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"Is the test subject prepped and ready to go?" Dr. Noah Wu sipped at his coffee, blinking sleep from his eyes and glaring daggers at his assistants. Noah hoped his lab assistants could do something without his input, just once in his career. "We'll lose our federal funding if we don't begin testing as soon as possible."

"Yes, Dr. Wu! We've instructed him to strip and enter the Clean Room." One of Dr. Wu's harried interns flashed him a salute and hurried from the room. Seriously? What was he, a General? He wasn't THAT much of a hardass. He just valued his time and loathed people who wasted it.

Pulling up a chair, Noah sat in front of the one-way mirror, his fingers tracing the large red button marked "intercom." Taking up a file from a nearby table, he browsed it while waiting for his subject to enter his sight.

[Name: Brett Molina, Age: 24, Gender: Male, Height: 5'7, Weight: 210 Eye color: Grey, Hair color: Black, Blood Type: O Positive]

Excellent, a male. His last female test subject hadn't fared so well, and he STILL received bills or her physical therapy. A male should prove far sturdier.

Brett shivered in the chilly air of the bare-bones room. His hands covered his modest, shaved package, and he sat on the only piece of furniture in the room, a chair with stirrups. The stirrups worried him. Was he going to be expected to spread his legs for someone? Money was one hell of a draw, but he'd prefer to keep his dignity intact.

"Pleased to meet you, Mister Molina. I trust you're sufficiently comfortable? My assistants will be in shortly with your medication." A voice echoed from a speaker in the corner of the room, startling Brett and causing him to clamp his hands over his crotch, shuffling uncomfortably on the wispy paper coating the chair. Would it kill them to spring for a more comfortable seat?

Whoosh. The door at the far end of the room slid open once again, and the naked man found himself surrounded by three people in hospital scrubs. One held a glass of a milky fluid to Brett's lips, while the other two took hold of his arms, guiding them into restraints. His attempts to struggle didn't accomplish much, and as he opened his mouth to protest, the slimy fluid in the glass splashed into his mouth, coating his tongue in a salty layer and forcing him to swallow if he didn't want to breathe in the disgusting concoction. Thick and almost chunky slime rolled down his throat, drawing strangled gags, and his eyes watered.

"Relax, Mister Molina. The restraints are all for your safety. No harm will come to you." The intercom did nothing to ease Brett's anxiety, and worse still, the thick mixture he was gulping warmed his stomach, radiating waves of a strange feeling through his body. Were they drugging him as well?

"Wha-what's happening?" Brett slurred out as an intense tingling spread across his skin. As if a million needles pricked his skin at once, his nerves lit up in unison, and he clamped his eyes shut. "I-I withdraw consent. I want to go home. Let me go, bro." They should have to let him go if he didn't consent. Was there some secret phrase? A safeword?

"I'm afraid we can't do that. Your release form covered your obligations. You will be in our care for the full three-week period." Crackling slightly, the intercom confirmed Brett's worst fears. Fuck, why didn't he read that stupid form before he signed it? Was he as stupid as his college professors believed him to be?

A strange itch was beginning to spread over Brett's chest. Opening his eyes, he tried again to struggle against his captors as he saw feathers sprout from his skin, slowly spreading over his pecs. Unfortunately, firm hands had already secured his hands in straps and were now spreading his kicking legs open, placing them in the stirrups and baring his manhood and ass to whoever dwelled behind the glass. Soon, he was helpless and could only watch as changes progressed at an achingly slow pace.

First, feathers spread over most of his chest, bringing an intense itch along with their sprouting growth and coating him with white, downy fluff. The down stopped just above his navel and halfway down his arms, its extreme softness teasing his nipples. Sensitive and achingly hard, his nubs swelled slightly, sticking out above the sea of feathers. Intrusive thoughts of rubbing the sensitive skin entered his mind, and he could feel a twitch in his manhood.

Next, he felt the creeping sensation intensify in his hands, and as he clenched them, struggling against his bonds, yellow-ish orange, scale-like skin spread over them. Nails, usually well-manicured and taken care of, lengthened and sharpened into talons, then dug into the padding under his hands. Thoughts of using the new appendages to free himself raced through his head, but an intense pain deep in his bones wiped his thoughts.

Brett whimpered, terrified of the changes, but his attempts to speak tapered off into a squawk as his mouth lengthened, his nose melted into a growing orange growth, and his teeth disappeared, replaced with a sharp beak. "What's happening to me, dudes?" He managed to ask before the warmth in his stomach cramped his innards, making him thrash in place. As if his organs were shifting into new spots within his body, he felt a strange, squirming sensation.

"My boy, you're participating in the noblest of pursuits. Restoring an endangered species to its former glory." The intercom answered him as the cramping grew more agonizing, nearly making Brett pass out with the intense pain. Was this how dying felt?

Black fur was beginning to sprout around Brett's manhood, which was standing embarrassingly erect, and Brett let out another squawk as the tingling reached his shaft. To his horror, despite the intense pleasure beginning to rise in his cock, it was shrinking, withdrawing into his body. Before it disappeared, he felt himself climax, painting the floor below him with a few weak spurts of thin cum. Pleasure built in a very different way, spreading slowly through his stomach, and he felt something drooling down the crack of his ass. Puffy, glistening pink pussy stared back at him from his reflection, and he unconsciously licked his lips, ignoring the feline paws where his feet once were. It looked so inviting. Would they let him touch it if he- No. He was a man. He missed his big, throbbing, massive cock, and he wanted it inside- He wanted it back.

"Excellent. My tweaks to the genital formula have borne fruit." The intercom's calm, disinterested tone broke through the haze taking over Brett's mind, and he weakly struggled in his bonds despite the pleasure radiating from between his legs. "Test the subject's lubrication. We don't want another tearing scenario." Tearing? Brett felt his pelvic floor clamp at the thought, working new muscles he didn't know he had.

One of the lab assistants slipped on a glove, and Brett whimpered as their hands manipulated his strange, new anatomy. He could feel fingers spread him open, baring his innards to the mirrored wall. Pink and slick, with puffy lips and thin strings of drooling lubricant dripping from its clenching hole, his new pussy was one of the prettier ones Brett had ever seen, and the former human felt a flush in his feathered cheeks. He wasn't sure whether the intense pleasure radiating from his crotch was because of fingers slipping into him to test his ability to stretch or knowledge that his new sex was at their mercy, but he felt his arousal growing. He clenched with desire, and his wetness grew, thick strings of nectar rolling over his sensitive asshole.

"Manipulate the subject to completion. We need to be sure everything is in working order." Completion? Oh, no. They couldn't mean what Brett thought they meant. While his new sex was pretty and felt quite nice, he wasn't sure if he wanted a stranger making him cum.

Attempts at protest died in Brett's throat as those delving fingers began to piston in and out of his clutching depths. The assistant's free hand found the bundle of nerves above his entrance, and Brett found himself pushing down to grind against the intensely pleasurable sensations forced on him by gloved fingers. Intense need replaced his trepidation, and all thoughts whited out in favor of the desire to beg for more strokes over his throbbing clit.

Rather than fleeting, masculine pleasure, the crystalline feelings rising in his stomach slowly built until, with a high-pitched moan, his brand new pussy began to squirt, clenching desperately around gloved fingers. Fuck, was this how women felt every time they finished? Brett could get used to this feeling. He was already beginning to forget how his cock looked.

"Excellent. Responsive and sensitive, just as we hoped it would be." Approving and clinical, the intercom's voice sent a strange thrill through Brett's body. That's right. He was perfect. "I think we're ready to release the stud. Please clear the room. He's not exactly known for his self-control. I will not be responsible for any damage sustained." Damage? Why did the thought excite Brett somehow?

The trio of lab assistants filed out of the room, and Brett was left alone. Chilly air teased against his puffy pink pussy, drawing needy whimpers from his beak, and he tried desperately to press his thighs together. Stimulation just wouldn't come, and by the time the door slid open, his legs were shaking, and drool dripped from his beak. Brett never considered himself anything less than straight, but at this point, he would welcome anyone to ease the intense, desperate need coiling in his lower stomach.

Light footsteps echoed through the room, and Brett's view of his predicament disappeared behind a tall figure. Something heavy dropped on his sex, and when he looked down, he saw a massive, ebony cock that nearly reached his navel. His eyes followed the shaft to its base, then up over a chubby, soft-looking furred belly, to a down-covered chest and a cocky pair of golden eyes. Fuck, he was hot. Brett wasn't attracted to men, but something about the griffin in front of him made him desperate to feel that massive shaft spear him open.

"So this is my new little breeding bitch, huh? Got some nice tits." Magnificently masculine, the newcomer's voice sent a chill through Brett's body. The mention of the word 'breeding' made his innards clamp, and he released a slow trickle of lubricant against that heated shaft, turning his head to the side to avoid that hungry gaze.

With the virile male's cock slowly sawing over his aching, needy lower lips, he found it impossible to speak, groaning and squirming against his bonds as taloned fingers sought out his nipples and roughly twisted them. Why did everything the stud did turn him on so much? He wanted that massive cock inside of him so badly.

"Damn, Doc. I don't think you needed to tie this bitch down. The last one struggled a lot more." Approving fingers rolled over Brett's sensitive nubs while that thick mushroom tip slotted itself against Brett's hole, kissing the drooling slit against his entrance. It was so deliciously heated, and each pulse of the griffin's heartbeat swelled the head, drawing a whimper from Brett's lips. "Fuck it." The stud's talons slid down the straps holding Brett's legs in place, releasing his aching limbs.

Brett wanted to kick and struggle, to pretend he didn't want every inch of that mammoth shaft, but his legs moved on their own, taking up residence on the griffin's broad shoulders. The position forced him closer to the stud, and that massive manhood rolled up between his thighs, slick and shining with Brett's juices. Hips wiggled, grinding his drooling sex along the underside of that perfect manhood. Fuck dignity. He needed dick.

"Much better, isn't it?" Sharp claws freed Brett's new talons next, and the griffin gave an approving thrust, slicking Brett's stomach fur with his arousal. "The last few bitches had to be held down for my dick. Real boner killer. Had to fuck hard and fast to finish." Strong fingers tilted Brett's face upward, and those golden eyes nearly made his heart stop with their smoldering gaze. "Since you're being such a good boy, I'll take my time." Brett couldn't tell if his words were a threat or a promise, but they sent a thrill through him.

Once again, that heated head spread Brett's lower lips, and he threw his head back in a guttural moan as it speared into him, his sharp nails digging into the armrests below them. Slight pain, mixed with the foreign sensation of brand new walls stretching around that massive ebony manhood, assaulted Brett's brain, drawing incoherent begging from his newly acquired beak. Still, the stud didn't stop his agonizingly slow penetration until Brett felt his churning balls squish wetly against the crack of his ass. Taking the whole thing on the first thrust sent a strange sense of pride through the former human's chest, and he stared down at the bulge in his stomach in wonder.

"In case you're wondering whose name to moan, I'm Eli." The stud smirked, licking his sharp beak. Strong hands slid down Brett's thighs, and a thumb found his needy, hardened clit, rubbing circles over it as that prodigious member slurped its way from Brett's clutching depths, its slippery head kissing against his entrance before plunging back to the base in one smooth motion.

Brett was in heaven. Each push into his clutching depths brought needy whimpers bubbling from his chest and slippery, sloshing sounds from their union. Slowly building sensations coiled in his stomach, then burst into luscious satisfaction, messing Eli's fur with glistening squirts. "M-More." He murmured breathlessly, staring up into that handsome face with unabashed need.

Moments after Brett's finish, his stud sped his thrusts, balls slapping against his soft ass with bruising force. "Fuckin' best pussy I've ever had." That panting voice trailed off as a demanding beak opened Brett's, and a drooling tongue delved into his mouth, silencing his desperate, high-pitched moans. Like the rest of him, Eli's kiss was forceful, demanding, and awakened a deep subconscious submission in the former human. He wanted to bear Eli's eggs. To be a good little fuckhole for him.

Weight crashed into Brett's body with each thrust, but he welcomed every brutal push, his arms reaching around his stud while his legs slid down to wrap around his waist. He needed thorough breeding. He needed to feel Eli's cock fountain deep inside him and fill him with the gooey evidence of their union.

"Fuck, boy, here it comes. Take my clutch." Eli moaned out around their drooling kiss, and those heavy balls pressed against Brett's ass, churning and drawing up as he felt liquid heat spread through his needy walls. Impossibly productive and thick, there wasn't a single corner of Brett's new anatomy that didn't drip with a thick layer of griffin batter. Fuck, Brett hoped the griffin's seed would take. Bearing Eli's eggs would be so deliciously perfect.

Brett could only clench and bask in the warm glory of release, clinging to Eli's muscles with desperate talons and whimpering against the claiming kiss. Around the base of Eli's cock, he spotted thick, bubbling pearls of his mate's seed, and he reached down to rub the excess over his sensitive clit. Every inch of his body sang with pleasure, and he wished he could relive this moment for the rest of his life.

"Hey Doc, I know you're in there rubbing your dick, but how about you let me keep this one?" Eli addressed the mirror, slowly pushing his half-hard cock in a gentle rhythm. Sharp claws slowly traced over Brett's chest to reward him for his acceptance, and the sensitive skin they trailed over shuddered under his silky down. All thoughts of escape were long gone from Brett's head, replaced by an intense need for more of his stud's touch. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? Carrying my eggs and letting me play with this pretty pussy whenever I like?"

"Elias, you know that we don't control our subjects' behavior. After his three weeks are over, it's his choice if he wants to leave." There was a soft pant to the voice over the intercom, as if he'd recently exerted himself, and Brett realized that Eli's quip was likely right. The doctor was touching himself to Brett's breeding. Why did the thought send a shudder through Brett's sex?

"At least let me take him back to my place. I'll take good care of him." Possessive hands massaged Brett's chest, and that beautiful avian member slipped from his depths to smear thick seed over his sensitive lips, the head resting comfortably against his clit. "Nothin' hotter than watching them grow with my eggs."

"If you promise to be gentle with him, I can arrange for shared accommodations. BUT. If you break this one, we'll switch to artificial insemination, and I promise that I'll personally see to it that the milking machine is ice cold. Every. Single. Time." Crackling finality silenced the intercom while Eli visibly winced at the threat.

"Hear that, my sweet little hen? You're all mine." Eli sucked Brett's nectar from the fingers that had so dextrously pleased him, and the sturdy griffin heaved him from the table, his biceps bulging with effort. Strong arms enfolded his freshly changed body, and doting fingers caressed his rear. "You'll love every second of my company, I promise."