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"Order up!" Rita shouted while sliding a stein across the bar countertop.

A patron toward the end fumbled but caught his beer before it careened off the edge.

"T'ank ya!" the gryphon slurred. He raised his mug in a cheer.

The other patrons were so rowdy that Rita barely heard him over the clamor. It was getting to be the hour where the guests who'd yet to retire to their rooms were either drunk or in the process of getting drunk. She'd handed out her last drink for the night. Those drunkards needed to retire to their rooms before Rita lost patience and had to put on her stern tavern keeper voice.

"Everyone's cut off," Rita said to one of her employees. "Kick any troublemakers out if you have to."

The rhinoceros, who was drying a mug, inclined his head in a curt nod and scanned the room. The gryphon at the end of the bar had downed his ale and seemed to be in the process of becoming one of those troublemakers.

"Looksee," the little dove gryphon said to the small crowd he'd gathered. "See, if ya practice"--between his palms he held a flicker of white flame--"ya can make it cold! Catch!"

He hurled the ball of flame at another patron, who stumbled backward when the ball smacked her in the chest. She tripped over a barstool and crashed into a table, toppling bowls of half-eaten stew along with a couple other patrons.

Rita glared across the room at the sorcerer as he stood, wobbly, from his stool, and shouted a loud, "Whoops! Sorry 'bout that."

He staggered forward to help the poor bystander, but before he could make a mess of anything else, Rita vaulted over the bar and snatched him up by the back of his cloak.

"Ey!" He began to squirm, but he stopped when he saw Rita over his shoulder. The two gryphons locked eyes.

"Uh--um," he stammered. "Didn't mean to do that. My bad."

Rita dropped him and he managed to balance.

"Get to your room!" she squawked, "before you wreck something else."

The smaller gryphon held his palms up in front of him. "Okay, okay. Geez, I'm goin'." He dusted off the front of his cloak, which was completely clean, and wobbled to the staircase that led to the upper level.

Rita watched him until he was out of sight, listened for a few seconds longer to make sure he hadn't fallen, then turned her head back toward the dining area. A scuffle was brewing between the fallen patron and the patrons whose dinners had been ruined. Rita rolled up her sleeves and marched over to resolve the conflict before the whole room erupted into a fight.

---

Upstairs, Arno fumbled to undo his cloak fastener; he wasn't about to sleep fully clothed in the early summer heat. He managed to disentangle himself from the fabric, which he tossed onto a small dresser at the side of the room. Undoing the buttons of his tunic and stripping down to his underwear was another challenge, but after missing a few buttons and then starting over to make sure he got them all, he was able to pull it off and toss it on top of his cloak.

Arno flopped face-first onto the straw mattress and was asleep before he even realized he'd lain down.

---

"Wake up!"

"Guh--whu?" Arno's head was pounding and the room was way too bright. He didn't remember leaving the shutters open.

"It's past checkout!" Rita stood over him, hands on her hips. The tufted tip of her tail twitched behind her. "You have to pay your tab and get out of here."

Arno sat up and tried to blink the sleep out of his eyes. He was unbelievably groggy. "Can I have maybe another hour?" he tried to negotiate.

"No! Get dressed, get to the bar, and pay your tab."

"Uh, 'bout that," Arno said as he stretched his wings and arms. "I mighta got sorta robbed b'fore I came in, sooooo..."

"What?!" Rita snatched his cloak and tunic off the dresser and threw them at Arno with enough force that it nearly knocked him backward. "You came in here knowing you couldn't pay?!" The feathers around her neck fluffed.

"Well, y'see, I, uh..." Arno glanced behind him at the unshuttered window while he scrambled to get on his tunic and cloak. If he made a good leap, he could probably flutter to the ground pretty safe--

Rita pulled him toward her by the front of his half-buttoned tunic.

--ly.

"No, no, no. You're not skipping out of here. If you can't pay right now, you're going to stay here until you've worked off that tab."

---

Arno was elbow-deep in greasy dishes, scraping off bits of congealed, unidentifiable food. It was lunchtime, so the chef was actively brewing up more of whatever gruel the patrons were scarfing down like they hadn't eaten in weeks. The dirty bowls and mugs were never-ending. Every time Arno thought he made a dent in the pile beside him, when he looked back at it, it seemed to have reset.

"Arno!"

He cringed and looked over his shoulder at Rita. "Yeah?"

"Stop slacking! We need clean dishes!" she barked while balancing a tray of full steins on the palm of one hand.

He winced, muttered a "yes, ma'am," and turned to the dishes again.

"Hurry up! We're running low!"

He scrubbed faster.

---

Arno didn't know how to do anything right. He was so slow at dishwashing, one of the simplest jobs Rita could imagine, and broke so many bowls that he was actively costing her money. She tried to have him deliver meals to tables--not taking orders, but just taking trays around the room--but if he wasn't dropping something, he was taking orders to the wrong patrons. He was bad at mopping. The stew started to burn when he was instructed to watch it. Housekeeping upstairs was the last job she could think of assigning him, but Arno was a literal flight risk. At this point, was keeping him around worth it? Skipping out on his tab wasn't the worst thing he'd done.

"'Ey, boss!" Arno clunked an empty tray down behind the bar. "I gotta take a wicked piss." He gestured with his thumb toward the outhouse behind the building.

Rita pressed the heel of her hands against her temples. "Okay. Go."

"Yer not worried 'bout me runnin' off?"

"Just go," she said through a sigh. It was probably for the best if he did run off. Her patience had run out hours ago.

"A'right, sick." Arno jogged out the back door.

Rita sighed.

---

Arno did, truly, have to take a wicked piss, and he was happy that nobody was going to be standing on the other side of the outhouse door waiting for him this time. He trotted to the edge of the property, stepped inside one of the grimy outhouses, and did his business with a sigh of relief.

No longer bothered by the need to pee, he stood there, fixing his pants, and realized this was a great chance to sneak off. Rita had done nothing but be angry with him all day. He wasn't getting anything done. Rita was stressed, Arno was stressed--they were stressed.

Arno cracked open the outhouse door, beak and eyes the only things visible to try to keep his iridescent neck plumage from drawing attention. Nobody had come to make sure he stayed there. There were no sounds to suggest someone was waiting for the stall, patron or otherwise.

"Sweet," Arno muttered. He threw his hood up and cinched it around his throat, wings tucked in tight, and crept off into the edge of the forest. Rita had his empty coin purse as a means of collateral in case he escaped, since it was his only slightly valuable possession, but he could get another one of those later.

He thought he was home free when he heard a familiar voice bark his name.

"C'mon," he whined while he turned toward Rita, who stomped over to him. "I'm not really doin' anythin', so lemme jus' fuck off, will ya?"

"You are totally useless," Rita said, now a foot away from his face.

Arno had never been so glad to be insulted. On any other occasion, those were fighting words, but right now they were his ticket out of here.

Rita pressed her hands to her temples. She looked like she wasn't completely sure if she wanted him out of her life. "You still owe me 15 copper for the room, plus 20 for the food and drinks, plus 10 for the dishes."

Arno drew air through his partially open beak. "Ouch. Yeowch. My bad." It wasn't the worst he'd ever skipped out on, though. He glanced around; he was totally free to bolt out of there. "Sooooo... I can go, yeah? Since I'm tryin' my best but ain't really gettin' anywhere. Since I'm accident'ly breakin' shit and all."

Rita glared down at him. "Well. I can think of at least one thing you'd be good for, then we can call it even."

Arno's ears perked. "Yeah? Whassat?"

Rita smirked--the first time Arno had seen anything close to a smile on her perpetually aggravated face. Or maybe she was just aggravated by him. "Have you ever used your body to pay off a tab?"

Arno raised his eyebrows. "Well, no, but..." But he did like sex, and imagining a domineering Rita pinning him against a tree and breeding him was...kind of hot. "I mean, I'm not 'gainst it."

Rita walked forward and Arno backed up with his palms raised in appeasement until he was stopped by a tree.

"Are you up for it?"

"Well...kinda, yeah."

"'Kinda'?" Rita leaned in until their beaks were almost touching.

"I mean...more than kinda. Yeah."

Rita stepped back and loosened the laces at the front of her skirt, then pushed the opening down until her slit was visible. It wasn't what Arno expected, but he wasn't against it. With another glance at Rita, he got on his knees and took his tongue to her slit.

She made a sound of approval as he slipped his tongue into her slit, where it was hot and wet. There was something solid behind his tongue--something that began to push forward as he pulled away. A slender, tapered pink cock slid out and greeted him, and Arno raised an eyebrow before he leaned forward again and took it into his mouth.

Rita rested a hand on his head, petting Arno as he took more of her emerging cock into his mouth. The full length of her cock curved slightly down into his throat, but it was more than manageable. He pulled back and looked up at Rita, tongue on the underside of her cock, then pushed forward and took her to the base again.

She purred above him as he bobbed on her cock; the sound went straight through Arno, rumbling in his ears and tingling his senses.

He pulled away with one last, long lick to the underside of Rita's shaft, and looked into her eyes before he stood up.

"You're not done," Rita said through a smirk.

"Yer damn right I'm not." Arno undid his own trousers, dropped them to his ankles, and stepped out of them with one leg.

His t-dick was hot with anticipation as Rita raked her eyes across his lower body. She suddenly crouched, and with a fluid motion, slid her hands between Arno's legs, grasping the back of his thighs, and picked Arno completely off the ground with his back against the tree.

"Whoa--" Arno put his hand on Rita's head, now belly-level with him, to keep balance. "Shit." His calves rested over her shoulders.

She took the tip of her tongue to his clit, eyes locked with him, and he shivered.

"Aw, fuck," he panted while she closed her eyes and worked his pussy.

She slid the smooth surface of her beak over his clit, then laved over it with her tongue before sliding it down and sweeping across his holes. Her iron grip kept him against the tree even as he began to squirm under her maw. Rita's tongue tip slid between his hood and his clit, zinging pleasure on the edge of discomfort through his belly, then slid away and lapped over his urethra.

"S-shit," he gasped. Arno was so wet. When he looked down, he could see it glistening on Rita's beak. "I--" He was getting close. "Fuck," he groaned.

Rita pulled her mouth away and Arno squawked. "'Ey! I was almos' there!"

"I know." She brushed his legs off her shoulders with her vibrant wings and set Arno on the ground to try to stand on his shaky legs. "I wasn't, though. Turn around."

"You gonna make me?" Even as he said it, Arno began to turn around.

Rita sped up the process by taking him by the hip and all but spinning him around. He braced himself against the tree with both palms, panting.

"Y'know, I think I kinda like me a strong girl."

Rita snorted a laugh. She slid her hand between Arno's legs, rubbing his clit between the inside of two of her fingers, and he let out a soft moan and raised his tail.

"The word you're looking for," she said as she slid two fingers of her other hand into his soaked pussy, "is woman."

"F-fine," Arno panted. "A strong woman."

"That's better."

Rita was an expert at this. The slick sliding of his clit between her fingers wasn't enough to make him come, even with the fingers of her other hand thrusting carefully inside him, and that was probably the point.

"You gonna make me beg?"

"Maybe."

Arno wasn't against it, especially with how badly he wanted to come. His entire body was tense and trembling with need.

"Y'gonna breed me?" Arno looked at Rita over his shoulder, smirking, and swayed his hips. The way Rita's eyes followed his movements was a tremendous confidence boost; she wanted him just as much.

"C'mon," he said, arching his back. "Breed me."

Rita slipped her fingers out of him and lined up her cock. It looked like Arno was the one giving commands now.

"C'mon. Gimme yer cock."

Rita grasped him firmly by the hips and pulled him back onto her cock.

"Hmf," Arno groaned as her cock finally filled him. He was so wet and needy that she glided into him easily until her tapered cock was in to the base. Behind him, Rita made her own sound of pleasure.

Arno pressed back into her and she pressed forward into him. It took only a few thrusts before they were in the rhythm of Arno pressing back against Rita at the same time she was thrusting forward into him. The two gryphon's bodies fit together like puzzle pieces--snug, yet a perfect fit.

Rita leaned over Arno, bracing herself on the tree trunk with one hand while her other one slid between Arno's legs again to tease his t-dick.

"Aw, fuck," he groaned, tail curling around one of Rita's legs. "Fuck, I'm almos' there."

"Mhm," she agreed in his ear. She alternated between grinding into him and fully thrusting.

As the final pre-orgasm tingles of pleasure began to build in his clit and pussy, Arno thought they were almost done--that they'd both finish and go their separate ways. But something felt different.

"Ah? Whu--"

Something soft and hot squirmed against his cervix, and it wasn't the tip of Rita's cock. She continued to thrust--Arno looked over his shoulder to see her eyes were closed--and that deep squirming grew. It wasn't just at his cervix, but creeping through his entire pussy, up along Rita's cock until the squirming reached his opening and squeezed past Rita's cock. The sensation dripped down across his urethra and clit until Arno heard a soft dripping onto the ground.

He looked between his legs at the puddle forming between them--a puddle of his own lust and...and...one-inch, slim, squiring black things. Alarm prickled in his brain, but that squirming--fuck, it felt good. The ones near his cervix writhed around it, and then a sharp tingle slipped deep into him and yanked a new sensation out of him.

"F-f-fuck," he panted. There seemed to be an endless amount of little wrigglers coming out of Rita. They filled him tighter than her cock, working his aroused insides into clenching tingles. It was like he'd already started to have a weak orgasm, but the buildup to something much bigger still throbbed through his lower body.

More of those tingling little things worked deep in him, pooling in his belly where nothing had ever been before. The steady stream dripping from his pussy began to grip him, redirecting until they prodded at his urethra.

Arno groaned another expletive as they wriggled into his pisshole. Every little undulation of their bodies dragged new and electrifying sensations from him and zapped him with a nauseatingly good, overwhelming pleasure when they slid into his bladder. Wrigglers that were blocked from his pisshole by the crowd slid past that, squirming under his hood even while Rita continued to rub him.

It was so much. Way too much. Arno gave himself over to the building pleasure inside him--let those shallow contractions explode into the hardest orgasm he'd had of his life. His hips bucked back into Rita, entire body trembling around hers--t-dick throbbing and pussy flooding with pleasure--as she pressed forward and came with an explosion of worms and hot--almost searing--gryphon cum.

Rita pulled out and a flood of cum, worms, and his own lust dribbled onto the ground between his feet with dull thuds and splashes.

Arno's legs gave out, but Rita moved quickly and caught his hips. He stood there--barely--claws lodged in the bark in front of him, desperately trying to catch his breath. Before he could try to stand, Rita pulled him back against her, then flipped him, grabbed him by the back of his thighs, and wrapped his legs around her waist.

"I--I fuckin'--" Arno couldn't possibly go for another round. "I--ah..." Those things just didn't stop squirming.

Rita held Arno up with one hand while the other slid to the base of her softening cock. She guided the tip to Arno's urethra, pressing her cockhead against him so snugly it felt like she might slip in. With a groan, followed by a low sigh, Rita began to--to piss?

Arno couldn't have protested if he wanted to...but he didn't want to. He lay his chin on Rita's shoulder, moaning weakly as hot piss and those little wrigglers filled his bladder to its limit. The sensation inside his bladder was so different than in his pussy, cervix, and deeper--he gasped and let out another moan as another intense wave of toe-curling pleasure slammed into him.

Arno came so hard he went blind for a minute. When he finally came to, panting hard on Rita's shoulder, his entire body was limp and the only thing holding him up was the tree behind him and Rita's hands on his ass.

"Good?" Rita asked in his ear.

Every little movement and wiggle of the critters inside him drew another tiny flash of pleasure from Arno's exhausted body. He could do nothing but moan in response.

"You asked me to breed you," she said, "so I did."

Once Arno's body started to respond to him again, Rita slowly set him down. Trembling, Arno finally stood on his own power.

"They'll settle in eventually," Rita said. "It won't be so overwhelming."

"Y-yeah?" He looked up at a smirking Rita. "Wassn' 'xactly what I had in mind when I said 'breed,' y'know?"

"It's not what most people mean, but I thought it was a fun surprise."

Arno placed a hand on his belly, feeling the squirming inside him on his palms. How many of them did there have to be for it to be that obvious? He felt, then looked down and saw the soft bump of his overfilled bladder.

"S-so," he managed to say, "debt paid?"

She chuckled. "Debt paid." Rita looked past him and gestured with a talon. "There's a river you can clean up at. You probably don't want to carry my load in your pants all day."

Arno's cheeks fluffed in a blush. "Yeah. I really don't."

"Come visit me sometime." Rita leaned in and gave him a gentle peck-kiss on the forehead. "I'd love to see how my babies are doing."

"Y-yeah," he stammered.

Rita fixed her skirt, gave him another kiss, and headed back to the tavern as though nothing had happened at all.

A still-trembling Arno kicked his pants off the other paw and collected them from the ground. He really needed to clean up...and take another piss.