Zil's promiscuity has finally necessitated a permanent solution, it seems.
Zil is mine, and the gryphon character belongs to the author.",
"writing": "Standing now before the court, the eyes of a full score of nobles glaring down at him from their elevated council seats while he stood on all fours on the cold stone of the rotunda, he found himself again cursing his seemingly insatiable libido. She had been lovely, no doubt about that, and their tryst had been truly fantastic, but even as good as that liaison several nights before had been, the thought of facing the consequences made him huff out in frustration at his own lack of self control.\nThey were willing to tolerate the indiscretions at first, because while it wasn’t the most appropriate behavior for one of royal status, it wasn’t exactly uncommon either. He was far from the first prince to use his wealth and status to try and see how many beds he could end up in. The occasional salacious tale in court unerringly reinforced by rumors outside of it were simply a little spice to the usual gossip. Something to share with a little guilty thrill in the chest while whispering behind raised hands.\nThe gossip and snickering started to turn to consternation and eventually frustration when the bastards started coming into the mix. In a kingdom with the variety of different species that there’s did, hybrid children were nothing out of the ordinary, but the telltale eyes the color of sunset, long black hair, and sometimes even the horns finding their way onto hybrids throughout the kingdom was rapidly becoming a little more than just a phase that other royals were willing to overlook.\nThe grumblings became more pronounced due to another element of this developing situation, which was the hermaphroditism of the prince himself. Bastard children were one thing, but with the way the prince was also finding no shortage of willing males to knock himself up as much as he was knocking up females himself, the potential succession pool was starting to become a little crowded. Trying to find some way to curtail the prince’s sexual rampage, the decision was made that he would join a diplomatic envoy to the neighboring kingdom in order to at least get him out of their hair for a month or so. Sighs of relief were breathed as they left, and a few allowed themselves rueful smiles at the thought that at least there wouldn’t be more chaos for them to deal with for the time being.\nRight up until Prince Zorilla took a liking to a certain rather gorgeous eastern-dragon princess, all long painted fur and with a sly smirk that made his heart flutter at the sight. Riding her was an absolute delight with her body being as long and flexible as it was, and she could move herself in ways that left him gasping on the floor like a beached fish trying to get his wits back about him.\nWhat his unquenchable lust failed to factor in was the idea that a princess such as herself might already have a betrothed who might not take very kindly to his future bride having a roll in the hay with another male. If her husband-to-be would have been frustrated by this, he was understandably moreso when a few months after this union the princess began developing a baby bump. It had been all the foreign king could do to prevent the poor cuckold’s house from throwing both nations into war.\nFor the ruling council, this was Prince Zorilla’s final romp. They intended to make sure such diplomatic incidents were a thing of the past, and they knew just how they were going to do it. With that, the poor Prince found himself wincing and gulping as his sentence was read off, and the knowledge that he would soon be missing some very personal parts of himself started to sink in. The sound of the doors to the great hall opening behind him made him turn away from the satisfied smirks in those high galleries above the courtroom floor, and he beheld a long black beak followed by white and iridescent blue plumage sauntering through the door with the same kind of knowing smirk. He turned back and started to protest, only to find that his jaw was held shut and his feet pressed firmly to the floor as the dragon cancellarius’ eyes glowed with the exercise of his power. It appeared he wouldn’t even be allowed to plead his case.\nThe gryphon, meanwhile, whose talons he could hear clicking across the floor throughout this brief distraction, settled onto his rump with a soft plop of buttocks on tiles and reached up to cup the orange scaly sack before him, running a toe over the single stripe of fur running right up the center between the two sizable and obviously virile testes hidden within. He could feel their current owner flinch at the contact and turn back to eye him nervously, but he didn’t let himself be bothered with that.\nNot one to turn down an opportunity for a little showmanship, though, he lifted the hefty sack and spoke the incantation he needed louder than strictly necessary to make sure his victim heard it. His bracelet, then his talon, and then the sack he held glowed violet before the glow faded, and he spoke again to form his right pointer into a short blade. With his left he grabbed the dragon’s scrotum and pulled down on it while placing that sharpened claw right at the base of his groin and pressing it easily into his spell-readied flesh. It took only a quick circle to bloodlessly finish the job, and with a dramatic flourish he whipped the scaly sack down and off of the now exposed core of his victim’s masculinity and tossed it aside with a flick of his wrist.\nLeaning closer, he dragged the underside of his beak along the left one until it rested on his nares and took a long sniff, closing his eyes with shameless delight at that familiar fleshy scent with just a hint of the musk left from the scrotum he’d just discarded. With a sudden darting motion he grabbed that unprotected testicle in his beak and then leaned back away from the Prince’s groin, putting the cords on the stretch much to the laughter and delight of the gathered Lords in their elevated benches. They could see the once-mighty breeder’s face contorted in obvious discomfort at what was happening to him, which only made the scene more enjoyable.\nAmid the snickers from the witnesses a sound that was half squelch and half pop could be heard, and upon hearing it the testicular executioner twisted his head sharply and those cords came loose from the crotch they’d called home for so many years to swing wide like a casually tossed scarf and drape themselves across the iridescent black feathers. With a wink to all assembled he whipped his head up, sending the royal sperm factor and its ruined tether high into the air only to descend ball-first looking like one of the sperms it would never again produce into the waiting open beak below. He snapped it shut as the cord started to coil itself within the back of his beak, swallowing a fat lump down his exposed throat to land in his stomach as some applause now broke out.\nDetermined not to disappoint, he quickly grabbed the other one still dangling helpless in the air in his left and brought that makeshift blade on his right to press up against the bottom of it. Waiting just long enough for the anticipation to set in, with a quick one-two motion he dragged that blade up the side of the strained tunica, splitting that translucent membrane before immediately squeezing with his left and opening his beak once more, effectively juicing the organ directly into his waiting throat. With a quick dart he engulfed the cord as well and snapped his beak closed to snip it free right next to where its former fellow was so recently evicted. He leaned back and slowly licked the last of the destroyed tubules and the sperm within them from his talon as a few of the assembled lords got to their feet and applauded all the louder.\nThroughout all the discomforting sensations of the procedure itself, the shame was somehow far worse and left the poor Prince wishing he could simply crawl into a hole in the floor to escape this most unwanted attention. Whatever thoughts of defiance he might have had before were quite effectively quashed by this so public and theatrical of castrations.\nHis father’s prime minister stood and declared that thanks to the dual equipment of the hermaphrodite prince that the royal line would in no way be threatened by this because he could still be called upon to bear an heir, though not in the way that could create such political disruptions ever again. The story would be passed down for generations to come, this day used as a cautionary tale against any other potential gallivanting sexual crusaders.",
"writing_bbcode_parsed": "Standing now before the court, the eyes of a full score of nobles glaring down at him from their elevated council seats while he stood on all fours on the cold stone of the rotunda, he found himself again cursing his seemingly insatiable libido. She had been lovely, no doubt about that, and their tryst had been truly fantastic, but even as good as that liaison several nights before had been, the thought of facing the consequences made him huff out in frustration at his own lack of self control. They were willing to tolerate the indiscretions at first, because while it wasn’t the most appropriate behavior for one of royal status, it wasn’t exactly uncommon either. He was far from the first prince to use his wealth and status to try and see how many beds he could end up in. The occasional salacious tale in court unerringly reinforced by rumors outside of it were simply a little spice to the usual gossip. Something to share with a little guilty thrill in the chest while whispering behind raised hands. The gossip and snickering started to turn to consternation and eventually frustration when the bastards started coming into the mix. In a kingdom with the variety of different species that there’s did, hybrid children were nothing out of the ordinary, but the telltale eyes the color of sunset, long black hair, and sometimes even the horns finding their way onto hybrids throughout the kingdom was rapidly becoming a little more than just a phase that other royals were willing to overlook. The grumblings became more pronounced due to another element of this developing situation, which was the hermaphroditism of the prince himself. Bastard children were one thing, but with the way the prince was also finding no shortage of willing males to knock himself up as much as he was knocking up females himself, the potential succession pool was starting to become a little crowded. Trying to find some way to curtail the prince’s sexual rampage, the decision was made that he would join a diplomatic envoy to the neighboring kingdom in order to at least get him out of their hair for a month or so. Sighs of relief were breathed as they left, and a few allowed themselves rueful smiles at the thought that at least there wouldn’t be more chaos for them to deal with for the time being. Right up until Prince Zorilla took a liking to a certain rather gorgeous eastern-dragon princess, all long painted fur and with a sly smirk that made his heart flutter at the sight. Riding her was an absolute delight with her body being as long and flexible as it was, and she could move herself in ways that left him gasping on the floor like a beached fish trying to get his wits back about him. What his unquenchable lust failed to factor in was the idea that a princess such as herself might already have a betrothed who might not take very kindly to his future bride having a roll in the hay with another male. If her husband-to-be would have been frustrated by this, he was understandably moreso when a few months after this union the princess began developing a baby bump. It had been all the foreign king could do to prevent the poor cuckold’s house from throwing both nations into war. For the ruling council, this was Prince Zorilla’s final romp. They intended to make sure such diplomatic incidents were a thing of the past, and they knew just how they were going to do it. With that, the poor Prince found himself wincing and gulping as his sentence was read off, and the knowledge that he would soon be missing some very personal parts of himself started to sink in. The sound of the doors to the great hall opening behind him made him turn away from the satisfied smirks in those high galleries above the courtroom floor, and he beheld a long black beak followed by white and iridescent blue plumage sauntering through the door with the same kind of knowing smirk. He turned back and started to protest, only to find that his jaw was held shut and his feet pressed firmly to the floor as the dragon cancellarius’ eyes glowed with the exercise of his power. It appeared he wouldn’t even be allowed to plead his case. The gryphon, meanwhile, whose talons he could hear clicking across the floor throughout this brief distraction, settled onto his rump with a soft plop of buttocks on tiles and reached up to cup the orange scaly sack before him, running a toe over the single stripe of fur running right up the center between the two sizable and obviously virile testes hidden within. He could feel their current owner flinch at the contact and turn back to eye him nervously, but he didn’t let himself be bothered with that. Not one to turn down an opportunity for a little showmanship, though, he lifted the hefty sack and spoke the incantation he needed louder than strictly necessary to make sure his victim heard it. His bracelet, then his talon, and then the sack he held glowed violet before the glow faded, and he spoke again to form his right pointer into a short blade. With his left he grabbed the dragon’s scrotum and pulled down on it while placing that sharpened claw right at the base of his groin and pressing it easily into his spell-readied flesh. It took only a quick circle to bloodlessly finish the job, and with a dramatic flourish he whipped the scaly sack down and off of the now exposed core of his victim’s masculinity and tossed it aside with a flick of his wrist. Leaning closer, he dragged the underside of his beak along the left one until it rested on his nares and took a long sniff, closing his eyes with shameless delight at that familiar fleshy scent with just a hint of the musk left from the scrotum he’d just discarded. With a sudden darting motion he grabbed that unprotected testicle in his beak and then leaned back away from the Prince’s groin, putting the cords on the stretch much to the laughter and delight of the gathered Lords in their elevated benches. They could see the once-mighty breeder’s face contorted in obvious discomfort at what was happening to him, which only made the scene more enjoyable. Amid the snickers from the witnesses a sound that was half squelch and half pop could be heard, and upon hearing it the testicular executioner twisted his head sharply and those cords came loose from the crotch they’d called home for so many years to swing wide like a casually tossed scarf and drape themselves across the iridescent black feathers. With a wink to all assembled he whipped his head up, sending the royal sperm factor and its ruined tether high into the air only to descend ball-first looking like one of the sperms it would never again produce into the waiting open beak below. He snapped it shut as the cord started to coil itself within the back of his beak, swallowing a fat lump down his exposed throat to land in his stomach as some applause now broke out. Determined not to disappoint, he quickly grabbed the other one still dangling helpless in the air in his left and brought that makeshift blade on his right to press up against the bottom of it. Waiting just long enough for the anticipation to set in, with a quick one-two motion he dragged that blade up the side of the strained tunica, splitting that translucent membrane before immediately squeezing with his left and opening his beak once more, effectively juicing the organ directly into his waiting throat. With a quick dart he engulfed the cord as well and snapped his beak closed to snip it free right next to where its former fellow was so recently evicted. He leaned back and slowly licked the last of the destroyed tubules and the sperm within them from his talon as a few of the assembled lords got to their feet and applauded all the louder. Throughout all the discomforting sensations of the procedure itself, the shame was somehow far worse and left the poor Prince wishing he could simply crawl into a hole in the floor to escape this most unwanted attention. Whatever thoughts of defiance he might have had before were quite effectively quashed by this so public and theatrical of castrations. His father’s prime minister stood and declared that thanks to the dual equipment of the hermaphrodite prince that the royal line would in no way be threatened by this because he could still be called upon to bear an heir, though not in the way that could create such political disruptions ever again. The story would be passed down for generations to come, this day used as a cautionary tale against any other potential gallivanting sexual crusaders.",
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\n\t\t\t\t\tPeckishBeak.