I'm...I'm a gryphon!
Good day! Nulkurrak here with a new story for you ^^
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I owed my brother
The story is written by me,
Description: Absolutely certain that his transformation into a dragon went as it should, a former dragon rider called Aldren undergoes a shocking realization when he finds out that he will soar at the side of his beloved dragon not as the species of his soulmate, but as a gryphon.
***I'm...I'm a gryphon!***
It had seemed fitting for Aldren to begin his life as a dragon in the cave Malarran had often used as a retreat from the rigors of human society. It had high enough elevation that only a dragon could access it, comfortable furs to rest on, and an array of amenities necessary to keep his mind preoccupied in case his new body took a few days to function as it should.
When he first cracked an eye open, the moonlight shafts lapping at the cavern's exit greeted him first. From what Malarran had told him, he had expected them to be far more prominent to his draconic eyes, and not slightly more prominent than the last moments of faltering sunlight.
Strange. But not stranger than Ylvarron's conspicuous absence. The Mana Shaper had promised to be there when Aldren made eyes; that he would check his fangs, prod at every scale in search of flaws, and rub his frills and paws to make sure they had proper sensitivity. Of all the benefits a dragon body offered, Aldren looked forward to his scaly paws the most. No more cuts while playing in the river. No more blisters from marching for days on end, or soggy feet when it rained so long that his boots stood no hope to dry.
And most importantly, Malarran would finally stop boasting about the superiority of his bare feet compared to the stiff, rigid footwear that he bore a lasting grudge for.
"Ylvarron," Aldren called, unaware whether he spoke the words out loud or if he only did that in his mind. Splayed on his side, with a wing sprawled over the ground and another over his body, Aldren's frame felt both foreign and familiar to him. He could move his limbs. All of them, but only slightly. The toes on his hind paws clenched very similar to his human ones despite their elongated length, while his fingers retained most of their flexibility aside from the thumb, which felt wrong. Aldren blamed it on having four fingers instead of five and focused more on willing his wings to twitch and flutter slightly in order to get used to their existence.
That was easy. Far easier than he expected. The spell had not only altered his body, but it elevated his mind to the point where the transition to a quadruped body felt like nothing more than a slight inconvenience. His tail did not even feel like an extra appendage. Instead, it seemed like an integral part of him that he instinctively knew how to swish and flick its tip.
He didn't need Ylvarron. Better that he left and spared him of his incessant bragging and blatant manipulation tactics to get more money out of him for a job well done. Malarran would fulfill the same role, if not better, and instead of a brisk, awkward, and matter-of-fact check, the dragon would take his time to cherish every inch of his onyx body and lighter colored frills and wings.
To lessen the oppressive numbness that pressed on his mind and kept him trapped in a state between dream and reality, Aldren motivated himself with thoughts of their future goals. He envisioned two dragons, dark and menacing like storm clouds, maneuver around the battlefield with uncanny coordination, employing all the tactics and strategies that Aldren had to rely on friends and allies for. No more was he going to be a mere passenger on Malarran's back. No longer would he sit idle while his dragon roared and fought and bled. And at night...at night, he would finally bestow the same pleasures upon Malarran that the dragon had selflessly offered without any expectation from his small and insulting body.
That last thought of finally being able to accommodate Malarran into his maw or under the tail cut through the thick haze of post-transformation numbness, spurring Aldren to recover his footing and make his way to his beloved dragon who waited in their favorite clearing for him. It took the better part of an hour to convince him to stay there, for the last thing Aldren wanted was for Malarran to see him weak, vulnerable or worst, in a deformed, unrecognizable state.
"Crrawk," Aldren motivated himself to roll onto his belly, paying no mind to the almost bird-like sound of his whine. His goal staring right at him, the onyx dragon tried to push himself up onto his feet, only to squawk and crumple back onto a white bear fur when he somehow stepped o his thumb.
"Craaak," his annoyance flared at this most ridiculous mistake. How could somebody step on their thumb? That made no sense!
Until Aldren extended a yellow-scuted forepaw to stare at. It wasn't the wrong color that stood out to him first, but the position of his thumb, which was at the far end of his foot, like a bird's, instead of sitting at the side of his paw. In fact, his entire foot looked wrong, with curved black talons instead of elegant, silvery claws.
"So I'm a golden dragon. Big deal," Aldren said to himself, curling his head back to scratch away the itch hovering on the tip of his ear.
Only, he shouldn't have had ears, and the hind paw that froze mid-air had a feline-like appearance and soft, pink, bean-shaped, meaty pads.
"No," Aldren muttered, his muzzle clacking in panic. "No, no, no, this is not...this is not real."
And yet, it was. His voice remained his, but it had a distinct, avian hue to it. He had wings, but they flaunted auburn feathers adorned with dark brown stripes on their dorsal side, similar to an owl, while the ventral colors were white with similarly colored stripes and dark brown ends. His hindquarters resembled those of a lion, colored a pleasant tawny shade, and his slim tail ended with a dark brown tuft of fur of the same shade present on his wings.
He wasn't a dragon. Dragon did not have feathers, fur, ears, talons, and half of a feline body. He was a gryphon!
The realization of being stuck in this soft, scale-less, vulnerable body for months on end instantly shocked Aldren to full awareness. Every trace of numbness vanished from his body, replaced by desperate urgency to find the one who had inflicted this curse upon him and make him correct this mistake through any means necessary.
Ironically, everything worked far better than it had the right to, now that the entirety of Aldren's focus dwelled on something else other than his body. He strode from one corner of the lair to the other with barely any issue, the pitter patter of his claws and the softer sounds of pads upon the bare portions of stone mere background noise. He checked behind every chest, craned his neck to the sides of a bookcase in case he hid there for whatever reason, and even checked inside barrels that Malarran had filled with favorite toys, blankets, and other nonsense.
Still no sign of the Mana Shaper.
Aldren closed his eyes and breathed in the humid, slightly musty air of his dwelling in a futile attempt to catch his scent. For better or worse, his gryphon nares had the same acuity as his human nose, so his last resort was to somehow glide down the cliff, learn to fly and land in the very first day of his supposed dragon transformation.
No. That was not going to happen. Not with those flimsy, feathery wings that he barely trusted to get him down on the ground, let alone navigate treacherous currents.
Left with no alternative, Aldren returned to his biggest, softest, and most comfortable of furs, ready to flop down on it and sleep away the entirety of this nonsense.
Just as he lowered himself down, he spotted a splotch of brown half-hidden beneath the white bear pelt. His talons, however inconvenient, fished the coin pouch with convenient ease, and when he lifted it to his head to study it from every angle, he noticed that amidst the few coins resting on its bottom was a memory crystal.
"Scraaak," Aldren emulated his best version of a growl, upending the pouch to reveal its scarce, insulting contents. They already shared their story with him, one of an impotent Mana Shaper who had performed the safer, cheaper, and far more useless transformation than the sophisticated and elegant one Aldren hired him for. Malarran's words came back to haunt him, warning him to be wary of the cheap and the withdrawn, but Mana Shapers were a rare and reputable sort, so back then, he had dismissed it for one of Malarran's usual bouts of negativity.
Far more bothered by his dragon's premature chiding that kept circling his thoughts like a flock of ravens hungry for his sanity, Aldren spoke the words to activate the memory crystal and, sure enough, the recorded apparition of Ylvarron broke free from its slightly shimmering prison.
"I uh--infinite apologies to you, my lord," the frail, slightly crooked Mana Shaper spoke, joining his hands and bowing forward as much as his back allowed in supplication. "I have eh...rigorously prepared for your request. Its particularities have not fallen on deaf ears, but ah...as you well know, our noble king, in his wisdom, has severed the alliance with the Kholvnari. Naturally, that has put a halt on the supply of many a reagents that go into such elaborate ritual, leading to the less than adequate situation in which we all find ourselves in. If you..." he paused to fumble for a satchel dangling at his hip to take out a big and imposing tome in his shaky hands.
"If you look over here at this twenty-three page, it will come to your understanding that such transformation would have been improper to perform for a number of reasons. All explained here, of course, ranging from uh..." he paused to lean forward and squint at the writing, "missing limbs to improper coloring and uh...reversed genders, to list a few from an infinite number of drawbacks your lordship ought never subject himself to. But gryphons, however..."
Ylvarron motioned for him to follow over to a musty table, which Aldren did despite this being solely a capture of the words, gestures and motions Ylvarron had stored in the crystal.
"Gryphons are far less sophisticated. Since they generate no mana, many of the intricacies for elevating a locked being to an open one are removed, and therefore, the process is quicker, more efficient, and far less taxing on the mind. Here, you can see," his weak, bony finger traced a few lines across a few pages before he snapped the tome shut faster than Aldren could see or understand what he meant.
"Given your need and position, I have therefore concluded that, for your lordship to fight along your dragon, it is best that I grant you the a set of wings best suited to the task, and I pray that the refund is of a satisfying quantity so as to account for the rigors of Mana Shaping."
Shortly before Ylvarron's likeness vanished, Aldren noticed how he straightened his back far more than he should have been able to after getting up from the table. His walk lacked the distinct shuffle he clearly employed earlier, and his eyes grew far sharper and clearer, as if the whims of time immediately fled them.
Unable to review the stored memory, Aldren leaned back on his haunches, his beak clattering with equal parts doubt, anger, and sorrow at the painful finality of his form. What good did the refund do, when he would most likely trip on his way to the coins? And why should he concern himself with the hints of the most foul act Ylvarron employed when the Mana Shaper could have been anywhere in the world thanks to his rare and respected abilities? He had spent everything for this one chance to soar alongside Malarran, all to be turned into an elegant chicken.
"I am not alone in this," Aldren reminded himself a truth that too easily slunk to the corners of his mind. "Malarran...he will make it right. He has to."
His dragon, the most devoted and selfless creature who had ever lived, would chase down that pauper in whichever gutter he hid to bring him back and rectify this error. All that Aldren had to do was glide to the base of the cliff, walk to his clearing, and then wait a day at most for the solution to his predicament to arrive. Nobody would see him in this lesser form but Malarran, and he would brush this off as an amusing and creative episode in his life.
Yet, when he reached the mouth of the cavern and the night's breeze ruffled his feathers, Aldren's conviction immediately faltered when presented with the threat of an imminent, ridiculous, and most shameful death.
"Wouldn't...awk...that be something, rawk!" he burst in a fit of cacophonous caws, trudging back a few steps to roll on the ground while caught in the throes of desperate hilarity. Too bad this cave stood so secluded from the attention of other fliers. Otherwise, everyone in the region would have heard the pitiful story of the only adult gryphon who crashed to his death.
The blissful ignorance of his situation soon gave way to more pressing concerns, each more sobering than the last. Aldren did not want Malarran to come to him. He did not want his dragon to find a pathetic human too weak to accept this new development. All his life, Aldren had done his utmost to hide his vulnerabilities from Malarran, and to reveal them slowly, elaborately, when the time was right. His best chance to cope with this situation was to control it from the beginning, and for that, he needed to get out of here one way or another.
Without waiting for his cowardice to catch up and cripple him a second time, Aldren urged his body into a short dash that ended with the best leap he could muster. When they detected empty air beneath his feet, his wings unfurled out of their own accord, and his tail wove back and forth to guide him upon the currents almost on its own accord.
This...this was surprisingly pleasant. Most of him still felt a prisoner in his body, where Aldren the human succumbed to the whims of the gryphon who had its own intentions and purposes. Aldren the gryphon wanted to flap his wings; to veer left and disappear into the countryside, where the livestock of farmers could sustain him until he learned to hunt. Negotiating with the militia or getting arrested and taken to a military eyrie to make up for his wrongdoings through valor in combat seemed a better alternative than disappointing Malarran so thoroughly.
"No," his human side refused to give in. "I will not abandon him. Not like this, not ever."
Afraid that his resolve might not last, Aldren landed into the nearest accessible surface, his smaller body and feathered wings permitting him to slink through narrow spaces dragons could never dream of finding a way through. His hind paws landed first, the cold, dewy grass as bothersome to his pads as it was to his bare feet.
"At least I can soar over rivers," Aldren latched onto his only solace as he made his way through the less dense parts of the forest, intimately aware of where to go in order to find Malarran.
Unsurprisingly, he found the dragon curled around himself, snoring in audible bliss while his only friend filtered through his numerous ways of rousing that ignorant buffoon to the bitter reality of their situation. In the end, Aldren settled for pecking his frills, yet just as he began to tiptoe towards his target, the dragon shifted into a more comfortable position, so that he faced the gryphon who invaded his private space. With the wind blowing from Aldren's back, it came as no surprise that Malarran's eyes cracked open to analyze the intruder, only for his eyelids to fling all the way back when he realized that wasn't Aldren.
At least, not in the form he expected of him.
For all his might and grandeur, Malarran's shrill almost drowned Aldren's higher-pitched, bird-like screech, his paws tripping into each other as they proved unable to decide between fight or flight. The dragon fell back onto his haunches, growling and baring his fangs to maintain his dignity despite his hind paws pointing at Aldren instead of sitting on the ground for proper purchase.
"I..." he trailed off to lick his snout and wipe away the aggression plastered over it. "You took me by surprise. I was expecting someone else, and gryphons are a rare presence here."
He took him by surprise? Him? A walking sack of useless feathers?
"You're a dragon!" Aldren pointed out the obvious, walking into the clearing far more confidently than Malarran expected from a complete stranger that intruded into his territory. His eyes narrowed, the slits within them shining with the possessiveness Aldren knew far too well. "You should have smelled me from miles way. Unless you are fine with me pissing over your trees and rocks and grass and making them all mine."
"You're welcome to do so, but if I catch you, I'll adorn my nest with your beautiful plumes," he said, recovering his footing and taking a tentative step forward, craning his head to sample his scent. "I will even give you a headstart while I am waiting for my...my...mate," Malarran settled on the most heart-warming and gut-roiling word ever.
"You weren't waiting. You were sleeping," Aldren pointed out the obvious. "Perhaps she wisely moved on."
Malarran rumbled in amusement, but Aldren knew the tonality of his growls far too well not to notice the tinge of longing coating it. "She would, had she existed in the first place. The one I'm waiting on is not so easily discouraged. For my sake, he..."
The dragon cut himself short with a growl, aware that he had entertained a stranger far too long. "It is not relevant to you, surprisingly beautiful gryphon. I'd offer you a place under my wing, but my current circumstances prevent me from that. Aldren is..." Malarran licked his snout again, surprisingly antsy in the presence of a gryphon he could easily overpower. "He won't appreciate your company as much as I would. Not in his current state. Fly west of here, until you make it to the mountain range, and follow the dried brook until you find one of my lairs. There will be furs to keep you warm."
Aldren cocked his head. "You trust me with one of your homes?"
Malarran shrugged his wings and settled down, completely at ease with the presence of a foreigner deep into the intimate heart of his territory. "You plumes are vibrant and your fur clean, so there are higher chances for pests to cling onto you than the other way around."
He tried to return to sleep and pay no attention to his visitor, but it didn't escape Aldren's vigil that his eyes continuously skipped to him, and that his webbed tail tip flicked in that eager, agitated way of his.
Of course. He liked gryphons, particularly the male variety. As a human, Aldren had endlessly teased Malarran about his fascination with the birds, but now that he was one himself, the topic suddenly seemed far more relevant.
"I'm...I'm a gryphon..." Aldren said that to himself more than to the impassive and slightly infatuated dragon.
"A very striking one, too," Malarran added, an eye shifting in his direction. "Your reddish-brown colors remind me of...of..."
Aldren's ears immediately flattened when Malarran perked his head, his spiraling horns, imposing spikes, and big, beautiful wings more imposing than ever as he shifted onto his feet; those four-toed, beautiful dragon feet that had dew claws awfully similar to thumbs on the forepaws and smaller, cuter ones on the hind paws to help with the mounting, as Aldren often teased.
"You're a gryphon!" The dragon exclaimed with an insulting level of joy and excitement, his paws kneading and raking at the ground in impatience, not knowing whether he should approach him or not. "So you...the transformation...for my sake...?"
Aldren sagged onto the ground under the oppressing weight of one too many emotions that fought for dominion over his mind, each of them threatening to tear him into a hundred pieces if not expelled.
"Why else?" Aldren gave priority to his love and loyalty for Malarran, disguising his misfortune in a way that it at least benefitted his significant other. "Certainly not because my chosen Mana Shaper lacked the proper reagents to fulfill my initial request and then abandoned me without the slightest trace of remorse. Oh wait, he did not abandon me. His pitiful refund kept me company."
By the time he finished, Aldren wished to have taken it all back; to preserve the original and mysterious question and conceal all the hurt that gnawed at him from within, all for Malarran's sake. He deserved it far too much for saving Aldren's life ten times over, but the human part of him--the festering one that couldn't yet cope with this terrible truth--just couldn't shut up.
"Perhaps he knew that you'd make a far better gryphon than a dragon," Malarran teased, but this time, it actually stung. "He went to great lengths to give you those stripes. That I can tell."
"What else can you tell?" Aldren allowed the slimmest portion of his frustrations to come out, lest they overwhelmed him. "Aside from the obvious, of course."
"That you will find your new body to be surprising in so many ways, that by morning you will thank Ylvarron for his mistake."
Aldren laughed. Or cawed, or screeched. It all sounded the same to him, an obnoxious string of sounds that only a fool with an unnatural interest in birds like Malarran would find pleasant. He immediately lifted a tentative forepaw, eager to make his way to Aldren and change his mind, no doubt.
"By all means," Aldren surrendered the pale of his belly, tucking his forepaws to his chest and pointing his pink, vulnerable pads at the dragon, as well as his exposed malehood. "Inspect your gift. Better that one of us keeps positive and finds value in this otherwise...rrrrrk..." he restrained his pathetic cries to preserve at least a sliver of his dignity.
His nape feathers immediately bristled when Malarran spurred into action, approaching Aldren with such rapid certainty that he had no time to roll away and rescind his offer. The tip of his snout immediately reached for one of his hind paws, nostrils twitching to absorb some of its scent before his tongue dragged over it.
"Rak!" Aldren squawked, kicking Malarran between his nostrils to conceal the ticklish jolt that traversed his pads. "Is that who I joined my life with? A paw licker?"
Malarran snorted in disagreement, returning to his paw for a second time for another lick, this time across the entirety of his paw pads. "You found my leathery wings fascinating, and I consider a gryphon's paws to be equally interesting, if not more so."
"Fine," Aldren conceded to his logic, but not before waiting for his tongue to try and slip between his toes and tickle his fur there to kick him a second time. "But you'll have to fight for it."
"Will I?" Malarran's long, flexible tongue wrapped around the gryphon's hind paw, dragging it halfway into his maw and into a prison of teeth that made spit stick to Aldren's throat in fear of them locking around himself. It was a silly, unnatural worry, but somehow, the graceful immensity of the dragon who towered above him made it far too real.
"Ra--kaw..." Aldren's beak began to shudder as Malarran began to suckle on his toes just like he did his member as a human, the sensation irrationally pleasant. For the most bizarre of reasons, the short motions of that soft, smooth tongue across his pads soothed him far more than he expected, the heated wetness immediately taking his mind to the moments when another part of him pulsed and twitched within his dragon's embrace.
Blessedly, the dragon expelled his soggy paw before Aldren's breath cut too short, using his distraction to plant a few more licks across the length of his pads.
"Feels good, doesn't it?" he said, shifting his attention over to his other paw to greet his toes, the pebbly surface of his scales caressing their pink, leathery surface in all the fascinating ways. "A gryphon's hind paws are particularly susceptible to affection. The birds use them to test the softness of their nests, to caress each other absent threat of their talons, and also to mutually stroke their privates to bring themselves to mutual climax."
Aldren's toes involuntarily fanned out upon hearing that, as if his very instinct craved for the tenderness that Malarran spoke about. The dragon, of course, indulged him, employing the thicker, broader middle of his tongue to lick them slowly, intimately.
Lovingly.
Aldren's heart skipped a beat, awe-struck by Malarran's sheer fondness for this body. Just like a cat, the dragon settled on his haunches and grabbed Aldren's hind leg in his forepaws, eyes closed and a soft, far too pleasant purr oozing from his throat as he basked his so-called mate in the warmth of his love. He should have found it disgusting, belittling, and completely illogical for a dragon to pay so much attention to a gryphon's feet, but when he began to rub his cheek against them to enjoy their softness, Aldren finally understood that his fondness for gryphons did not begin here, or with his human self, but long before that.
Malarran's golden eyes confirmed that. While he gently nuzzled the gryphon's middle toes, his gaze practically absorbed the sight of him, shining with an intensity the like of which Aldren had never witnessed before. Those mystical pools had a story to tell; one that Malarran had craved to share all along, but reconsidered for one reason or another.
Aldren considered asking about it, but he felt so warm in the confines of his feathers and his member felt so tight, that he couldn't help but screech in panic at how much he grew while under the attentive caress of his dragon.
"Mrrr, for all your protests, you sure enjoy getting licked."
"I...it shouldn't...not from mere paw licks!"
He tried to roll on his side and make for the trees, but Malarran's forepaws alighted on his inner haunches, applying gentle pressure to keep them splayed while he slowly lowered himself on his belly, so that his head soon descended to the level of his plump spheres and tapered, slightly barbed, and petite member.
"You're a gryphon now," Malarran said, nuzzling his taut, golden-furred sack, giving each orb its due attention. "You have different triggers now, some more intense, other less so, and your furless areas are particularly susceptible to licks, given how foreign they are."
But...he didn't want to be a gryphon! To get hard from insulting paw licks and nuzzles, and to swelter in his puffed-up feathers while his dragon's tongue hugged his sack. As a human, he never felt so warm, so vulnerable, so ready to burst with passion that completely contradicted his state of mind.
"Don't," Aldren pleaded, chirping faintly in pleasure that he could not hold back. Malarran's teasing tongue tip that traversed his soggy spheres and wrapped around the base of his small sheathe gave him no respite. It kept his beak half-opened and panting, and his eyes foggy with lust despite his dislike with his gender.
He wasn't exactly small by human standards, but compared to Malarran's shaft, his barely measured more than his fangs. And the barbs! They looked absolutely hideous with the way they adorned his base and smoothed down towards the tip, which was already glossy with precum.
"I don't...not in your mouth...not as a gryphon."
Thankfully, Malarran lifted his head, the pause in his licks finally giving him the chance to breathe and for his heart to relax its frantic beating. He did not want to spit his potentially disgusting spunk into such a treasured place. To watch Malarran snarl and groan in disgust, and for him to fly away to the nearest river to rinse his mouth off that vile gryphon seed. He knew how he smelled and tasted as a human, but this wild unknown smothered some of that pleasant heat in its icy tendrils.
"It is not your choice, Aldren."
He barely had time to process Malarran's words before the dragon's maw engulfed his privates, completely covering them from sight. Although he did not see, Aldren absolutely felt his tongue wrap its thinner tip around his balls and the thicker, more fulfilling parts coil around his erect member, its moisture and heat impossibly stimulating to his far too sensitive barbs.
"Scraa--" Aldren's caw cut short, his hind paws kicking lightly at Malarran to let go, and his forepaws reaching for his beak to help him hold on, similar to how his hands used to drape over his face.
That did little--if anything--to reduce the mind-bending bliss coursing through him. Trapped within the tightening grasp of Malarran's tongue, the pressure applied to the barbs itself was enough to set him off, the tiny nubs awfully sensitive to touch. By breathing sporadically through his gaping beak, he found a way to at least delay his inevitable throbs and to hold onto his seed long enough to find an opening in Malarran's concentration and ejaculate anywhere but inside or on his beloved dragon.
If only his partner relented that easily. As if suspecting what the gryphon intended, Malarran's tongue began to loosen, then constrict around his shaft, suckling it in the irresistible way that he employed on his human cock. Only this time, his member had no skin to mitigate his delight, but terribly sensitive barbs that responded to friction by cutting away his breath and forcing his shaft to throb with the ominous, impending motions of release.
As if the sizzling fire coursing through his lower belly and hovering at his tip wasn't enough, the lewd, suckling sounds of Malarran enjoying him so much completely undid him. His eyes squeezed shut harder than they ever did, and his beak shot open to loosen his sharp cry of release, but it never came. When his seed finally burst out of him, it did so in such strong and overwhelming bursts that no sound escaped Aldren's being.
With every hearty spurt of thick and potent seed, his toes clenched tighter, his wings jerked more intensely, and his beak shuddered so bad it clacked every time he loosened a portion of his load into Malarran's waiting and eager mouth.
"Crrrrrrk," Aldren found his voice in the middle of his orgasm, his hindquarters trembling with the urge to thrust himself deeper into that warm and wet sanctuary. Given his size, Malarran had a far too easy time caressing his length with his tongue, tightening and releasing to emulate a female's shudders, amplifying the pleasure of release beyond Aldren's wildest dreams.
He never finished so fast, so strong, and it never seemed to last that long. While entrapped in that dizzying state, his entire being seemed to funnel through his cock and pour itself into his partner, surrendering to him completely.
"Scraaaaaaaaaark," Aldren half screeched, half whined when the hold of utmost delight lessened its grip on his body. His head splayed back, panting for breath while he waited for his mind to stop spinning from this unreal experience. Malarran, fully knowing when to let go of his spent member, retreated away, but not before placing a few licks on his taut sack to either clean it or pay his perverse respects to it for keeping Aldren in such a vulnerable state.
"You taste mmmm, soft like your feathers," Malarran said, humming in contentment after licking his muzzle to spread Aldren's scent to his nostrils. "And smooth like your personality, though there was also a spicier undertone to your first release that must have been your frustrations, undoubtedly."
"Don't...exaggerate," Aldren said, summoning forth what strength he had to playfully kick Malarran between his nostrils. "It probably tasted musky and...rawk...horrible, as a first release always does."
"Not a gryphon. Not yours. Not ever," Malarran said, coiling around the slightly smaller form of the gryphon to drape a wing over him. "Is this how you imagined spending your second virginity?"
"Speak again, and I'll peck your eyes out," Aldren playfully threatened, to which Malarran responded by brushing the webbing of his tail against his sack.
"I won't find my way to you, then, and your seed will indeed grow musky from how long you'll spend alone."
That thought terrified Aldren so much, he snuggled tighter against his dragon, relying on him more than ever to guide him through the mighty confusing months ahead.
***THE END***
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