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Demitrice Dumaine was a very busy gryphon. Between the regular meetings, keeping employees in line, making sure everything ran smoothly in the office, and keeping the superiors happy, she was truly a cornerstone of the workplace. Beautiful and confident, the bald eagle lion hybrid was a sight to behold in any situation. Even the most mundane ones, such as workplace meetings.

This one was a frustrating one, all CEOs and executives sitting in a room jerking each other off about quarterly profits and how amazingly they were running the company. Usually this would be a relatively pleasant time: listen to them brag about their earnings, get some free coffee and good snacks, avoid most of the more annoying meetings and complaints from the office... She was the kind of worker who could enjoy a bit of time off, not one who would sit there knowing problems were piling up.

However, she did have one rather major problem that was rapidly becoming a pressing issue. Demitrice was heavily gravid, so much so that most were surprised she was still coming into work. Her heavy breasts, swollen with the pregnancy, were beginning to leak into her bra: a sign the egg was coming soon. They rested on her taut stomach, while her suit struggled to contain the bounteous flesh and maintain a veneer of decorum. Whoever sewed the buttons on both her jacket and her blouse were true heroes of needlework, as despite all the straining and moving, they were holding fast.

Usually, once a gryphon's breasts started leaking, it was customary to take a week off to allow the laying to go smoothly, to collect some of the early milk in bottles, and then return to work before the egg hatched. At least, that was what she'd read online. But Demitrice knew the office would fall apart without her there, especially by the way her phone was buzzing away in the pocket of her skirt (because no matter how tight a skirt, any real business lady knew to have pockets on hand) with countless texts of questions and concerns from people all along the chain of command. But she was ignoring them, and not just because of the general rules and etiquette of meetings.

No, she was ignoring both the prattling old badger at the end of the table and the phone in her pocket because of the damp puddle that had splashed into the bottom of the leather office chair roughly a minute ago. Her womb was cramping, her whole body working itself towards getting the egg from her body, but she was sitting as calmly as she could, talons rapping gently against the underside of the wooden table to distract her from the labor pains.

This wasn't her first rodeo. Part of being an endangered species of gryphon, and a hybrid of two fairly rare and protected species as it was, was making sure you bred to keep the numbers up, and she had a couple of clutches of eggs under her belt. She cut a matronly figure even at the best of times, despite her young age, and it only aided the fierce and powerful confidence needed to be in her role. Luckily, childcare, both duties and costs, were largely covered when she was working thanks to being part of the breeding program, meaning she could focus on work while at work, and focus on her chicks while home. But at this moment her home life was trying desperately to make an explosive entrance into her work life, and she was determined to keep them separate, even if she had to hold the eggs in with her claws until the meeting was done.

She hissed in a sharp breath through her beak, the pang working its way through her stomach rather intense, radiating from much lower on her spine than she expected. Her tail, with the white tuft on the end, wrapped around her leg and went to her leggings, pulling both them and her panties down to relieve a little of the tension there. After all, wet clothes clinging tightly to a sensitive set of lips wasn't exactly comfortable. As her tail worked on her undergarments, she could see the next person standing to present, a smartly trimmed poodle with his apricot fur in full show display. Mercedes Wagner was head of an offshoot company and was making a huge name for himself with how things were coming up. And he didn't look half bad either, though that was honestly the last thing on Demitrice's mind.

He looked across the members that were there, taking in a deep breath to begin his first sentence, when his nose twitched, his head shifting a little as he caught a strange scent in the room. Considering her panties were off, Demitrice had a fairly good guess what it might be, and could tell that he might as well since his eyes were moving from woman to woman at the table. Doing her best to blend in, Demitrice put on her friendliest smile, leaning forward to look interested in what he was about to say as her muscles clamped down, her cervix apparently further along than she had realized. She had to hold the position now, at least until the suspicion cleared, and while she took in deep, calming breaths, the new pressure on her stomach was only helping the egg's descent.

Behind her gold eye shadow and her sharp, focused eyes her mind was racing, not taking in a word of the conversation being held. Perhaps those pangs this morning hadn't been Braxton Hicks as she had originally thought. She'd always had a lot of false positives over the course of her pregnancies, so figuring out the actual start of labor was a difficult task at the best of times. And, since these were eggs coming out and not a live birth, there wasn't as much drama to the water breaking, as there wasn't nearly as much of a sac to break. She'd already nearly soaked up the whole mess with just a few paper towels, though now her donuts were sitting directly on the table, sadly going uneaten. And her one cup of coffee a day was going cold in the cool, air conditioned room. A waste of perfectly good beans.

Once she was sure Mercedes had moved on from the scent and was starting his speech, even if it was with an uncharacteristic stammer and a few quick glances around the room, she moved one of her claws under the table, slipping it into her sopping pussy. The back of her skirt was going to be soaked, and already she was trying to figure out the best way to walk out that would hide that fact, but considering how things were moving, it might be more of an awkward waddle. She could feel the pressure right at the base of her spine, the telltale pinching of nerves and intense bliss that rocked through her core as the egg worked its way down.

Half the reason she'd stuck in the breeding program past her first clutch was that damn rush of pleasure. Normally it would be an asset, as she could writhe and moan in the comfort of her own home, pussy clamping down and milking the eggs one by one as they popped out of her, orgasm after orgasm easing them through her without any difficulty. When your own arousal is turning your body into a slip and slide, it's not too hard to get the eggs out, and if it feels so good, why not do more of what you love? But that was in solitude in her home, how she liked it. Not at a meeting in front of some of the most powerful and well connected people in the city.

Her talon slid along her sensitive passage, feeling how wet she was already while she tried to figure out how dilated she was. She was hoping she had time still, as this meeting still had a few more speakers to go. Getting through those, then the elevator ride, taking the day off for a "doctor visit" and flying home to properly lay... That all could take an hour or more, and she was definitely feeling signs of being further along than she thought. No sign was quite as damning, though, as when the tip of her talon slid along the hard surface of the egg, the next amazing contraction clutching around her finger confirming it was already far enough along to have a curve.

In her mind two voices were screaming. One in utter bliss, her body loving every second of this, of its most primal need that radiated from her womb to breed, to expand her family, and to savor the delivery of the fruit of her loins. The second was mostly a huge string of expletives, cursing her body and its incredibly fast labor times. Why hadn't she learned her lesson the last time? Her last clutch she'd had a craving for ice cream, gone out to get it, ended up having her water break in the park while enjoying her cone, and by the time she'd entered the elevator to her apartment, she was already crowning. She'd been holding her first egg by the time she'd stepped out of the elevator, and her second before she got inside to finish the job. And the cleaning costs for the carpeting... luckily, another thing the breeding program covered.

Another contraction rolled through her form, almost in slow motion. Though it originated in her core, she could feel it pulling from her toes, rolling up her legs, squeezing her walls around the egg. She felt it slip, moving just an inch, which shot a tingle up her spine, her wings flaring out behind her, a moan getting caught in her throat before it made too much noise. Still, this caught everyone's attention, particularly Mercedes, who tilted his head in confusion. "Yes, Ms. Dumaine? Do you have a question?" She felt the solid form inside her, her whole body almost wrapping around it to deliver it into the world, but she couldn't do anything about it, all eyes on her.

She could have given up right there. Admitted she was in labor and needed to leave, got up, probably even gotten a VIP ride to the hospital... but that was the last thing she wanted. She was a professional, dammit, and not rain nor sleet nor eggs falling out of her loins was going to mar her professionalism. She quickly looked over his current slide, showing earnings over the quarter, and realized she had no clue what he'd been talking about. For a moment he looked concerned, and she could see his nose twitch, sniffing at the air once more, on to something being off. With her whole body quivering, recovering from the last contraction and preparing for the next, she had a moment to think clearly and took it. "Considering revenue streams, how does our performance compare with our rivals, and how do outlooks seem for next quarter?" Her voice was calm, but interested, not betraying the natural strain her body was going through.

Mercedes smiled, pointing the stick he was using to present with at her. "An excellent question, actually, and a perfect segue into our next slide. Here you will be able to see the comparison of..." Whatever he was saying faded into the background as she felt her body clench, her womb going tight as it shoved its inhabitants downward. She could practically hear the eggs clacking against each other inside her, and she had to make a choice. Did she spread her legs, let them come, and just try to ride it out? Or did she clench tight, try to hold through the meeting, and hope she made it out without picking out bits of yolk and egg shell from between her legs? She wasn't like a chicken, so it wasn't like she had to deal with eggs constantly, but just the mental image of one breaking triggered her motherly instincts. She spread her legs, hunching a little at the table as she lifted up from it, getting some weight off of her straining lower lips.

It wasn't until she did that that she realized how far the egg was. Her pubic mound was a little distended, a slight gape at her lips as the solid shape inside was forcing it open to get out. She fidgeted slightly, getting into a better position to stabilize herself as she felt another strong push coming on. She bit her talon, eyes clenching for a second and a tear appearing in the corner of her eye as she bit down. The toes of her lion paws curled, her whole body lighting up with pleasure, feeling the egg slide a little further, pressing against her clit for a moment before slipping back in. She wanted to pant, to scream out in pain, to cry out in ecstasy... but she held calm, trying to tune in to the next slide Mercedes was talking about.

However, her movements didn't go unnoticed as the female dolphin next to her leaned over and gently whispered, doing her best to keep the conversation private. "Hey, with how gravid you are, I don't think anyone would be offended if you needed to use the bathroom. And, um... you might need to freshen up anyway. Particularly if it's pushing against your bladder..." She looked sheepish, but it was clear that there was a bit of a scent in the air from the pushing, the arousal, and the water break. The dolphin seemed to think she'd wet herself, and with the hard shells against her bladder, in most instances, that might not be a bad assumption. But the gryphoness settled down, feeling the egg slide up her body and her tail flick out stock straight for a moment before she curled it around her leg once more.

"No, no, I'm alright. Just a little antsy, and trying to find the right position. It's hard with this weight on my front." She ventured a smile right as her body pushed once more, cursing herself for it as she strained not to look like a mad woman, her clit sending sparks of pleasure up her spine as the egg rolled against her outer lips, threatening to split her with its widest point before she sat back down, pushing it back into her. It was maddening, her body straining to free itself of the burden while also celebrating this luxurious extension of it... If only her body could get on the same page as her mind.

The dolphin gave her a strange look at the smile, but just slowly nodded. "If you say so..." before she went back to paying attention to the meeting. Meanwhile, Demitrice was at her breaking point, and nearing a point of no return. She could feel the eggs pressing against each other, yearning to be free, and the pressure was growing. Sitting fully was pushing them back in, which might have been triggering a strange fetish in the back of her mind, but was definitely threatening harm to the rest of her clutch. As she contemplated the merits and dangers of toying with the last egg next time, seeing how her body reacted to not letting it escape, she rolled her hips, pushing the rolling chair back a little, while her tail lifted up her skirt behind her.

She blushed a little, feeling exposed as the AC ran over her dripping fur, but it felt nice on her straining lower lips. This kind of exposure was just asking for trouble, and in a normal office situation, was the kind of thing you'd only expect from people sneaking off to the supply closet to make out and failing to fix their outfit when they came back. But desperate times called for desperate measures. Sitting just on the edge of her seat, she felt the next contraction rushing through her body and pushed with it, clenching her beak shut and gripping the table with her talons. She knew she was leaving gouges in the underside of it, but it was the only silent outlet she had as the egg crowned, threatening to roll back in once more, spreading her with its widest point. And then, with a sudden release of pressure that sent her reeling into the air with orgasmic bliss, the egg rolled free, resting in the back of the chair with the paper towel she'd put down earlier.

She gasped, panting with relief and savoring the glow, but realized that was going to cause suspicion. She then grabbed one of her donuts, quickly shoving it in her beak and blushing, acting like she was overcome with hunger. Nobody seemed to notice, or if they did, they didn't sense anything wrong as the meeting continued, Mercedes going on and on about advertising and the new growth it was bringing them. She wished she had a reprieve long enough to listen, actually curious about this topic, but with the cork popped, things were in motion that could not be undone.

She flicked her wings back over the chair, a move that was a little casual for the meeting, but a good place to rest them, as any other winged members would know. However, for her, it was mostly to shield the eggs from prying eyes and, well, to cover her tail, as it were. Her toes curled in her shoes, another shiver running up her spine as the second egg pressed against her opening, yearning to be free. The way it spread her walls so deliciously, the smooth, hard shell pressing against every inch of her sensitive tunnel at once, pushing her to her limit like nothing else could, drove her mad. Her wings fluttered on their own, a whine of desire caught in her throat, becoming the quietest whimper to belie the raging storm of passion, lust, and abject pleasure racing through her.

At this point she couldn't even leave if she wanted to, and so she was forced to sit, watching slides of sales figures and conversations be held over efficiency and policies, all while enduring the full gamut of emotions. Pleasure and pain swirled together, her face stoic while her mind melted, her toes curling, her wings shuddering, her whole body alight with pleasures untold. With each passing moment, the stress on her stomach was lessening, egg after egg rolling into the chair behind her, until, finally, she was done. As the last one left her, the aging badger from the beginning stood up. "Well, with that, I think this was a successful meeting. Everyone go about your business, and make this next quarter even better than the last." Demitrice blinked a few times, finally coming back into focus as the chairs shuffled and people made their way to the exit. When she was alone in the room, she collapsed forward, exhausted, leaning on the cool wood of the table and letting everything wash over her.

As she did, Mercedes returned to the room carrying a tote bag, a set of paper towels, and a smile. He walked next to her, lightly tapping her on the shoulder and offering her what he carried. "You know, it's very impressive how well you handled that. I thought for sure you would've headed home when your water broke."

Her wings shot out, surprise and fear hitting her as she sat up. "You knew?!"

He chuckled, sitting on the table calmly. "Of course. Even if you hadn't been leaking through your blouse, it's not like you could hide the smell. I volunteer at a breeding clinic in my off hours, I could recognize it a mile away. I don't think anyone else noticed, though." He then offered her a fresh donut and coffee. "Now, I hope this bag helps you get the little ones home, and a little something to refill your stamina. And, odd question, but... do you have a mate at home, or are your clutches through the protected service breeding program?"

She sipped from the coffee, feeling the heat revitalize her as she began to pull her clothes on properly and place the eggs in the bag. She indeed had impressive milk stains through her jacket, which was now a much looser fit considering the half dozen eggs that were no longer in her stomach. She sighed a little, taking a bite of the offered donut. "I don't have time for a full time mate. Work and the little ones are my life."

Mercedes offered a card, a smile on his handsome face. "Well, if you have some free time, come see me at my clinic. I like to help out endangered species when I can, and if you want a new clutch, I think I can help you on that front." He helped her stand up, her legs still shaky from all she'd been through, and she looked at him with a little bit of shock. He just shrugged. "We have a different bank of donors. I thought you'd like some variety. And I promise, my hands are quite delicate." She looked at him slyly, but took the card, smirking as he walked from the room with his tail wagging. Perhaps her home and work life could intersect, if only in one key position. If he wasn't secretly a dick, at least.

She hefted the heavy tote full of her clutch, happy to at least have that weight off her back, even if she was feeling a little empty now. She then called her department while fixing her top to look presentable. "Hey, I'm going to need to call off the rest of the day... Yeah, motherly issues. I'll be back on Monday, barring anything unforeseen." She looked at the card, letting out a small sigh. How quick of a turn around was there on clutches? Monday was his day at the office... "Scratch that, make it Tuesday. Thank you, you have a good weekend." She hung up, confidence in her every stride as she already made plans for the next batch of little ones. After all, as any businesswoman knew, it was important to be productive, and she made it her goal to do so with peak efficiency.