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From: David Farr <djfarr@ihug.co.nz>
Subject: {ASSM} Living the Fantasy. Griffon ( mf fur magic )
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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 the was 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 breast 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 the 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 warning 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.

-----

Author's Note:
	I want to thank my fan, Allen, who sent me all the Griffon 
pictures that served as inspiration for this story. Of course a bigger 
thanks goes out to all the artists who drew those pictures, without them 
Carol would never have become Griffon.
	And now a request. If any of my readers are artists that are 
themselves inspired, I ask if you could put your inspiration to paper and 
send me pictures of Griffon as she is described here. Specially, if 
anyone could draw for me the original Griffon as described on The 
Master's web page, I'd appreciate it. And of course any artists will be 
given credit.
	Also any comments or corrections are equally appreciated.
	My e-mail address is: djfarr@ihug.co.nz

-----------
David Farr
http://homepages.ihug.co.nz/~djfarr/
djfarr@ihug.co.nz        katsuhito@planetjurai.com
"Die-cast construction, it's a lost art." 
      - Optimus Primal, Beast Wars.


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