Harpy and NotAnon.

Today was the day. The day that I, John Smith, would finally be going to America. It wasn’t every day that you get to cross the pond, and I was looking forward to my two week trip immensely. I wanted to see all the sights, NYC, the rocky mountains, the grand Canyon, and of course, the Intra-Species stadium. The stadium was one of the first of its kind in the world, a place where famous monster athletes could compete,  and win trophies. Monsters were banned from the Olympics after all, especially since they were stronger and faster than any human, but I digress. I had gotten up early, so that I would be able to check out the duty free, and all the other little things that make airplane travel so luxurious.



The flight over to [Insert American City close to the mountains here] was long, and a bit tedious, luckily the stewardesses kept me amazed, as did the little TV that folded out from above my seat. The pleasantries ended when I touched down on American soil. I was pulled aside by Airport security, and thoroughly felt over, and had my necklace stolen. I was then escorted into a little room at the far end of the airport by a particularly smug elf. It was rare seeing elves outside their frigid homelands of Siberia and Scandinavia, especially one that was a native to the US. I was made to sit down on the only chair, opposite a metal table. He smiled cruelly at me, and threw my necklace down on the table. “Do you have any idea what this is?”. I answered, that yes, I did know. It was the necklace that had been taken from me at the metal detectors, and never returned.




“No, This is a symbol of Palal-Ah-Din, the greatest menace to the equality between monster and man. Tell me Mr....Smith, is it? Why you’re in possession of such a vile piece of Jewellery.” I went on to explain that it was a gift from my (now ex) girlfriend from a few years back, and that it’s just a cross, not some sort of symbol of discrimination. The elf continued to ask me personal questions, and accuse me of being an anti Monster Terrorist, for the better part of an hour. 45 or so minutes in, a  strong looking female centaur briskly entered the room and stood behind me.  That bastard elf, looked at me and said, “Now Mr. Smith, I have one final question for you, what do you think of, Horse Pussy?” What. What the fuck kind of question was that? As he asked the question, the strong female centaur behind me started to roughly massage my shoulders. “Think about that question, long and hard” she whispered in my ear. I didn’t know what the fuck was going on, so I defaulted with my usual response, “People are allowed to like whatever they do, it’s none of my business, I don’t think.” Real fucking smooth, I could be a politician. The elf sheepishly apologises to me, and hands me back my necklace.  (Truth is, my family had been Paladins for several hundred generations, but since my grandmothers time, we stopped doing our duties, especially since monsters were now accepted as equal members of society. The necklace had been a gift from my mother, given to me on her deathbed)

Before I leave the airport, I go into the bathroom, to wash my face.  I look up into the mirror, and begin re-tracing my face. The manly stubble on my chin, my swept back non emo looking hair, and of course the most important part, tow green eyes, just above my nose. “Good, they’re still there”. I let out a contented sigh.  I didn’t always have eyes, or a non-emo haircut, I had to fight long and hard for them.  During secondary, I didn’t have any eyes, or even a name, I was just another [SELF INSERT] Secondary school boy, surrounded by monster women who wanted a piece of me. My determination paid off in the end, and the fact I joined the running team, and took local Tae-Kwan-Do lessons paid off, and by the time I finished secondary, I was still a virgin. By that time, the monstergirls had stopped paying attention to me, and I felt eyes grow on my face, and my generic, face covering emo haircut grew into a magnificent mane of hair, any model would be proud of.


But I digress. Walking out towards the car park at the airport exit, I began to hail a cab, before a sharp blow to my head knocked me unconscious. The sight I had awoken to had sent shivers down my spine, quite literally in fact, seeing how I was a few thousand feet high in the air, in bitterly cold conditions. The only thing that stopped me from falling were the two massive talons that had gripped my shoulders. Talons attached to a massive bald-eagle Harpy. She was staring straight ahead, quietly singing the song “I am a Real American”. I am not proud of my actions, but I did what any sane person would do in this predicament, that is to say, yell, a whole fucking lot.


“PUT ME DOWN YOU CRAZY BITCH, WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!” Were the first words that left my lips. I could say that they had the desired Impact, because the harpy’s head snapped back, eyes wide with shock, and I was dropped. Luckily the thick mountain snow (and my divine protection) cushioned my fall, and I was only left cold and wet. The harpy landed next to me, and roughly kicked me with her talon. Then she opened her mouth, “That Accent, you’re not an American are you?” I began to explain that I was from a country calle-. She just fucking kicked me right in the gut. “Oh shit, looks like I caught myself a Yuropoor, why the fuck am I always so unlucky?” She was probably thinking aloud, and I didn’t want to be kicked again. What she said next un-nerved me a great deal. “Fuck, It’ll have to do. Yuropoor, we can do this the easy way or the hard way, either you let me carry you to my nest, or I break your limbs, and drag you there, nod if you understand” So I nodded.


The short flight to her nest was totally silent, and quite awkward. I spent the day getting made fun of for being weak, for having to rely on America’s aid during world war two, and for being her bottom bitch. Then the night fell, and the temperatures fell too. I was curled up in one corner of the massive nest, not knowing what the fuck was going on, because she didn’t explain anything, and whenever I tried to ask something I was told to “SHUDDUP!”. The harpy looked over at me, shivering in my little corner, before she walked over, and put her soft, feathery wings around me. They were nice and warm, and I suddenly felt a whole lot better. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, pathetic Yuropoor, I’m only doing this because a small weak man like you needs to be protected by a strong American girl like me.”


 At some point, I must have fallen asleep, because I awoke the next day to bright sunlight, and a cheerful harpy cooking some bacon and eggs. She seemed in a much better mood than yesterday, so I built up the courage to ask her, why she had Kidnapped me. She explained that it was mating season for her, and that she wanted to get herself a handsome husband to father her children. She went on to explain how she thought that I was an American, because of my good looks (she blushed a little, then continued on briskly), and said that I would have to do for now.  After a delicious breakfast, she sat down next to me, and said “This is how it’s gonna work Yuropoor, (I had given up trying to get her to call me by my name, because she didn’t care enough to remember, at least that’s how she put it) In a week and a bit, you and me are gonna have the best sex of your life, and when I get pregnant,  you’re free to leave, especially because I don’t want any more Illegal immigrants entering the country because of me.” She gave a nervous little giggle, and began cooking up some [Insert local ‘MURRICAN cuisine] for lunch.


This wasn’t a bad deal, and I didn’t really have any choice in the matter, so I accepted her proposal. The days passed by, and I grew to eventually tolerate her brash egotistical behaviour, and she spent more time cuddling me with her wings, “because of the cold b-baka~” was her usual excuse, but I like to think that the power of the D had taken hold.  Then the day finally came. I was woken around 3PM, by a grinding against my lower leg. Alicia (that was her name by the way) was rubbing her cunt against my trouser leg, and her cute face had some drool hanging out of her mouth. “Is it time?” Was the first thing to come out of my mouth, and as those words were going out, her tongue violently slid in. That must have been the deepest most passionate kiss I had felt in a long, long time. She breathlessly took my dick, and slid herself down it. Those four hours were the best sex of my life. She ended up laying on top of me, and she whispered into my ear “America, Fuck yeah!”, before gently closing her eyes. The next day, I was ready to go back to the airport, because my flight would be leaving in two days, when my path was blockaded by a large brown wing. “You’re really leaving, huh, Yuropoor?” Alicia had a snarky tone to her voice, “Just like you Europeans (she practically spat out that word) to betray America after we’re no longer useful to you”. Was this some WWII shit again?


“What the fuck do you want, make up your mind woman, First you say that you don’t want me staying, because I don’t have a green card, and now you’re getting mad that I’m leaving? The fuck’s wrong with you”. She was a bit taken aback, before resting her head on top of mine. “If you go, I can’t really protect you anymore.....J-joh... John, and America should always protect weak little Europe, right? Please don’t leave me.” For plot convenience, I instantly changed my mind on the spot, and professed my undying love to her. As she happily kissed me, then flew off to the shops, I sighed contentedly. Wait.... Shit, I reached up towards my face, and felt the long, generic emo haircut tickling the bridge of my nose, Shit SHIT SHIT!. I ran inside her bathroom (The nest was her living room). I had to know. As I frantically looked in the mirror, I realised my eyes were gone, and my [SELF INSERT] birthmark on the nape of my neck (which had faded at the end of secondary) was a dull red colour again. “I guess It can’t be helped” Was my last thought before going back to the nest to wait for my new Harpy wife.