Harpy wouldn’t use something a filthy southerner Saddani could find in a store! Godwin ought to feel honored.

Gilda kept the most serious of blank expressions and internally chastised herself for her thoughts. Although, at least, the thing was not The Harpy’s proper size. With that thought, she slapped herself and put a confused frown on Gevorg’s brow.

Meanwhile, The Harpy had an unfriendly frown as she took the object from the strange griffoness. Holding the crystal in her paw, she turned it around and scrutinized it before she stared at the helpful weirdo. Her eyes showed an irritation under her brow that made Gilda wonder what it was the griffoness did that was so bad.

“Why are you still standing here? I will throw you into the Scorch if you were using this with one another.” The Harpy never raised her voice, but her tone was aggressive and hostile. No response came from the other, but the strange griffoness looked up sheepishly and clicked her talons together, avoiding Mother Harpy’s gaze. “Fetch the chalice, then. Since Madam Galathil is busy. Do not break it and hurry. Godwin is more important than five score of you wretches.”

Gilda kept watching with a sorry frown, but all the pale girl did was nod repeatedly and bolt from the bed, scattering even more coins. While Gilda and the others shared a collectively confused and worried stare, Godwin still laid where The Harpy had left him. With an even more confused frown. “Uh… Thanks? Wait! What is this thing?!”

Turning back to Godwin, The Harpy’s beak made a warm smile. “Show some maturity, Godwin. You are not a cub anymore.”

Godwin all but jumped from sheets and sat a couple of feet from her. “Wait, wait, wait! Can… Can I ask you something?”

She stopped fiddling with the ‘massager’, examining it and leveled her eyes at him. “Anything. Do you wish to stop?”

“Nah-no.” He mumbled a few words and looked at Gilda for a heartbeat before his eyes went back to the Harpy. “I understand it’s for something important. But, but… Can we do this… In private? Please?”

“Goodness… I’m sorry, Godwin!” The pearly-rosy queen shuffled her forefeet nervously, sitting by the bed. And she spoke before Gilda organized her thoughts. Funny thing, though, Grunhilda just stared dumbly, like she didn’t know what they did wrong. “I, I wasn’t aware we were… Uh… Inconveniencing you. I’m so sorry!”

“It’s alright… I just… Hum…” He started, went beet red and back. “I’d like Miss Gilda to come too.”

Goodness… The tom wanted to murder her with regret, but Gilda nodded. Gevorg discreetly let her go, and Grunhilda looked like she wanted to say something, and so did at least two of Godwin’s original suitors. Meanwhile, the strange mini-Harpy griffoness had returned with ‘the chalice’ in her beak. She held it by the hour-glass thin center with a pleading stare.

“You cannot, you bespawling simpleton.” The Harpy growled at the unsettling griffoness and pointed at the white Loremaster with them. “Give it to Lady Geena. And make yourself scarce! You have business to mind. Go! And so do all of you. Do not worry, I shall return Gilda and your tomfriend back to you unspoiled.”

This time, her reaction didn’t upset Gilda so much, but it still made her curious. No time to ask questions, though, as Mother Harpy, still sitting on the bed, stood on her hindlegs and raised her paws, filling her talons with little bolts of lightning. As before, she stood taller on her hindlegs and opened her wings. Lightning flashed among her feathers and filled the air with the smell of the storm.

With a most thematic flash and distant, rumbling thunder, Gilda found herself lacking a floor to stand on. Both she and Godwin screamed, but the sensation lasted only a fraction of a second. She had a floor again and the worst that happened was that her rattled nerves took a couple of seconds before she regained her composure, trying to find balance while sitting on the floor.

She couldn’t decide if it was worse with, or without the red powder. She needed a couple of seconds before her stomach stopped complaining and the room stopped spinning around her. After another additional second, Gilda flared her wings and yelled at the large, stupid cartbird in front of her. “Warn us next time?!”

“Why, soon you will be teleporting yourself across Snow Mountains on a daily basis like it is nothing.”

Poor Godwin gave out a grunt, lying on his back and with his legs in the air. On a luxurious and fluffy bed. Large enough to be a rug, tall enough a griffon would have to hop onto it, and essentially a glorified white and fluffy pillow with messy white sheets. Firm borders, like a nest, snug against a corner in the room, all white and covered in silky white sheets. A couple of griffons sat on it, hiding behind said sheet.

“Well, this is awkward.” Said the male. Head covered in black feathers, without a crest, white jaw, black-dotted neck and chest Gilda could see when he let go of the sheets. His wings were also black, all over a strong masculine body, muscular and large as some of the hunters and Sky Sentries Gilda had seen. He looked at the newly arrived griffons while his partner too let go of the sheets. “I suppose we are caught.”

Curious with his calm and collected demeanor, Gilda kept staring. It was obvious what was happening there. While he appeared to be in the upper mid-age and peak physical form, the queen with him seemed as young as Georgia or Grunhilda. Red feathers that seemed to fight with the blue for dominance on her head and wings. She was one of the ridiculously beautiful young queens that made Gilda wonder why some griffonesses seeme to have all the luck. She let out a dry chuckle of someone caught red-pawed. “Lord Giranor was showing me the premises, since I am new.”

“Perhaps you should know that Lord Giranor is famed for his solicitousness in greeting all the young little queens to the palace.” The Harpy had an amused and light-hearted smile. “Although, he used to take them to the forest. Now, if you don’t mind, I would dearly like to use my room.”

He cocked an eyebrow, looking at Godwin, sitting on the bed and then at the Harpy, standing next to the bed. “What was that about young griffons?”

“I never said I was judging you, Lord Giranor.” She chuckled and pointed at the door with a wing. “Out. Or I will get Madam Galathil involved.”

“Absolutely.” The male coughed and both hopped off the bed, quickly making their way towards the door. He simply pressed his steps while the female covered her blushing face with a wing on their way out.

Once the white doors banged closed, the Harpy turned her attention back to Godwin, climbing onto the bed. “I apologize, Godwin. My original intention was to perform the ritual in the first room. I wished for a proper atmosphere of mystery, and maybe even something thrilling. The best I can do now is my private room. Shall we proceed? Are you prepared?”

“I think I am…” He sat at the center of the bed, before the great griffoness, sheepishly and blushing. “You don’t have to keep calling it a ritual… I’m fine just having sex with you because you enjoy doing that, and you wanted me. Even if it is not what I expected for the meeting.”

She smiled at Godwin and stroked the feathers on his head. Bringing him closer, she caught his beak in her exquisitely adorned talon and raised it, bringing him up to kiss her. Beaks fitting together and with a quick flicking of their tongues together, she also pulled his body against hers. Gilda and Geena blinked a few times, watching as the large griffoness held him and her paws traveled over his back with a heavy touch before she let go.

“I am truly flattered, Godwin. But the reason I have come to you is the magical uncommonness of your combined virginity and ancestry.” She stroked his feathers again. “I find your youthful attractiveness titillating, but I prefer more mature and bigger griffons.”

He stared up at her with a blank expression and a slowly burning blush before he hid his face in his paws. The golden bangles and bracelets he wore jingled, and lacking the ability to disappear into thin air, he just groaned. This time, Gilda simply failed to contain herself and started laughing. Wheezing like a deranged banshee, propping herself on the bed for support or she would drop to the floor.

And exquisite floor, by the way. Black marble, polished like a mirror under a white and fluffy rug under the giant nest-like bed. White walls and ceiling holding a candelabra or black rings and white candles. The room didn’t feel cramped, but it had its fill of sitting and relaxing furniture with a vanity and a bathroom sharing the same space, but off to a corner. It showed a luxurious bathtub made in a combination of black and white stone and metals, though. It was a functional room for sleeping, and doing other things, Gilda supposed.

Giant windows let in a bit of cold air with the storm clouds just outside. They seemed to be at the top of a tower and the thunder seemed so close that it made Gilda’s fur stand, filling the air with magic.

The Harpy had returned to Godwin, stroking his feathers and smiling. “Worry not, though. I am going to enjoy this, and you should have plenty of young queens thrilled simply by the fact you have my interest.”

Gilda had contained her laughter, curious about the room, but the large griffoness and Godwin grabbed her attention again. Geena sat next to her, holding the chalice with a nervous tenseness. Like she feared everything could go wrong at any second. Finally, Gilda noted with a mischievous smile that Godwin took a good, long gander at The Harpy.

As quadrupedal creatures, they didn’t kneel. They sat with their ankles and rumps, with their forefeet on the floor for support. They could also squat if they needed to use their forelimbs. It exposed their bellies and private parts, and The Harpy sat herself upright and straight, just like that. Gilda was staring, too, and so was Geena. Mother Harpy was not only big. She was perfection. Flawlessness with a taste for powerful muscles, like a feathering stone wall covered with silky white fur. Gilda wanted to touch her, so soft and firm her stomach seemed. Her size even gave her larger and fuller mammaries that Gilda absolutely envied.

Sitting on the sheets, Godwin closed his forelegs closer to his body, hiding his erection, but he didn’t take his eyes off the large griffoness’ shapely undercarriage. It might even have been awkward if The Harpy wasn’t so convinced that she was perfection incarnate, meant to be admired and worshiped. Well, if Gilda was a goddess, she’d give herself a body like that, too. And she’d be damn proud of it as well!

At least Gilda felt shameless enough to stare. It was not like it would be impolite in that situation. To be honest, she wanted to see the great griffoness putting that thing on, too. She didn’t get a good look when they fooled around in that dream.

She didn’t have to wait much longer. The Harpy propped herself up a couple of inches, pushing her hips forward a bit. Wet white fur surrounded the delicate black lips of her slit. A little strand of clear horny griffoness distillate broke when her fingers showed her pink inside, pulling them apart, and she slowly inserted the penis-shaped side.

Gilda would have paid to see her commanding Godwin to put it in her, but she supposed the goal wasn’t to torture him.

She even let out a little moan, the crystal inside her. It fit snugly in her groin. It even made little straps of light that whipped around her thighs and coalesced into a delicate harness to secure it around her hip and in place. Fine articulate pieces of silver and amethyst ovals.

Gilda giggled a little. The Astrani needed their fun, too. If they could build extravagant crossbows, epic walls of black stone, and giant iron mines inside mountains, they could make sex toys too. Although it almost disappointed Gilda, the Harpy didn’t leave the properly shaped part outside. But it was fine. The confusion in Godwin’s face was bad enough as it was.

“Is it too late to give up?” Godwin’s crest of white feathers had flopped, but Gilda detected humor in his voice and in his smile.

“Yes, it is. I shall not allow you to leave me as I am now.” The Harpy smiled mischievously at him. “This will not be nearly as bad as you think.”

Holding his nape firmly, she guided him to lie on his side and leaned above him, kissing him, pecking at the pristine feathers on his cheek. Her beak showed a creeping smile, and she spoke something with her beak hovering above his ear. If it didn’t make her so nervous, Gilda would laugh at her own reaction, at the anxiety her whispers to Godwin caused her.

Obediently, Godwin moved little, if at all. His eyes drifted away when he saw Gilda looking at him. A black paw massaged his shoulder while the Harpy laid on her side too, behind him, with her ‘tool’ rubbing against his lower back.

“I promise I will be gentle.” She smiled and chuckled, again whispering in his ear. She pecked at the feathers on his neck, a foreleg snuggling under, dragging her talons on his white feathers, embracing him with her paw on his chest. Stroking his feathers, she held his neck and made him turn his head to meet her. She dragged the edges of her beak on his with the soft clicking noise of kissing griffons. When she pulled back, he followed her before opening his eyes and staring at her, mouth agape.

Raising her body to sit on her thigh, Gwendolen reached for the glass bottle. Uncorking it, she poured a copious volume of the thick, water-like gel to stick to the crystal tip and shaft of her… Gilda called it a massager and was done with it. The Harpy also let the lubricant drip on her little tomfriend’s testicles and his cheeks. Godwin squeaked and gave her a nervous grin. She responded with a mischievous smile.

Gilda grumbled and mumbled something she herself didn’t understand, but she was angry at the Harpy. Not sure what for, but definitely angry at her.

Her wiggling fingers touched Godwin’s balls and slid down into little circles over his butthole. Gilda watched with desperate anticipation while Geena sat by her side, holding the hourglass chalice to her chest like her life depended on it. A moment of lucidity brought to Gilda the fever dream quality of the whole situation. Then she skidded a little to the side to see The Harpy’s fingers, the meaty part before her talons, massaging her friend’s tailhole. She was really missing Gevorg’s strong touch but lacked the shamelessness to do it herself.

Godwin let a soft whimper out. With his dick resting on his thigh, the great griffoness leaned into him, licking his beak. After another moan, she covered his beak with hers, holding his hind leg up, making herself comfortable behind him. Another soft whimper escaped him with the crystal toy, touching his testicles, already wet with lube. Holding his leg taut, she pushed her hip against his rump. The tip rubbed on the root of his tail, pressed against his pink flesh, and stretched the tight muscle to penetrate him. Godwin winced and his tail whipped once at the mattress, jingling with tailrings. He let out a small groan, blushing like his feathers would catch fire.

“Give in to the pleasure, Godwin. It always hurts a little in the beginning. Allow yourself to enjoy it, too.” The large griffoness gasped softly, pushing her hip at his and burying the ‘tool’ inside deeper. When her stomach met his rump, the white and black griffoness ground her groin against his behind, playfully pecking at a feather on his head.

Gwendolen surprised Gilda, actually being gentle. It filled the latter with an unimaginable relief. She held him tight, while tenderly. Insistently grinding herself against him. His brow wrinkled into a frown and his eyes closed tightly, though. His paws reached for his groin, but the larger and stronger griffoness held them with a throatful chortling she followed with a condescending ‘tsk tsk’.

“I have to go to the bathroom…” He whined, but all he got in response was a gentle, yet forceful stroke of her beak at his soft, white facial plumage, pushing his head to sheets.

“Shush.” She ground her groin at him slowly, but without pause. One paw on his belly pulled his body to snuggle against hers. Rings and coins ringed at his tail, whipping the sheets again. His beak hung open, and his breathing turned to breathless moaning. The Harpy kept pecking at his neck and then at the top of his head. She beaked at the feathers next to his ear, with her breathing worked up too. Her voice became a steamy whisper through a lustful grin. “Let go, Godwin. Do not take from me the pleasure of hearing your moans.”

The poor tom blushed like he could set the sheets on fire, but he obeyed with a long whine, holding his eyes tight. Gilda winced and shifted her sitting rump on the bed, staring like she was ensorcelled. It didn’t look bad. She could imagine herself letting some strong tom do just that to her. He would get to hump his cute kittyfriends later. And Godwin did consent. He was just helping The Harpy and her Loremasters get what they needed.

An important thought broke through Gilda’s sluggish, horny thoughts. Godwin had agreed to it to help her convince Lady Geena to let go of the hippogriff prisoners. Gilda eyed the Allmother, and she was entertained, to say the least. Her predatory grin had softened with mellow eyes over her lover, stroking his feathers softly, moaning next to his ear. Apparently, that magical dildo worked. How much did she enjoy that? Enough to embolden Gilda.

Looking at the steamy, kinky sex, because that is what it really was, something else dawned on Gilda’s mind. If the Harpy was there, and she was horny, and focusing on Godwin, Mother Harpy would not be where she normally was. If she was not where she would normally be, she would also not be poking around inside Gilda’s head. Therefore, if Aya Harpyia would not be poking around inside Gilda’s head… That meant Gilda had free rein to do whatever she wanted behind her goddess’ back. Including guilt-tripping Lady Geena into giving her the hippogriffs.

Gilda gave the taller and bulkier loremaster a sideway glance. Her mind, distracted with horny thoughts and sensitive body parts, struggled to find the right words at first. “You know, you owe me.”

Geena winced and her talons clinked at the crystal chalice she held. Gilda could almost hear the gears in the other queen’s head, also sticky with stray thoughts of cute toms and powerful matriarchs. “I do…”

“She could have gotten furious.” Gilda poked her. Just a little further.

“I know.” Geena winced. “I already said I owe you.”

“I want the hippogriffs. The prisoners from the GSA.” Gilda spoke softly, only between themselves, under Godwin’s helpless moaning. She spoke fast, too. If she gave Geena too long to think, she might deny Gilda her request. “I’ll take them in my caravan and get them to do something useful.”

“They are sick.” Geena didn’t take it nicely. In fact, she probably felt a little like Godwin. Wincing with a frown, she didn’t take long to respond. “Fine. Take them off my paws. I suppose. It is better than to leave them to get sick and die, anyway.”

Geena ended it with a whispered huff. She likely had something in mind, but the esteemed loremaster had lost. Gilda was sure it was not the first time some griffon lady used sex for political leverage. Yeah. She would call it that. The tan griffoness grinned with pride, pleased with her own cleverness.

Back on the bed, the Harpy pulled Godwin’s beak, turning his head and forcefully kissed him, huffing with a groan that matched his guttural groans. It broke into a needy whine when Gwendolen looked up at the white griffoness with a beak-licking grin. She said nothing, but Lady Geena probably had taken part in that before. Gilda rolled her eyes. They had a chalice specifically for that.

The white griffoness smiled for a second and hopped onto the bed carrying the hourglass chalice in her beak, but then in her paws as she laid next to the couple. Godwin’s penis dripped with a milky white cream from the tip, but Geena caught it with the chalice, giggling, despite his squirming. The chalice was big enough. Godwin’s squeamish thrusts with his hip wouldn’t cause them to miss a drop. Gwendolen kept ‘massaging’ Godwin’s ‘insides’. She caressed and kissed him again, whispering into his ear. “Nice job, Godwin.”

Gilda took another step to the side so she could better see the chalice slowly gathering the… Male milk? Gilda then spoke with her best, most supportive tone, desperately trying to hide her curiosity and pretend Godwin’s long groans didn’t arouse her too. “Does it feel nice, Godwin?”

He didn’t answer. He bit the sheets and tightened his fists that Gwendolen still held. Like he was her captive, she spoke for him, hushing him in a playful tone. “It does. Deeply. Not all enjoy it, though. But he does. Do you not, sweet little lovebird of mine?”

He jerked his hip when Lady Geena squeezed his dick and pulled it softly from the enlarged base. The larger griffoness held his thigh wider apart and forced him to stretch it further and whispered to him with a mischievous grin. Rather than grinding against his rump, she pulled back an inch and thrust the crystal dong fully into his butt again. And again, and another time, before she ground herself against him again. Geena grinned like a cheeky little queen, tugging at his penis, and stroking it softly like she was trying to get every drop out. Awkward, curious to Gilda, but they knew what they were doing.

“Oh, I think he’s ready, Lady Gwendolen.” Geena giggled, running her fingers on his spiking penile spines and caused his long groan to sharpen into an urgent wail..

The Harpy stopped grinding and thrusting into him, pulling the crystal shaft out and gave him a husky command, beak right by his ear. “Stand, Godwin.”

He blushed and hid his face on the sheets, letting his wings flutter a little and panting as she stood over him, holding his nape. Her wings opened stiffly while her tight grasp guided him, tightening by the second. Her eyes shone with glee, pushing him to lower his chest onto the bed. Godwin left his rump perked and lifted his tail. His penis pointed down between his thighs while he exposed his pink butthole and his wet testicles to the dildo-wearing griffoness.

With no shame, and no small amount of urgency of her own, she mounted him. Let her weight rest on his back and slipped the crystal not-penis under his tail with one fluid movement, going all in. Instead of grinding on him, she immediately pulled back and humped him again. Godwin gave a throaty whine to her husky, smiling grunt. Twice. A little cry escaped while she didn’t let him move, forcing his hip and his body forward every time she pushed against him.

The large griffoness shuddered with a grin. Humming every time she pushed into him. Faster and repetitive, like Geena squeezing and tugging at his dick. Godwin’s breathing became a sequence of quick cries in tempo with his mistress’ thrusts.

Unable to tear her eyes from the scene, Gilda let her beak hang with a distressed frown. Not out of regret or fear for her friend, she didn’t expect to like watching it so much. her eyes focused on the strong, black-striped, white thighs and her silver clad hip pushing the crystal under the tom’s tail. His frantic cries made the large griffoness huff, grinning fiercely. Her eyes were closed, and her expression changed from her usual grim to a straining frown. A curt moan escaped her beak, and she gave out a soft chortle when Godwin’s hindlegs weakened and he cried.

Godwin thrust his hip once and then again. With a bucking thrust and needy cry, he shot a squirt of semen into the chalice. It splashed over the glass’ curve, followed by another, and a couple more, while Geena tugged at him and wiggled his member at the crystal. Like she really didn’t want to waste a single drop. The griffoness on top of him gave a luscious sigh and stroked Godwin’s face with her beak and her feathers.

“Nice job, Godwin.” Geena smiled and whiffed at the content in the chalice after she was sure he had finished dripping into it. It was a bit too much for Gilda, but ancient knowledge about griffons and their jizz… And they spoke in such an unnecessarily patronizing way, Gilda stifled a chortle.

Godwin simply stayed as he was, panting deeply, his chin to the mattress and holding the sheets with his paws. His mistress sighed, never letting go of his nape, raising her back, keeping her wings taut, and slapping her stomach at his rump a few more times. Finally, she closed her eyes and exhaled with a quick groan.

Feminine moans mixed with his throaty whines. Her firm voice came out dry with her rapid thrusts, before her huge body quaked with a sudden gasp. Her hindlegs gave and she shuddered, leaning on top of Godwin before and she backed from him, sitting on the bed. Breathing rapidly, keeping her eyes shut, letting her head hang. Gasping with a shudder, and then another.

Geena touched Gilda’s shoulder. It yanked Gilda out of the fantasy going on inside her head and interrupted her plans on how to get the Harpy to do that to her. Brought back to reality, Gilda winced and approached Godwin, laying on his side like an emptied sack of whipped cream. She did her best to hide the huskiness of her voice. “Are you okay, Godwin?”

She didn’t touch Godwin, but looked him over, making sure Geena hadn’t actually hurt him. At least his sheath was undamaged, with no cuts. She resisted the urge to glance at his hind side in fear he might die of embarrassment, though. Gilda wanted to give him a comforting touch on his shoulder, just in case, but also feared that might send the wrong message. Walking on metaphorical eggs. The feathers on his nape smelled of blood and it set Gilda’s lower belly on fire. She resisted all the base impulses and the stupid jokes that came to her mind.

“I’m fine…” He finally talked to Gilda and his blush even seemed below steel-melting temperature.

Sitting next to him, Gilda twisted the sides of her beak. The Harpy was sitting on the bed, shaking her head and reclaiming her dignity with her cold eyes. Throwing back her head and putting her feathers back in order. Resuming her stately posture. Her instrument was already laid on the bed next to her. “Uh… Can he have some sort of compensation? I mean… He lost two of his kittyfriends… And, well, his first time was supposed to be with them.”

“Stop treating him like the victim of a mugging. Virginity is an outdated concept from the time griffons traded daughters for alliances before the Empire. Honor and duty are where my children find virtue, not in lack of experience of any kind. It only mattered because of magical properties that are completely irrelevant henceforth.” Gwendolen held the chalice Geena presented to her and examined it. “Besides, if that is so important, this was a ritual, not a sexual encounter. I rarely contain myself so much.”

The big griffoness leaned over Godwin with her mischievous grin. “Although I will not be cross if you wish to tell others you had sex with me.”

“Gee…” Godwin deadpanned with his face half-buried in the messy and torn sheets, speaking between ragged breaths. “Thanks.”

Gilda chuckled while The Harpy returned the material to Lady Geena. “You know your way around the mansion. Deliver this to Madam Galathil in the dungeon.”

“Right away, your grace.” Geena cradled the chalice with her wings to painstakingly climb down to the floor. She walked like carried the ultimate and most brittle of treasures. Maybe Gilda was ignorant, but she had to cough and conceal her grin at how silly the whole thing seemed. Like it was on cue, one of the peculiar mini-harpy griffons opened the heavy doors for her. And then they happily watched the loremaster carry it past the door before closing it.

Alone with Gilda and Godwin, the Harpy pulled him so that she would sit under her. Black paw caressing his neck. “You are not some pathetic Saddani shuffling in the mud, Godwin.”

When he turned around, she caught his beak on her talon and made him look at her. “You are a Child of The Harpy. You cannot satisfy yourself with less than all. It is a desire all griffons share, and part of your journey is finding a balance between getting what you want and not losing the faith of others by taking what is theirs. It is a manifestation of the same system within the social organization of griffonkind. Social standing and privilege are the same. On the structural level, and on the interpersonal level. If you are not the one mounting another griffon, they’ll be ones mounting you. Even if their intentions are noble at heart.”

“That is a very base and vulgar analogy.” Gilda groused.

“It is if your head is filled with petty notions that sex is vulgar. It is not always pleasant, and it leaves a mess. Sometimes it hurts and others it brings comfort. It can be a torture and it can be bliss. And then everything at once, or nothing at all. But the only vulgarity is in the mind of the individual and their intentions.” Gwendolen talked down to Gilda like teaching a dumb student, and the tan griffoness pouted at her, unable to find an answer.

“I thought I was supposed to be honored and dutiful.” He kept staring at her.

“You are, but ponies live in a world of perfect rights and wrongs, not griffons. What makes a griffon follow leaders who often disrespect the traditions of a single mating that they follow? Why would a poor farmer honor a lord whose dining hall is worth more than their entire farm but wretch in disgust before the southerner politicians? That is what you must understand so you can find your place.”

“Our meeting, for example. In the olden days of the Empire, any young tom would be beside themselves with such an invitation from me.” One sitting in front of the other. His confused eyes kept staring up at her stormy gray eyes looking down on him. Gilda looked at one and the other. After Godwin lowered his gaze, holding a frown, she spoke again. “Did you enjoy it?”

He looked down, but then at her eyes, this time filled with certainty. “It’s not that I did… I didn’t not enjoy it either… It’s just that. It had to be done. And not that bad. I just didn’t like it. Does that make any sense?”

“But the important thing is that we got what we needed from it.” He stuffed his chest proudly in front of the Allmother.

“Did we? I did. Geena did. Gilda did. Did you?” Her black beak twisted with a sharp smile and her eyes filled with a teasing glee. “What was it you wanted, Godwin?”

Something about the way she said it made Gilda’s skin crawl. The emphasis on him and on her. She could not be aware of the deal with Geena. Regardless, Godwin looked at her. He looked at Gilda. He looked back at Aya Harpyia with a pensive frown. All his certainty turned into a frown.

The Allmother grinned, all mischievousness at Godwin again. “You understand, more than you give yourself credit for. Naivety is a budding disease better extirpated soon, Godwin.”

Gilda glared at the black and white griffoness for taunting Godwin. Then she turned her worried frown to Godwin. He glared up at the black and white feathers on Allmother’s face. So much tension in the air, Gilda could rip with her talons. But then his glare turned into a frown. Gilda wished she could read his thoughts.

Gwendolen chuckled, opening her black and white wings. “A young griffon’s life is not a battle, Godwin. It is a war, and it is constancy that wins wars, not single battles. We will live close by, Godwin. And this meeting has barely begun. I will be watching you to see what you will do with what you learned. But for now, I must use the privy. Enjoy the meeting, Godwin. Gilda. Soon you will leave the safety of Frozenlake. You will take lives and suffer the harsh weather. Fighting monsters and dissent, ambushes, and perils. Enjoy my gifts. Whenever you can. I only give them to griffons I infatuated myself with.”

With much less theatrics than last time, the Harpy teleported with them back to the grand hall where the party happened. Godwin’s lanky, black and white kittyfriend shrieked at them popping back into existence.

It was disorienting and nauseating as before. But Gilda, at least, had time to prepare herself. And once they were done, the Harpy turned on her hindlegs and hopped off the bed, trotting on the white and black marble, chiming all her accessories with her, until she reached the pillars marking the end of the hall. Leaping, she gained flight, beating her wings and vanishing in a dive from the balcony. Godwin stood there, sitting on the bed, and staring at the pillars and the storm beyond.

“You’re not going Nightmare Moon on us, are you?” Gilda raised an eyebrow at him, but then gave him her playful smile.

Godwin deadpanned. “Seriously?”

Gilda blinked and sighed, hanging her shaking head before she gave him an apologetic grin. “Sorry. My head is fuzzy. Did she hurt you?”

“Yeah, my head is not in the right place either, it seems.” He cocked an eyebrow. “But no, it didn’t really hurt. After a while, at least. But it was weird, and I don’t want to talk about it. I certainly don’t want to do it again.”

Fair. Gilda nodded and offered a wing for him to walk with her. Those stupid coins made walking on the bed an exercise in tinkling awkwardness, but they were again with their friends. Godwin’s three suitors sat next to the edge of the enormous bed. Greeting them with huge eyes. Grunhilda and Gevorg too, and all stared at them. Gilda couldn’t gauge the stares on the three young griffonesses, though.

Grunhilda let escape a little giggle. “Do you need a fluffy pillow or something?”

Seriously, Grunhilda has been teasing Godwin the whole day. She was getting out of control. It might be she, too, was feeling odd with that place and that red dust the Harpy had immersed them in, but she could have kept her beak shut. Soon, Gilda would have to take care of Grunhilda’s unruly behavior. She just hoped she could actually punish Big Girl and her horny ass without being cruel or her enjoying it.

Gilda massaged the side of her head… Maybe she should not think like the Harpy and have a mature conversation. Godwin had ignored Grunhilda, anyway.

And speaking of enjoying it, Godwin was more important now, anyway. Gilda sat next to him with his three kittyfriends sitting next to the bed and looking up at him. The lanky, black furred and white feathered one frowned and pouted. Gilda laughed at how adorable, angrily fuming she was. The white fluffy chest made a pleasant contrast to her black fur. The black spots on her little bang of feathers too, but her wings were half and half. “Is it our turn yet?!”

Beautiful, black speckled green eyes that could use some wisdom as a spanking. But before Gilda could say anything, Godwin spoke for her. “You know what? It is.”

Gilda turned to him and blinked at his words.