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The Gift of the Gryphon by:MalicTheWriter

How could I let it get this far? The male gryphon let out a proud huff just above me, as pleased by my scent as it had been by my body. I moaned, a feeble cry to the world as to why.

I could practically see my old self now. A once proud and radiant knight, a beacon of masculinity the world over. What had I done then, what had I done to take things this far? To end up like I was, pinned to a tree by a gryphon looking to take things all the way…

***

Radiant was the sword that laid the flora low. His singular powerful slice carving a path to this once forgotten tower, thought to be lost by all but the most driven of adventurers. It was here my fate was just about sealed.

As bright as my armor may have been, the adornment of the tower shined bright still in the sun of the noon. Were it not for the towering trees all around, this peculiar place would have been found and plundered countless times through the years of its abandonment. Instead it was as virginal as they come.

With another proud stroke of my sword I was upon and within it; content that the unknown years of disuse had left the tower as undefended within as it had looked without. The great winding stairs brought me up to the wizard's study, the door slightly ajar, and dotted with the occasional rich gray feather.

Nothing seemed out of place here, a vast assortment of tomes stretched floor to ceiling in the exact way one might suspect a wizard to do so. In point of fact, the only thing that seemed off besides the distinct lack of wizard was the gryphon adornments all over the place. Now those were curious indeed.

Gold gryphons, bronze gryphons, gryphons of electrum with little hats balancing precariously atop their beaked faces, and even a squiggly one seemingly composed of mercury which for health reasons I intentionally neglected to touch. All together they spoke of an obsession all encompassing. An obsession that seemed to accumulate a subtle yet notable focal point.

Without fail, every statue within the wizard's study cast its gaze upon the desk. More precisely, upon a very particular point atop the desk. Another statue, though one that clasped a simple golden amulet within its beak. Of course, as I suspected, and would come to find out, such an arrangement tends to imply great power.

Even as I reached out to grasp the strange amulet I was overwhelmed by the sensation that this was what I was supposed to do. That I was playing right into someone's hands, or tendrils or talons. Yet I took it anyway. Furthermore, I ignored one of the most important rules when it comes to raiding a damned wizard tower. Never try on loot without getting it tested by a trusted personal source on magic. Ideally a paid one too.

The necklace clinked off my breastplate as I hung it over my head and… nothing. At least nothing immediately beyond a profound and rising sense of unease building up within me. I stepped back from one of the many gryphon statues on display, and found my breathing to be a bit labored.

Just what kind of mistake had I made? It seemed for a moment just a trick of the eye, that all the gryphon statues eyes were on me and me alone then. Of course that was because I was standing right where they were all lined up to look, but that was more than enough to send me scampering off down the long spiral staircase and out into the lofty canopied woods.

Only one thing caught my eye on my way back to Gronstead. The sigh of a deep gray feathered gryphoness watching me seemingly from the moment I left the tower, to the moment I made it out of the valley. I think perhaps more than the panic attack in the wizard's tower, her watchful eyes prevented my return. There was a strangeness about that gryphon akin to the rest of the area.

Of course I couldn't take the damned necklace off, but the real kicker was the bit of local lore I could recall off hand. Gronstead, the town I was headed towards, was barely a sniff over a hamlet and mostly employed woodcutters. It was not the sort of town capable of keeping any properly accredited wizard afloat off the charm works that usually made up the bulk of business in small towns.

This potential problem was of course on top of Gronstead being a two day's hike out from the tower. So, on top of potentially not having the solution to my magical amulet problem, I would have to hike for at least two days just to probably be told I was out of luck. I looked back, scanning the treeline as I marched. No gryphon to be seen. After about ten more hours of stomping through the thick forests though, it was time to make camp.

By the time I found a suitable enough spot to sleep in I practically passed out in my armor. One need only make that particular mistake once to never make it again however, so eventually I rolled myself over and began unfastening things in their proper order. Everything but the necklace was coming off in exchange for a set of silken pajamas blessed to keep the bugs away.

I sighed to myself as I set the armor to the side. I felt like a total failure as a solo adventurer. This was the ever dangerous craft of which legends were so often write, how could I have been so simultaneously gripped by fear and stupidity? I held the gold amulet up to the moonlight, looking for some kind of sign that it wouldn't just melt me in the night.

That was when I first felt it. That curious tingle in the midriff, just to one side. I pulled up the silken shirt to reveal a series of fine tiny little spikes rising up through the flesh. At first I feared that this was the beginning of a grim and gory transformation into some manner of living pit trap, but instead I found myself looking at a series of feathers sprout from my core.

As unhinged as the living pit trap fears may well have been, they weren't as obviously feathers from the start of things. They rose up like spikes just before erupting free into feathers. It tickled more than it hurt, somehow itching deep on the inside of the belly in a way like nothing I'd ever felt before.

I closed my eyes nice and tight at the sight, as if I could banish the peculiar visage by re-imagining it as little else more than the beginnings of a dream, but even before opening them again I could feel the cool forest air flowing across those soft belly feathers. My eyes finally opened though, and what met them was simple enough.

The small patch of feathers had fully sprouted below my chest, and there was nothing I could imagine to do about it. Not in any real or meaningful sense. So instead I stood up to begin pacing, because of course that can help a bit with thinking. I stood to pace for hours though, and found myself forced entirely on what I could have done differently rather than really figuring out what I could or should do now. That was the overall mindset.

“You aren't a bird… you aren't a bird… think unbirdlike thoughts…" I found myself repeatedly intoning, hoping to perhaps awaken within myself some latent magical abilities and will reality to my whim.

No such luck. In that moment, so late at night, I felt counter intuitively convinced that if I thought hard enough about never having picked up the necklace at all I simply wouldn't have. This of course was even more deluded than the initial dreamlike conception of the belly feathers. As I processed just what it was that was on my I cupped my hand over them like some kind of grievous gut wound. As though it were something to survive and heal from.

“This doesn't just happen, a proper adventurer doesn't just turn into a duck or something over night… god's above… why wasn't I adventuring with a party?" I whined all by my lonesome.

It took me some hours past dark to fall asleep at last, to convince myself it wouldn't be the end of all things if I were to get a little shut eye. It helped of course that I eventually realized just how merely thinking about the problem really hard was getting me nowhere but later into the night. As with most effort regarding sleep, it took less effort and more letting go. The occasional feather sprouting beneath my hold on my belly would stir me back to a half asleep state, but eventually the sun seemed to rise to the tune of deeper slumber.

I awoke properly just past midday, my scheme to hike back to town around dinner time to plan my next steps was utterly undermined by my critically failed sleep. It appeared that the feathers, and by extension the amulet that no doubt summoned them out of me, had kept to its task throughout the night, because of course it had, that's what it does.

Far up, far down, and rather quite far around the feathers lurched awkwardly around my midriff. It felt embarrassing, like some kind of strange rash, but at least it finally became clear I wasn't merely turning slowly into some dumb bird. I was, if all the decorations were anything to go by, turning into a gryphon for certain. The subtle coloration and shape of the feathers in the light of the noon day sun was a giveaway on such matters.

Deep breath now, I had a long way to go, and given the pace of feathered growth little idea as to the time I had to get there. The chain beneath my armor pinched at the feathers sticking beneath the cloth something fierce, and I had at least one false start to the day's journey as a result of said pinching. I left my mail behind that day, not yet knowing that in a few more days I'd be leaving behind a different sort of male.

On the march at last, I refused to stop for anything inessential, making a mental note of the stream around the three quarter mark from a day's travel from the village. It was here, having stopped to drink a hand full of fresh forest water, that I first felt the formation of my beak settling in around the central tip of both lips. For only a second I mistook it for chapping, but tapping them together more than affirmed otherwise.

It became as clear as the river that this predisposition to delusion was not the necklaces fault itself, but a product of an anxious mind saddled with dreadful sleep and few remaining rations. In all my confusion it was no wonder I took the wrong turn off the trail and down the river. After all, it was late at night, and while my adventuring instincts had guided me out here safely enough, it was obvious by the sight of my elongated belly that I was working with a different sort of gut from which instincts might arise.

What then should have taken but a few more hours turned instead into a rather circuitous trek of nearly half a day. This of course being nearly an extra 12 hours of trekking spent getting lost and growing feathers. Beyond such features as feathers, the bare nub-like beginning of a tail poked out just past a soon to be ill fitting pair of armored pants. What seemed at first to be callouses within my boots could be felt more firmly and less painfully than before as well, leading me to suspect, though not inspect just yet, that yellowish scaling that had begun to sprout there amongst the many steps.

Frantic and exhausted I made my way into town. By the time I did there were too many irksome feathers around my neck to even bother hiding my problem. To say nothing of the exhaustion. I collapses in a heap of increasingly awkward armor, content and hopeful that civilization might save me yet. I fell into a deep and lasting sleep right there on the edge of town, too exhausted by the by then day long trek to remain weary of a few extra feathers.

I dreamt briefly and bitterly, the recesses of my mind clearly predisposed to a career in adventuring that this most recent snafu obviously threatened. It started first with my running around as my armor began to chip and wear away. Soon I was totally naked, running around in the back of a farm reduced to nothing more than a chicken. It was humiliating, this dream.

I awoke in a cold sweat, thankful all at once that I still had the capacity to sweat even. Where was I? Some small yurt full of decorations of a wayward ilk. There were oddities all about the place as I looked, and only after examining all those carvings did my eyes finally settle upon the old sitting before me.

“You's a magical sorta issue," she grinned.

“Who are you?"

“Medicine woman, outskirts of Gromstead."

“Oh, right. They must have dropped me off after I passed out in town."

“They dropped you here because you've got magical troubles."

“I know that."

“Tried to de-charm the thing there around your neck, but it's been double bonded to that soul of yours. I assume you've tried taking it off yourself."

“That sounds fantastic, glorious even," I intoned with sarcastic malice.

“Is that all the strength your adventurer's wit can dare to muster at such a time as this? Irony?" she said, turning her attention towards a teapot for a time before looking back to me for an answer.

“I suppose I could muster a thank you, both for the place to rest and for your investigation into my troubles. I can't imagine it was easy."

“Obsessed with gryphon's he was, yet he chose to live in a place with none. You're welcome, would you like some tea dear?"

One is never wise to refuse the tea of a terse yet forthright medicine woman. Such an act in this time of most peculiar need would have doubtless been twice foolish. So I accepted the offer, and she poured the heady brew even as she continued to speak.

“Yes, the key has to do with why he moved to a place with no gryphons, the lock of course being all your feathery troubles, and this drink here may well help us figure things out for good."

“Is that chamomile and rooibos?" I asked, tapping my beak on the edge of the glass and gently inhaling the aroma as it presented itself.

“I see your growing beak hasn't throttled your nose quite yet, yes, those are indeed the primary base to my personal tea brew," she nodded.

“And I suspect some other-"

“Yes, now go ahead, drink."

Here eyes looked manically earnest as they took me in all at once. In the abstract now I had a choice, but it felt equal parts rude and foolish to refuse the tea on offer. Sure on the one hand that was slowly becoming a claw I didn't really expect the tea to work, but on the other, it probably couldn't hurt. Bottoms up. Tasted rather good. Would recommend.

As I slowly finished my tea I found myself eyeing the bottom of the still warm cup for some clue. There in the center of the cup remnant leaves formed a relief roughly the same circular shape and size of the amulet. Tea dotted this peculiar outline in a strange and doubtlessly readable way. She held her hand out expectantly and I complied, offering the strange tea mug back to the similarly strange woman who gave it to me. In the dim light of the yurt she looked over the cup for some time, murmuring raspily to herself silently at first before speaking once more.

“Oh dear," she seemed on the very precipice of a cackle.

“W...what the hells is it?"

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, It's just..." she started, only to cackle once again.

Eventually she got over her conniptions, and with some effort clearly made to suppress her entertainment at my expense; she began explaining my fate. I was to slowly transform into a fully feral and female gryphon over the course of five weeks. This I had suspected, but it was nice to have more specificity regarding what was happening. The fact that sexual emission was the only way to handle this was… daunting, to say the least.

I tried not to blush as the solution to my growing gryphon problem was given. Gryphon cum. Either swallowed or eventually received in my new… never mind all that. I needed a gryphon's cum. That was all there really was to it, which meant there was little she could do beyond point me to the nearest town that practiced any sort of gryphon husbandry and perhaps bribe one of the gryphon jerkers to sell me some on the side.

“Thank you, kind Medicine Woman," I said, striding from her yurt.

“I do have a name."

“Oh, then what's your name?"

“And who are you, asking?"

“Right… well… thank you anyway Medicine Woman."

I spent my last few coins in Gromstead accumulating the necessary maps and rations to make my way the hundred plus miles hither to Gowyd. My only real problem, beyond the profane requirements of my curse that guided me, was the notion others of my trade might spot me on this path, all asprout with beak and feathers. Merely contemplating this proved deeply embarrassing, and as such I was keen to walk parallel to the busier streets no matter how far into the bushes it might take me.

Time passed both too slowly and too fast, as it so often can on the road. Too slow for the usual tribulations of roadward monotony, and too fast because I could feel myself regressing deeper into the changes all the while. You could consider my new feathers quite ruffled.

My neck, like my belly, had grown feathered and long. In addition, just past that first week, I was forced to trade my teeth entirely for a beak. That I could still talk at all was owed to constant practice. In fact it was a rather simple line of practice I can share with you now, you might need it later.

“Why did you pick up the necklace and put it on you stupid creature."

Now I will freely admit that this was a rather dreary line to dwell so heavily upon. It's twice intoned accusation of ignorance no doubt soured my mood more heavily than slowly turning into a dumb animal ever could. I would perhaps recommend saying something similar sounding, but of a more positive vibe.

If you happen to know a thing or two about pronunciation you might catch that my indulgence in self-defeatism included a particular stressed set of P sounds in the word “put" and “stupid". I was entirely reliant on my lips for making that particular noise, as you likely are now, and if it wasn't for the daily dozen hours of practice I'd probably still be bad at it. Anyway, something to consider perhaps.

I kept at it naturally. In fact, the added difficulty of an altered face and windpipe made it all the more essential at the time for me to perpetually lambaste myself. Oh and of course I can't forget the tail. All told I must have lost at least a day's worth of travel when that thing really decided to sprout. Must have adjusted the hindplate of my armor at least five or six times so that it would not pinch with every step.

So where was I then? Oh right, Gowyd, a peculiar mixture of desert sands and high topped trees. It was an eclectic environment apparently known the world over for its Gryphon trade. They have a whole racing scene, it's really quite something if you happen to be a more sporting sort of fellow. Even on the way into the city I found myself spotting a few gryphons from a distance.

Perhaps it would have been beautiful to me then had I not not been in the midst of so stressful a quest. Gowyd is a real stunner of a city, unless of course you find gold a little too tacky. As I clutched the golden amulet close to my heart I felt that deep down I did not find gold tacky at all. I even caught myself chuckling just a little bit as well. How silly it all was.

Then the gryphon landed nearby. My tail darted up, and I don't mean that to say in a crude or sexual sense mind you. But no, this act too I found as shocking as the sudden landing of the gryphon by my side, that to me an expression of alarm could manifest in my body with the indiscreet raising of a tail… It was really quite something.

My feathers were as ruffled as they could get. Just over a week by then of feathers sprouting and sprouting further still had not, by any stretch of the imagination, prepared me for the prescribed intimacy. It was clear that the gryphon picked up on how off the vibe was, or perhaps he just got whiff enough of the human side of my body to fly off. Either way, he departed long before enough had happened to remove the necklace.

Slowly, well after the gryphon's departure, I both calmed down and didn't. The gryphon's presence coupled with the state I was in and all the pressure and the walking it just hit me all at once. You'll have to understand I basically spent the entire week not touching myself for fear of exacerbating the changes down below… and well…

I skulked more deeply into the forest, barely able to see the town nor the road from my secret vantage point. It would have been so fascinating how dense the foliage was for a region considered a desert had I not been there for more profane reasons. Besides, even back then I was a bit of a bird brain when it came to herbs.

You don't care about herb lore though. You want to know what it was like to have one last tug of the snake before something more egg friendly took its place. I understand. All I can say for sure is that it was about as embarrassing as it was orgasmic. By the time I got the crotch plate off I could tell it was too late.

Down I went gripping anyway, the poor cock had been getting shorter every day it seemed, and now there was hardly enough left to pinch between my fingers as I tried desperately to think of princesses and queens or even witches straddling me against the tree. These images were ghostly, and soon my imagination could not help but wander towards more debaucherous delights.

The moment that image of the gryphon entered my mind I nearly came. What little remained of my cock firmed up more, making it easier to pinch. I badly tried to pry my increasingly clawlike hand off the shaft. I found myself focusing on anything else I could think of, and my attention shifted briefly backwards. I could feel the nubs of my wings pressing the back of my armor while my newly sensitive nipples pressed to the front. I moaned in birdsong, chirping out as I tried desperately to fantasize about anything other than a gryphon just to give in. Of course I failed, and could think of nothing more than his feral body stooped over me as I touched myself.

Only the gentlest of strokes was enough to set the noncock off, and my armor felt the familiar stain of my spunk one last time. I breathed a sigh of post coital relief. Some small part of the battle was over, and I lay in a puddle of its proving. I had been too slow to save my cock. Had I even wanted to keep it?

Never before had the armor been so ill fitting. Yet still I managed to work it over my body, keeping my growing wings parked tight as I finally worked up the nerve to enter Gowyd. Specifically I meandered towards the gryphon paddock side of town, where sperm might be found for sale that I might buy or even steal.

What followed was certainly a journey of its own. First and foremost my king marks were declined at all of the local banks, leaving me destitute save for my armor and sword. It then took all day to find a fair if modest price for it, only to find the sellers of a substance as seemingly salacious as the seminal emissions of a gryphon were not open late at all.

Furthermore, the gryphon handlers proved difficult to find and even more difficult to speak to. Not a word of common between the lot of them, mostly of a serpent sort. I did note a few curiously intimate glances as they spoke of and around me. Hell, for all I know one of them even asked me out.

No luck acquiring spilled milk that way though; so I simply found my way to a rentable room to spend a very lonely night growing intimately acquainted with the new bits I had. Slowly of course rose the fantasies in my mind, of going so far as to lay with the snakelike stable hands to get a drop of gryphon cum to swallow, only, of course, the fantasy grew more sordid.

As I rubbed my finger down betwixt the lips of that sex, massaging all the most sensitive spots with care, dehumanizing fantasies took up the entirety of my attention. The idea that instead of merely fucking the serpent stable hands for a drop of gryphon's cum, I would give myself first to them so that they might hand me over to a whole pack of gryphons who would take their turn with me. My whole body coiled up into fits as I felt what I at the time thought was my first female orgasm. Instead I found myself vexed through the night with a bliss of only half-banished arousal. All while the thought of being a true gryphon's plaything weighed heavy on the soul.

These notions circled my mind like a vulture, swooping in and picking away at an increasingly failing will. At one point I just found myself looking down over those black feathered breasts and beyond and seeing nothing human about me. Not really. Sure there was the vague shape of a human there, but everything otherwise was most clearly gryphon in nature. My growing wings flapped uselessly beneath the sheets as I took to a light and restless slumber.

I awoke to my own needy moans, my fantasies seemingly having followed me from waking dream to sleeping ones. But I did not have a moment to spare that day, there was so little of me left. Emptying the bed of the feathered mess I had become I dressed myself in the loose fitting clothes I slept outdoors in and ran to the gryphon stables where the seed might be sold to the public. Here I faced my final and greatest challenge, bureaucracy. It seemed as though all the money from my armor was just enough to get the milkings of their most modest studs, but any handling of such materials was strictly limited to those with the proper permits for such a trade.

I fought as best I could for that profane phial, yearning to drink it up and put a stop to these damned changes before they went too far. Of course this was a terrible mistake. Just think about it, there I was, a half gryphon, raising rabble in a room full of professional gryphon wranglers. I count myself lucky they only took half my money and tossed me out on my tail.

That, dear listener, takes us right back to the start. I had nowhere to turn to but the wilds you see, and it seems that the wilds were more than happy to receive me with animal grace. The feral gryphon landed before me, and licked along his beak. Would he let me suck his cock? Could I work up the nerve to if he did?

Not a chance either way; such a singularly pleasure oriented indulgence was not among his motives. He took to a far more fertile tact, and quickly pinned me against the ground. Despite being clothed in loose fitting fabrics, my body felt naked as his own, and I was gently tracing a claw beneath his powerful beak. Gently he leaned forward, pressing his beak to my own as he loomed over me so fearsome.

I circled it all over and around my head, obsessing over every little detail that had brought me to the here and now. How could things get this far, this close, this intimate? Dangling between my breasts, that lone tether of clothing that remained, keeping me in its own small way tethered to my humanity, that was the answer to all of this.

Down went the feral gryphon's beak then, slipping over the amulet to trace the scent he was after to its source. Between splayed legs now lay the beak, its jagged edges hovering just above those lose pants. Deftly his beak grasped the pants, cutting them clean. The soft slip of fabric falling to either side of my pussy sent sensations through my body I could scarcely fathom. All the more now I yearned to take this drake.

Reaching out with some approximation of affection, running my clawed hand along his neck as if to somehow urge him forward. It was then, upon my touch, that the gryphon began to truly respond in earnest. At last I caught sight and scent alike of his own sex, a tapered shaft slipping free from his sheath. There was clearly enough gryphon about me for him to proceed.

Here and now would have been the moment to take the approaching emission orally. To draw my body further below the beast, part my jaws and swallow. I did not though, for two very simple reasons. First, I feared I might startle him by changing positions. Secondly, I wished in that moment very badly to be taken. To be bred.

I could see in a flash a conceptualization of the future most accurate indeed. One of my fully naked birdlike body, belly swollen, gravid. Imagining even such a sigh as this turned me on all the more, and I let loose a submissive call that spurred my mate drive on and in. Tightly gripped in his talons then I grasped to the roots beneath the sand and-

SCHLICK.

He sank inside of me. A call of pleasure and pain alike escaped my beak as his shaft slipped far and fast. Already now, with the slightest of shifts forward and down, more of his cock lay inside me than had ever dangled between my once male legs. There was no coming back from this. Sure I knew the spell would only stop the changes rather than reverse them, but I… I found…

Enjoyment? No. Not that there wasn't enjoyment innate to the whole process. Like when I went to hug the beast and thank him for helping to seal my fate. There was enjoyment there. So too when I felt for a time the volume of musculature beneath the fur and feathers upon his frame… and… gods above and below his thrusting proved so gentle after a time. But that's just it, enjoyment doesn't even cover what it felt like to be embraced by something so powerful and other. To be accepted as I had been made. I was enraptured.

Another cry of sexual delight, this time accompanied by his own. What must I have been for him, the tightest gryphoness he ever fucked, but don't let me dwell for long on such aspects of his inevitable infidelity, I grow jealous of such discussion. Even contemplative, and you won't like me when I'm contemplative. No no, where was I…

Near to the end of the story for now. Near to the end of the curse to by the feel of it; the way he thrust, the way that beautiful cock twitched inside of me. I could feel the warm breath from his beak as out mutual interest in this debauched little dance came to a close. One swift last jab was all it took to send me over the three moons.

Oh how tightly I squeezed to my wild and weary lover, at once upon his seemingly boundless release I could feel the magic drawing up from me back into the necklace, sealing me forever into the body that lay beneath the beast. Only one thing in life proved more blissful than this…

Out he came with a huff and a snarl. I called out to him, yearning to be nested but knowing it was not to be. I still stood, as gravid as I knew I soon would be, and held the necklace. When he flew off I very nearly followed, and the urge to put the necklace on welled up within me.

But I knew this necklace belonged to yet another, not the one that made it, she is no longer in need of it, and neither am I. You have come here to my shop in the dusty city of Gowyd to exchange all that you once thought you needed for it.

“I can see your desire."

“..."

“Your need within that glance."

“..."

“You yearn to surrender yourself. Even more than I have."

“..."

“I was right to tell you my story then. Now, what will you offer me in return?"

I beckon for all but your clothing, and you oblige rather eagerly. Up and over the necklace comes, resting across your chest, or rather, a chest that will once have been yours. You smile with lips I can almost already see sharpening.

We exchange all you can offer, and me and my offspring pick through the trinkets and baubles of your prior journeys to parts unknown. I watch as you go to leave, and offer a polite nod before your departure. I cannot help but reminsice on my own journey over the years, only to find a wonderous glory for stronger than that old vocation of adventuring.

I know more than anything you yearned to give it up for that same most gracious gift. Motherhood. As grand a gift and calling as there ever was. This above all, these three little troublesome demi-gryphons with their sharp beaks and sharper minds…. These were the true treasure I found in that tower all those years ago.

I could tell you understood. I would not have sold the necklace if you didn't.