Gryphon Habits

---

Forcing His Keeper Against Their Will

This story contains non-consensual erotica between a non-anthro gryphon that is intelligent and sentient, understanding their actions, and an anthro wolf.

This is written to be fiction and fantasy and to be taken as such.

Consent should always be acquired if any sexual acts are to take place.

Not many came by to see the gryphon in his habitat at the zoo anymore, though the gleam of intelligence in his eye was perhaps one of the things that put people off. They knew that he was sharply canny, that he had words there, in his head, even though he did not possess the human-like vocal cords to let them loose in a way that they could understand. Even if they did not put that into words for themselves, they still knew it all, all in some way.

His black feathers gleamed with good health, tipped with blue in the right lights, his feline half furred in grey, as the gryphon who didn't have a name watched and waited. The rocks in his enclosure helped him stay hidden when he didn't want to see anyone, but the gawking tourists of humans and furries alike did not make him any more inclined to come down to them. He was not a pet, not a dumb wild animal, but they didn't see him like that, just because he could not vocalise those thoughts in a way that they could understand.

He paced, everyone knowing that he was not there to do anything entertaining anymore. At first, when he'd been younger and more innocent, he had leapt and cavorted, acting out at feeding time for the shrieks and thrills of the crowds, but those times had long passed. He'd grown, he'd matured and he'd grown sullen with his captivity. There was not even any comfort or companionship in there for him, leading him to pace and pace, sometimes pretending that his reflections on the glass of his enclosure were other gryphons.

The door creaked open, his keeper entering in their full protective gear, as they always did. He yawned lazily and rolled over on his mossy rock, one of his favourite spots to relax in, if one could have a favourite spot in prison. He fanned a black-feathered wing out as if to say that he was not bothered with seeing his keeper that day, though the wolf furry was hardly in any position to convince him otherwise.

"There you go, feathers, you're a good boy, everything okay here? I know there's not much activity down here lately, but there will be plenty to see you soon."

The gryphon listened, though he did not give any indication that he was listening, not even his tail moving, feigning slumber. His keeper, a wolf anthro who went by Lannie, stumbled along, cleaning droppings into a wheelbarrow, the rattle and scrape of the tools obnoxious to anyone's ear. He probably wasn't all that bad as far as a keeper went, though it was not as if the gryphon would have chosen to have been captured and imprisoned and looked after by anyone at all. If he'd been out in the wild, he would have been more than capable of looking after himself.

But they kept him there, locked him in, the mesh covering his enclosure stopping him from even flying out. Why, there was hardly even enough space down there for him to really spread his wings and fly, trapped in a pit of sorts, though it was above ground. That didn't mean that it felt like that to the dark gryphon, however, pacing and twitching, shunning the light for shadows, which offered him a tiny sliver of comfort. The cool was better for him than sunning himself, warming feathers and bones.

No... That would be better down in the sunshine. That was why his heart smouldered, digging his claws into the mossy rock on which he lay, eyes gleaming.

Soon.

He didn't know how, but it was time. It was time, it had been time for a very long time.

The wolf talked on, refreshing the water troughs.

"They're starting a breeding program here, going to show everyone you, let you see a bit of the world. They'll even let you travel to other zoos and collections so you can see their hens. They want you to breed all of them, isn't that great? Everyone will be giving you attention and, maybe later, they'll even bring back some hatchlings here to live with you."

He scoffed and turned, tail flicking. But something had caught the gryphon's attention in the stream of words, soothing words but not helpful words, from the wolf's lips.

Something that he had never considered before...

Breeding? He sat up, yawning, ruffling his feathers, preening a wing. That word awakened something in him, a stirring of need, something twisting and coiling in the pit of his stomach, snarling for release. Oh, he was a beast and he was one that had been locked up for far, far too long. Maybe it wouldn't have all been pent up if he had been allowed any kind of life, if humans and furries had realised just what kind of creature he was, that there was far more intelligence behind his eyes than they had ever realised.

But it was there and to not take it would have rendered him amiss from claiming and taking his birth right, something that he had not known existed. It flared through him as he locked the wolf in his sights, the protective chest wear and down his legs, as if he was a falcon to be handled tamely, nowhere near enough to fend off an adult gryphon, though he had let his keepers, in the past, believe that it was enough. The moment, after all, had to be right for him to make the most of it.

And that very moment had come.

He stalked the wolf, step by step, hunkered down low to the ground. That was all instinct, for he was not trying to appear discreet in any way, a low growl rising from his throat, beak clicking, the wolf's head coming up.

"Feathers? Feathers, are you okay?"

If that was some kind of pet name for him, it was not a name that the black gryphon would have ever given himself, not as he snarled, anger roiling behind his eyes. Breeding need was upon him, something that he understood at last as part of the source of his fury, the pent-up nature of pacing and pacing, needing something that he couldn't put a meaning to. Again and again, he'd stormed about his enclosure, instinct telling him to do something, but without something or someone to give him a hint and lead him there, it simply had not been possible to uncover.

The wolf whimpered, stumbling backwards, holding up a rake and few gallons water bottle as if they would be enough to stall or stop the gryphon though, really, they were a play at a defence. It was too quick, too sudden, as the gryphon lunged, a raging mass of feathers and claws, ripping, tearing slicing. But he was not trying to cut through the wolf's hide as he grabbed that armour-like clothing, the thicker leather, his beak slicing straight into it as if it was butter.

The wolf sucked in a breath, his heart beating deliciously fast, but his cries for help were strangled, gargled, a heavy forepaw of the gryphon landing on his throat. He fought, kicking out, but there was only so much he could do as the gryphon loomed, filling his vision, a black mass that dominated, controlling him so easily, down on his back, stones digging in, though they were very much the least of his worries. There were far more pressing matters to concern himself with as the gryphon's hot breath washed over him, wishing that he had worn his mask and helmet, though they were not all that much help against a beast like the gryphon, he finally understood.

The only reason that he, as a keeper, had been allowed to go about his duties in the gryphon's enclosure had been by the grace of the gryphon himself. And now the creature was there to take his retribution for all the wrongs that he sensed had been done to him, one after the other.

Death? Eaten? Was he going to be eaten? The wolf's heartbeat pounded harder and harder, the gryphon quivering in the delight of it. Oh, it was glorious, glorious to finally be the hunter, the breeding, though his first there was not going to be a female, as he had thought, as instinct dictated, but an act of dominance that would not result in eggs, which would be a pity. Yet his body yearned for it as much as his sour heart, the sheath at the crux of his hind legs, a little in front of where they joined his body, plumping out with a length of shaft that was rarely seen.

End preview.

_ _

_ _

_ _

_ _

_ _

Thank you for reading! This story is available to purchase, worldwide, via Smashwords and Commiss.io!

Smashwords:https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1090248

Commiss.io:https://commiss.io/listings/3KLD

Thank you for reading!

If you enjoyed this story, please take a look at my website, where similar stories are listed by kink!

https://alismitsy.wordpress.com/

All new releases will be announced via my Twitter account!

@alismitsy

I am also available for custom stories, tailored to your preferred nuances and characters. Please e-mail the following address for further information.

arianmabe@gmail.com

---

---

---

---

---

If you liked this story, you may also enjoy...

Taken by the Demon-Stud: Punished and Bred by a Monster

Lisa knows that she should never have stolen from the demons that she worked for - well, everyone worked for them in one way or another. That much was true. But she'd thrown herself at a way out and pushed herself on to do it anyway, everything that she had ever worked for backfiring in her face all over again.

For he was coming for her, pushing her to obey, to submit, commanding dominance over every last tiny bit of her body. His dominion was absolute and there was no escaping the wrath of a demon as he bore over her, his fiery phallus seeking out her entrance to power through, harder and faster and deeper than ever before.

She'll never be the same again after being bred and taken.

Such is the way of a whore to the demons...

Virgin Sacrifice: Taken by the Horse Lord

When a mare is chosen to sacrifice to the horse lord, there is little that can be done and Bwci is very much an unwilling sacrifice, twisting and writhing and fighting every step of the way as she is taken before the Horse Lord in all his might. Strapped down in tight bondage, the virgin mare's rump is raised for him, an anthro in the prime of her breeding life ripe to be taken in the most carnal way possible.

The only question is whether her plump and virile little body will survive the breeding, stretching around his massive length and girth, or whether her screams will be heard back in the village... Untold pleasure awaits in the hooves of the Horse Lord, but even that pleasure comes with a price of breeding!

A Dragon's Plunder: Violated Against His Will

Who knew that a simple hike could go oh so very wrong so quickly? A seasoned hiker, Glyn thinks he knows everything that's out there - particularly in the land that is practically in his own back yard. But one man is about to be knocked down a peg or two when a beast from above takes it upon itself to claim the male for his very own...

Please note that this story contains gay, non-consensual, fantasy erotica between a human male and a dragon.

Servicing the King's Dragon: Taken by a Beast in the Palace Stables

Cayold has been a servant at the palace for several years, enjoying the solace in having a roof over his head. It is not the most glamorous work, but it keeps him off the streets and begging in the village. However, things are set to change when he is sent to care for the King's prize dragon, a majestic beast with intelligence beyond that of a mere creature.

The dragon has needs to be fulfilled and Cayold is the next servant he has chosen to partake in his very particular desires...

A dragon, after all, requires a mate.

This is a gay erotic tale containing consensual intercourse.