Author's Note

Welcome to Feathered Hearts: Eros! For those unfamiliar with the parent story, this takes place in the Gentlemanverse during the first diplomatic visit of humanity to the Griffon Kingdom, which is overseas from Equestria, where the portal to Earth is located. The parent T-rated story, for those who haven't seen it yet, is here:

[Adult story embed hidden]

The parent story, or main story as I call it, features an older and more mature Gilda as the protagonist. Regardless, I've attempted to write this side story so that you don't need to read the main story, as each of the main characters outside of Gilda (who everybody knows!) get their own quick introduction.

We start here with a standalone erotic tale involving Gilda's wing-griffon Fortrakt Gletscher, soldier of the Kingdom and twenty-year old griffon male, which they call tiercels. As the chapter title implies, It takes place off-camera after the end of chapter 7 of the main story.

Every chapter title will indicate what main story chapter it occurs after as the first number. You will also have content warnings in spoiler tags on it up front in the Author's Notes, so you can decide what themes and fetishes you do or don't want to read. The main story page also contains a chapter-by-chapter list of fetish content. If you want more information, check out the introductory blog:

https://www.fimfiction.net/story/495844/feathered-hearts-eros

Thanks go to prereaders AJ_Aficionado, SIlentwoodfire, and Silverblade5 for their input and edits. Some of what you read in this story came from their suggestions!

—Firesight

Chapter contains: Griffon male/solo, uncontrolled arousal, involuntary exhibitionism, autofellatio, self-creaming, and some mild voyeurism by other griffons.

7.1 - Fortrakt's Flight

As he stood hunched over and huddled in the hallway nook he found himself trapped in, the severely aroused and equally mortified Fortrakt Gletscher, proud soldier of the Griffon Kingdom and liaison to the human civilians attached to their first diplomatic mission to his nation, was certain that not just his partner Gilda, but all his Ancestors were laughing at him.

But he couldn’t help it; his hindquarters glued to the corner of the Winged Hall Inn behind him lest the human soldiers around him saw his unbearably excited state, in the form of an enormous and very engorged eaglehood in full display beneath his lower belly; nearly three talon lengths long with a bulb-shaped base and tapered tip.

It had been nearly a week since his last climax—an eternity for the twenty-year-old tiercel. What had he been thinking when he thought he could abstain for a full ten days, hoping to save himself up for his first mating round with an eagless on his next leave?

And not after seeing Tara Fields, the golden-maned human woman he had come to not just respect but desire in the few short days he had known her, behave like a proud griffon by taking down an insulting rival with a single savage blow. And not after an unsympathetic Gilda’s endless assault of innuendoes which had only fed his fight-fueled fantasies further, leaving his loins ready to burst.

All he could do was stand there and take it as Gilda taunted him, praying her innuendoes alone didn’t send him over the edge, or alert the humans standing around him to his state. “So, what’s the holdup, Second Spear? I know your feathers were ruffled and you now need some serious preening—”

Fortrakt flinched hard at her words, praying that the humans studying his shivering form in some confusion didn’t know that preening meant a form of more casual griffon sex known as wingplay—“but your wings will have to wait since we need to present our side of this fight to Lieutenant Nantz first.

“And who knows? Since she thanked you, maybe you can teach Tara to properly groom them later,” Gilda further suggested with a deliberately casual air, leaving Fortrakt both amazed and appalled that she could so smoothly tease him without alerting the humans to it. Worse, the tease had the desired effect as the thought of Tara grooming them left him vividly fantasizing about the human female running her human hands all over his wings and flight muscles, feeling up his powerful and predatory form from head to toe.

“But th-that’s… I…” He clenched his beak to keep his wings from flaring into full arousal along with his eaglehood. He tried to pin them against the diverging walls that connected to the corner he was in, only to feel them rise further from their normally furled positions at his sides.

But to little surprise, Gilda didn’t relent, her evil grin growing as the humans continued to study him curiously. Tara’s friend Chris was even looking at him slightly askance, like he thought something might be up; Fortrakt’s eyes flicked to him nervously, feeling his organ impossibly engorge further at his scrutiny. “Look, you want to help Tara, right? Well, the sooner we get this cleared up, the sooner you can take her somewhere you’d like,” she suggested with a note of glee.

Take her… He inhaled another shuddering breath at yet another subtly delivered suggestion, suddenly seeing a vivid image of Tara on all fours before him like a griffon, inviting to fill either of her inviting orifices—to be the first tiercel ever to rut a human female; to know the heat, feel, and depths of her very nest!

In truth, he had no idea what she actually looked like naked given that humans always wore clothes. But that didn’t stop him from fantasizing about her, especially given he’d already gotten to touch her shoulders—a very intimate area for griffons given it held the base of their wings and flight muscles—when she invited him to check out her ‘tattoo’; stylized skin art that he took as a form of human cutie mark.

She let me touch her shoulders even without a mating round… her skin was so soft… and she smelled so good… he remembered, causing his green eyes to glaze and his impressive eaglehood—which griffon tiercels sometimes affectionately called their ‘spears’, given their warrior heritage—to throb further. If her shoulders feel so soft, then what will the rest of her feel like…? His talons began to flex at the wooden floor beneath his foreclaws.

He started to close his eyes to imagine it only to snap them open again, remembering where he was. But Gilda made sure once again that his thoughts did not stray far from outright fantasy, thanks to her next tease. “Maybe you can go out to the markets with her, Chris and Marco later. I’m sure you can find something special for her to taste—you know, some thick and meaty griffon treat?” She winked at him.

His jaw dropped open as yet another new and even more taboo image suggested itself. “S-stop it…” he all but begged her as he suddenly imagined his meat deep within her beakless muzzle, exquisitely enveloped by her wonderfully malleable lips and luscious human tongue. The lurid vision was almost enough to make him explode on the spot, and very nearly buckle his knees.

But true to form, Gilda did not relent. “Stop what? I’m sure Tara would greatly appreciate you coming for her. I mean, it’s not hard—” his older partner paused long enough to make sure he heard the emphasis on the two words as Fortrakt could only whimper; he could see she was trying very hard not to laugh as she finally went in for the kill.

“After all, you’ll just have to stand directly in front of Tara as you testify to the Lieutenant. Let her see for herself just how professional and honorable a griffon soldier you are!” she finished with no little relish. “I’m sure she’d be very impressed by what she sees!”

Fortrakt nearly came right then and there at the idea of Tara seeing his state—to say nothing of everycreature else! “Decurion…” the young and sorely aroused tiercel all but hissed out Gilda’s rank, shrinking himself back further into the corner even as his wings flared wider against the not-quite constraining walls, threatening to pop fully erect right in front of the bemused humans. With a worried glance at Chris, who was studying him closely and spoke the griffon tongue, he switched to his native language of Aeric and talked quickly, praying it would be too fast for him to understand.

“Will you please stop teasing me? You know why I can’t go with you!” He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, trying with all his faltering will to hold off the orgasm that he still sat at the very edge of; he had never in all his life or flights of sensual fancy felt so ready to burst! “By all the crows of the Kingdom and for the love of our most sacred Ancestors, stop cracking jokes and get me out of this!” he pleaded in desperation even as Gilda’s taunts over Tara played in his head on an endless loop.

So hard… take her… come for her… teach her to preen me… let her fondle my feathers… feel up my flight muscles… feed her my thick and meaty griffon treat… then stand in front of her so she can see how honorable and… and h-how BIG I am! His mind endlessly recited Gilda’s lewd and lurid teases back to him, leaving the doorway to his quarters at the other end of the hall feeling like it was a thousand leagues away.

“Fine,” she finally relented to his great relief, still speaking in Equish. “We’ll go on ahead. Take care of your business, and then report to the Lieutenant’s office to testify on Miss Fields’ behalf,” she ordered him, though she never lost her grin.

“Y-yes, s-sir…” he all but squeaked, giving her a half-grateful, half-lethal look as she led the group of humans away from him. Is sh-she being nice, or did she just run out of puns? He couldn’t help but wonder, praying the cracking dam holding back his coming climax would wait just a couple minutes more.

He kept his hindquarters glued to his corner until Gilda and the humans were out of sight, listening as their footfalls receded, straining hard to make sure he couldn’t hear anything from the other direction either. And then, taking a deep but ragged breath, he pushed out from his corner and bolted down the hallway, sprinting for his quarters at the other end of the corridor while praying that no griffons or humans came out of their rooms to see him.

To his initial relief, none did, but he still found the going increasingly difficult and his room impossibly far away. As he ran, his engorged organ throbbed and tingled so fiercely he couldn’t keep his balance, causing him to stumble repeatedly; he feared he was going to climax from leg friction and wind stimulation alone as he was forced to keep his hind legs wide to try to forestall it.

If I don’t die of embarrassment in the next minute, I swear by the slits, sacs and shafts of my most sacred Ancestors that I’ll get you BACK for this, Gilda! he made a mental oath, even if he had no idea how he was going to do so, given he had yet to figure out anything—or anycreature!—that turned her on.

Worse, he looked back to realize he was leaving a barely-broken trail of sensual drool and even seed spatters on the wooden floor oozed out by his endlessly—and very exquisitely—twitching eagle organ beneath him; the wetness glittering in places where occasional beams of sunlight through the ceiling skylights hit it just right.

It wasn’t just his swollen spear, either. Finally free of their walled constriction, his sky griffon wings flared so hard and wide they scraped both sides of the corridor and caught repeatedly on doors and pictures as he ran, knocking the latter askew, tweaking his taut feathers further and only adding to his stimulation.

He even accidentally swept a sculpture off its pedestal with a wing passage as he kept stumbling in his increasingly panicked efforts to reach his room before somecreature saw him; it fell to the floor with a loud clatter that he was certain could be heard throughout the Winged Hall Inn.

But he dared not stop to pick it back up; his sac more swollen with seed than he could ever remember and large gryphon malehood all but about to explode, not just from Gilda’s teases but from the image of Tara—exotic, interesting and very alluring Tara—acting the part of an eagless, delivering very griffon-like justice to a fellow human female who had slandered her and her friends.

Unbalanced by his wings, and the need to hold his hind legs wide to provide as little friction to his intimate areas as possible, his foretalons snagged carpet as he sprinted through the junction and common area of two hallways; he’d run through it in hopes he’d be moving too fast to be seen by anycreature in the cross-corridor. The sudden snare caused him to trip and tumble head over heels; he was only barely able to turn his wings over so they wouldn’t be painfully bent and pinned.

Unable to roll properly due to his enormous erection and stiffened aerial appendages, the impact jarred him hard, and when his senses returned, he found himself on his back in the middle of the junction’s common area with his wings flared to their maximum extension, staring up into the ceiling skylight through which poured in sunlight, illuminating him clearly.

Focusing with some difficulty, he realized he lay on the floor in a literal sunbeam; his foretalons still stuck in the thick carpet pile of the common area leaving his arms pinned over his head; his legs spread wide with his prized and as-yet-unused dark red eaglehood standing like a sentinel stiffly and proudly over his belly. Trapped by his caught foretalons and the weight of his stiff and now-useless wings, he realized he was trapped where he was; his arousal evident for anycreature who came down either corridor—or flew over the skylight!—to see!

“B-by my Ancestors…” He stared down in mingled headiness and horror at his state. As he watched, the tapered and slightly bumpy head of his organ impossibly began swelling and throbbing even harder at the idea he might be seen, a steady stream of fluid oozing out the top and down the side, pooling in his sheath until it overflowed and ran down the junction of his swollen seed factories.

His heart froze as movement above him caught his eye; he saw a flying earth griffon eagless pass not far over the skylight—and did she look down at him for a moment?—and worse, he then heard human voices further down the cross-corridor getting closer as Marine sentries did one of their usual walking patrols.

Crows only knew what would happen when they spotted him. Would they react with interest or revulsion? Would they help him up, or just leave him there to enjoy the scene? Would they like what they saw? If they did, maybe they’d call their comrades to witness him as well! Maybe they’d just take out their magical devices and record him! Maybe they’d tease him as mercilessly as Gilda had! Force him to cream all over himself and then use their devices to later show his helpless display to everycreature!

The idea as titillating as it was terrifying, he felt a shiver of pure passion and pleasure pass through him as he never had felt before in any of his young life’s many masturbatory sessions. His body tensed hard as his loins again attempted to empty the copious contents of his sac all over him right then and there, leaving it all he could do to keep himself from climaxing.

“N-no…” he begged weakly through his squeezed-shut eyes and a clenched beak, more certain than ever that not just his Ancestors, but the Gods of Griffondom themselves were toying with him now. And worse, he heard the human sentries coming closer; within seconds they’d turn the corner on the corridor and it would be impossible for them not to see him sprawled out in the sunlight with his claws caught on the carpet, leaving his aroused wings and sensual spear in full display!

And yet, for a single, tantalizing moment, Fortrakt was sorely tempted to give into the impossibly tempting fantasy. To let them find him, hoping they’d not only see but record him, and then show it to others—maybe even Tara! That would allow her to see for herself not just how aroused, but how endowed and utterly virile he was! How much he could offer her! How much he wanted her! And surely then she’d desire him…?

But to his great relief and equally forlorn disappointment, the sound of the sentries receded as they turned back instead of turning down the cross-corridor, leaving him shaking and starting to sweat through his headfeathers. I… I actually WANT to be seen…? he realized in shock, a fresh fantasy of the lounges around him filled with humans and griffons, all watching him hopelessly aroused and helplessly creaming himself, giving the unlikely but undeniable answer to the fevered thought.

Finally freeing one set of his foretalons from their rug-bound bondage, he began reaching down to his throbbing tiercel tower in response to the persistent fantasy of being found, only to jerk back at the last moment. “No!” he hissed out the word, finally finding the strength to resist at the sharp mental reminder that Tara needed him, and he could hardly defend her actions and honor like this! “Crows take it… this is not the time…”

And yet, the Gods themselves seemed determined to make him their toy as he began to pull himself back up, only to find that his sex-stiffened wings still left him all but trapped on his back. And then he heard a second set of voices, these ones Aeric—the Inn’s earth pony cleaning staff!—coming from the other direction as they went from room to room.

His mind racing as he found himself staring down towards the sounds, his hindquarters, seed-swollen orbs and enormous erection facing the direction from which the voices came, he realized the only way out of his predicament was to roll his hindquarters backwards over his head to keep his wings out of the way while he got back upright.

An act that would normally be very easy for his lithe and muscular sky griffon form except for having only one set of foretalons available, to say nothing of his helplessly aroused wings holding his middle down like an airship anchor.

Taking another ragged breath, he began to do so, arching his feline spine up and pushing off the floor with his left set of talons alone. It gave him just enough leverage to do it, if agonizingly slowly, and worse, as he rolled his hindquarters backwards, he watched his own exquisitely engorged eaglehood steadily approaching his head.

As it neared, it drooled its slow but seemingly endless stream of essence over his light-furred cougar-furred belly, his dark-feathered golden eagle chest, and finally his own chin. His cheeks flushed further when the tip of his spear passed barely a talon length from his nose as his loins passed directly over his head, leaving his predator senses oversaturated with the sight and smell of his own spear and spunk. A succession of clear drops started dribbling directly onto his mouth, even finding their way into the space between the two halves of his beak, forcing him to sample his own seed.

By my ancestors… that’s… He had never tasted the product of his loins before, realizing only then that the spoor and flavor was not only inoffensive, but strangely heady to him, and he found his tongue automatically licking his beak clean of all of it. I… I like it?

It was so compelling in the state he was in, that he paused in mid-roll. He inspected every ridge and throbbing vein of his sensual spear closely as he never had before, newly enamored of its divine form and function; fascinated by the fresh bead of fluid he saw steadily building at its tapered tip.

He then wondered if he could pleasure himself with his beak—a piece of predator anatomy that made oral stimulation of phalluses difficult if not outright dangerous for griffons. But the sound of voices snapped him out of his rutting reverie again—what… what am I DOING? he asked himself in disbelief, only for the impossibly erotic idea of being seen by human or griffon observers—or both!—to rear its tapered head again.

And this time, he couldn’t resist its pull.

He took a deep but ragged breath as his hind legs tensed, his claws splaying and waving in the air as they sought purchase that wasn’t there. As he watched in mingled eagerness and terror, his sac contracted, and then retracted all the way back into his body as the long-building wave of his sensual release finally readied to break. By the crows, I’m g-going to cream myself… r-right here… in the open… where everycreature can… can SEE me!

But instead of tainting his coming climax with fear, it only added more erotic flavor to the inevitable outcome as his unbalanced and quickly tensing hindquarters fell over backwards, causing his own supremely sensual spear to lower further towards his head. Its twitching tip poised at and then pushed into his mouth, prying its way with uncanny precision between the clamshell halves of his beak.

With no other options, he opened his beak to accept it and enveloped his own spurting eagle organ within its interior as it began to erupt directly into his waiting maw. Five days of abstinence followed by fifteen minutes of endless stimulation quickly filled his beak to capacity, leaving it all he could do to swallow his own sensual fluids lest they got all over his face.

He trilled his pleasure at the incredibly taboo act—no self-respecting tiercel would orally pleasure his own organ or eat his own essence!—but he couldn’t help it, turned on by not just Tara’s actions and Gilda’s teases, but by his own public display.

As he rode the waves of pleasure that wracked him, his eaglehood ejecting streamer after streamer of thick liquid cream into his open and eager beak, he fantasized about taking Tara or even just being witnessed by her; by being caught by the human Marines—about being the center of attention of all of them as they made him come just by seeing and teasing him, recording him on their magical portal devices all the while.

Even about being taken advantage of by them as his stiff wings and trapped foretalons meant there was no way he could stop Tara or the male Marines from having their way with him, in whatever deviant manner humans had!

“Yes... Yes! Yes!” He couldn’t stop himself from emitting a series of muffled shouts around beakfulls of his own meat and seed, powered by pure passion coming from the sheer rightness of such an unlikely and ungriffon-like fantasy. He might have been ashamed of his thoughts, but he couldn’t help it—he had never felt such a powerful climax or compelling sexual fantasy in his life!

A half minute later, he came off his orgasmic high to realize that impossibly, his unheard-of act might have saved him—he had caught most of his cream in his own muzzle, thus preventing it from coating his face and chest—aside from some that was dribbling off the side of his beak onto his chin, that was!

He licked it clean of every drop as he felt lightheaded, his tongue and entire body tingling with erotic release as his now-weakened hind legs rolled forward again, prying his spear from his beak.

“Crows above, that felt so… good…” he acknowledged in wonder. The smell and taste of his own essence still lay heavy on his tongue as he found himself on his back again, staring up into the ceiling skylight as this time a pair of green-armored Paladin soldiers—guardians of the Queen herself—passed low overhead.

One of them—an eagless—looked down and saw him. She did a double-take in the air as she took in the sight of a aroused tiercel lying on the floor beneath the skylight with his flared wings and still-swollen spear prominent, motioning to his companion, who also saw him and gaped, the pair then circling in for a closer look.

They see me! he realized, and incredibly, Fortrakt’s wings and spear started to grow rigid again under their scrutiny.

But this time, enough of his passion was spent to be replaced by at least a small measure of panic. “Wh-what? By all the crows in the Kingdom, no!” Having regained at least some measure of his senses, he took advantage of the former’s half-flaccid state to complete his backwards roll and resume his delayed dash for his room, praying they didn’t come looking for him.

Arriving before his door—and he looked back to see that he was still dribbling the dregs of his climax onto the floor all the way down the hall!—he fumbled with an interior pocket attached to one of his shoulder pauldrons. With some effort, he pulled out but then dropped his room key twice from his shaking talons as he heard the cleaning crew’s voice again from the next room over, where there was an open door held ajar with a supply cart.

The second time, the key bounced and skittered under his door just as his wings and eaglehood were reaching full arousal again. Whimpering like a cornered animal and wondering again if not just his Ancestors but the Griffon Gods themselves were toying with him, he crouched down on his forequarters and then stuck a single talon beneath the door. Spotting the key’s metal gleam, he was just able to get a clawtip on it as the cleaning crew finished up the next room. He pulled it out with a relieved sigh and on the third try, he was able to insert it into the lock.

The door clicked open, and he turned himself sideways, forced to sidle in because of his flared wings. Once they were clear of the opening, he slammed the door shut behind him, sinking hard to his haunches and trembling at the knowledge he was safe.

“Crows above… did I affront an Ancestor in a previous life?” he wondered as he stared down at his excited state in disbelief, realizing he was still too aroused to leave. “F-fail to satisfy them or acted dishonorably? And is th-this then my punishment? To be endlessly turned on by not just Tara, but by thoughts of being seen?” He had no other explanation for all that he had endured at that moment.

And worse, it wasn’t done yet. Stripping off the pauldrons that protected his shoulders and otherwise denoted his military rank, he headed for the washroom, or tried to, finding his progress nearly as slow as it had been in the hallway. His flared wings and large phallic prominence again making it hard to move, he walked wide-legged towards his washroom tiercel-sized tub.

Reaching it, he climbed inside it and used it to prop himself up, laying on his back beneath the showerhead; his flared wings hanging out the sides and pushing against the nearest wall. “I really hope you’re happy about this, Gilda…” he said shakily as he reached down to begin stroking himself as he had so many times before as a teen, but not once during the past week, drawing a shuddering breath at how strong the sensations were on his stretched spear, even after already coming once.

It was an ill-thought period of abstinence that was involuntarily ending as he once again closed his eyes, fantasizing about everything from Tara to Gilda’s taunts to the idea of being watched and recorded by humans and griffons alike. He even imagined himself the pin-up on some pony adult magazines he’d seen as a teen; the centerfold feature of Playmare’s interspecies edition where he could be drooled over by needy mares and curious colt-cuddlers alike.

“But… but… why would I want that?” he still didn’t understand as he continued to stroke himself, but nor could he deny the fantasy’s pull on his sensually-battered psyche. And this time, he came in under a minute as his back arched and his hips bucked hard, his neck hanging out the back of the tub as he trilled his pleasure.

His focus narrowing to the curved and tapered shaft of fiery flesh held in his talons, he felt his loins erupt a second time, this time all over himself, covering his chest and face with seemingly endless amounts of thick, creamy griffon seed. Despite how stretched out his spine was, Some even arced out high enough to find his face again, and he opened his muzzle to receive it, crying out his pleasure as he rode his orgasm to its full rapture and very exquisite fulfillment.

When it was finally over some thirty seconds later, he collapsed back into the tub; the dark golden eagle feathers of his chin as well as the light brown cougar fur of his matted belly covered with cream. “I think I’m addicted now…” he admitted to himself as he licked his beak clean of it again, then raised his talons to his tongue to taste his own essence again. He might have gathered even more from his seed-soaked body to bring to his beak, but he was roused out of his dreamy daze by the sounds of cheering griffons above him.

In shock, he looked up to see the two Paladins from earlier hovering over his washroom skylight—he’d been in such a hurry to relieve his urges he’d forgotten to flip the switch that would turn the clear crystal surface opaque to the outside!—clapping and trilling their acclaim as his cheeks turned a fierce red.

Worse, several other griffons were now present, both civilian and military, apparently attracted by curiosity over whatever the initial pair were watching. The switch to block their view was out of reach by the door, and he now lay in the bathtub with his still-stiff wings and only barely-softened eaglehood still prominent. It remained held in one set of his talons while the other had been brought to his beak, his tongue frozen in mid-lick against them, his upper body covered in copious amounts of his own seed for all of them to see.

Seeing his wide green eyes set upon them, the two Paladins came to attention and saluted him crisply, thumping their right set of curled talons to the left side of their chests even though he was a lower rank. And then they flew off laughing, as did the other onlookers. And was it his imagination, or was the tiercel soldier showing a hint of an erection as well?

He wasn’t sure, having had only a brief glimpse, but the idea that another griffon—better yet, another male griffon!—got turned on by his display was undeniably exciting. “They all saw me…” he knew as he slumped back into the tub, his body trembling. “And they all watched me…” As the words sunk into his still-reeling psyche, his wings flared and loins engorged hard yet again, leaving him staring down at his now-thrice erect eaglehood in disbelief.

“By the Ancestors and all that is holy, will I ever go down…?” he asked in a shaky voice as he began to stroke himself yet again, though this time, with his desire to be seen at least briefly satisfied, he came to a far simpler and more conventional fantasy that he was taking Tara in the bathtub at that moment.

He closed his eyes and imagined he was rutting her from his back, the human female atop him—and what kind of tiercel desired that?—while running his talons all over her deliciously soft shoulders; his spear buried so deep within her from beneath her that he delivered his essence straight to her inner nest.

His seed so powerful and potent that even though she was human and not in season, it still made her fertile and impregnated her with his cubs!

And after that climax, which coated what little uncovered area of his body remained with his cream, his eaglehood finally shrank back into its sheath “It’s… it’s finally over…” Fortrakt said shakily, wondering if he could even show his face in public now. Sh-should be okay. P-probably no chance I’ll run into any of them given how big the city is. I-I’ll be fine just so long as Gilda doesn’t know and nocreature else sees me like--

He wasn’t able to finish the thought before the door to the washroom opened and the Caleponian cleaning crew entered. “BEGORRAH!” The two aproned earth pony mares shouted at the sight of him before backing out of the room quickly and slamming the door behind them.

He went fully erect again.