Transformed by His Mistress: A Gryphon Hen Taken by the Flock

By Alis Mitsy

Damien is just a man but he is a man called into the mountains by his mistress, a woman that he's only met once at a nightclub and has simply captured both his heart and, most individual, attention. Who knows when they may find a woman like that again? He's not willing to let her go in a hurry but this dominant lady has so much in store for him, stringing him up to be bound and transformed into a gryphon while the rest of her little flock waits in the shadows.

As a newly transformed gryphon hen, Damien no longer can claim any semblance of masculinity and "Crystal" is faced with the randy drakes, all under their mistress' loving control, who have one thing and one thing alone on their minds...

This story is an extended version of the original Transformed by His Mistress eBook and contains consensual, straight erotic scenes with gryphons.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Alis Mitsy
• Release date: Dec 4, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463702611

Alis Mitsy

An author set to bring your fantasies to life and more. I have been writing erotica since 2011 and am ever set to improve my craft, exploring kinks that are new to me, all for your reading pleasure.Fancy something a little more personal? Do you want a tale written with you as the star or another character of your creation in the erotic spotlight?I am currently open for commission work beginning at a rate of 30 GBP per 1000 words and occasionally have special offers running too for mini-stories. Please contact [e-mail] for further details.

Book preview

Transformed by His Mistress

A Gryphon Hen Taken by the Flock

Alis Mitsy

This work is copyrighted under the pen name of Alis Mitsy as of 2018.

This story may be published under other pen names belonging to the author.

All acts and characters are works of fiction and any resemblance to real people or events is coincidental.

You knew what you were getting into.

Damien squirmed in his bonds, hands tied over his head with a strip of leather. It had become wet at some point, cutting into the young man’s wrists as it dried. Damien growled, obsidian black hair flopping into his eyes, badly in need of a trim. It didn’t seem like he was ever going to get that haircut, however.

No! I didn’t! He snarled, kicking out at nothing as he dangled in the centre of the cave, the entrance yawning behind him, so close and yet so far. Let me go!

His efforts were futile at best, however, heart pounding in his chest as he licked his dry lips and staggered to get his feet back beneath him, eyes as stern as he could make them. In all honesty, he wasn’t fooling anyone and his outburst was just one more in a succession of increasingly weakening protests as his hard cock jutted out, throbbing and needy.

Oh?

The mistress he’d approached in the back of the club smiled at him. Flicking her blonde ponytail back over her shoulder, she stood tall, though she had no reason to put her hands on her hips in order to appear imposing in the slightest. Bridget looked considerably different without her latex attire, though the simple leather bralette and the denim shorts she’d chosen to don instead for their hike out into the countryside could have passed for fetish gear in some circles. In pursuit of a more potent pleasure, he’d traipsed curiously and surprisingly obediently at her heels, meeting up on the quiet Sunday morning with a head that pounded a little too hard to be a mark of pride after a good night out.

He’d expected to be tied up. What he hadn’t expected was for her to take everything so seriously as if she really was going to go through with it. Damien shivered. And, if it was true, he wanted that, oh so very badly.

But it couldn’t be real. He shook the thought from his mind. It had to be something else, yes, anything else. What he did know, without a doubt, was that it was going to be good. Very good.

Maybe...

So, you don’t want this? She breathed, tracing her fingers ever so lightly up the length of his cock. You don’t want everything I promised you? I can let you go right now and everything will slip away. You never have to speak to me or come to this place again.

Standing back, Bridget dusted her hands off as if she was good and done with him, her blue eyes sharp with an edge of the calculating.

But then you can never come back.

Damien growled and turned his head away, face rough with the hint of dark stubble. Fuck her! How did she know just how to sway him, draw him into her will as easily as a puppeteer manipulating the puppet’s strings?

His curiosity was bigger than he and he groaned as her hand, once again, went to his cock, curling her fingers around his thick length and drawing her palm, smoothly, up to the tip. Every movement was thought through, he couldn’t doubt that, but it tipped him further and further in her favour.

Damien closed his eyes, breath clawing at his windpipe as if he could not quite get enough oxygen into his lungs. What could it hurt to indulge himself just a little?

Fine, he whispered, hanging his head. Just do it. I can reverse it afterwards, yes? Like you said? He clutched at straws, eyes desperate. It will be as you said, won’t it? No lies?

Yes, she said, cupping his face to lift it up to hers. But you will always be mine.

He wouldn’t admit to himself just how lustfully his heart leapt to hear those words. What he did instead of lean forward and passionately kiss her, the object of his utter devotion, was nod curtly. His eyes, however, betrayed the gleam of inner desire and Bridget smirked, painted lips curving up wickedly on just the one side.

Standing back, Bridget brought her hands together in a sharp clap.

Let us begin!

Rummaging in the bag that she’d had him carry all the way up the mountain with them – well, that was a bit of an exaggeration as they were only halfway up the mountainside – she withdrew a small vial of pink fluid, stopped up with a cork. It looked more like something that would have appeared in a movie about magic or fantasy or something along those lines than something one should have brought along with them on a hike and he pressed his lips together, pulling back even as she advanced.

The pop of the cork bursting free drew a shiver down his spine that he would not