“It’s only hubris if I fail”.

It was that smug and self-confident mentality that had gotten the holier than thou hen into this mess in the first place, as the naïve griffoness failed to realize her grave error until she was already way out of her depth. Mecka Petrov boldly marching directly into a hive of scum and villainy with the simple intention of saving souls baptised in sin, though she should have known better than to deviant dregs and wrongdoing wretches to repent, especially if crime was so profitable. The lower rungs of goons and enforcers for the Graffiti Crime Syndicate seeing no need for a spiritual awakening, and instead, they looked on in bemused bewilderment at the foolish formel who had been dumb enough to descend into their delinquent neck of the woods.

The crass jeers and harsh laughs not deterring the plucky puritan though, as she was willing to surmount any challenge of faith in order to prove the omnipotent power of her divine lord. The ability to manifest miracles not lost on feathered fanatic, who in her indoctrinated fervour honestly believed that she was worthy to test her god with a task so trivial as a drinking contest. The gullible griffon sure she would win, even if this would be the first time she had ever partaken in the devil’s grog, as she was so drowned in her dogmatic doctrine that she was completely confident of her looming victory over these heckling heathens.

The moralist prude possessing all the tact of a dullard, as in her haste she failed to realize that to engage in such things regardless of intents was to sin, so it was no surprise that her disgusted deity abandoned her to the pagans the moment the whiskey crossed her beak. The loss was almost instantaneous, as by the time she had sipped a single shot, the stallion across from her had necked the entire bottle with the chugging prowess of a seasoned alcoholic. The flabbergasted formel looking on in shock, with a confident thud he plopped the empty bottle on the stained tabletop, leaving the hen to dwell on the abruptness of her defeat.

Mecka frozen for a moment, unable to compute how this unbeliever had so easily bested her, before she realizes that now she would have to pay the shameless toll of her little wager. The hen letting out a reluctant grumble, as with unwilling claws, she began to slowly strip herself of her humble garments with shaking hands. The griffoness not ashamed of her natural form, it had been crafted by the divine after all, it was more the desire to preserve her maidenly modesty, as bit by bit more skin was hesitantly put on show. The entire perverse process making Mecka sick to her stomach, as she was reduced down to just a sexual object to be leered at. A degraded and humiliated harlot for their impure wants, as now she had to walk to the bar and buy the next round of drinks as naked as the day had hatched.

The hen putting on a brave face, as she made her way to the bar, even if she knew there were dozens of lecherous eyes staring at her. Every dishonourable step feeling wrong, as she was rendered down into just another adulterous idol forced to play to the rules of this corrupt club. The two glasses seeming to take an eternity to fill, before she set off back to her table, tail between her legs in an attempt to preserve her from her own shame. She would never make it though, as after only a few steps, she felt a pair of cloven hooves grasp her tender buttocks, and with a shunt, she was forced to the floor, to sneering applause and the clatter of spilling booze.

Mecka in a stunned state of shock, as she had not expected such a disrespect to her personal space, causing the hen to seize up, unable to react even as she felt something turgid and moist boop betwixt her buns with a soft stab. The urge to plough virgin soil too much for one of the patrons, as with a cringing shiver, the griffon felt a ravenous tongue run up her svelte neck in a savoured lick. The pleased purr clearly feminine, though based on the package pressing against her clenching rear, this could only be one of those abominable herms she had heard rumour off. The gleeful muzzle of a goat slipping over her shoulder, as Mecka found herself at the mercy of some satanic bovine which seemed hellbent on demonic defilement.

“Mmmh…. You taste good pigeon, I hope you wreck my ass as much as I am going to wreck yours,” said the predator pinning her with a menacing murmur, as the female fiend made it quite clear that she was about to punish this pathetic proselytizer until all that remained of her was a steaming coil of Capra crap. The solid cock sinking into the clenching sphincter like a knife through butter, as the goat seemed to savour the sensation of the hapless hen trying to deny her of her carnal needs with a few ineffective clenches of her cowering core. A startled squawk slipping from her bill, giving the debaucherous doe the perfect window to snake her long tongue into the griffoness’s gagging gullet, in a French kiss that delved far past the tonsils. The tight throat throbbing against the limber limb, though the gentle squishing of the unprepared oesophagus did little to discourage the swapping of saliva.

The formel becoming acutely aware of a tongue stud pressing painfully against her palpitating pipework, even as the goat’s lips parted and she effortlessly leaned forward in order to begin fucking the mewling meal she had mounted down her waiting throat. A brisk twist to the left all it took to straighten the sigmoidal, as without a moment of hesitation the doe began to rape with an enthusiastic merriment. The goat’s hips naturally gyrating, as her humongous tool began to burrow into the hen’s bowels, regardless of the avian’s long-held opinion that it was an exit only. A foot of male flesh finding its way into the reeling rectum, as all the while the other patrons cheered her subjugation, leaving Mecka whimpering on the ground as little more than an unwillingly accommodating cock sleeve with a patter of passionate plaps of testicles against trembling tooshie. The name “Mudflap” repeating over and over again in the storm of sexual violence, as the humid warmth of a hungry mouth opened over the back of the hen’s head with a lethargic yawn. The looming inevitability of her digestive destiny hanging in the air, before all of a sudden, the crowd went quiet, as a sinister shadow silently stepped out of Mecka’s peripheral vision as though darkness itself had taken a form. The ominous stillness holding for a moment, before with an articulate cough, the menacing newcomer addressed the goat currently balls deep in the quivering griffoness, with a gritty if calm voice.

“Miss Bethany, you know that dealing with intruders is the jurisdiction of security, I don’t recognise your new friend from payroll, so I would hate to see you punished for breaking employee guidelines, then again if you feel like making a complaint, please be a dear and remove that piercing of yours, you know things like those always clog up my plumbing….”

........................

A foolish hen tries to enter the lair of the graffiti crime syndicate in an attempt to save some lost souls from their sins. Unfortunately, her faith fails, and she finds herself on the receiving end of a rather horny, and hungry herm goat...

A story done for Gizmo as part of my patreon. For this month, he wanted a lemon to go with a piece he got from Somber, featuring their new Griffhen oc Mecka Petrov. Hopefully they enjoy this first outing :)

If you would like to support me and vote in upcoming polls check out my patreon at: https://www.patreon.com/doomfister

Also if you're feeling brave, check out Crazy Water's Discord, if you dare, it's where I tend to lurk ;) :

https://discord.gg/cVeAghu

Please login to post a comment.

No comments yet, make a comment please