<strong>* GRAND HALL *</strong><br/><br/>Fern slips into the gulf of dim that defines the Grand Hall, and makes to close the door.  She feels, slinking on her bare skin, a peculiar warmth residing in the chamber.  Snug as saran, the subtle heat hums on her surface, relieving it of any need of clothes for comfort.  Muscles plucked smoother by the temperature, skin oiled, Fern might soak in the relaxation that inhabits this place as though its very blood.<br/><br/>She might, but cannot.  Anxiety reigns.  It marches forward on the trim clack of lacquered feet.<br/><br/>The suits of armor are coming on.  Elaborate in their design, rote in their motion, they advance with a steady fluidity in two ranks of six.<br/><br/>The door refuses to close to stall them.<br/><br/><br/><strong>* ENCLOSURE *</strong><br/><br/>Carving wide into Miaren's tight, clenching vagina, the griffon pants from the beak that skims its blade along her neck in loving lethality.  His breath blasts rough and woolly over the back of her head and the sides of her throat.  It shrouds her face in humid boiling.  She breathes in his lust.<br/><br/>She takes in much more of him as well.<br/><br/>Above all, his cock.  Driving.  Forked.  Timber dense.<br/><br/>Other sensations as well.  Her arched back imbibes the warm current of his fur as it rubs her shoulders and spine.  Her breasts knock their bloated bulbs against the clamping iron bars of his fore legs, resounding like castanets, nerves in her nipples chattering while the leather binding the base rolls the globes in its bite.  Her rump is punched into by the post, pressure nudging it up and down with each quick dash of his haunches.<br/><br/>Above all, at the core of it all, Miaren feels his cock.<br/><br/>His cock rolls in the pocket of her pussy, making it twist and tremble helplessly.  It makes her tummy bulge more from within.  The eggs are sent turning in her womb.  Muscles flow and clutch.<br/><br/>The prong jabs, the width gores her open, and the crimson surface flares with splashes of red heat.<br/><br/>She feels this - Miaren even sees it:  How the hues shift on the wide shaft that her splayed and wanton pussy is suckling.  How the lips of that pussy tremble as they're pushed in, pulled out, carved aside by the veined surface.  How much of him she is taking.<br/><br/>He growls in pleasure to feel what she sees.  He pounds faster and faster.  Each thrust brings the fringe of his fur licking fiendishly at her tumid clitoris.<br/><br/>And each brings him deeper, to discover new nerves that tremble in joyous subjugation, giving voice to just how 'right' this is.