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Zulie glanced around the corner of the stables again, holding her breath in her throat and her sizeable ears forward for any unexpected noise. All the kobold heard was the rustle of the wind in the trees beyond the farm's borders, the rumbling of her own stomach, and then the quiet, musical rumble-chirps of the beasts waiting within the stalls, some of them dozing off while others stood at attention towards the unexpected visitor.

She was no stranger to many of the animals here, after all, working in the tavern just next door. While finishing up her routine tasks for the night after indulging perhaps a little bit too much in the extra stipend often offered to her, though, something back within the stables had caught her eye – or, rather, her ear.

Now in the darkness Zulie reached back towards her pack, remembered that she had stripped down naked under what had certainly been her own idea, and stretched a little bit further for where she had dropped the flask to the hay-covered floorboards. A quick twist, a tilt of the head, a long, full swig… and the rich, grassy musk of livestock, the close, slightly mildewy touch of moist wood, the general awareness of everything around here, burnt away beneath the bright rush of the alcohol slamming into the back of her throat and pit of her belly. For a moment the kobold doubled over, hands on her knees, forcing herself to breathe through her nose and resist the urge to cough. Another rumble, a sway of her balance as though instead of a barn she stood within a small boat dancing along the surface of the sea…

“Come here. There's a bench over there. Why don't you, ah… bring that on over? You'll need it."

The same voice as the one that had pulled her over from the other side of the stalls. As the stables for the tavern, it was not unusual for the stables to hold the patrons' mounts as well; as Zulie felt herself tugged along towards the alluring suggestion she realized she recognized this scent that soon trickled into the air.

Hippogryph. Her ears now angled towards the rumbling scrape of the milking bench she pulled before her. Zulie had to arch her back to be able to lift the nearest legs off the ground, and the burn in her arms rivaled the heat that still sizzled in the back of her throat from the rest of the flask, now discarded by the window through which she had first entered.

The deck of the boat swayed again underneath her; she dropped the bench, pressed one hand to her belly and another to her mouth, and fought off the wave of dizziness, until once more she stood within the stables, fully naked, aroused, and very aware of the thrumming, pulsing heat of the beast just beside her.

The kobold turned and looked up at it, and it appraised her with the sharp eye of a dangerous predator. An eagle's beak and crest along the body of a horse, forelegs taking the shape of the pitted, leathery talons known to a bird of prey, their strength visible in the deep gashes and cuts within the floorboards – while further back the feathers melded smoothly into the sleek, glistening equine pelt, chocolate brown tinted darker in the shade of night.

Then its beak parted and it spoke to her, again in the same voice that had smoothly, easily guided her alcohol-addled mind up until this point: “You're not done yet. Come closer." It raised one of its forelegs, talons scratching quietly across the floorboards. “Right underneath here."

The height difference meant that Zulie could do so while needing to only barely bend her head to fit, and after finding her balance she did just this. For a moment she just stood there, though the world underneath her continued to slosh and sway. She reached up for balance, felt the warm, humid, leathery underside of the hippogryph's belly, dug her fingers in, and jerked away when it twitched in response; she lurched forward, belched again, tasted the sharp, cool sting of alcohol rising up and filtering out; and then when she inhaled again, all she could smell was the rich, grassy tang of horse, laced through with something sharper, greasier, almost pungent. She wiped at her mouth, closed her eyes, and sniffed forward, following that scent-

-and jumped when her nose pressed directly into the warm, slick folds of the beast's sheath, wrinkled folds of leathery skin folding back and forth over one another, gathered there within the semi-slack pouch of sorts where the sheath hung down from the lower belly. Zulie swallowed open-mouthed, able to taste the heat of the creature's musk as it trickled into her nostrils; the longer she remained here the more she felt her balance wobble away, until her chest had come forward but her head tilted back for the way her nose pressed into that dank, succulent meat.

“See?" the cool, soft voice continued from above her. “That's not so bad, is it? I can tell that you've got a certain need, and it's just your luck that I can help you out with that…"

She waved her arms out beside her, found one of the beast's hindlegs, and managed to press her other up and underneath one of its haunches, drawing a surprised twitch out of it. Dazed, still dizzy, the kobold held herself there, drew in another breath through flared nostrils, and briefly sank into the swirling, intoxicating scent of the majestic creature here above and around her, her own arousal already trickling between her thighs. Both hands came up and forward, cupping around the massive balls, rubbing and feeling and massaging; they drew in towards the base of the sheath, slid the supple skin forward, folded it over itself again and again so that the already wet wrinkles sucked in against the beaklike shape of her snout.

All things that she had thought about before, and had imagined and fantasized about from the safety of tavern rooms or while camping out between stops on the road, but had never really taken the steps to actually realize. It was the assistance of the alcohol that helped her with that; her eyes fluttered open and she glanced over towards where the flask lay among the hay, then caught sight of the bench again.

That's right, she thought. I was… gonna…

Then again her body moved of its own accord, her mind taking a backseat and watching from a distance. The kobold peeled herself away from the hippogryph's sheath, failing to notice the stirring, growing pressure from inside as the blunted head began to push itself free. She dragged the bench forward, walked around to the other side, propped herself up against the wall of the stall to find her balance while the creature sniffed and investigated her with its sharp beak and sharper eyes, a certain amusement glittering there.

“You were going to service me," it rumbled, and winked. Zulie thought about it, frowned, looked back towards the beast's hanging sack and sheath and the impressive, alluring shaft that continued to grow from within, and then back to its beak.

“What if – I don't…" Gods, it's hard to speak… “Don't wanna?"

The hippogryph chuckled under its breath. “But you do, don't you?"

Again she looked back. “Yeah, you're right_…"_ And with another full-body sway and wobble she once more ducked underneath the beast's body.

This time she knelt along the bench, having to lean to the side to fit, and now worked her hands along the beast's growing equine length. Back and forth over the sleek, slick skin, feeling the contours, the lines of veins, the little bulge of the ring halfway along; again and again she ran her thumb over the protruding urethra, smearing the dribbles and jets of clear, sticky pre across the sensitive skin, then held it forward and down so that she could more easily pump with both hands. Before long the feral's full length hung down in front of her, occasionally twitching up to try to smack against its belly, held at bay only by her two hands holding it down.

“Keep going, now…"

But not for long, though: the kobold smiled, licked her lips, and leaned back as she let it finally swing up, and gave a few more pumps along its length. Another thick glob of pre oozed free, but instead of letting it drip free Zulie leaned forward, let it spread across her lips, and then parted her mouth against the blunted head, smearing that warmth forward.

“There you go. That's more like it." Above her the hippogryph shifted, pawing at the floor of the stall with a hindleg. “Slowly, now, we don't want you to-"

_ _

“Oh, would you jus' – shut up?" the kobold tossed over her shoulder. She stroked the beast's length in against her lips, loving the heat, the sticky warmth, the slick wetness as it dribbled down her chin and similarly coated her tongue. “I've sucked a cock before."

“Have you, now."

“Mhmm." Still stroking, Zulie lifted up, swallowed again, then swung her legs out to the side – and from there lowered herself backwards to lie down on her back on the bench. She had to take another minute to wait for everything to stop spinning, and even then felt it all still sway around her. But when she could open her eyes again she saw the horse half of the hippogryph flex its vigor again in inviting, intoxicating splendor, luscious skin and flesh swelling out with the throb, veins lifting from underneath, shaft swinging up towards its belly. “One of these, too, y'know. So I'm p… practiced."

“We'll see about that."

Back down it swung, the hippogryph taking a small half-step forward so that its blunted head smacked wetly down along the edge of the bench just beside where Zulie's head rested. She felt the reverberation through the wood when it did so, and even before she turned to face it, the simmering heat of gathered musk trickled back across her bare skin. Again she wet her lips, mouth oddly dry despite how much she had been drinking, then scooted over, reached for the beast's shaft, missed, reached again, caught it this time… lifted it up, let it thump against her chin, opened her mouth, curled her tongue around the underside… and then felt her jaw pop as she tried to scoot forward around the half-swollen rim of the head.

The warmth filled her maw from there, hot and heavy and as thick as the meat that throbbed against her lips. Try as she might to breathe through her nose, the kobold just couldn't quite do it, and had to pause, swallow, and part her lips further to draw in a breath around the hippogryph's hard cock, the air swept to heated humidity from its presence there. Above her it twitched again, bucked, lifted up against her jaw; she closed her eyes, wrapped a hand around it again, gave another stroke-

-and then it thrust forward, pressing past all of her preparations and expectations. A powerful jerk lanced through her small body, lifting her chest up and pushing her head back down to the bench, and the equine shaft somehow pushed further down inside of her. Now she could feel it lifting out against the inside of her throat, her held forcibly held back like this, unable to move with the thick, dense length shoved all the way down into her; she looked wildly around, saw nothing but its full, hefty balls and its muscular legs trembling with anticipation, tried to move, and succeeded only in making the beast throb again.

The pulse ran through her and made her try to swallow around it, though quickly she found that she couldn't. Then the hippogryph began to pull back, a hot huff puffing out from its nostrils overhead, and it thrust forward again – and again – and again, each one a little quicker than the one before, a little less uncomfortable, a little… better. Before long Zulie managed to settled back down, eyes closed, throat as relaxed as she could make it around the feral's girth.

Still, though, every time it thrust forward, her entire body lurched – and each muscle squeezed and tightened. Again and again her legs came together and then sagged back down; one hand gripped the edge of the bench for dear life while the other made its way down between her thighs, rubbing at the slick, sweet heat that dripped there, arousal simmering stronger and stronger with each thrust. Still it pushed itself deeper inside of her, too, until she could feel those huge balls swing in against her nose, again refreshing the bright, sharp scent that filled her lungs from inside.

“There you go," the creature purred, halfway lowering its hind end down. Zulie just barely managed to swallow, then, and felt the thick heat drip down into her belly. “We'll keep you there for a while to get used to this, and then… then we can finish up. Hope you don't have any plans for the night, since you're gonna be here for a while."

Zulie squirmed, made a noise-

“No, no, don't bother." It drew back – the lump of the medial ring along the shaft squeezed out against her throat from inside – and then sank back in again. “Save your breath; you're gonna need it. Been a week since I've been able to breed, and I'm gonna keep you here until I'm good and done…"

Zuli shuddered again, a wave of pleasure pushing up through her body from between her legs. Her knees knocked together, her lips tightened, her throat squeezed around the equine shaft buried deep, and she managed another swallow and half-breath. A little dizzy, her world swimming, she closed her eyes again, relaxed…

Sounds good. Sounds great. Just… as long as I don't have to move from here… She shivered, squirmed, and straightened up again to let the hippogryph a little bit further in.

Yeah. I could get used to this. All night? Let's see how that goes…