“Tyrus!” Faria whispered harshly, shaking the small body awake, “Tyrus, Wake up!” The female gryphon guided her partner's sleeping hand below the covers, down to a warm, wet patch between her legs. The male stirred.
	
	“What time is it?” he slurred, his small avian talon clutching at the sheets. The room was dark.
	
	“You don't want to know,” his mate answered. “But today's the day. The big day!”
	
	Tyrus fumbled his claw over the stain, only now just starting to grasp what his mate was trying to show him. He moved his hand around, feeling a warm, feline thigh before gently gracing over her muff. “Water?”
	
	“Careful,” Faria whispered, nodding, gently guiding his hand up to the swell of her globular belly, “It's tender.” Her mate patted her belly gently. 
	
	“Shame,” he replied, “I'm sure King would love to pound you awake.” There was a muffled whurf as the great Dane at the end of the bed heard his name being called.
	
	“I think he'd be a bit too rough, dear” she cooed into Tyrus' ear, nibbling at his feathered neck with her sharp beak, “But I'm sure the little gryph could use some gentle nudging to get it ready for the big day.”
	
	Tyrus couldn't agree more. He rolled over, gently clenching his claw to his mate's breast, teasing a tiny dribble of milk onto the sheets. Faria moaned, nuzzling into his neck. His legs only reached down to Faria's thighs, and his head only up to her chin.
	
	To say that Tyrus and Faria were not a typical couple would be a rather horrific understatement. Faria was Tyrus' mother and nearly thirty years his senior. She had been grooming him since birth to be a corrupt, sadistic little cub, unmolested by 'little' hindrances like morals or decency. She sucked him off under the guise of breastfeeding. She jerked his little member to calm him down, and he quickly learned to love it. He was raw desire. Whatever he wanted, his mother did her best to give it to him. They started fucking each other on his second birthday, and they weren't caught until two years later.  His father was outraged, of course, and it looked like Faria and Tyrus' little world of depravity was going to come crumbling down until the older male met with an unfortunate 'accident' only a few days later. The little gryphon was overjoyed – what better gift to give a four-year-old than the end of bedtimes and irksome responsibilities? He didn't grasp the fact that his father was a person on his own yet – he viewed him as an annoyance, and his removal simply served to reaffirm that status.
	
	When the dawn broke, Faria was still wrapped around her son as best as she was able in her gravid state, entangled in the most exquisitely slow, gentle lovemaking session of her life. King whined occasionally, nudging at one or the other in hopes of being let in. The pair often made the large canine a part of their lovemaking sessions. Sometimes he pounded Faria ruthlessly from one end while Tyrus took the other, or sometimes Faria would masturbate him while she made love to her son. But not this morning. This morning belonged to the pair of them, and the life they had made together.
	
	Faria lost count of how many times she came. Sometimes her mate's barbed, feline shaft rubbed her just the right way, sometimes it was her own claws, and every once in a while it was the sweet release at the end of an early contraction, timed just right to bring her over the edge. King continued to whine, and eventually Faria extended her hand to curl it around his bright red shaft. He was much bigger than Tyrus, of course, to say nothing of his titanic knot, but he was a brute. He was strong, rough, and quick to finish, whereas Tyrus was a real master of the 'motion in the ocean'. His comparatively tiny member (his 'chick-prick', she called it,) often reached just far enough to hit all the right places with typical youthful vigor, but even with his barbed, feline member, he couldn't be rough if he tried. That was what King was for.

	Hours passed, and her contractions grew in intensity. She had been propped up with a plethora of pillows to support her bulk into sort of a half-sit, with her ten-year old cradled in the crook of one arm. He was fondling her nipples idly, almost hypnotized by the little dribbles of milk that crept out to stain her plumage. 
	
	“How long do I have to wait, momma?” Tyrus whined, “It's taking forever!” 

	Faria did have to compliment her son's patience. He had been waiting for hours. Each time she strained and pushed, her son moved between her legs to watch, and was left unsatisfied. The baby wasn't moving down, or at least not very fast. She could feel it, though, it's little head resting on her pelvis, threatening to burst forth with each passing contraction. She was breathing hard, the mature gryphoness doing everything in her power to lessen the impact of the next contraction. But it only worked for so long. In moments, the pain was reinforced by a sudden, overwhelming need to push. Something inside her wanted out, and it wanted out NOW.
	
	“Ohgod,” she panted, gripping her son with one hand and her pillow with the other, “Something's . . .coming. . . .” she grunted, her beak clenched tightly and her feline legs spread wide apart, exposing her swollen snatch. Tyrus eagerly rolled out of his mother's grip and crouched low to the bed to have a peek. 
	
	“It's moving!” he exclaimed, gently spreading his mother's labia, “It's moving, it's moving!” He could just see the smallest speck of white as the unborn chick's head pressed through Faria's straining cervix. Faria let out an exhausted squawk and let her head flop back onto the pillows, breathing hard. She could do it. She had to do it. She pushed again, pulling her feline legs up to her chest and fully exposing her engorged snatch to her son, who stared with wide-eyed marvel. King saw, too, and he was still rather pent-up from the gryphoness cock-blocking him earlier that morning. He smelled that inviting scent from across the room and followed his nose eagerly, pushing Tyrus easily aside and pressing his cold nose right against Faria's groin. Faria shrieked, but both her son and dog were undeterred. Tyrus began rubbing the canine's sheath, exposing just a peek of that bright red shaft. Faria still had her eyes closed, and remained blissfully unaware of King's swelling cock teasing at her nethers until it was too late.
	
	In a single moment, King's hips lurched forward, and his throbbing, bright red member was forced right between those tense lips. Faria gasped. The head of the chick had made her a lot looser than usual, but she could still feel him plunging into her depths, finally claiming what he had been waiting hours for. She could feel him pounding, hammering away, and she threw her head back in bliss . . .until she realized she still needed to push. “T-Tyrus!” she stammered, “Help! The chick is coming! King, down! Bad dog!” Tyrus only giggled. 
	
	“It's okay, momma!” the gryphon chick giggled, “He's helping!” 

	Faria let out a worried moan. She wasn't sure if that was innocence talking, or Tyrus' usual youthful malevolence. She felt the jackhammer action of the great Dane's cock pushing against something inside her – something large. It was a chain reaction of sorts; each thrust was pushing the little chick further back through her cervix, causing the mother gryphon no small amount of discomfort. And then she felt him begin to knot her. “Oh no,” she groaned, “No, no no! Bad dog!” 
	
	King was oblivious. He kept pounding away, his knot beginning to grow, quickly plugging the entrance to her birth canal. His knot may not have been as big as the chick's head, but it was certainly big enough that the two were not going to fit at the same time.
	
	Faria was tied, her birth canal sealed up by King's immense knot. Her contractions didn't stop, and she had no choice but to bear down, forcing her her unborn chick's head into the swell of the massive canine cock. An unstoppable force against an immovable object, or at least that was what it felt like. With every push she made, King pushed back dozens of times, aggressively hammering the chick back into Faria's body. Faria could feel the chick kicking in protest, each thrust of King's hips sending reverberations throughout her body. It was agony and ecstasy all rolled together and she wasn't quite sure how to feel, but she knew that there was no turning back now. King was tied, stuck to her, and still going strong.
	
	Tyrus watched, wide-eyed. Even his young mind knew that there was no way a baby was coming out of that hole while the dog was plugging it up. The lewd sight had his little prick hardening in moments, his youthful vigour preventing him from being tired out so easily. He wondered where he fit into the mix, with King taking up most of the space. He crawled over and nibbled at her engorged nipple, sending tingles down his mother's spine. She put her hand around her son's head “Keep going!” she groaned.
	
	Faria's head rolled from side to side and her hands gripped her thighs, pulling her knees up to her breasts. She hoped she could stretch wide enough to push the knot out before he actually started doing some serious damage to the unborn chick. She pushed down, hard, moving a hand to feel her nether lips expand. Just then, she felt King lunge forward, and something warm and wet flooded her birth canal. It was like her waters breaking, only in reverse. The fluid was going back UP into her womb instead of the other way around! She gasped, and King looked noticeably pleased with himself, if a little exhausted. She knew that look. 
	
	King's cock was nearly a foot deep inside Faria. And Faria knew her chick was trying to fit into the same space. She felt almost bloated by the feeling of the two of them, together. She was wondering to herself how the two of them could even fit, and then the contractions returned with a vengeance. Blocked or not, she had to push that chick out of her, and she had to do it now. She bore down and pushed with all her might, feeling no progress. King whined, turning around and beginning to tug. Tyrus knew something was wrong. King was usually content to stay knotted for quite some time, he never put up a fuss or looked the slightest bit uncomfortable.
	
	“Is something wrong?” he asked shyly. 
	
	“It's . . .coming!” Faria answered, “But King's stuck! It hurts!”
	
	King whined again, and Faria threw her head back onto the pillow. The contractions weren't stopping like they used to – it was like a plateau of pain!  
	
	Faria screamed. King pulled. There was a messy, wet popping sound as King's titanic knot pulled free, followed by a gurgling squelch as the chick's entire body followed in a river of blood, dragged out by the dog's member. Faria reached up and cradled the newborn. It was covered in blood, and pinkish goo seeped from a hideous, gaping wound on the top of its fragile head.
	
	Tyrus peered over, clambering into his mother's lap. “. . .it's not moving.” he observed flatly. “That's no fun!” Faria shook her head. 
	
	“No,” she replied, “it isn't. We can't make a fucktoy out of a corpse!”
	
	“We could always try again,” Tyrus offered. His mother nodded. 
	
	“We could.” 
	
	The little body was tossed on the floor, along with the meaty placenta. King licked his lips at the treat, and set to work devouring the entire mess, shaking the newborn corpse like a toy as he gnawed on its skull.
	
	“When can we try again?” Tyrus asked, climbing back into bed.
	
	“Tomorrow,” Faria grinned, giving him a peck on the cheek, “Mommy needs to recover. Now be a good little boy and bring mommy some water.”