As Miaren's mind spits out the tattered missive - "One false move" - the griffon hunches his hips forward and shoves hard.  Motion wells up through Miaren as the feline immensity on top of her is filled with a rushing exertion; a wave that washes away all resistance and turns her nerves into a briny froth of submission.  Furred hips slam against her thighs.  Her tail lances down into the cavity of her ass, pushing the bulbous head into the strained space until penetration sears down through her tummy.  Her bound breasts strain against the ground, stimulation filling their growing stretch further with blood, pressure forcing their expanding skin tighter.<br/><br/>And he enters her.<br/><br/>He pushes the fork of his penis into the clasping frenzy of Miaren's vagina.  He meets her limits, thrusts again, eases them aside like butter around a brand.  He grinds into the silky sheath, its melting gripping his motion, his veined throbbing, his furious lust.<br/><br/>Fern sees the griffon mount.  She watches the fiery bronze of its titanic leonine form hunch up.  She sees him bear down, smells the spill of fluids from Miaren's punctured core, hears the slapping and moist squeezing.  Fern observes as, in the idyllic setting of the glade, the griffon pounds away at the bare, harnessed human woman.<br/><br/>And inside Miaren, over her, all around her, the griffon begins to hammer, smooth and steady, working its long, thick penis inside her as it pets her neck with its beak's curve.