Avery's veterinary clinic was a small, rural, ramshackle medical outfit. The waiting room had a drab and antiseptic interior. Avery believed the spartan aesthetics helped communicate to his often impoverished clientele that the clinic would meet their lowered expectations, at an affordable price point. As much as he wanted to focus on his animal patients, it was their owners that had the final say, often on whether to even seek medical help.
The high-strung man entered into the veterinary field with high hopes. Avery had always wanted to specialize in avian medicine, but there were far more sick cows and dogs than parrots. As the years went by, all his practical experience had been with common domestics, and his unique field of expertise remained disused. It was difficult dealing with the indifference people displayed to their own pets and animals. Many of the ranchers in his area took better care of their trucks than their horses, or much less, cattle. The veterinarian's kind heart struggled with the heartbreaking nature of his work. Avery's constant struggle to ameliorate the animal suffering he encountered had brought his anxious disposition to a nervous state, driving him to seek drastic solutions.
The empathetic vet's life had been thrown off-kilter by his increasingly dire coping mechanisms. It began innocently enough, with Avery offering incredibly charitable, secretly subsidized care to the more desperate and earnest. However, the man's meager business earnings and savings could not cover his compulsive need to offer premium care for rock-bottom prices. Brought to desperate straights, Avery began leveraging his medical background to secure quality painkillers and tranquilizers for the black market. It wasn't unusual for the veterinarian to spend lavishly on supplies, given his dedicated nature, and he managed to move an impressive amount of illicit product through the region.
Before long, the mounting stress of Avery's double-life and unsustainable business practices harried him into sampling his own pharmaceutical goods. The man developed an impressively diverse set of narcotic dependencies, leveraging his medical knowledge to maintain a fraught, chemically-abetted emotional equilibrium. His shady dealings eventually 'blossomed' into a notorious reputation. Avery soon found himself up late, stitching stab wounds and helping streetwalkers detox from hard drugs, on top of his trying daytime veterinary work.
The little animal clinic was seemingly closed up for the night, but Avery was just setting up for his 'off-hours' work. One of the veterinarian's underground contacts had informed him that a lucrative client was arriving tonight, with an 'unusual' medical situation. Avery was inwardly shivering to imagine what the secrecy was about, bringing him to begin steeling his nerves with pharmacological numbness. When a shrouded figure broke through the gloomy darkness and approached the clinic's back door, the medicated vet was already there to quietly usher him inside.
The elderly, robed man was utterly unlike Avery's usual night-time solicitors. At first, the vet thought he was dressed up in some kind of disguise, with his pointed hat and gnarled walking cane, but the stranger's well-fit, weathered gear spoke of years of heavy use. The vet was still a bit shocked by the outlandish figure, allowing the old man to speak first, "Dr. Avery, I presume? Our intermediary spoke highly of you, and my scrying corroborated as such."
"Yes, of course, I uh... So what brings you here? Our contact only said you had an 'unusual request', so I wasn't able to prepare anything if you intended to leave here with--"
Avery was quickly cut off with a wave of the old man's hand, as the robed figure continued, "I sought you out specifically for your skillset, as well as your discretion. I require an animal doctor of your background to help me with a lingering health issue plaguing one of my menagerie beasts."
The veterinarian interjected, "Menagerie beasts? Look, there's no need for coded language, are you one of those rare animal collectors? What're we even talking about, here? Most exotic creature I've ever treated is an emu, so if you have a tiger or something, you'd probably be better off scouting out some zoo vet for help on the down low. They're all tweakers."
The imposing, aged man continued, "My soothsaying was quite clear, you'd be the most capable of treating my familiar's stubborn illness. I have tried mighty elixirs and enchantments already, this perplexing issue refuses all remedy." While speaking, the wizened elder's gaze was steadfast and scrutinous. "I trust by the clandestine nature of your operation, that you are capable of being flexible, yes? Then you must set aside your preconceptions, and open yourself to the true possibilities of your calling. Consider this down payment for supplies. I am generous when pleased, Dr. Avery, but scorn me on this delicate matter, and you will rue your insolence. Your new patient will be arriving shortly."
Avery was about to indignantly rebuke the old man's veiled threat, when a burst of light like a flashbang startled him backwards. Upon rubbing his eyes of the afterimages, and inhaling the scent of sulfurous smoke, Avery beheld a neat pile of gold coins where the visitor had just been standing. Simmering in confusion, his attention was then drawn to a calamitous buzzing coming from his large animal operating room. Both drawn to, and frightened, by the coruscating lights issuing out from the closed door's edges, Avery hesitantly opened it to reveal a truly fantastical sight.
Emerging from an energetic aperture flickering about mid-air was the feather-crested head of an impossibly large eagle. The avian creature's clawed talons gingerly stepped over the portal's threshold, the huge beast having to carefully squeeze itself through. Slowly, Avery got a better glimpse of the implausible chimera's full form. Though it had the downy head of a bird of prey, and its scaly forelegs resembled avian talons, the bestial visitor's hindquarters and backlegs were unmistakably equine. Avery was flummoxed to note the animal's radical, hodgepodge composition of disparate orders. The creature's frame even hinted at a bit of feline nature through its stance, coloration, and fluffy chest down.
Suddenly, upon exiting the gateway, the feathered hybrid plopped down upon its disparate limbs and regarded him with a piercing, unwavering gaze. Avery caught himself staring deep into its golden irises, when an inexplicable, feminine voice arose from everywhere simultaneously, though the creature's feathered neck did not visibly move. "I am known as 'Lazalea', human, and I require your help."
The veterinarian wanted to chalk up this outlandish encounter to the numerous narcotics coursing through his system, but he'd accrued enough expertise and chemical endurance to parse delirium from the mundane. He could smell the creature's light, musty scent as it preened one of its fanning back wings absentmindedly, unperturbed by his awestruck stare. He felt proudly certain of his own rationality, and could not accept the bizarre beast as simply an apparition symptomatic of a psychotic break. Awkwardly milling about in shock, Avery finally asked, "W-What seems to be the issue?"
***
Days passed, and Avery had had to cordon off his entire large animal operating theater for his clandestine patient, offering only lame excuses to his daytime support staff. Though Lazalea was polite, forthcoming, and helpful, the medical professional obviously didn't have a lot of background expertise handling hippogriff physiology. Through careful analysis, Avery had determined his unlikely patient represented an entirely unknown animal order, hybridizing mammalian and avian anatomy seamlessly. Her ungulate withers transitioned into an avian upper body dramatically, defying science's systems of classification. This made diagnosing and treating Lazalea's mysterious ailment an almost impossible mission, but Avery would not concede his strange patient's well-being. Plus, the gold offered to him as down payment had been appraised to be of incredible value, though he'd likely have to sell it at a loss on the black market, since he could not vouch for the precious metal's chain of custody.
Lazalea's condition consisted of an inability to keep down food, and a persistent, numbing tingling through the side of her body, inducing an asymmetric gait on her hoofed and talon-bearing left limbs. The creature's spine appeared perfectly fit, and every test he could think to safely administer returned positive results. Knowing he was in the presence of such an unprecedented creature, Avery made sure to keep a vial of her blood in the medicine fridge for safe-keeping, for genetic analysis afterwards.
As the days of curious study progressed without breakthrough, Avery grew increasingly frustrated, though Lazalea's patience helped him stay focused. The hippogriff never complained of her illness, and seemed to be improving at least somewhat, proving better at eating the improvised feed he'd been offering her. This led to the first suspicious request from the noble beast.
It was after hours, and the vet was going over an x-ray of Lazalea's hips when her unnatural voice echoed through the room, "I've been thinking, human, and I believe my change in diet is helping my condition. However... perhaps a more radical experiment is in order? You probably don't know this about hippogriff nutritional needs, but I require a rather exotic and varied diet, a blend of various minerals, vitamins, herbs, spices and such..." The hippogriff's echoing voice trailed off awkwardly while her gazed wandered about the room. "I'm talking about KFC. Kentucky Fried Chicken, before the whole rebranding thing over the 'fried' connotations... and likely the 'Kentucky' connotations as well..."
It would be an understatement to say the fantastical beast's request for fried fast food caught Avery by surprise. The bestial patient had displayed an amazing amount of intelligence during their time together. But still, the veterinarian was caught off-guard by her apparently savvy understanding of modern dining, as well as her unhealthy cravings. "Fried chicken? But... why? Does your owner feed you fried chicken? If he's been feeding you that kind of stuff, it might just explain--"
The huge creature cut him off with a wave of her talon, before sharply replying, "No! He doesn't let me have any at all! I caught him with a whole 12 piece bucket once when he thought I wasn't around, and snaked it from him." With every word, Lazalea's tone became more irritated, her downy mane of feathers ruffled in agitation. "Not only did he refuse to get me more, he locked me in the stables for a whole week afterwards! But I never forgot the taste... Please?"
Avery really didn't know how he'd gotten talked into this, considering he hadn't bought drive-thru food since his college days. But here he was, a warm, cardboard bucket of aromatic comfort food between his legs as he drove back to the clinic. He'd gotten himself a side of mash potatoes for his trouble, but felt tempted to have one of the drumsticks before returning, before thinking better of it. His stomach was raw enough as it is, from all the strong pills he regularly took. The anxiety from harboring a mythical creature did not diminish his addictive consumption, quite the opposite, he'd been struggling worse to keep things in balance.
The veterinarian felt somehow incredibly dumb as he brought the bucket of KFC over to Lazalea's locked-off room. Here he was, popping yet another powerful animal tranquilizer to steel his nerves, before bringing this freaky bird-horse greasy food. All of this, at the behest of some creepy, Gandalf-looking motherfucker who hadn't shown up since. This isn't what he went to medical school for. At least helping such a mystical being as Lazalea was something of an adventure, though Avery had no idea just how much of an adventure he is was in store for.
"Lazalea, I brought your, uh, KFC over-- Oh, hey," Avery's announcement was cut off by the leering beak of the hippogriff, who was poised right by the door waiting for him. She decisively nipped the steaming bucket from his hands, and dropped it down on the tiled clinic floor. Despite her human-like manners earlier, the hippogriff tore into the KFC 12 piece bucket with primal ferocity, rending it to pieces with her beak, then spitting out the wet strips of cardboard afterwords. Lazalea looked both pleased and slightly unsatisfied as her long tongue played about the rim of her intimidating, curved beak, murmuring pleasantly to herself.
"Mmm, more, I want more... but that can wait. Now I want... one of those things you take, the little philosopher stones in that bottle in your pocket." Lazalea punctuated her request by pointing a sharp talon to where he kept his prescription bottle of tranquilizers and mood fortifiers.
Avery's hand defensively slipped over the side of his pants, feeling both ashamed and outraged at being called out by the huge chimera. He felt too indignant and confused to respond at first, before stammering, "I... What? No, those... those aren't for you! Besides, don't know how they'll affect your condition, there's no way I can condone this! Why do you even want them!?"
The hippogriff opened her beak and made a shrill cawing noise, that Avery somehow instinctively interpreted as a scoff, "I'm feeling much better, thanks. I see how you act after swallowing those things. They make you happy, relaxed... I want that, and don't you skimp on the dosage!" The hippogriff's wide, feathered wings flapped anxiously after her declaration, the gust sending papers flying around the sterile room.
The vet put his hands up plaintively, trying to calm down the visibly distressed bird-horse, "B-But, your illness! You can't just mess around with this stuff, the dosages have to be just right or..."
"The only thing I'm sick of, is being around that miserable Skalahad! Ever since he got that pegasus, he thinks he's too fucking good to ride around in public on a hippogriff like the poor wizards... He neglects me! I have needs, human..." Lazalea's final words came out as a low, sultry squawk. Her big, golden eyes were boring into him, reminding him of how a hawk looks at squirrels.
"Is Skalahad your owner's name? Look, I can't just let you down a fistful of tranquilizer drugs, these things are strong enough to knock out a horse!" Avery immediately balked at his own poor choice of words, as the hippogriff clopped her hindlegs excitedly upon hearing him. "If anything happened to--" Before Avery could even finish his recrimination, there was a flurry of motion and he found himself slammed to ground.
The hippogriff pounced upon the much smaller human, effortlessly holding him down with her talon-bearing claw. Her beak started nipping at his coat and pants, tearing them apart in a series of solid pecks. Knowing he was outmatched, the vet yelled, "Get off me! I'll scream for help, do you know how much trouble you'll be in if people learn a freaking hippogriff is-- Mmmphh!" Avery's words were stifled by the rough, yellow-scaled palm of Lazalea's other foreclaw, allowing her to maintain total control of his movements.
Once his pants were in tatters, and the amber-toned pill bottle rolled free, the griffon fished it up with tongue and held it before his pinned face. "Human, get this damn thing open, and I'll forgive your insolence. I can be very forgiving," Lazalea chirped, her steely grip squeezing and relaxing over him rhythmically as she lowered her palm from his mouth slightly.
Knowing he was utterly outmatched, and fearful of the beast's exuberance, Avery said, "Alright, look, fine. But let's do this right, okay? These are dosed for me... you'll need your own dosage. Let me up, and I'll quickly extrapolate the numbers for a horse your weight. T-that should work..."
The hippogriff cautiously let him stand, but then folded one of her large wings around him possessively, following him to his desk like an oversized hostage-taker. "Don't skimp on this stuff, I've been needing some relaxation like this for a long, long time. It's so boring, being cooped up in a stable all day..." Avery gulped nervously as the hippogriff's wing curled tighter around his back, like an intense, downy hug. He felt exposed in his underwear, his brown slacks reduced to a few draping shreds around his calves. "You've never seen anything like me, right? I'm special to you... I noticed you, examining me, looking over every inch of my amazing body. Did you like what you saw... under my tail? I'm not like those foul birds with a nasty, compromised sewer spout between my thighs. I'm all mare for you, human."
The overwhelmed veterinarian didn't know how to react when Lazalea slurped up the pills on the table with her dexterous tongue, then swiveled her mobile neck to clamp her beak to his face. Her avian maw stifled his screams, while her huge, wet tongue swept across his features, poking and dabbing his eyes and ears teasingly. After several minutes of clamped oral molestation, Lazalea released his head and lifted him to his feet. Subjugated and stunned by the huge creature's boldness, Avery only had the presence of mind to swipe a few remaining pills from the table and down them quickly, pharmaceutically bracing himself for whatever lay ahead. Once he was made standing, the jittery hippogriff turned to face away from Avery, then began backing up.
"Oh God, Lazalea, what..?" The big hippogriff was using her wide, equine haunches to herd him into the corner of the large animal operating room, bumping him with her squishy, velvet-furred rump. All the while, Lazalea kept batting his face with her hairy tail, filling his nose with her horsey scent. The steady clop of her hindlegs sounded loud in his ears, as his pupils dilated, and the narcotics began taking effect in both animal and man.
Once she had him pinned in the corner with her warm buttocks, the hippogriff's avian head casually turned backwards to stare at him while her tail flagged up high. "Look at me, human, look at my majestic flesh. Can you believe nobody's put this exquisite horse-pussy to work in ages? Do it, use your body, pleasure me. Cure me of my woes, doctor!" The amorous bird-horse punctuated her cawing words with driving thrusts from her behind, jostling Avery into the corner forcefully.
The drugged man couldn't help but look down under the beast's swishing tail, beholding her feminine glory. Lazalea's was every bit the philly backstairs, and her wide, fleshy vaginal lips flared and contracted before him with a lurid squelch. Avery was truly mesmerized by the hippogriff's winking, welcoming vagina, as he tentatively touched the hot, rubbery skin. Lazalea made such a loud caw at his mere touch, he patted at her withers soothingly and shushed, "Keep it down, people are going to think I'm fucking smuggling condors in here!"
"You are fucking condors in here! Give it to me, don't hold back! Rail me like the stallion you are, human!" Lazalea's heated stare was unwavering as she kept her head rotated in a perfect 180, her flexible avian neck allowing her alarmingly intense gaze. Avery was still inwardly struggling to proceed, gazing down at the massive erection tenting up his underwear. The hippogriff kept flicking her tail about his face, egging him on to fully disrobe. When she reached a feather wing back, and stroked it aside his face, the veterinarian's resolve finally broke, and he lowered his underwear intently.
This wasn't the first equine vagina Avery had encountered, considering he'd aided several births throughout his years as a rural veterinarian, but knowing it was connected to such an interesting, inexplicable creature as Lazalea emboldened him. He could feel the heat radiating from her dripping labial lips, which kept squishing tight before him in anxious anticipation. The tranquilizers in his system seemed to make every moment drag out, and the features of her bestial womanhood become even more distinctive. He could see the light fuzz lining her thick nethers, the puckered, muscular ring of her equine anus. Hand on cock, Avery