Just so I don't stay too long without posting anything, here is the first part of the new clop chapter. I'm working on the others and they should be up soon, but I know better than trying to make promises and deadlines with how crazy my schedule is.

Standard rules apply. There is a lot of worldbuilding, but if you're not into the horny part of things, you can skip this chapter (all of its parts) and anything too important will be alluded later anyway.

Trigger warnings: this chapter has brief, but explicit descriptions of sex, what you could consider drug use/mind control and inordinate amounts of megalomania.

“Come on, Godwin.” Gilda pulled his paw, walking briskly and sending a teasing grin back at him. Surely, he could smell the horny griffoness aroma in her, but she didn’t care. Not in that place. “You’re not gonna chicken out now that you got five new friends, are you? You said you wanted to help Lady Geena and we’re all supposed to go see her.”

“No! I said I wanted to hear what she needed from me! I’m just worried about how excited you are about the whole thing!” He grimaced, hopping on three paws, doing his best to follow her and not lose his balance.

“I am a Loremaster of The Harpy too!” Gilda clamored, stopping for a second and letting go of his paw to touch her fluffy white chest. “And I am also an important champion of hers. After we talk to Lady Geena, I’ll make sure you guys enjoy everything as she planned. Come on, the sooner we deal with it, the sooner we can get to the juicy parts.”

Godwin stopped next to her and so did the five young griffon ladies with them. All of them showed excited smiles, peppy trots and hops, surrounding Godwin. Their mothers had entrusted their care to Gilda, since they had more important things to do in the other hall. Especially after Gilda told them she would take the ‘kids’ to see Lady Geena. They trusted the Loremaster implicitly, so that was probably fine. Gevorg and Grunhilda followed them too, and Grunhilda hopped around as excited as the others, next to the captain’s contained enthusiasm.

The noises of merry, rowdy griffons had lessened, mostly replaced by naughty giggles, laughs, and a few moans. Fair enough for Gilda, as she guided Godwin and the others past the canopy beds and towards the end of the hall. She started seeing some of the older griffonesses that stayed behind, quite a few wearing the capes of the loremasters, hounding the stragglers.

A crashing noise of breaking glass came from deeper into the building, followed by laughter. Curiosity tugging at Gilda’s hurriedness, she led them steps and an altar before the giant statue of the Harpy. It looked old. Not at all like the ones she had been seeing. It dominated the alcove with a stone altar under a black and white sheet. Gilda imagined they used to perform rituals in that place long ago. Perhaps when it was snowing too hard, or too cold.

Speaking of the Harpy, it wouldn’t surprise Gilda if she showed up just to poke fun at her. But She didn’t. She was probably busy banging Lord Gilad. Or doing that Wild Hunt thing Lady Geena had mentioned. Because if there was one thing Gilda had learned was that the Harpy not only endorsed privileges for her favorite griffons, but she expected to be given as many as they could afford. Hence the epic desert city with an artificial mountain for her to live in. Gilda couldn’t even judge; she’d probably demand the same.

Gilda ushered the other griffons through the door and into a small, snug anteroom. The dim lighting made it quite creepy, with alcoves dug into the walls and hiding several statues of griffons. Sitting there and looking grim. On each side of the room, the wall had a simple door and a set of double doors led into the next hall, where the rest of the meeting would be happening. Or, as Gevorg had called it, ‘casual sex night’. The place where the parents and older siblings would entertain themselves. Those not busy teaching the youth, at least.

Gilda raised an eyebrow at how that would have made her skin crawl with creepiness only a couple of weeks ago.

The laughing and giggling coming from the hall in the back and the slightly ajar doors piqued Gilda’s curiosity. She just couldn’t resist a small and harmless peek through the crack, and she saw something nice. It was another hall, but it had more luxury than the other, with more windows, but they held mosaics of different griffons. The pyres provided a light and colorful collection of glass lit up nicely, showing more important griffons Gilda didn’t know. A candelabra of iron rings and torches provided light, and the ceiling had gypsum finish painted over to show gray storm clouds. The restoration had painted the walls with white and filled the room with sofas, chaise-lounges, and round beds… A good deal of comfortable furniture for relaxing or doing naughty things.

A cross-shaped table had copious amounts of food and beverages, unsurprisingly. A small band of griffons played the wind-wailing songs the northerners liked, while others wore tall feathery headdresses and danced on a stage to the side of the room to the griffons around the hall. Lots of griffons. Both northerners and southerners talked and laughed. Plenty of lewd staring and flirting by the table, as well as a lot of swirly dancing too. A couple had sex on a chaise out of the way. Gilda was pretty sure the charcoal black female was the blacksmith she met with her brother when the caravan arrived at Frozenlake. She laid on her back in a giggling fit while her partner, a thin gray dude, leaned on top of her, and they kissed and hugged.

Another couple, on the other side of the room, shared one of the many beds. A sensuous and mature, strong, brick-red female was riding her blue partner and giggling as much as she was bouncing on his lap. By the wall, one lucky handsome and slightly older gray dude stood on his hindlegs against the wall while a white queen with yellow-tipped feathers leaned her weight against him and insistently kissed him while a younger version of herself sat before him and gave a similar treatment to his meat.

“The northerners sure like their meat…” Gilda chuckled at her own stupid joke and closed the door when the six younger griffons and one Grunhilda approached curiously. She held her cheerful grin, though. “Come on. Lady Geena asked that we meet in the room to the right.”

Its closed door let the light of torches reach beneath, and after a quick trot, Gilda tested the door. She found it unlatched and pulled it open effortlessly, although slowly. She didn’t know what was happening on the other side. But it turned out it was just Geena there, simply waiting for them. Disappointed, as she expected Lady Geena to be engaged in some lewdness, Gilda pulled the door open.

It was a small, square living room. Nothing special about it piqued Gilda’s curiosity. Plain wooden floor and ceiling with stone and plaster walls. Sconces shaped like griffon paws held smokeless torches which provided a relaxing dim light. Completely unremarkable, if not for the tight work on the precise arrangement on the wood and stonework. Jarringly, the room lacked any decoration, after all the prior luxury. Gilda did not know what its purpose if fulfilled, much less if such was its original purpose, but it ended with a white curtain hiding a passageway into another room. It was utterly silent, though.

Only Lady Geena clicked her talons on the wood frame of the sofa she laid on, and the crackling of the flames reached Gilda. Geena stopped though, startling when the door opened and flaring her little ear-like crests. She opened a radiant smile when she saw Gilda and the others.

Missing her cape and alone, Geena hopped off the sofa with a wide smile to greet them. Her face changed for a confused frown after a second. “Wait. Who are these beautiful queens?”

“Well, they are Godwin’s suitors.” Gilda hid her grin with a paw and tried to keep her voice formal. “All five of them.”

Geena stared at Godwin. At the five griffonesses. And then she frowned before she let out a soft ‘huh’. “Alright, I suppose that makes sense. I hear Godwin is rather famous among the griffonesses. Oh, did Georgia refuse to come?”

Gilda shook her head. “Yeah, sorry. She’s with her date now and was not happy about all the creepiness and mystery.”

“I see… Shame. I’m sure the mystery was part of the intended effect.” Geena sat on the floor and joined her forepaws, crossing her fingers and smiling awkwardly at Godwin. “I’m afraid that ‘creepy’ could be a good word in this context. I must ask a favor of you, Godwin. It is awkward and most young males would deny this request even before they fully understood what is at stake with such a request. It can be such a taboo among the southerner males.”

“Geez, just say it already!” Gilda rolled her eyes at all the beating around the bush. “Just tell him what you want! You’re making it worse. It’s obvious it’s some kinky, horny shit. Well, he’s here, willing to listen, so just say it!”

“We want to harvest your semen.” Geena coughed and her eyes turned away while her ear-like crests flattened. She kept making gestures with her paws that meant nothing other than she was nervous. “Ah. Well, not exactly… But it’s not as straightforward as it seems. And it kinda revolves around sex… Uh… Obviously, but then not really. It’s complicated.”

Considering Geena was one of those ‘legendary tier’ Loremasters, something was up. Such a far cry from the stately, composed Lady Geena she had met upon arriving. But Gilda supposed it was up to Godwin to decide whatever needed to be decided. Gilda made a note to not interfere unless she must.

“Is this for some creepy breeding project?” Godwin frowned at the loremaster, although he was not angry or upset. Merely curious, and probably frustrated for the same reason Gilda was. Funny enough, his harem of five young griffonesses collectively gave Geena an accusatory glare. Gilda remained neutral, only hoping inside that Godwin would accept. Just so she could lean into Geena and get hippogriff prisoners under her care! If Gilda put them on her caravan, she could guarantee excellent treatment and dignity for them. But she needed an ace to get Geena to agree without drawing attention. Attention from Mother Harpy, for example.

“Oh, no!” Geena frantically waved her paws at Godwin’s question. “No! Nothing like that. Mother Harpy forbids artificial insemination. This is for… Certain bodily fluids can be used in potion-making, particularly those relating to the ability to generate new life. You understand. Almost all the female parts of the process happen inside her body, but males provide something far easier to harvest. And you are such a special male, of outstanding pedigree and in a unique situation. You are a virgin, you see.”

Gilda watched with no reaction. What were the odds that was one reason the Loremasters did everything in their power to avoid the young noble-born toms and queens from having sex before the meeting?

“So?” Godwin shrugged. “Do you want me to, uh, produce it for you?”

“Yes. But extraction is not that simple. We need a bit more… And uh… The best way to get what we need is… Well… Massaging your prostate. And for that… Well… We use a special tool that someone can wear… And.”

“No.” He growled grimly, completely changing from curiosity to annoyance.

“Oh… I understand.” Geena’s eyes shifted again to the side. There was something wrong. Very wrong in that whole thing. Geena was not just after something rare and difficult to get. Assuming Godwin was special, and it had to be done in that moment. Maybe it had something to do with virginity, or some nonsense like that. Maybe there was some magical tomfoolery involved, after all. But Geena was trying to guide Godwin, and she didn’t use all her arsenal as a Loremaster. She should not be struggling like that. She was too nervous to think straight.

With those thoughts inside Gilda’s head, Geena raised a finger. “Godwin, please, just consider that we really need it and that. For the northerner toms, such a request is not offensive or disturbing at all.”

“Who’s ‘we’?” Gilda glared at the larger, all-white griffoness before Godwin could turn and leave. Which he almost did. Only Gilda pressing Lady Geena stopped him.

“Hum… I mean us. The Loremasters. But uh… A really powerful and… Rich griffoness wants the honors of assisting Godwin in producing the materials for us.” Geena’s smile was not only desperate. She was on the brink of panic as Godwin was ready to leave.

“So, some rich griffon lady wants to buttfuck me…” Godwin summed it up. Gilda grimaced. It was probably some griffoness that paid for stuff in Frozenlake, and that was likely why Geena was so nervous. She probably couldn’t afford to disappoint. Godwin twisted his beak with a scowl. “I knew it. I always knew something weird was going to happen in this place. Geez. You northerners are a bunch of weird freaks!”

“Well, no! It’s not like that. We really want your seed. And your masculine fluids. Just that… It’s magic. It can’t be just… Normal ejaculate. It’s all part of a ritual… And… Well… She’s kinky… And the ritual needs to be a virgin tom and you are perfect because of your parentage and… Well… Your cuteness.”

“Please?” Geena smiled again and held her paws together. “Pretty please? We already lost Georgia…”

“No! Heck no! First, I’m not ‘cute’!” Godwin growled at her. “And I don’t care if some creepy old griffon lady thinks I’m cute, or whatever. This whole thing sounds like an excuse for some old cougar to get off. Bye!”

He turned and started towards the door, but Gilda put herself in front of him with a squawk. She covered themselves with a wing, after a quick glance at the others, and used hushed tones. He glared at her with a fierce scowl, though. “Don’t even start!”

“Godwin, listen!” Gilda urged in a desperate, hushed tone. “She’s asking for a favor. I can use this to save lives.”

“What? What do you mean? How?” This expression turned right around from angry scowl to wide eyes of understanding. Gilda knew he was a good, smart boy. “Oh, shit! The hippogriffs!”

“I know I shouldn’t ask, but it’s just a quick romp. You might even enjoy it.”

“Excuse me?” Godwin glared at her, but at least he kept the hushed tone. “You mean you’re going to enjoy watching? It’s probably one of those weirdos. Loremasters. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was Madam Gelinda!”

“No! Sorry! I just mean… Come on… If I can talk you into it, then I can lever a favor with Geena and get those hippogriffs somewhere safe! Georgia can safely take care of them once they’re with the caravan and away from the city.” Gilda frowned a little. “It could be much worse! It could be some old dude!”

“Would you ask this of Georgia? Of Grunhilda?” He still glared at her.

“Actually, I would, you little jerk! Georgia might not like it, but she would do it to help the hippogriffs. And Grunhilda would just because I’d be asking. I might even do it myself…” Although considering Gilda’s door swung both ways, saying that may not have helped much. “But it’s not us the crone wants. It’s you.”

He closed his eyes and groaned. A frustrated groan, scowling and massaging his brow with his paw. He groaned again and stomped a forepaw at the wooden floor. Finally, he looked up at the ceiling and let out a sigh of resignation. “Fine! But I swear… You owe me for this!”

“Hey, I’ll help you with your cute ladies!” Gilda grinned weakly at him, but she immediately frowned. “Sorry. I mean, I do. I owe you for this one.”

Godwin sighed before Gilda put down her wing and he groaned with an unfriendly glare at Lady Geena, pushing Gilda’s wing away. “Fine. But only because Gilda is asking! Because it’s important.”

Thankfully, his frustration didn’t cause him to mention the hippogriffs, but he gave Gilda a final scorching glare. “Because I owe it to her for rescuing me and my sisters from Wayfarer’s Rest. It’s not because of you or whoever your freak friend is.”

“Ah, wait.” One of his suitors took a couple of steps from the others with a frown on her cute youthful face. A typical Nartani, the northerner griffons, all white and built like a mountain of muscles with blue, confused eyes, walking around and facing Godwin with a distressed frown. “Are you sure? I mean, this looks kinda… Uh… Being okay with this sort of thing feels kind of… Effeminate. I hadn’t thought you were like that.”

“Whoa!” Gilda pushed her chest and forced her to sit on the floor with a gasp. She wanted to tell her to just shut up, stupid git, but Gilda reigned in her anger. “Hey, that is not cool. Come on. It’s obviously not like that. And if it was…”

“Geez. Imagine if I was effeminate. Or if I was gay, which is what you’re thinking.” Godwin stood up for himself regardless of Gilda and sat on the floor, too. “I guess I’m cute, right? Well, I’m not, but you think whatever you want. I’m doing this because Lady Geena needs help, and because Lady Gilda is asking. If that is a problem for you, then all I can say is that I don’t care what you think. You don’t understand it, anyway.”

Eyes widened at his words, the white young queen huffed before she turned and stormed her way out of the room, whipping her tail in his direction. Unfortunately, another of Godwin’s would be suitors gave him a distressed stare and let her wings sag. The watermelon-y one took a step back before she spoke. “I thought you were… Hum… You reminded me of Lord Gilad, Godwin. I wanted to take this further. But… Uh… Bye.”

Gilda watched the second one leave in a hurry. Just because she didn’t know the queen, it didn’t mean Godwin didn’t. She looked from her disappearing butt past the door to his expressionless, unamused stare. The others stayed, fortunately. The pudgy, dark sand colored griffoness, the white pearly one with the rosy-tint, and the white and black lanky one with the green eyes. Their eyes were restless, and Pearly wanted to say something. She kept fidgeting with her fingers, but never actually let the words out.

Geena coughed and talked to Godwin with a sad frown. “I am sorry… Not only did they judge you unfairly, but I suppose that not all griffons under my care are open-minded. If not horribly bigoted.”

No shit. Gilda wondered if the two also hated hippogriffs, but kept her beak shut. Fortunately, neither Gevorg or Grunhilda said anything.

“Yeah. Don’t worry, I’m sure Grunhilda doesn’t mind her aunt peddling whores for her friends. Let’s just get this done, please.” Godwin gave Geena an unfriendly stare before he extended it to Gilda. Grunhilda just looked away when Gilda looked at her.

“Please, follow me.” Geena smiled a hurt little smile but walked a heck of a lot more confidently than a couple of seconds ago. She started on her way to the white curtains in the deep wall of the room and the others followed.

Gilda walked next to Godwin, catching up to him when he started after Geena. The others followed in silence. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin it for you.”

“It’s not ruined.” He glared, talking in a low voice. “Just weird. And I hope this works and that the others don’t bail too, because I’ll blame you!”

“Fine, fine! You’re crossing into the dramatic. Come on.” Gilda rolled her eyes, walking a step behind to his side, following Lady Geena through the curtains. Her eyes lowered, though, and she let out a sigh.

Hopefully that whole shindig would be worth it in the end. Although wouldn’t it be a better idea to leave his new friends out of it? Or maybe Gilda was just wrong. Their mothers left them with Gilda, and they were supposed to expose themselves and experiment through the night. That included Godwin, right?

Godwin’s wing smacked Gilda in her face. Yanked out of her thoughts, she cried a sharp ‘ow’. “Godwin, what are you…”

She pulled down his wing out of her way. Her beak hung open. The stone walls and the wooden ceiling remained the same, but a white bear rug dominated the floor. The same torches on the walls provided a cozy light. A double layered, milky, glass on the window kept the cold out and warmth in, shining with the light of the pyres outside.

A table against the left wall held food and beverages, but breathing in brought only the elusive smell that made bellies flutter and eyes widen. The intangible sweetness of horny griffons and sex in the making. Cute, handsome, attractive, charming, alluring and several other lewder adjectives described a small army of young toms and queens occupying the room. Every single one of them nearing physical perfection, like little, almost perfect reflections of Mother Harpy. Literally, even down to their colors and facial structure.

Gilda shook her head at the sight and took a step back. Looking again, hoping the unsettling sight would have vanished. But it didn’t. Different shades of white and black, ranging into the metallic silver and even some yellow, making them seem made of electrum. The ‘holy metal’. Every one of them was a variation of The Harpy’s color pattern. Striped wings, tiger-striped hindlegs, and copies of her crown of feathers behind their heads too. Like little harpies in an entire array of different shades littering the room and spilling sex goo everywhere.

Against a wall, a couple of slim and tall, black and white queens kissed. Paws went everywhere in the middle of their anxiously grinding bodies, touching open beaks with their tongues showing. A couple at the feet of the bed engaged in oral sex with the elegant griffoness laying on her back. Her colors were like a washed-out version of The Harpy herself. Her gray crown of feathers ruffled like she was so happy, and she cried a whooping wail, holding her partner’s head between her striped thighs.

Another couple next to them behaved similarly shamelessly. A cute, almost all-white queen presented herself, propped onto the white fluffy fur covering the bed. Her partner, a similarly white griffon showing subtle gold-silver feathers, humped her with complete disregard for anything else happening in the room, stiff wings aiming upward. Too many of them did naughty things in the dark, with wet slaps and glistening fur. Soft giggling and kisses surrounded Gilda.

One of them, alone, shambled closer to Gilda. A young thing, about Georgia’s age, but Gilda wasn’t sure if they were a male or female from their facial structure in the dark. Only that they were white with a shade of yellow imitating the electrum. They tried holding Gilda’s shoulder, and their beak came too close for comfort. Their gray eyes seemed fogged with a red mist swirling before them.

Taken by a blind panic, Gilda shoved them to the floor like a sack of potatoes. She immediately felt bad seeing it was a young male on his back, giving her a confused stare from the floor. Completely exposed, but it didn’t last long, as a female approached. Her black marks were more yellow than black, with the color of electrum, but deeper than his. She giggled at Gilda, straddling herself over the male’s chest and smothered him under her groin. One of her paws supported her weight on his belly before she started fondling the male’s testicles.

Her soft electrum feathers behind her head stood with excitement. Her eyes lingered on Gilda, the same stormy gray of the Allmother but also tinted with red. Then, the young queen unceremoniously leaned down over the tom and made his penis disappear into her beak.

Gilda distanced herself a couple of steps from them, pushing Gevorg and Grunhilda with her. Wincing, despite not being able to tear her eyes from the tom’s almost golden talons pricking her rump and his beak shoved under her tail. Something about them, other than looking too much like Mother Harpy, made Gilda’s skin crawl from her bang of feathers to the tip of her tail. What exactly eluded her, but her magical senses told her of something wrong with those griffons.

The couple completely ignored Gilda or her companions afterward, too busy with each other and filling Gilda’s ears with sounds of licking.

“What the fuck?” Godwin turned to Geena, despite Gilda protectively casting a wing over his back and his three friends hiding behind them. Gevorg and Grunhilda remained close to Gilda, gawking at the scene, speechless. All of them showing fluffed up backs, distressed winces, and darting eyes. The loremaster, Lady Geena, responded with only a nervous, grinning grimace as her eyes shot to the bed.

A standard northerner bed. Large so that it could support a huge fur blanket, which was luxurious white rabbit skin. Enough rabbits, their meat must be half the meals in the hall. A cracking whip drowned all the lewd sounds and a griffon lady shrieked. Black but shiny and delicate iron chains held her wings so tightly her feathers bent. A hood, like the ones used to cover the eyes of hunting birds, covered her eyes. It left out only her beak and her lores, nares flared open with frantic breathing. An exuberant, long, yellow feather decorated the thing with the same color as the griffoness. One of the most beautiful griffon bodies Gilda had ever seen, in such a compromising position. It forced her thighs tout and her butt tense, showing the firm muscles covered in a vibrant yellow. She had an exquisite henna painting of vines and flowers on her foreleg, all the way to her covered face, and it added to her uniqueness.

She cried with another smack of a whip. A bit fitted in place with a bridle kept her beak open and her tongue kept wiggling, unable to find a comfortable position. With spit dripping from her beak, she cried again when the many tips of a black flog smacked at her raised rump one more time. They had wrapped her forelegs to her chest and a metal rod kept her from bending her knees while it set her feet apart. She tried when the flog struck at her cheek another time, but simply couldn’t. Her tail remained tight against her rump and under her belly, but it helped little. Her tormentor whipped her again with a twisted, perverted grin on his black beak and his pink wang poking between his tiger-striped thighs, dripping like he can’t wait to stick it inside of her. One paw with black talons squeezed her cheek, and the other swung the flog on her thigh. Her body quaked with another yelp around the bit.

Right next, a snowy queen with a barely visible shade of gray rode a male, leaning on top of him and resting her white beak on his fluffy chest while another male mounted and pounded her under her tail like there was no tomorrow. That was one of those things Gilda never really got into. Not with her schooltime tomfriend, much less with Dash. Not judging was one thing, but actually doing the ‘butt stuff’ crossed a line for her. That griffoness sure seemed to like it, though.

Both males were black and white and like one another. All of those weird griffons looked too much like one another. On the other side of the bed, a full white male sat between the hindlegs of another full-white female, holding her waist and pumping her full of dick. Gilda could see her rosy belly with small lady-like nipples shaking every time he pounded at her. And back against the wall, like they were sticking out of a plethora of griffons having sex, a gray and white female cowpony-rode a deep black male. He held one of her wings and licked at her neck like fatty grease on a piece of meat. Another tom, in shades of gray and silver, laid on his belly, bobbing his head up and down a black tom’s lap. The latter rested his head against the wall, and an alluring female, hanging the level above kissed him.

Gilda had to admit it was hot as fuck when she saw dudes doing it to one another, though. If only she wasn’t about to freak out at the rest of the scenery.

Behind the bed, the wall moved. It wasn’t a wall. Or rather, it was, but a wall of griffons, all looking almost the same, with Mother Harpy’s color pattern of shades of whites and blacks, grays, silvers, and gold. Wriggling and moving like a living, convulsing wall of griffons holding on to each other. A second level bed behind had more of them, as did a third above, like a wall of similar griffons meshing in the dark, into a single writhing lifeform. Moans, giggles, anxious gasps, and the eventual squeals punctuated the near constant wet noises of sex making.

“Gervina is learning not to give the key to my private tower at Griffinsky Mansion to the guests…” The Harpy’s voice came to Gilda and for a second, she thought it was only amid her thoughts. Only when she spoke again, Gilda noticed the great griffoness next to the spectacle on the bed. “I brought her as a gift.”

The griffons with Gilda looked at the Harpy and she smiled when they gawked at her. Laying on her side, with her head held proud and her crown of black feathers pompously flared. The black tuft at the tip of her tail kept flicking, and a collection of many objects Gilda defined as ‘toys’ littered the bed, surrounding her. Not only made of rare metals, gems, and quality leather, but almost lifelike. On top of it, the great griffoness herself laid on a bed of silver-golden coins. The northerner Eagles, made of electrum.

Just being there was not enough for her. Oh, no. A mountain of electrum Eagle coins with her face on them where she laid was a side note. Being surrounded by a living diorama of griffon debauchery was still not enough for the Allmother, either. She covered herself with silver and gold. Metal meshes covered her paws and a see-through veil under her eyes let see only a shadow of her jet beak. Bracelets filled with vibrant stones jingled on her forepaws and a crown of black spikes complemented her natural crown of feathers. Rings shone on her tail and her black talons showed ridiculously intricate silver patterns painted on them.

And yet, nothing in that room unsettled more or shone brighter than the smile she let show when her eyes landed on Godwin.

The tom and his three remaining friends bowed, as did Geena, Gevorg and Grunhilda, but Gilda didn’t. Not out of defiance. She had completely missed the timing, so used she was to the great griffoness appearing only inside her head. The movement behind her kept distracting her, and Gilda couldn’t even tell if that was cruel or kinky! Should she address her as Mother Harpy? As Lady Gwendolen? She was supposed to be a secret, and Gilda knew most in that room wouldn’t know the truth of her identity. Part of her wanted to slink back out of that room, but the smells sequestered her thoughts and The Harpy’s stormy eyes held her pinned in place.

Okay. You know what? Gilda forgave Geena. She would be an anxious pile of nerves in her place, too.

“I see that unfortunately, the sister has chosen not to come.” Her commanding voice, so full of presence, showed more vexation than disappointment. Lady Geena, next to Gilda, almost doubled over like the Harpy had punched her in the gut. All while Mother Harpy’s large and talon-crowned paw stroked the back of the white ‘mini-her’ doing the squealing white lady laying on the bed.

“I’m sorry, Lady Gwendolen. Georgia is…” Geena started, but the other shushed her, barely moving a muscle.

“You had one job, Geena.” Perhaps the most chilling part of her response was how calm and collected she was, and in the middle of all that. “Georgia is rebellious. It is the southerner influence. She spent almost all her life away. You are lucky Godwin has given you a chance. No matter. I can deal with an unruly kitten. We have more important matters to mind now.”

Following that, all the glistening metal rustled when she moved with a warm smile behind her veil, putting forward her black paw. Silver rings gleamed on her fingers and sparkling meshes of metal rattled, hanging from her. The delicate silver paintings on her talons intensified the absolute black of her steel-like talons as she offered her paw to Godwin.

He winced, and the three griffon ladies that had come with them looked at him. Then they looked at Lady Gwendolen, and then at Gilda, and back at Godwin. Finally, back at Gilda, as if they expected her to do something.

One of the weird griffon ladies… Was she a bit too tall? Was that it that made her so uncanny? She sauntered close to Godwin and ignored the murderous glare she got from pearly and the other two. More like the hostility delighted her, and she kept teasing them. A very white, small version of the Harpy, young and sassy, crossing her feet as she walked. Her beak kept a raunchy smile and her tail wrapped around Godwin’s neck, showing herself to him in all the sordid details, turning around herself before him.

Before Gilda or Godwin could react, the Harpy screeched at her. It chilled Gilda’s blood, not because of all the power that griffoness had at the tip of her talons, but with how primal, animalistically wild it was. All the anger and jealousy she put into it; in the way she slammed her paw on the bed and sent coins flying, how she flared her giant wings and showed the striped, black-and-white pattern. The young thing, scared out of her mind, skipped from Godwin in a flurry of limbs and feathers everywhere. The others, at least the ones who weren’t too busy with naughty stuff, laughed. Gilda stepped closer to Godwin. Just in case.

“You are afeared, tom.” Gwendolen relaxed and accommodated her wings beside her body. “What is it you want which will help ease you into our meeting?”

No shit! Maybe not screeching next to him would help? Maybe he’d prefer less of an ominous, larger-than-life partner? How about losing the scenery of horny griffons? Perhaps not fucking his bum? Gilda let out a soft snicker. And she almost slapped herself over her thoughts. Fortunately, she kept from giggling. Poor Godwin attracted the attention of the best and worst griffoness possible.

“Perhaps, a change in scenery?” The Harpy grinned. A vicious grin showing from behind her tinkling veil. “I was going to gift you Gervina, but you already have a delightful companionship.”

The Harpy climbed down from the bed. Tinkling coins dropped from it and metal pendants shone on her. She walked full of weightless grace and majestic pomp, with her wings on display. Crossing the room, she walked past the table with all the food and beverages. Two of the creepy griffons scampered away at her approach near the window. Where Gilda hadn’t seen before was a small table taken by ceramic bowls. It was too far for Gilda to see what they contained, but The Harpy collected a pawful of something and sprinkled it into a silver bowl. Next, she opened a small vial with a white thick liquid and drizzled it as she talked.

“Such a fear is a construct of modern griffons. When I first made your kind, sex was meant for reproduction, and pleasure was their driving force. They were not mentally capable of anticipating that from such acts, cubs would be born. But even the wild minds of pre-sapient griffons understood seeking partners for sharing in that pleasure. It felt more rewarding than solitary stimulation and they did it for no other reason than it made them feel happy.”

She had a way of speaking that just shut griffons up and made them listen. It bordered on the comforting, despite how awkward it made Gilda feel. She had grown cozy with that feeling, and she wondered if it was some sort of spell, or weird magic or psychological effect the Harpy’s voice had over their minds. In the middle of all that festival of lewdness, Gilda barely had the spare capacity to process the fact she had just revealed herself as the Harpy to all of them. She’d probably have to talk to the girls and their mothers later.

What a mess. Just because she was horny… Gilda sighed, beginning to understand Gia’s near constant tiredness.

“Social species that they were, they grew fond of the proximity the act brewed, because of the intimacy it required. The Stormborn believed cubs were born spontaneously when griffons lived in proximity. In simple terms, the brain’s survival and reward loops taught them that sex rewarded them with pleasure and made them grow even closer. It molded their behavior as they sought more of it.”

She spoke as she methodically dropped another measure of what looked like powder into the silver bowl, and then a pawful of petals. “It was an unintentional side-effect of how I made them, but far from suppressing it, I allowed My Children to bask and indulge in it.”

She stirred and pressed the components with a silver pestle, filling the room with a rhythmic ringing of clear metal. “As their intellects developed, they processed finer social interactions. Games of dominance and servitude which became the social structure of present griffons flourished and permeated their primitive society. Sex, as all facets of their lives, intertwined with their new mental capabilities and it became a tool of dominance, subservience and bonding.”

“One should not assume that it is a bad thing, as both are as normal to the life of a griffon as breathing. It was around that time the Stormborn stopped pestering me with all their woes and started codifying laws. They quickly decided that rape was not acceptable, and that refined their understanding of this game of dominance. It became an intricate process. Most would involve themselves solely for the pleasure that borne out of it.”

Her talons hovered over the mixed powders and little bolts of lightning showered from them with a sharp spectacle of cracking and flashes in the dark. “Gender seldom became a factor. Nobody would mind what a female did to another, or to a male because outside of making little cubs, what they cared about was the pleasure it gave them.”

“It survived until the end of the empire and, ironically, Celestia unwillingly destroyed that when she gave Grover rule over My Children. He feared many ideals of the Empire would bring a resurgence of the Cult of The Harpy and sought to suppress them. Dominance and passionate surrender ought to be restrained, and some griffons were easy targets. Crushing some liberties was easy for the sake of the new kingdom. I do not blame him for that… He was fighting an enemy almost impossible to destroy with the remaining Nartani out of his reach and Celestia still oblivious to the fact Emperor Grigor’s goddess truly existed. It has, however, given rise to ideas that some sexual practices are dangerous. Unfitting for the civilized griffon who denounced the savagery of the Cult of The Harpy.”

“Perhaps even more ironically, the ponies are fond of playing games of dominance in between four walls. And that is the difference. They are ashamed of their selfish proclivities while griffons thrive on them.” She frowned, holding the silver bowl of sparkling, popping red powder in front of the group. “But because Princess Cadance says it is alright, ponies have no further woes about it. I find it unfair that griffons trouble themselves so, and I would appreciate it if they stopped.”

Her paw hovered over the bowl, swirling in the air above it. Stirring whatever was in there and causing it to foam in pink and pop inside the bowl. “In the wake of the destruction of Grigor’s Empire, griffons have discriminated against their kin who sought such sexual gratification from the same gender, or that engaged in activities they deemed inappropriate. It is one reason they hated the Swordmaidens so much. Which brings me to the question which hangs in the air. Why is a young tom feeling inappropriate over a sexual encounter with an attractive female if not because of the ingrained bigotry of his peers which failed to understand that if I did not want males to experience pleasure from anal intercourse, they would not.”

Gilda glared at her. “You had to deliver a self-important, presumptuous speech just because you wanted to peg a cute guy, didn’t you?”

“Again, with this ‘cute’ thing?” Godwin growled.

After Gilda earned a smile from Mother Harpy, the latter dipped her talons on the shifting, fuming red powder and blew it on Gilda’s face. It caused her to cough and shake her head, taking a step back before sitting on the floor. She squinted and blinked the thing out of her eyes, dropping to the floor and pawing at her eyes. She saw nothing through a red fog for a couple of seconds, but then colors returned brightly to her. Her ears picked even the most minute of sounds, like the padded feet walking on the white bear rug. The wet noises of griffons bumping uglies in the dark corners of the room or softly clicking beaks.

“Gilda, are you… Okay?” Gevorg winced at first, then he recoiled at the intense, wide-eyed gaze she aimed at him. Her mouth gaped at just at how handsome his feral northerner visage was. How built the muscles under his pelt were. But Gwendolen’s voice distracted Gilda.

“You should have been taught that magic permeates all in existence, Godwin. Guella’s education would not allow for such a failure. I am left with no choice but to assume you were remiss in your studies. You should be punished. Regardless, it follows that the secretions of organs involved with reproduction would be infused with the magic of Life. Such powerful magic is useful in potion-making and a vast catalog of rituals from necromancy to healing and the magical engineering of Life. In short, most of what you put out when you masturbate does not relate to biological information for a new life. It relates to keeping your seed alive and well and thus carries a heavy charge of the magic of Life. And that makes it valuable, you being of a prestigious heritage, mature, and untouched. Almost enough to put it for sale on par with a mountain mansion in the Stormy Eyrie. Back when it existed in the Realm of the Mortals.”

What the heck was this conversation? Gilda’s spinning head helped little, but the nonchalant, factual way Mother Harpy spoke made it all even weirder than that conversation had any right to be. She could only imagine what was going on inside Godwin’s head, but thoughts didn’t connect very well inside hers. Gilda’s chest thumped and her hindlegs felt weak. Gevorg’s oak smell set her nares on fire and set loose butterflies in her stomach. Her nether regions itched. Distracting and enticing, it made Gilda just listen and accept. It was easier than thinking about and trying to pick it all apart.

“There are different ways of harvesting the materials produced by the male reproductive organs, but your virginity is an opportunity that I would loathe to lose. However, sexual gratification is the province of that which I will harvest from you.” She stopped walking and smiled. “It is a happy mishap of biology that harvesting it in such a pleasurable way is possible, and I would consider it a disgraceful disrespect to do it in the absence of carnal release. However, I will respect your free-will, your right to self-determination I have given you myself. In fact, I will give you the choice to walk away from this room. Right now. No grievances, no regrets if you so choose.”

Godwin stared at Gilda, and she stared at him. Her expression turned out blank, as she missed the realization that she should have encouraged him to choose as he desired. If he wanted out, they could figure something else. But Gilda’s disconnected thoughts failed to provide her such an insight. Too late, her head cleared enough that she could think. Godwin had already turned to look at the Harpy and insecurity silenced any words Gilda might have uttered.

Holding the silver mortar, filled with a sparking and sizzling red substance with pink fumes, the Harpy smiled and made a wide, sweeping gesture. “I have ingratiated myself to you, and all of this is for you. My love has been called both a blessing and a curse. Which, it depends on you.”

“The final say, however, is still yours, tom.” She smiled; eyes full of glee. The eyes of a predator about to unleash the last leap on a cornered prey, and have it secured on her talons.

Godwin looked at Gilda again, and while she didn’t respond in any way, Gilda wondered if the Harpy knew he wouldn’t back down. Either way, Godwin turned back to the great griffoness, and he didn’t stare directly at Lady Gwendolen. He avoided staring at the remaining griffonesses from his initial group of five too. The few griffons and griffonesses of Lady Gwendolen’s court, not busy screwing each other’s brains out, watched him with amused smiles. When he finally looked at the great griffoness, Godwin blushed, and still avoided her eyes. “I’ll stay… And I’ll do whatever you wish, Lady Gwendolen. I just hope that I… Won’t disappoint.”

Her beaming grin could have lit the room like the sun while her eyes still bore into Godwin, and she offered him her paw again. He took it and let her guide him closer to her. Then Mother Harpy stood on her hindlegs. In all her prodigious size, exposing her nipples for all the horny males, and Gilda, to see. Wings wide open and with her best megalomaniacal laugher, she raised the silver mortar above her head. Her flight feathers lit with lightning bolts arrested in between them and, in an instant, released all the sequestered magical energy. Whatever was inside the silver mortar caught a bright red flame that filled the room with crimson. Bright shards flew everywhere within the explosion of red.

Wincing and shaking her head, Gilda reeled back and bumped into the other griffons around her. She heard Gevorg and Grunhilda yelp while Godwin’s friends cried. Several griffons screeched. The same magic that had filled the top of the hill earlier that night flashed like a lightning bolt burning through Gilda’s spine.

She felt dizzy. Gasped in surprise, but the air came into her nares thick with the red mist, overwhelming her sense of smell with a heavy and sweet spiciness. Her lungs filled with it, and she coughed. Several griffons around her coughed, screeching, and squealing in shocked cries.

The overwhelming power of every sensation at once subdued, and Gilda’s spine tingled all the way to her tail. She couldn’t feel her limbs for a moment. Gone limp, her legs abandoned her to the floor. Her shoulder hit a cold and hard smoothness more akin to stone than rugs or wood planks. When she opened her eyes, she regretted it. They burned and she could see nothing other than red. Not like a mist, but as though someone had changed her eyes for eyes which could only see a solid red.

“Gilda!” Gevorg’s voice reached her, and his paw patted her back. “Where are you? Can you hear me?”

She could. So loud it hurt her ears, but as his words throbbed inside her skull, their defining characteristic was the deep, male quality of his timbre. The red became a collection of undefined shapes. Other colors returned smoothly and then in a rush. The bedroom was gone. Gilda’s eyes presented her with a sight which defied her sanity and made her beak hang. The feathers on her crest flattened, and a chill ran up her spine.

The floor was a black-stricken and cold white marble. Her reflection showed Gilda her wide eyes and hanging beak. A wide hall stretched in all directions with a canopy roof held by mighty white pillars. Intricate designs covered them, but Gilda was too far to see. An open skylight let in heavy raindrops over a statue of The Harpy, so large it dwarfed the one Gilda had seen earlier. Made in a combination of black and white stone, she reared with her wings spread, showering under the rain which then pooled into a round pond in the center. It didn’t seem too deep as Gilda could see half a dozen of the weird griffons frolicking in the water, splashing and dancing in it. Happily, making a mess.

Rainfall and petrichor filled Gilda’s nares once the red daze cleared from her sense of smell, and a distant thunder ripped above. Gray, violent clouds closed the sky past the pillars holding the ceiling. The breeze, although fast, brought in the smells of a forest. In the distance, mighty gray and white mountains stood tall as though they held the clouds above. Extravagant mansions surrounded the valley, carved out of the mountain faces in every direction. The voices of singing griffons reached the open hall. They sang ancient hymns in ululating griffon voices, like the wind sang with them.

The room was not empty. Several confused griffons stood there. Some had thrown themselves to the floor and covered themselves with paws and wings. One nearby griffoness puffed the red mist from her nares, whining and hiding herself under her gray wings. Like Gilda, they recovered, though. Also, like her, they gawked in wonder at the great hall they suddenly found themselves in.

Extravagant furniture made of silvery yellow metal and black and white upholstery distinguished different spaces for groups of griffons to lounge at. Beds, sofas, laying pillows all spread around the hall, leaving plenty of space to reach the table with food and alcohol near the center occupied by the pond. A ground fire burned, and a couple of excited, tall and pale, gray and white griffons spun the spit roasting carcass of a caribou.

Gilda saw the charcoal blacksmith and her partner among the griffons in the room. Both awed, admiring the scenery. Gilda even recognized Frozenlake’s mayor amid the confused, but quickly recovering shocked griffons. Georgia was there, with Gertha and the artist tom. Gia too, who finally had good justification for her perpetually ‘tired of everything’ demeanor.

Before Gilda had entirely gathered her wits, griffons started cheering at the magic trick, and all the excitement started returning once they saw Lady Gwendolen. She stood on her hindlegs, with her wings open and forelimbs too, like she was a magician at the center of a show. If anything, Gilda knew the Harpy had done something. That much was obvious, but whenever Gilda tried to think about it, a red mist covered her eyes with lewd thoughts of all the things she could do to Gevorg right now. It was just easier to accept that she was where she was and have fun.

But that didn’t mean she didn’t worry about the others. After Gilda patted down her own body and the sword inside the scabbard on her back, she looked for the others. She found Gevorg helping one of Godwin’s friends stand back on her four legs. Grunhilda sat next to the other two, looking confused. Nobody seemed in distress or missing any pieces. Godwin and Lady Geena were nowhere to be seen, though.

Gilda shook her head and flailed her feathers. It seemed to help clear her thoughts. At least enough to remember she was angry at the Harpy. At least she was easy to locate with all the shiny metal and the celebrating creepy griffons next to her. Gilda started on her way, storming towards a gigantic bed, ready to slap the smugness out of her goddess. The bed was even larger than the previous one and the great griffoness, again, laid on her side, with her head raised.

Godwin was in front of her. Spooned against her belly and wearing a daring headdress of gold and bronze, as well as a delicate and loose collar of electrum coins in a curtain before his chest. He even wore bracelets on his four legs and an exquisite makeup in black and gold that highlighted his eyes and his young, but fierce, facial structure.

The sight gave Gilda pause both with how handsome he looked, and in the memories the sight brought back from the old times of the Empire. Mating griffons would dress like that for the festivities. Males and females wore jewelry, especially if they meant to make an impression. There was also Godwin’s comical ‘please help’ stare, while the Harpy had her huge, talon-crowned paw on him.

Gilda shook her head again, stopping for a second when the red mist threatened to tint her eyes crimson again. It lasted only a heartbeat, and she resumed on her way. Scowling like she was about to reprimand a cub. She ignored the cheering slut-griffons with creepy auras and climbed the seven steps to the edge of the bed covered in electrum coins and sex toys.

“My, that is one angry, grumpy griffoness.” The Harpy chuckled at Gilda’s smoldering glare. She teased Godwin, brushing her beak at his cheek.. “I think she is jealous, Godwin. Do you want him for yourself, Gilda? I will share if you too will be a naughty lovebird for me in exchange.”

“What is wrong with you?” Gilda sat on her haunches and opened her forelegs, letting her voice raise. Some griffons behind the bed gave her concerned stares and a few chuckles reached her.

“Whatever do you mean, Lady Gilda?” The other griffoness flashed her eyelashes.

“Can’t you just let griffons have fun and fuck in peace?!” Gilda yelled. “Why do you need all this, just because you’re horny?! Why aren’t you doing that Wild Hunt thing back at Griffindell?”

“Are you done?” The Harpy smiled like she talked to a cub throwing a tantrum.

“No!” Gilda screamed. “What is this place? Why do I feel like I shouldn’t be here? And why does nobody seem to care? And… And… What is the deal with these creeps?!”

The Harpy let go a long sigh and broke her aloof visage for a while. “Fine. It seems you cannot let go without an answer. I will agree. I wanted to commemorate a significant victory. Gwineth put Celestia’s consort to the sword and the mare herself is gone after breaking down and panicking. But her consort, the absolute dunce of an alicorn, was Discord’s friend, and that disturbed Gilad. The Wild Hunt will not be happening, and Gilad has distanced himself from me. Grigory and his friends are in Manehattan and I would rather not rouse the Night Made Flesh lest she will discover their hiding place with the wayward princess ponies. Our plans progress by leaps and bounds, often better than expected, but I have no one to celebrate with until Gilad recovers from his foolish slump!”

She was lonely. Gilda’s angry expression softened.

“You did something to us.” Gilda stammered through the words like they were a rocky road full of holes where her thoughts seemed to fall into and vanish. “Ugh… For feather’s sake. What was I saying?”

“You were appreciating my gift of libidinous celebration.” The Harpy solicitously assisted Gilda recall.

“Ah. Yeah.” Gilda frowned, but shrugged. Gilda was pretty sure that was not the case, but it was just easier to go with it when her head hurt. “That’s really cool.”

“Well, now that Lady Gilda of Griffonstone has given us her leave, the celebrations may continue. Let no griffon leave this hall unsatisfied.” The Harpy proclaimed with a smug grin behind her glistening facial covering, and griffons cheered around the hall.

“Yeah… Fine.” Gilda chuckled, trying to join since she couldn’t beat her. Thinking was too hard. “I’ll allow it.”

“Good.” The Harpy’s grin turned dangerous again, and Gilda’s smug smile crumbled as she remembered who she was talking to. “Because now you will dance for me and Godwin.”