Living the Fantasy
Griffon
By David Farr

	This story contains scenes unsuitable for the reading pleasure of
minors. Should such senses offend you, or if it is illegal for you to
read them, please stop now.
	Works by this author can be found at:
http://homepages.ihug.co.nz/~djfarr/

*****

	Life was drudgery for Carol Jones. Every day she spent nines hours a day
(minus breaks) sitting at a computer in a small cubical. Her fingers were
worn thin as she typed the words droned at her through the earphones by
the voices of bored executives. She had complained about the over work,
but the few responses had been less than helpful, something along the
line of "when the money becomes available."

	Of course, it seemed that her favourite pass time made her complaints
somewhat hypocritical. The moment she returned to her scruffy and lonely
apartment she changed from her business suit and dress into only her thin
night dress and robe, then plopped herself into the seat before her
computer and spent the rest of the night writing. But unlike work, she
enjoyed the flights of fantasy she wove in her evenings. Certainly they
were the only release she had for her adult urges. She hadn't had a
boyfriend in a long time, and that she blamed on her less than desirable
curves.

	The sickly light of the monitor was the only light in her apartment that
night as she switched off the kitchen light. She held in her hand a plate
with her dinner on it, a sandwich made from leftovers, as she walked
across the room to the desk. Her browser had loaded up it's default page,
not the horrible self-advertisement it had come set with, instead a image 
gallery she had found.

	Each of the images there were adult themed. Beyond that, they were of a
series of females, all sexy, and all creatures of myth and legend. Oh,
they weren't pure creatures, instead they were girls, no women,
definitely women, combined with the "monsters" and each, in some way,
showed their submission to some unknown person. All were nude, although
not explicitly so. While the subjects were sexy and unclothed, the artist
had not drawn in the genitals or nipples of the girls, leaving the
promise of hidden treasures while leaving the girl vulnerable to viewing.

	Out of habit, Carol moved the mouse pointer over to her favourite
picture, then stroked the hand along the curves of the figure. The
picture was called simply Griffon, and that was what it showed, the brown
fur and feathered form of a sexy cat-bird. She stood in an easy pose,
hawk-like clawed feet spread, but her right forward so she was slightly
on an angle. Large wings arced up from behind her shoulders, each feather
carefully drawn in detail. Her head, so noble, like that of an eagle, was
held up staring out of the picture, there was even a smile on her beak.
Carol knew though, that men would find the curves of her hip and waist,
and the large firm breasts that accented them, her most desirable feature.
There was almost nothing submissive about her, nothing that is, except
for the collar about her neck, and the leash attached to it. Even that was
held casually in a claw, apparently in mid-swing, as if to say: "yes, I'm
a slave, so what?"

	Carol click on the image, and another page loaded. The picture, larger
this time, topped the new page, and underneath a short bio on Griffon.

	"A freak among her kind, doomed to the human shape, despite her race's
hatred of man, she was never even named. Left to fend for herself,
shunned and distrusted by everyone, her loneliness, combined with an
unusually high sex-drive, left in a needy state, struck often by
uncontrollable lusts. She was trapped in one such state when The Master
came across her, and helped her to satisfy herself past any level she had
reached before. A promise of more such pleasure brought her interest and
her loyalty, and, because of her nameless state, he named her simply
Griffon."

	Carol grinned as she read, knowing it was the seed of her most valued
fantasy. It was the one story she would never write. No, that wasn't
true, she had written it, but only one other person would read it, the
artist of Griffon. She had sent it to him, to show her appreciation of
the picture. And appreciation was putting it lightly.

	The chiming of her mail program broke her from her daydream. She
switched over and started checking her inbox.

	Request for a repost for an old story. She politely pointed the person
to her web-page, and didn't mention that every one of her stories had the
URL on it.

	E-mail sex ad, sent because she'd posted on a sex orientated Usenet
groups. Straight to the recycle bin and add the sender to the kill file.

	A simple complement on her last story. She sent off a sent simple thank
you.

	 The next message brought a smile to her face. It was far from glowing
praise, but the person had obviously thought hard about her story, and
was pointing out both typing errors and a few slight plot holes. Her
reply was much more complicated than the previous one, almost like she
was discussing the story with the other person.

	Yet another request for a repost received yet another polite
redirection.

	Hmm... All in caps, starts with an insult. It's a flame, straight to the
bin with it.

	Gods, three requests for reposts in a day. That was too much.

	The header on the final message made her heart skip a beat. It was from
him! The artist! He was replying to her story, and such a large message!
Carol quickly opened the message, and groaned. He had quoted the entire
story back to her, that meant that by the size he had barely added
anything. Quickly she scrolled down through all the text she knew so
well, and found only a single line.

	"'I'm impressed,'" she read aloud, "'but can you live the fantasy?'"

	Carol stared at the strange question for a few seconds, wondering what
he meant. Then she smiled and laughed. She hit the reply button, quickly
deleted all but a few lines of the previous message and typed only one
word. "Gladly."

	It was strangely satisfying watching the indicator bar slowly filling
up, delivering her mail to parts unknown. Strangely, a wave of tiredness
rolled over her. Normally she would be able to stay up till after
midnight before turning in, yet, glancing at the clock, she could see
that it was only half past seven.

	Stifling another yawn, Carol clicked the couple of buttons to shut down
her computer. Getting up, leaving the computer to power off, she wandered
over to her bed. Casting off her dressing gown, she slipped between the
covers and fell into a deep and dreamless sleep the moment her head hit
the covers.

*****

	She awoke with the rays of dawn warming her body and shining in her
eyes, forcing her to screw them shut. She was lying on her front, a
position she wasn't used to. Lazily she stretched her arms, feeling the
soft groan in the over relaxed muscle, and started rolling over. The
straw beneath her rustled as she turned and one of her wings struck her
bedding, leaving her lying on her side.

	Her eyes popped open in shock. Since when did she sleep on straw? Or
have wings for that matter? Quickly she sat up and looked down at
herself.

	The first thing she noticed was the beak that sat at the bottom of her
vision. It was, after all, hard to miss. Investigation of her body was
hampered by her bare breasts, although bare was a relative term. Both of
the large globes (much larger and firmer than they had been) were covered
in soft brown fur-like down, and jutted out in her vision. Her brown
furred legs, still slightly curled as she half sat, were firm and long,
most of all they ended not in her small delicate feet, but instead to
three taloned clawed.

	She lifted one arm, the one she wasn't propping herself up with, and
confirmed, that yes, her hands were also replaced by claws. Her arm was
also as firm as her legs, and she knew that she'd have to work out to
keep this form. Glancing over her shoulder, she confirmed the existence
of her large regal wings rising behind her.

	It was obvious who she was now. Carol Jones been transformed into
Griffon. She was living the fantasy.

	Was it a dream? No, it was too real to be a dream. The small aches of
still sleeping muscles, and the pain of the bright light in her eyes,
showed that she wasn't still sleeping. Despite that she climber to her
feet, er claws.

	A single large stretch encouraged her muscles to stop complaining, and
would have given a great show to anyone watching, if she hadn't been
alone. She glanced about the room, taking in her surroundings for the
first time.

	The room was stone, and the light came streaming through a number of
windows spaced about the walls. A single large opening, covered by a
heavy blanket that shifted slightly in a breeze, was the only exit that
would allow her exit with her large wings. Where there weren't windows,
the walls were taken up by shelves and alcoves, all empty. The floor was
covered in dry yellow straw. At least it was clean straw, but the smell
of the dried plants was getting to her a little, or maybe it was just the
flecks of straw stirred up by her movements.

	Seeing nothing else to do, she paced over to the entrance and pulled
aside the blanket. Beyond she found a wonderful view. Her room was
nestled atop a high tower and the small parapet surrounding it offered no
way down. Beyond the edge, far below, lay a lush green forest, boarded in
the distance by mountains on all sides. At the far end of the valley she
could see another tower peeking up from the trees. Between the two towers
deep in the forest, lay a sparkling blue lake.

	Without thinking she leapt off the parapet, spreading her wings and
catching the air currents. It seemed such a natural thing to do, and it
didn't occur to her till after she was riding the winds that she really
had no idea how to fly. Still her instincts seemed to be serving her
well, as if her body knew, even if her mind didn't.

	Slowly she banked, circling back to have a look at her "home". It was
not, as she had thought, at the top of a tall tower. Instead the small
cave had somehow been carved from the pinnacle of a tall rocky spire that
jutted up from the forest below. It seemed out of place, although too
random to be a building. A few circles of the spire showed that further
down it there was another cave, but somehow she felt like investigating
her neighbor was not a good idea yet.

	Instead she turned to soar towards the tower at the far end of the
valley. She dipped low towards the canopies of the forest. As the trees
shot past beneath her, the wind roaring in her ears and sweeping through
the feathers on her body, she felt something else building within her, a
heat that centered between her legs.

	Then it struck her, she was Griffon, and Griffon had one major problem,
a heightened sex drive. In the story she had written, based on what
little the artist had put on his web pages, this was a problem that
struck her if she didn't find satisfaction. In the story Griffon had been
flying all day when her lusts had overcome her, forcing her to the
ground. If the original Griffon had been struck down by a single day of
feeling like this, what could Carol do, she had not orgasmed in weeks.

	The edge of the forest shot past, and the sparkling crystal of the lake
replaced it. However the fire burning within her kept her distracted so
she couldn't appreciate the beauty of the view. It was all that she could
do to keep her arms fixed to her side, knowing that she could risk
falling out of the sky if she disrupted her aerodynamics. She banked
again, arcing around towards the shore.

	The need was painful by the time she landed heavily and gracelessly on
the banks of the lake. Immediately she plunged one of her talons between
the lips of her already wet pussy. Pleasure coursed through her body as
her digit plunged in and out, coating themselves in her juices.

	Her other talon, seeking something to do, raised up to cup and squeeze
her large breast. This only brought another gasp from her as her lusts
peeked even higher. The tips of her claws found her nipple, and she
squeezed it. That small stimuli pushed her over the edge, and a wave of
ecstasy rolled over her body, sending it a shaking, screaming fit.

	She came down from her orgasm, but the fires of her lust were not
dimmed. If nothing else they were hotter than ever. She was glad she
hadn't removed her talon from her pussy, as she continued to masturbate,
pushing herself towards a second climax.

	A shadow fell across her and a soft male voice spoke. "Let me, beautiful
one."

	Deep in the lust haze, Carol could remember those words, written by her
and said by the one that became Griffon's master. She looked up, to see a
man hovering over her, starting to remove his clothes. He wasn't the man
she imagined, but he was still handsome, and her desires flared again.

	"Please," she gasped. Her need for him was strong. She knew that somehow
his love making would end her heat. Certainly it had for Griffon in the
story.

	"Spread yourself for me," he directed. There was no force in his words,
yet she moved to obey. She extracted her talon from her pussy, the thick
juices slurping as she did. Her arms she raised above her heads as she
spread her legs, display her dripping cunt of his view.

	He stood over her, naked, his member at attention. "Can you live the
fantasy?"

	Carol's heat filled mind barely registered the words, let alone
understood them. She moaned in response, trying to express her great
need.

	He lowered himself onto her his hands reaching up her body to grasp her
breasts. The squeezes of his strong hands sent shivers through her body,
and he smiled down at her. Slowly her pulled himself forward, pulling
down on her breasts, the tension adding more pleasure to her already
strained system.

	Suddenly the tip of his cock touch the lips of her pussy, causing her to
gasp loudy. His first thrust penetrated her hard, and she let out a wail
of pleasure. Then he waited, doing nothing as he filled her.

	Skewered on his cock, she moaned helplessly, gazing up into his eyes.
"Please," she gasped, "please, I need it."

	"Of course, beautiful one," he replied, that caring smile still on his
face. Slowly he pulled out of her, then thrust back in, just as hard as
he had the first time. Carol gasped as his hips slammed into her.

Again he withdrew, but not quite as slowly, and slammed into her. Again
Carol gasped. A third time he withdrew, slightly quicker again, a third
thrust and a third gasp. And so it went, withdraw, thrust, gasp,
withdraw, thrust, gasp. Constantly increasing in speed until Carol was
gasped continuously as he pushed her closer to her climax.

Finally she reached it, her cries rising so high that she made no sound.
Every muscle in her body tightened, forcing her back and shapely ass up
off the ground. But her attention was somehow focus on her insides, as
she felt the sperm of her lover fill her even more. Knowing she had done
this drove her even higher, and a second wave of ecstasy rolled across
her. The only sound she could make was a strangled gurgle as her claws
cut into the earth beneath her.

	After what seemed like an age she collapsed down, spent and exhausted,
but also with the internal fires quieted. The man lowered himself down on
her, resting his head next to her. She could feel his skin against her
feathers, and was sure he was equally enjoying the feel of her. Carefully
she lifted her arms and embraced the man, then closed her eyes to rest in
the after glow.

	She didn't know how long they lay like that, warmed by each other and
the sun shining down form above, before he spoke. "Can you live the
fantasy?"

	Her eyes shot open in surprise, but she purposely held her body still.
"You're him," she whispered. "You made Griffon. And you made me into
her."

	He lifted his head, and for the first time she got a good look at his
face. Maybe it was an after effect of the great sex, or something else
entirely, but she found his plain looks desirable. Or maybe it was the
love shining in his eyes, or the openness in the way he smiled.

	"No, I drew her, you breathed life into her." He bent down and kissed
her beak. "I didn't transform you, I simply opened the door. You are the
one that walked through it."

	She looked into his eyes. "And is that door still open?"

	He nodded. "Yes, you are the only one that can close it, that is part of
the magic."

	She snorted. "There's no such thing as magic."

	"Says the part cat-part hawk girl. You can't deny that what has happened
to you is real, and that magic is the only possibility." He placed his
hands on either side of her body and lifted himself out of her embrace.
She whimpered slightly as he stood, already missing the feeling of skin
against feather.

	"Sorry, you're right." She sat up and watched him as he walked over to
his clothes. He wasn't a hunk, or a superman, but neither was he a geek
or a slob. His body wasn't over muscled, but was frimed from excerise,
probably tramping around these woods she realised. All over he was
nothing to get excited about, in fact he was very average in every way,
except that he had just given her the fucking of her life. She paused.
And he was getting ready to go for a walk. He must have incredible
stamina, all the men she had known went to sleep after sex.

	"I suppose I'd best define the spell a little better, so you don't
accidentally activate some part of it. When I asked you that question
over the net, and you decided you wanted to give it a try, the spell was
activated, transforming you and bringing you here. Now that you've lived
through the fantasy, its up to you if you wish to continue playing
Griffon, or go back to Carol Johns." He finished pulling on his jacket,
and picked up his knapsack. Slinging it over his shoulder. "But beware,
once the decision is made, there is no changing it."

	Carol stared at him for a few seconds, then stood, finding herself
actually taller than him. "So, if I become Griffon, what happens, you
chain me up and trot me out whenever you want to fuck?"

	He cocked his head to one side. "If I wanted to do that, why would I
give you the choice? No, that's not the decision you have to make. It's
more like the one you wrote of in your story, except that I imagine your
history is like Griffon's."

	She shrugged, and was glad to notice that his eyes were drawn to her
breasts by the movement. "I don't know, what was the line: 'What choice
is there? I live as the property of the only man who has ever shown
interest and enjoy incredible sex as his willing toy, or I go back to a
pointless life of loneliness and sexual frustration.' I think it sums it
up."

	He raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Your life was really that bad?"

	"My stories were my only release." Her beak curved up in a smile. "But I
guess that isn't true anymore. There is nothing back there for me,
compared to the adventures I'll have with you. There is no choice,
there's only one problem."

	"Problem?" his brow wrinkled in confusion. "What's that?"

	"I'm underdressed." She replied simply.

	"Huh?"

	She lifted her claw to her neck. "No collar, and no leash."

	After a pause, he smiled, then burst into a knowing laugh. He swung the
knapsack off his back again, and opened the top. Quickly he rummaged
inside the pack, then extracted the collar and leash. He held out the two
objects, just like ones he had drawn.

	Carol didn't accept them though. Instead she knelt down before him and
stretch lifted her head, giving him access to her neck. Smiling
knowingly, he bent over and wrapped the collar about her throat. It shut
and locked with a satisfying and final click.

	Griffon rose to her hind claws before The Master, and lowered her head.
"Master, lead me on to my new life. I await the pleasurable adventures
that you will put me through."

	Still smiling, The Master took the leash and turned to lead Griffon
along the lakeshore, back towards his home, and her new life. The girl
beast followed along behind him willingly, a swing in her gait, and sex
on her mind.

-----