Chapters Boring Unsexy Exposition Chapter
Like all days, this smoggy and stifling day in Fillydelphia began early. The heavy workload constantly threatening to kill any slaves that managed to survive the brutal onslaught from both the overseers and their fellow permanently indentured ponies. The skies illuminated dimly, only allowing crimson bands of light to pierce through the cloud cover that had only darkened with the results of rampant industrialization poisoning the land further. Already the whirring of auto-axes, gunshots, and the overwhelming misery grated on Murky's mind as the little pony's eyes peeked open. He rose to his hooves, bits of errant hay far too foul to consider eating sticking to his underside from a night of sleep in the same spot. Dreams didn't come to him often, he was too tired to dream most nights, his body worked beyond the point of exhaustion.
An uneasy feeling hung in the air today, Whiplash hesitant to really yell or force Murky to go to his job. It seemed as if the overseer was waiting for something. With the sun beginning to creep up over the horizon, illuminating the cloud layer slightly, it would be easily another hour before any sunlight made it to Fillydelphia over the high wall around the city. Murky couldn't sleep in any later, he simply wasn't used to this. He slipped out through the little door in the enclosure he'd hunkered down in, the little enclosure only he was small enough to slip into, and took a look around the Fun Farm. Murky was greeted with the usual sight, downtrodden slaves with tired eyes all coming to and from their places of work. Though, in this case, only the night shift workers were returning, not being replaced by the morning shifters.
Whiplash stood outside his quarters uneasily, the namesake whip held aloft at his side in a sickly beige glow of magic, he looked ready to retreat back into his residence at any second. Just as it seemed the coast was clear and the slaves were about to leave and go to work, Red Eye's loudspeakers crackled and popped in the way only ancient technology left to rot could. The music and prerecorded announcements halted as Red Eye's voice came to Fillydelphia live from his office.
"Good morning Fillydelphia." Red Eye's voice was smooth, but not pleasantly so. Like a puff of cigarette smoke in your face. Smooth, but grating, like coarse sand against soft skin. "I'm sure many of you new arrivals are unaware or woefully uninformed as to what today will bring." he paused his speech as if he knew Murky, among many others, fearfully hung on his every word. "But for those of you who have been here long enough to know what happens today, I congratulate you for that exceptional endurance." he says cheerfully. "I won't spoil the surprise for any of you, my little slaves, but today begins a special Fillydelphia tradition we lovingly call Milk Week."
Murky was, for lack of a better word, confused. Milk Week? This was what had everypony so nervous? Murky was even noting the was his would-be bullies were huddled together near some form of cover. They paid him no mind as he passed by, intent on finding out about this Milk Week from Whiplash. That is, if he could get an answer without also getting a new gash on his back, or face, that depended on how generous the master was feeling.
"Uhm. Master?" The words rolled a little too easily from the lifetime slave, but he'd caught Whiplash's attention, "What's, uh." Murky tripped over his words, "Th-the milk week master Red Eye was talking about?" Murky manages to force the words from his mouth.
Whiplash turned to face the slave well after he'd finished his question, "Uh." his own usual gruff confidence was gone, he still watched the skies anxiously. Whiplash shook his head, mustering up his typical personality and shouting out to the group of slaves, "All of you's lazy wretches! Get to work! I don't care if you make it there, just get your tails movin'!" Whiplash shouts, the end of his sentence more directed at Murky.
With decreased hesitance, the morning shift slaves get up from their cowering in the dirt and had towards the gate leading out of the Fun Farm. Murky followed suit, getting his little tail moving just as the overseer readied his whip. Off to another day of work at the steel mill. It was a fairly long walk between the Fun Farm and the steel mill, one whose rough gravelly trails and rougher pavement sections were none too kind to Murky's weak little hooves. While the guards usually dissuaded slaves from gathering too tightly, lest they be hiding something, the guard presence seemed exceedingly thin today. Only a single nervous stallion with a baton stood at a gate usually guarded by no less than two battle saddles. This lone guard said nothing to the bunched-up groups of slaves that meandered carefully by, in fact he looked envious.
Murky's train of thought was interrupted by the quiet rustle of feathers through the air, some of Red Eye's Talon guards were passing overhead. This was not an uncommon sight, given how many griffons called Fillydelphia home, what was uncommon was how low they were flying. While they usually kept up a few stories in the catwalks, today they were flying just a few feet overhead. The wind gusted and threw Murky's mane in his eyes as a griffon passed just over the crowd, prompting the group of slaves to scatter, breaking into mad dashes in all directions as they ran for cover.
A larger stallion was set upon by two griffons who grabbed the screaming pony by his legs and wrenched him up into the sky. As soon as they'd come, the griffons were gone and the group came back together fearfully. Murky clung to the side, right next to a grizzly mare who didn't take kindly to how close he was getting. She pushed him away twice before rudely telling him to go be bait somewhere else.
What in the world was going on here? The little pony shivered, worming his way into the group from behind. Griffons usually never even paid the slaves any attention unless there was a riot or a breakout attempt. The steel mill wasn't too far from here, Murky and four ponies broke off from the group to head to the steel mill, the others were destined for somewhere else. Murky broke the silence asking an older slave, "What's happening? Why did they take him?"
The slave replied that he didn't know. As they got within range of the steel mill, the front doors opened slowly and Wicked Slit tried to usher them in. Just ten or so more feet until they made it in. Wicked's eyes went wide as Murky's ears picked up the rustling sound again, he made a break for it. Murky's sudden sprint broke the tension and prompted the other ponies to run as well, breaking his lead and leaving him behind. So close!
There was a heavy WHUMP behind Murky as his legs ran out from under his body which refused to move forward. Once the rest of the slaves were inside, Wicked slammed the door with a panicked look, leaving Murky trapped alone outside.
As he turned around to see what his tail had caught on, he saw the little bundle of dirty yellow fluff was wrapped tightly by a large set of talons, his gaze climbed further upward to see the griffon that had ahold of him. She was one of the top brass among the griffons, one of Red Eye's closest. While an average griffon stood over an average pony, a larger griffon completely dwarfed a runty pony in a way that would be funny if it weren't so terrifying.
Murky's blood ran cold, colder than it usually ran due to his constant illness. Oh goddesses, this was it, this was the end. Murky was going to die before he even had a chance to live a life for himself! Before he could form a sentence, his mind was shouting desperate prayers to every deity he could think of; Celestia, Luna, even pony Allah in case he was listening. Visions of how he might die flooded through Murky's brain, no doubt fueled by past taunting from the other slaves. He began to do what he did best, cry and beg for his life.
In the middle of Murky's blubbering, Stern's talons wrapped around his midsection, lifting him up to examine him closely. The griffon mercenary who just last week blasted a pony to pieces for daring to resist having his foal taken from him, spoke.
"You poor thing."
Author's Note
I have no real comments to say, I'm ashamed I couldn't actually get to the juicy parts but during the process of writing my poor meat was beaten mercilessly; harder than a 1950's housewife who left a casserole in the oven too long.
Murky paused amid his blubbering and bargaining for his life, 'You poor thing'? That sounded almost compassionate, which was reason for even more worrying for the runtiest pony in all of Fillydelphia. He felt even more scared, concluding that this could only end in an even more slow and painful death than he was expecting moments ago. There was already no chance of escape, Stern's talons wrapped almost entirely around his malnourished form, he imagined she could just squeeze the life out of him if she so chose.
A grin spread itself across Stern's face, menacing as anything else she did given her reputation and overall position in the society of Fillydelphia. A second griffon lands nearby, approaching Stern from the side with a curious look before she spoke in a sly tone, "Oh cap, I didn't know that was your type." she jeered, pointing a sharp talon at Murky held aloft in Stern's hand. He didn't dare speak up, four razor sharp guillotines wrapped around his body, he'd probably live a few minutes more if he held his tongue.
Stern's head rotated just enough to face an eye at the second griffon as she continued, her taunts going to a more casual tone, "You thinking of sharing?" she asks. Stern's feathers ruffled, making her seem larger in her apparent frustration as she replied with a hateful "No. He's mine." Murky's eyes went wide, by Celestia's glorious flanks they were going to eat him! He probably would have wet himself in sheer terror had he actually drank enough water, instead he could only shiver in her dangerous grasp.
"Aw come on, you know how hard it is t-"
Stern growled, her wings ruffling further, turning to face the second griffon, "What part of 'fuck off' do you not understand, cadet?"
The second griffon straightened up and all to quickly evacuated the area with a hasty "Yes ma'am!"
Stern's gaze softened as it returned to Murky, "No running." she said, setting him down on the ground and letting go of his fragile form. The slave instinct kicked in, overriding Murky's desire to run for his life and beg Wicked Slit to let him into the steel mill. The heavy doors were locked, and given how fearful she'd looked earlier, chances are she was willing to let the griffons have him if it kept the rest of them safe.
Murky stood there in the dirt shivering and quietly sobbing his eyes out over his impending death as Stern undid a few buckles near her neck and back, as her armor clattered to the ground. Sharp pings of armor plates banging together meshed with the thumps of the same plates against the dirt, a cacophony of banging percussion in his sensitive ears. Stern approached, her armor laying in the dirt while he was shown a softer side of all griffons. Beneath the armor was soft downy feathers and fur. The griffoness walked almost directly over Murky as her belly drug across the top of his head, brushing his mane back.
In spite of the looming fear, Murky still took notice of how soft the griffon's belly was. While he'd only ever really thought about being this close to a mare, in some of his more unscrupulous dreams, he was forced to take into consideration that there were indeed lady griffons. This peaceful moment was not to last, however, as a set of talons enclosed around Murky's lanky little neck and forcefully guided his muzzle across Stern's belly with a sensual slowness.
Didn't... Didn't mares only have two of those? Murky wasn't a pervert! He didn't look at mares like that! He just drew them with a fine appreciation for beauty! It didn't make him a pervert to see what he saw! Eight... Stern had eight of them, and his face had been guided across all of them through the griffon's excessively soft fluff. He was going to die anyway, right? It... It couldn't possibly make a difference if he...
Murky's lips parted slightly, a single moment of contact as Stern froze up. Her talon's loosened, almost letting go of his neck. "That's the idea." she says overhead, "Let's see how you do."
In surprise, he backed his head away, the talons tightening and bringing his muzzle back to rest on her teat. "Nope." she chides, not yet losing patience, but from his experience, that kind of tone could get very mean, very quick. Murky's lips parted again, daring at the risk of death to have a drink from Stern's clearly swollen teat.
Griffon milk, or at least from Stern, was sweet and thick, at least thicker than water. Murky wasn't sure how it's taste was in comparison to regular food or whatever free wastelanders ate, given he'd never been free enough to eat anything but scraps. Though stacked against the cheap and watered-down oatmeal slop he was used to, or at least when his meals weren't stolen from him by bigger ponies, it was... It was really good!
Stern was all too generous, letting the little runt of a stallion fill his belly for what was probably the first time in his entire life. The nutrient dense fluids were technically meant for griffon hatchlings, but because they were born with beaks, griffon milk was an inconvenient byproduct that came every year whether or not they mated during heat season, and due to the communal nature of griffons, even in the presence of other griffons' hatchlings they'd begin to swell. For the griffons of Fillydelphia in such a large roost together, it was a near-constant problem that reached a very frustrated crescendo each year during heat season. In the red eyes of Red Eye, the problem was easily quelled by restricting food rations and allowing the griffons to "recruit" slaves to help them with this biological curse. Sure, work would falter temporarily, but the unity between species it helped to garner was more than worth it.
Murky finally disconnected from Stern after nearly a half-hour, the worries of being killed had long-since faded and been replaced with a newfound love for griffons, specifically Stern. Murky Number Seven sat down, then sloped onto his back in the dirt. It may not have been truly comfortable, but the relief from constant pangs of hunger made it tolerable, until he noticed Stern was still staring down at him, her cheeks flushed a mild shade of red. She didn't look like she was about to kill him, which was easily considered a big win for Murky.
The outside world slowly came back to Murky through the milk-soaked stupor. He'd apparently given Stern what she wanted, he needed to get to work! Murky's worries flooded back, the apparition of Wicked Slit in his head not only enraged at him for his tardiness, but disappointed he'd not been killed by the griffon. The door to the steel mill seemed a million miles away, even when it was just a few steps.
A few short steps Murky was unable to take due to something... Gripping his tail.
"Don't think I'm done with you, I've got you for the next seven days at least." she says, her voice reminiscent of Red Eye's devilishly charming tone. Murky laughed nervously, unable and unwilling to pull himself from Stern's talons as she lifted him up again and took off into the sky headed for... Well, Murky didn't know.
Author's Note
😂 Dang
I'm not done with this yet, but I do want to put it out there now.
Fillydelphia passed by far below Stern as she took Murky along for the ride. The dark forms of gray and the washed out colors that remained of paint all seemed to blend together at this altitude to form a wafting blob of depressing colors framed on all sides by the monolithic wall. He'd never been this high up, taking in all of Fillydelphia and the surrounding area at once, all of the wastelands far in the horizons. Even up here, the smog was ever-present. Murky coughed, his lungs rattling in his chest, if Stern didn't kill him and he survived the workload and the relentless bullies down in the Fun Farm, the rapidly developing radiation sickness would certainly kill him.
Why was everything a constant brush against the shoulder of death for Murky? Couldn't he catch a break? His internal monologue was stopped by Stern landing a little roughly, her grip ached at his wings, getting a pained squeak from the stallion. "Don't die on me." Stern says, her tone close to threatening.
With a swift movement, Murky was moved back and deposited on Stern's back, between her wings. Stern had come to a stop on the top of one of the many buildings still standing in the middle of Fillydelphia, the heart of the slave state. Murky looked out over the edge of the building with ever-rising tension, his previous 'home' if it could even be called that, sat far closer to the wall than where he currently was. Stern had drug him impossibly deep into this prison, although inklings of hope yet to appear in his mind and the notion of escape was unthinkable, the difference was still noticeable to him. It was the difference between being chained to the bottom of a pool and being so deep underwater that barely any light made it to you.
The sight left as Stern entered the building through the rooftop access door, sparing Murky the horrifying up-close sight of those horrid Pinkie Pie balloons landing on the rooftop just behind them. The interior of the building was as unpreserved as any other you might find in Fillydelphia, only it hadn't actively been destroyed. Where a pony might find a collapsed wall repurposed as a 'rustic open floor plan' the building had only faded and peeling paper whose glue could no longer hold it to the wall long after the designs had lost their vibrancy.
This building must have been the special housing Red Eye set aside for his Talon mercenaries, or at least most of this floor was purposed for that. There were more than a few griffons on this floor. Some rooms were nice and had a door that was able to be shut, but others had no door at all. This allowed Murky to gaze in and see the makeshift nests and beds the griffons used. There were a few ponies mulling about this floor as well. Some seemed almost happy, or at least not afraid for their lives, others seemed scared. Murky's face reddened when he noted one stallion being lead by a griffon holding... A leash? He'd seen plenty of the same situations down on the ground in Fillydelphia, but this was different. The way they looked at each other with a contained excitement was a far cry from the typical image of a forlorn slave and the slaver's grin of sadistic joy. It was finally hammered home that Murky was not here to die, not unless he did something really dumb.
Murky looked around from his perch on Stern's back as she moved slowly through the ancient corridors illuminated by a number of lanterns placed semi-regularly down the length of the hallways. Stern stopped at a door that had some writing scratched into the wood with a talon or a knife. The door unlocked with a rusty clank and opened with the pained squeak of hinges that had gone far too long without lubrication.
Stern's room had two flags adorning the wall opposite the door, such that anyone who walked in was immediately greeted by the image of Red Eye's army colors and the flag of the Talons. Murky had seen the red flag countless times during his short time in Fillydelphia, but this was the first time he'd seen the flag of the griffon faction. The dark claws seemed to be reaching out the shadows, like a swooping bird of prey noticed only far too late. It made Murky feel a pang of fear, realizing he would soon be back in Stern's grasp, her sharp claws could shear him to pieces effortlessly.
Closer still, Stern's massive bed sat in the hotel room across from a ruined TV set that once would have probably aired pre-war programs but now sat with the rounded screen smashed inward rendering it useless. With an annoyed grunt, Stern sat Murky down on the ground and looked him over again.
"Stay here." she says, pointing a sharply curved talon at Murky as she turns and walks to a small washroom near the entry door. Murky again dared not move, where would he go? Where was there to run to? The dingy carpet beneath his hooves was, for the most part, soft. It was that short and kind of scratchy office carpeting that seemed to become so prevalent just before the war and never seemed to degrade.
Several painfully long and stressful moments passed by as Stern disappeared, rummaging around in the next room over. A few items clattered to the floor and briefly Murky imagined it was... Well, he actually couldn't put a hoof on what she'd be looking for. The towering griffon returned, two bottles clutched in her hand that were carefully set on the scratchy office carpeting in front of Murky.
He couldn't read, but the larger flask was filled with a faintly glowing red liquid, the smaller bottle held a dark orange liquid. The simple pictograms beside the indecipherable text let Murky know one was for healing, the other for radiation poisoning. He stared at them cautiously, wondering why she'd just share with him? Then again, in the past hour, she'd been very generous. He just couldn't shake the constant worry.
Stern stopped, not expecting Murky to just stare at the bottles, "Drink the radaway first, wash it down with the potion because it tastes like trash." she says, turning back and slamming a fist on the countertop, "I left my armor." she groans, walking past Murky again and providing him with more than an eyeful of her soft underside. Stern walked out of the suite briefly, giving Murky a few minutes to chug the two drinks as he went for the orange one first.
Salty, bitter awfulness flooded into his mouth from the dark orange bottle, almost making him gag. The deceiving image of a happy filly on the outside upset him, what insane pony could drink this with a straight face, let alone a smile? He turned to the larger drink of the two, the potion, and pulled the cap from the bottle. It tasted better, somehow accumulating the taste of dust as a background to the vaguely fruity flavoring, and cleared his mouth of the acrid taste of radaway. He felt better for sure, the feeling of his encroaching radiation poisoning being pushed back as well as a relatively new gash from Whiplash on his flank healing. Murky wondered if he'd see them again.
The door to the suite opened with a whine, Stern returned without her armor. Maybe she'd sent somepony to go get it, how would she fly all the way to the steel mill and back in just a few minutes? Murky found himself lifted and moved onto Stern's bed. The cushiony platform was massive, even for a large griffon like herself, with room to lay out. Stern climbed on after Murky, laying on her side to face him.
"Take that off." she says, a talon prodding at Murky's jerkin. The razor-sharp claw hesitating to just slice through it. Murky recoiled, ponies of the wasteland hated pegasi enough, he didn't want to gamble on finding out what griffons thought. He had nothing in common with the ponies on the clouds besides his wings, and even then, that was a stretch.
"I. Uh, I." Murky stammered, unable to find the right way to say no. "Can I keep it on? Please?" he mustered a smile, Stern had been nice so far, maybe she'd let him keep his secret.
"No, it's filthy." she says, her brow furrowing at Murky as her characteristic lack of patience returned. Her hand came out, rolling Murky onto his back and pinning him while she forcefully undid the bindings, his little legs kicked in protest.
"H-hey! Wait, no, don't-" the article of clothing came loose and was pulled from Murky's back. He stood there, only slightly more nude than he was just seconds ago.
Stern saw, how could she not see? Her hardened frustration softened as her eyes fell on Murky's sides. "A pegasus..." she stared at Mury's little wings with growing curiosity, "Those are just adorab- wait, what happened to them?" her expression rapidly changed from curiosity to confusion to a simmering anger, thankfully not directed at Murky.
He knew what happened, he still woke up screaming some nights, "I-I don't remember, I was too young to remember." he lied through his teeth. Stern extended her hand and lifted one of Murky's wings up a bit, her gentle touch not causing noticeable pain to the damaged limb. The underside of Murky's wing erupted in a brand new sensation he'd never actually felt before, he was being touched and it wasn't to hurt him! Stern brushed the non-talon portion of her palm across his wing, Murky's eyes wide in continued shock from the wonderful feeling and how the near constant ache of his destroyed limb wasn't resting on his back like a cart full of scrap metal.
"Still got feeling there, huh?" Stern's tone turned playful, eliciting a gasp of excitement from Murky as she toyed with the soft underside of his wing.
"I-I, uh, that feels-" Murky just knew this wondrous moment was not going to last long, his luck was never this good. But it just kept going, Stern's gentle touch acclimating Murky slowly but surely to a normal understanding of feeling. The electric rushes of fear at being touched gave way to waves of relief. A new sensation that wasn't pain, this had to be too good to be true. Murky kept expecting Whiplash and Wicked Slit to burst through the door and drag him back to the Fun Farm at any second. But that moment never came, not now, not even several hours into the evening.
Murky had hardly realized Stern just spent several hours just... petting him. Until he noticed the sky was getting darker, the glow coming from the city below rather than the smog above. The words sat on his tongue, ready to come out, 'I should get back to the overseer', but he couldn't force them forward. The little voice of a slave in his head silenced almost entirely by... his own voice, maybe? One that told him to stay quiet, maybe out of a selfish desire he didn't want to give up.
The room darkened, the ceiling dimly illuminated a warm red-orange by the city, leaving the floors almost pitch black until Stern activated a single enchanted gem light that glowed in a flickering yellow. She placed it on a nearby table and climbed back into bed, her form causing the old mattress to compress deeply.
Murky found himself gently lifted from the small spot he'd managed to warm up by laying in one place, and set down right next to Stern as she laid down on her side facing away from the window overlooking Fillydelphia. Maybe that was for the best. Despite Fillydelphia's stifling heat during the days and the warm, muggy nights, laying up against Stern's warm plumage was comfortable. Between this, the mattress beneath him, and her arms holding him close, Murky had never felt this... Safe? This was Stern he was in bed with, but if today's events were anything to go by, she wasn't a threat to him.
Murky stopped letting his mind run rampant to scare himself, and closed his eyes to go to sleep.
Author's Note
Footnote:
~~I dunno what I was thinking, this is supposed to just be something to beat your meat to but I think I like MurkyXStern.~~
Sleep last night was peaceful, Murky had been too worn out to properly dream, but not traumatized by the day in a way that gave him nightmares. It was just a few hours of uninterrupted peace.
Morning, at least as close to dawn as Fillydelphia ever got, the glow of the sun filtered red-orange through the clouds and smog, gradually lifting over the edge of the wall and lighting up the tallest buildings first. Murky felt the grogginess that came with sleeping for too long, it was strikingly similar to the feeling of not sleeping enough but without the constant need to go back to sleep.
He stirred slightly, wondering for just a moment if any of the previous day had actually happened. Stern's arm rested around him, blanketed by her wing. His eyes opened partially, realizing he wasn't dreaming. Stern's wing outstretched, quivering as she took a deep breath followed by a yawn as she was awoken by Murky's slight shifting, "Mornin', Murk." Stern grumbles, her voice gravelly after sleep. Murky didn't recoil when she brushed a hand over his mane.
A familiar stirring between Murky's legs came back, he'd ignored what little of it came by yesterday during the petting, but this time it refused to be ignored and Murky didn't realize it was... pressing into Stern until it was far too late to... maybe angle his hips away, or try to squirm back a bit, anything to not make her angry.
Stern gave him a sleepy grin, one he'd learned to recognize was malicious only in the sense she was being playful. "What have we got here?" She says, before Murky could even sputter a panicked apology, he hand wrapped around the girth of it, using the soft palm rather than the sharp talons. At which point, Murky anxiously noted that having talons was really useful but they sure made it difficult to touch something you didn't want to tear to shreds. He was thankful she knew what she was doing.
Murky didn't stop her, he didn't want to, she was the nicest mare. Mare? What was the griffon version of the word mare? Murky's thoughts washed out to a silence as Stern's hand moved, rubbing up and down the length of his mottled cock. With a gasp and a quiet "Whoa." the little pegasus shifted his hips, almost pushing into Stern's hand while she worked what felt like magic.
It didn't last more than a minute. Before Stern could really get working a shockwave of electric pleasure rolled across Murky, his wings seized up along with the rest of his body as he fired several volleys of a warm mess across Stern's feathery plumage. Murky went limp, laying down while the world stayed just out of focus.
Stern wasn't done yet, her hand came back and gently wrapped its digits around Murky's still-pulsing cock. He must've been overly sensitive, because her slightest touch rocked his whole body, each slight movement overloading his nervous system. She let go, leaving him to catch his breath while she cleaned off her chest and neck with a spare rag. "You pop off a little quick. Not an issue, we've got a long time to improve." she says, not looking at him.
Something about her tone made Murky feel like he wouldn't be getting out of here any time soon. Not that he cared too much, his mind still recovering from the hard reset Stern had just given it. Murky rolled in bed, getting closer to Stern who responded by laying an arm over him. "You got another round left in you, Murk?" Stern asks quietly, it had only been a few minutes, right? How long had they just been laying in bed together?
Murky still felt drained, though he was not '18 hours of slave labor' tired, he knew he wasn't going to be ready to do that again any time soon. "I... I don't think so." he answers, not to Stern's anger, but a playful understanding.
"Want to try putting that mouth to use?" Stern asks curiously, her voice free of authoritative tone, testing the waters and seeing what Murky was okay with. "It's only fair." She adds, making known her hopes that Murky would say yes to this relatively vanilla request of hers. It seemed he'd not even been touched by slavers and had gone his entire life without seeing any "action".
Murky was slow to realize what Stern was asking for, probably slower than he should have been given the morning's events. He'd seen slavers do similar things with slaves, but there had never been a slaver interested in him this way thankfully. With his cheeks beginning to flush again, he nodded. Stern adjusted herself on the bed, laying back against the headrest while her hindlegs moved apart.
The artist in Murky took a few moments to appreciate the view, even when his gaze zeroed in between Stern's legs and he realized it was only slightly different from all the mares he'd seen. With his height, he'd seen a lot of mares, for drawing of course! Murky Number Seven is no pervert! The griffon's nethers were more subtle and less pronounced than a mare's and with little to no change in coat color. Proportionally, it was a little smaller over all than on a mare.
Murky, you sly dog, you have been looking at mares like that. Quite a whole lot too.
The runty stallion settled himself down between Stern's thighs, a few anxious breaths drawn as he worried about doing this right. He tried to find a reference from his memories or something to follow but only recalled the time he'd walked in on Wicked Slit sitting on Whiplash's face while calling out Red Eye's name, luckily he'd gotten out of there quickly. If Stern sat on his face, he'd probably die, so that was out of th-
"Are you just gonna stare?" Stern asks, sounding more confused than annoyed, Murky was a few inches away and it seems she'd gotten settled in for the fun. Fun which never came because Murky had caught himself up wondering if he'd survive Stern sitting on his face.
"I've never..." Murky trailed off, "How do I...?" he felt that would ruin the mood, though he had a pretty good idea of what he needed to do. The basis was that muzzle met griffon parts.
Stern spoke up again, "You've seen ponies do it, right?" the griffon points a talon at her own crotch, "It's the same concept, you just use your mouth."
Stern was really being patient with Murky, maybe it was because male griffons had beaks and couldn't do these kinds of things. He leaned in, slowly dragging his tongue across Stern's labia and getting a surprised chirp from above. He stopped and raised his head up to look at her with worry, had he already messed up?
Stern regained her composure, pointing a talon down for him, "Yeah, you figured it out." she sighs peacefully as Murky goes back down, his head shuffling between her thighs.
Murky had barely gotten going, crudely working the griffon's sex with his tongue, much to both of their satisfaction. There was a pounding on the door that made Stern and Murky freeze up, their tender moment quite thoroughly ruined.
As Stern got off the bed to go answer the door, a million bad things flashed through Murky's mind. What if it was the overseer, coming to tell him he was late for his shift. He imagined Whiplash barging into the room to beat him, "You miserable little whelp! Did I say you could skip work?!" though Whiplash had never said these things, Murky could hear it clear as day. Would Stern stop him? Murky's mind flashed with her barring him entrance, maybe shoving him back into the hallway onto his rump and shutting the door.
The door opened, revealing another griffon standing with a calm demeanor, they sported charcoal gray feathers and were giving Stern a bundle of clothes. Her armor from yesterday! Sweet relief rushed through Murky's mind, his general paranoia leaving him be after scaring him a bit. He listened in, feeling a little bad about wanting to eavesdrop, but so curious about the griffons he'd never really gotten to see up close until yesterday. "Red Eye's calling a brunch meeting. Says he wants to meet the newest residents in the roost."
Murky thought for a minute, newest residents? Was Stern planning on keeping him here? Well, that would be preferable to the Fun Farm. Red Eye's here? What's brunch? The door shut and Stern set the bundle of armor on a nearby table while she got dressed. She stared at Murky for a brief second, then turned away from him as she bent down to angle her wings through their hole in the barding. Murky's thoughts went back to imagining Stern sitting on his face and how he'd foolishly brushed it off as an impossibility. He needed to find a way to make that work. With a knowing grin, Stern's tail swept to the side, hiding nothing from his prying eyes before the armor covered her up.
Murky realized he really, really liked griffons now.
Author's Note
Footnote:
Revelations and Gyrations
Once her armor was back on, Stern's demeanor became stony again. The big griffon still smiled a bit at Murky, but not as warmly as she had earlier. A few questions sat on his mind as he cautiously dropped off the bed and began to look for his jerkin. It was here somewhere, he'd seen it get tossed aside last night. It was in a little bundle on the floor, having fallen from the far edge of the bed, and while Murky began to dress himself Stern spoke up.
"We're going to breakfast, Red Eye will be there and he'll want to meet you." she says plainly, despite the fact it almost made the stallion lock up and fall down. THE Red Eye was going to be there? Murky's worrisome mind couldn't even think of a way to make this situation more terrifying than it already was.
"Wait, Stern?" Murky began to trip over his own words again, "Wh-why's he- Why's he gonna be there... With us? Me?" in his fretting, his worries weren't perfectly voiced. But Stern seemed to understand what he meant.
"He does this every year - wants to meet the ponies. This is my first time joining in and he wants to meet you. Don't worry, Murky." Stern says, straightening out her mane of feathers in the reflection of her large knife, "He's easier to deal with when he's not giving speeches."
The dining hall was on one of the lower floors of the building, a few nervous questions had shown Murky that the tower's lower ten floors were all sealed from the ground and inaccessible. The only access was on the rooftop. While this made the building feel a little safer, this also brought about the unvoiced realization to Murky that unless he could fly, he was trapped here. Like all things in Fillydelphia; if it seemed good it was actually bad, and if it seemed bad it was actually nightmarish. The halls of the tower were bustling with the various pony and griffon residents who all seemed to be heading to the dining hall for this meeting.
The hall itself had old red curtains hanging against bare walls, framing the slowly decaying construction while adding a warm softness to the room's appearance. Murky sat across from Stern at one of the many long tables that had been set up in rows perpendicular to the wall that held a stage. Most likely so that nopony at a table had to crane their necks too much to view the stage.
The sweet and savory smells of unknown yet enticing foods wafted around the large room, coming from a kitchen on the far end of the hall and making pangs of hunger come back to Murky's belly. All he'd eaten lately was... Well, he'd had a lot of milk. But the calcium was probably good for his bones. The room became almost intolerably loud in his ears as the room filled with griffons, ponies, and their conversations, turning to a single massive blaring sound through which no single voice could be deciphered.
Stern returned to the table with a plate for herself and a bowl she set in front of Murky. It was oatmeal, but a lot better than what they had on the Fun Farm. It wasn't watered down and seemed to be comprised of... Milk and oats. Murky looked around, there was a lot of dairy products included in breakfast here. Stern was eating some unidentified meat with a dark sauce.
The room very quickly drew to a silence, heads turning to face the stage. Murky looked up, there he stood in the center waiting for the quiet with a pleased smile plastered on his face. Not with him were the heretical mutant alicorns he always seemed to be flanked by.
At once, the silence of the room punctuated only by the clink of plates, was replaced by a charismatic voice greeting them.
"Good morning to you all, and a special welcome to our new residents at the roost. If this hasn't been explained to you, I hope my own words will bring peace to any fears you may be dealing with having been so suddenly abducted in some cases." Red Eye's voice was clearer now than over the loudspeakers in Fillydelphia, allowing the finer tones of his voice to be heard, the slight rasp in his voice, the occasional crack when he reached a high point. He wasn't just some disembodied voice in the speaker that somehow ruled over Murky's very existence, he was a pony like any other. Only a pony who somehow had massive control over everything in Fillydelphia. Not any less disheartening.
"I know many of you have heard this speech before, but it's necessary for the rebuilding of not only Equestria, but the entire world." He continued, his voice not as silky as it appeared through the speakers, "Historically, ponies and griffons have been allies, even before the war that saw Equestria's destruction. What better way to breed unity than this? To demonstrate that companionship can still exist, that despite the sins of our ancestors, creatures of all walks of life can come together." Red Eye's voice held on the word 'breed', he seemed to be making discreet jokes far too dirty for an innocent pony like Murky to get, but there were muffled laughs during his speech. Maybe Red Eye knew he was giving a speech to give some context for some kind of poorly-written story.
Red Eye's talking went on for longer than the author was able to reliably imitate but just long enough that Murky was able to figure that all of this was to help maintain relations between ponies and griffons, maybe transfer into future peace in Red Eye's utopia, or maybe he just liked seeing interspecies stuff. Murky knew for a fact that a pony could have a 'thing' for griffons, it happened to him.
The intimidating red stallion sitting next to Murky at the table enjoyed a similar breakfast. Murky was sitting to his right, granting him an up-close and unobstructed view of the mechanical device he had in lieu of an eye. He stole passing glances at it while they ate, noting the painful looking borders where metal met flesh. Stern didn't speak much during their conversation, her responses kept short while he prodded her with simple questions until he gave her one that required more than a few words.
"You've always sat this holiday out, Stern. I was beginning to think you were celibate." a sly grin crosses Red Eye as Stern looks to the side in silence.
"I supposed you were just waiting for 'your type' to show up?" he continues to probe Stern, making wild assumptions without really saying them directly. He brings a hoof to his chin in a display of faux pondering, "But the question remains, what about Murky makes him 'your type'?" Their conversation went on as if Murky weren't sitting right there next to them. Maybe Red Eye was just good at giving all of his attention to somepony, or griffon. Somegriffon? What if they said somebirdy? No, that sounded dumb.
There was some unspoken communication going on here, was Red Eye just teasing a colleague he'd known for a long time?
"The wings? The height? That shy disposition? What about the cutiemark?" Red Eye's teasing focused on Murky next, "What does it represent?" he asked, turning at the table to face him.
Murky had never thought about, or tried to make much thought about the shackles that adorned his flanks. They'd always been a painful symbol of his fate to forever be a slav-
"Are you some kind of escape artist? A special talent in getting yourself out of all kinds of predicaments? I bet you keep Stern on her toes. Or perhaps you're one of those ponies who knows how to have fun with chains." Red Eye rambled on about Murky's cutiemark having some more adult connotations, asking if he was good at tying up others, or if he was the one who was chained.
Murky had never considered the shackles meaning anything beyond what he'd first mentioned, Red Eye's revelations opened his eyes in a weird way. What exactly were those shackles supposed to represent? Maybe Red Eye was right about the escape artist thing? Murky remembered a few times he'd snuck off from work or talked his way out of a good beating. Maybe... Maybe Red Eye was right about... Murky imagined himself in chains again, but this time he was back on the bed with Stern and she was holding the whip again, his eyes went wide with an uncontrollable stirring in his chest suddenly rushing to a stirring between his legs. How could whips and chains be fun?! Murky pushed those thoughts away and now had no answer for the very salacious pony he knew as Red Eye.
"I-I, uhm..." he tried to think of something before Stern spoke up.
"I just think he's cute. Leave the poor guy alone, he looks like he's about to die of embarrassment."
Red Eye chuckled quietly, patting Murky on the head, "I was just excited to meet the pony who got Stern out of her shell. Feel free to take the rest of the week off, Stern. The holiday has brought production to a halt for now." Red Eye says, finishing off his oatmeal and departing from the table to leave Stern and Murky alone together.
Stern was left somewhat embarrassed, visible through her stoic attitude in the way her face was visibly red even through her feathers. Murky unfortunately, couldn't push away the new ideas Red Eye had given him. Whips and chains, who would dare to try and make those sound fun? That was almost as bad as heresy! Stern didn't speak for a painful few minutes while she finished her breakfast, Murky was more focused on pushing away lewd thoughts.
The dining hall slowly cleared out, one or two greeted Stern as they left, passing by with a friendly "Mornin', captain." Once there didn't seem to be so many in the hall, and the cacophonous hum of hundreds of voices wound down to a quieter buzz from which Murky could hear individual voices. Stern got Murky's attention by tapping a talon on the table near his hooves, "You want to go back to our room and pick up where we left off?" she says, "We've got a lot of time together this week." she said in a tone that would have sounded menacing if Murky didn't know exactly what he was in for. Wait, 'our room'? That kind of implied he owned it as well. It brought some confusing implications for Murky about how Stern viewed him. He didn't dislike it, she was a ton of fun when the armor came off, and she was really soft to hug. Murky's innocent thoughts kept dancing around how she'd so expertly machinegun jackhammered his cock and didn't even scrape it while she used a fistful of razor sharp talons. That was an unspoken plus he was too pure to mention.
Murky didn't answer verbally, a quick and minute nod of his head was enough to let Stern know he was indeed in favor of that offer. Stern got herself up from the table, stretching with a flutter of her big wings, her head motioned towards a door, "Come on then." she says.
Murky's little legs broke into a trot to keep up with Stern's long legged stride as he chased her through the halls back to their room. It was an exciting feeling, and a nice view from behind the griffon. He hadn't taken too much time to really look at Stern, especially from here, but the concept was pretty similar to some of the mares he'd seen around Fillydelphia. Only Stern was more well-fed, and scaled up a bit more. She filled out that armor all too well, black fabric hugging her and creating shapes and curves that would most definitely appear in his drawi- Murky realized his sketchbook was back at the Fun Farm! Oh Luna, what if somepony had found it?! They'd come to wrong conclusions about whoever was the artist. He had to get that sketchbook back!
Murky looked up at Stern, his eyes trailing up the back of her hindlegs to her rump, then her tail to that little paintbrush-like tuft of fur at the end of it. He'd have to ask her about helping him get it back later. Definitely later. Stern's tail swept across his face multiple times, irritating his nose, it felt like she was doing that on purpose.
The bed, the only thing that came to mind when thinking of what could be softer than the bed was Stern's underside. There wasn't a wait, he was lifted up and set on Stern's bed while she got back out of her armor, hastily tossing it aside near Murky's jerkin as the armor plates came off with the vest first, then the sleek black catsuit she wore under it all. Stern looked back a few times as she removed her clothes, casting a knowing grin when she saw Murky watching. Ponies, and griffons too, were normally naked meaning it shouldn't have seemed as enticing as it did seeing her disrobe.
Stern climbed up onto the mattress, her larger frame indenting the bed more than Murky's, and laid on her side facing him. "Roll over for me, on your back." she says, a gentle authority in her voice that seemed to knock Murky onto his back. His wings hadn't hurt so much lately, he was able to roll over without much soreness. A large shadow eclipsed the pegasus, Stern was going to be on top...
A mixture of excitement and anxiety hit Murky as the griffon positioned herself over his readily available pegasus dick. He'd hadn't even realized his body was ready far before his mind. He looked down the length of his belly to see Stern was lining the two of them up. With a controlled descent, Murky's mottled cock slipped into a hot, velvety soft pocket between Stern's thighs at an agonizingly slow rate. Only a portion of her weight bore down on his hips, but it was enough to gently squish Murky into the mattress. Stern's eyes shut as she exhaled a shaky breath. "Just lay back and enjoy the ride, Murk." Stern huffed, beginning to pump the little pony for all he was worth. In Stern's defense, she'd tried to ease him into it, but there are things that just can't wait.
A hand planted itself on the bed past Murky's head for stability as Stern slipped up and down, countless cycles of forcing her tight griffon pussy to fit over his flare drove her nerves crazy. Murky finally started to get into his role, a hoof raising up and settling behind his head while he relaxed and let Stern do the work for him. Several minutes of squeaking mattress, Murky felt it coming close, just like this morning, chills running down his back. Stern's hand planted on his chest a little rougher than he'd have liked.
"Hold- Hold it, not yet." Stern panted, "Me first." she says, beginning to reach a twitching climax. If she'd really let herself go, she would have probably been too rough with Murky. Rolling waves of spasms and gripping tightness squeezed Murky, and to speak for his rapid attainment of bedside skills, he'd actually held off from flaring until Stern's climax finally set him off like a broken water main, pumping the griffon full of pegasus seed.
Stern climbed off of Murky, leaving him in the little pony-shaped indentation he'd formed under her in the mattress, and laid on her back next to him panting heavily. Murky stared at the ceiling, this was... By Celestia's flowing mane, he felt great. Neither of them had the energy to move for a few minutes, Stern being the first to pull on Murky, dragging him closer to cuddle.
He could feel Stern's heartbeat between the rising and falling of her chest. He had slept against her side the previous night but now Stern was burying him in her plumage, the soft feathers tickling his ears. They laid together for about an hour, Stern's beak occasionally angling downward to play with his mane or rub against his ears. He was probably the only living thing to ever see this side of the Talon. It wasn't even noon and somehow Stern had worked him harder in a half hour than any of the slavers could in an entire day. It brought a tired smile to Murky's face.
Thoughts of his sketchbook came crawling back, he really needed to ask Stern about it. Later, he'd ask later. This was too comfortable to interrupt, until Stern rolled Murky to face her and began shuffling the stallion lower until his muzzle was against her soft underbelly. Murky opened his mouth and topped off his stomach with griffon milk while getting a relieved sigh from Stern. Yeah, too comfortable to interrupt.
Author's Note
Alright, I think I've got a handle on how I get from here to the intended ending. Sorry if this thing has gone on for too long.
Level Up!
New Perk Added:
Another short, post-sex nap punctuated Murky's day. He'd woken up before Stern, who remained sleeping heavily on the bed next to him, illuminated by the dim light from above indicating that it was barely afternoon. All of this was a confusing and sudden change in his life, to suddenly be taking naps and having brunch, not to mention Stern. Murky still felt he'd realize this was all a dream at some point, a dream that felt entirely real and had tricked him for this long.
With a little bit of effort, Murky rose to his hooves and felt a damp, slimy coldness across his thighs, he needed to clean up. Stern's suite was quiet, but a few noises could be heard through the walls, just barely audible to his sensitive ears. A couple were having some kind of dialogue-heavy fun the next room over. One of them was a steel ranger paladin who'd captured a very naughty talon mercenary apparently.
With a reddened face, Murky pulled his ear away from the wall, eavesdropping on something like that was certainly not what he'd do! It just felt weird to not have anything to do, most days were loaded with intense labor. Murky just felt caught up in the routine he'd grown accustomed to, he needed something to do, he didn't want to just lay around all day. Murky didn't want to look out of the window and be reminded of Fillydelphia, this room was filled with too many strange and sweet memories already, he didn't want the two locations to be linked in his mind.
That persistent thought came back again, his sketchbook and how he needed to get it back. He'd been too preoccupied with Whiplash to remember to tuck it into his jerkin the morning Stern grabbed him. It may have just been a sketchbook but it was one of the two things Murky could call his own in this world. Maybe Stern too, if he wasn't being so presumptuous as to call her his own. Oh Murky you've got a way with words!
He stood unsure of what to do now, was he allowed to leave the suite without Stern? He climbed back up onto the bed and walked across the soft surface towards Stern's face.
"Uh, S-Stern?" he asked, his voice just north of a whisper to no response, "Stern?" Murky brings his muzzle in closer, nudging against Stern's cheek. The disturbance makes the griffon smile a bit as she wakes up, "Morning, love." she yawns. Murky thought to himself about how it hadn't been morning for several hour- wait, love?! The pegasus' brain went haywire. There's no way he was that important to anypony, griffon, whatever. Murky's train of thought was lost again.
"M-my sketchbook." he finally forced out, confusing Stern.
"Huh?"
"I-I... My sketchbook. I left it back at the Fun Farm." it felt unreasonably difficult to say it, would this single request upset her?
Stern sat up in bed, reaching for a metal bottle and drinking from it, "Oh, so you're an artist, huh?" her tone softened again, "Think you could draw me if we go get it?" she half-jokes.
Murky hadn't been expecting her to proposition him like this, but it still made his little heart flutter. With a nod, Murky spoke up, "Of course I can."
One short flight to the Fun Farm later, Stern sat Murky down just outside and spoke, "I can't go into the slave enclosures, Red Eye's rules. We're supposed to leave them alone. You can run in and grab it on your own, right?"
Murky's blood ran cold, paranoia creeping back in. He'd accidentally take too long and Stern wouldn't be here when he got back, o-or Whiplash wouldn't let him leave. Overwhelming fear washed over Murky as his knees shook.
"I'll be here when you come back, I promise." she says, a hand gently running down his back. It wasn't enough to completely get rid of his fears, but it made them less paralyzing.
Murky had only ran this fast a few times in his life. Sprinting across the yard and past Whiplash's quarters, past the barn, he came to a skidding halt and squeezed his tiny frame into the small door leading into the pigsty. Scattered hay coated the floor, briefly bringing Murky back to the first days of being in Fillydelphia as he scrambled to get his sketchbook.
With every second that passed, the worry of Stern being gone only grew in his mind, driving him to an increasingly frantic search for it. "Where is it?!" he squealed, sifting through the hay until he came across the book hidden under some hay. Murky grabbed the sketchbook in his mouth, not bothering to stuff it into his jerkin and ran back out, skidding past the sleeping pile of ponies who used to harass him constantly, they'd barely noticed he'd ran by until he was long gone.
Murky rounded the corner, feeling his heart rate drop and his legs weaken from the end of the adrenaline. Stern was still there, leaning against the gate and making the pony guards there nervous. She waved a hand calmly as Murky slowed to a trot and approached. She really kept her promise, why wouldn't she?
If Stern noticed his receding panic attack, she didn't show it. Or maybe she was just trying to be accommodating to him? Murky's thoughts were interrupted by Stern speaking, "You want a drink?".
"Yes please..." Between the stress earlier and Stern riding him in the most fun way, he was most definitely dehydrated. Stern passed him the metal bottle from earlier, it was filled with cold water which Murky drank from all too eagerly.
Looking up from the bottle, Murky saw Stern laying across the bed, giving him that soft look, "A deal's a deal, right? I even got these out for you." Stern says slyly.
Socks, it took Murky a moment to realize it, but Stern had slipped her hindlegs into a pair of pale purple socks that contrasted against her dark fur. How could a single article of clothing make things so saucy?! Murky's eyes fixated on the way they hugged her legs from her paws up to her thighs, quickly noticing that area at the border of the socks where it squeezed into her thighs and showed of soft they could be. Murky felt a little short of breath.
Stern's playful grin came back as she propped her chin against a hand, "Don't tell me you've never seen socks before." she teased, a hindleg curling forward to become more visible.
"W-well..." Murky hadn't actually seen them before, but admitting that seemed to be a bad option. Lying to Stern was an even worse option.
Taking his lack of response as an admission, Stern laid across the bed, striking a pose for the little artist.
Murky opened his sketchbook, subconsciously skipping past the first half of the pages, old drawings he didn't want to look at. He stared between Stern and the blank page, had he ever drawn something he saw? Mostly he just drew scenes that were on his mind, it was never his choice as to what was transcribed onto the page, right?
He stared at the blank page nervously, then looked to Stern in that sultry pose. Charcoal touched paper, lines became curves, curves became shapes, shapes took form and came to life. It was an immense mental effort to not just let his mind take over and put whatever was on his mind onto the page, but he did it.
An impressive revelation for Murky, looking over the drawing of his- did marefriend work? She wasn't a mare, a griffon mare? Were they even involved like that?
The drawing was not of how Murky felt, but what he'd seen filtered through how he felt. On the bed Stern lay, her eyelashes a little fuller, all but the worst of her battle scars given barely a touch of the charcoal. Her big wings folded back, not a feather out of place, the walls behind and the bed upon which she lay spotless. Of course, the drawing wasn't how things looked exactly, and while Murky forced himself to draw what he was looking at, his feelings bled through every time he touched charcoal to paper. Is this how he felt about Stern?
There was a brief pause as Murky stopped drawing to examine his own drawing, an inkling of youthful excitement growing across Stern's face. She wanted to see, but only if he was done. She could see a confused and distressed look across his face, but couldn't discern why exactly.
"Is everything alright, Murk?" Stern asks, breaking her pose to move closer. Murky tried to close his sketchbook but Stern slipped a talon into the pages to hold the place. "Come on, I want to see." Stern says.
"I-It's not ready yet!"
"Then why'd you close the book?" Stern's teasing tone and playful smile did little to ease Murky's worries.
Murky stammered, trying to think of some reason to get a few more minutes to draw, he could only see this ending badly. Maybe that line of thinking was just a product of his upbringing?
Slowly and gently, Stern eased the sketchbook out of Murky's hooves as he let go of it. The griffon flipped to the page and examined the drawing.
Stern laughed, but it didn't feel like she was laughing at his drawing given the way she clearly admired it. "I wish I looked this good." she says, passing the sketchbook back to Murky, "I love it."
Stern eased closer, her beak nudging into Murky's muzzle. He realized griffons didn't have lips and probably didn't kiss. Was this their equivalent to a kiss? Murky jumped at the chance and pushed his muzzle against hers. When they both parted, Murky was a bit out of breath, flustered from the sudden intimacy he'd participated in.
Stern's arms outstretched and grabbed hold of Murky, pulling him closer to her on the bed. She gave him that same sultry look from earlier this morning. Despite his exhaustion, Murky found energy again and got himself against Stern excitedly. The big griffon rolled onto her back and leaned up against the pillows and the wall, her hindlegs lazily spread apart. Murky already felt himself to be a five-legged stallion by the time he got mounted.
Stern's hand rested on her belly, cupping an enlarged teat while the other reached down and helped Murky's cock line up with her honeypot. He made Stern squeal with excitement as he stuffed himself into her while helping himself to her teats. Murky's small size lined up perfectly with Stern's larger frame, while he was balls deep in her velvety griffon pocket, he could also reach her nipples. Stern's fistfuls of talons latched onto the bed as Murky fucked and sucked, tweaking her nipples with his tongue and stuffing her turkey like there was no tomorrow.
Between some incoherent mumbles, Stern shouted "Yes!" a few times, definitely loudly enough to be heard through the walls. Her quivering hands seemed unsure of what to do as the pegasus rocked her box, they'd migrate from her thighs to the bed threatening to tear the sheets as she grasped them tightly. She was soaking, Murky glided his cock in and out with some ease, though it felt like she had a grip on his shaft, the friction feeling too good to allow Murky to pull out. Was this the power of griffon pussy?
A clenching tightness shudders across Murky's cock as Stern seizes up, her talons digging into the bed while her hind-paws flexed wildly. Murky slowed down a bit, was she done already?
"No, keep-" Stern huffs, "Keep going, Murky." the griffon shudders, Murky's slightest movements making her whole body jump. The pegasus was all too happy to oblige, going back to pounding her entrance while Stern writhed beneath him on the bed. "Inside! Do it inside!" the griffon squeals, her back arching."
Maybe it was the slave in him, but Murky tensed up, cumming right then and there. His flare jammed right up against her 'stable door' and flooded her with his seed. Murky held still for a few seconds, too sensitive to move, panting heavily. His staff slipped out of the griffon's hole with a wet 'plap', prompting a flow of excess fluids to leak out. Murky laid down on Stern's rising stomach, her fur was still the softest thing he'd ever felt. Stern was limp on her back, wings outstretched. Her body shuddered again when Murky went for her teat, a hand resting in Murky's mane and brushing through it as he enjoyed Stern's milk.
"I love you, Murk." Stern sighed through the stilted fall of her chest.
"I-I love you too." Murky replies, speaking what he felt rather than just replying with what was expected.
Murky spent the rest of his days in Fillydelphia with Stern, not because she wanted him to stay, but because he wanted to stay with her. Red Eye's plans for world domination succeeded in the following months, and many Enclave officers fell into the waiting arms of Talon girls. There was pony on griffon action happening everywhere and in the words of Red Eye, "It was absolutely bangin'."
Author's Note
I really hoped you guys enjoyed this.
