Cuckolded by Her Mother Ch. 06

This is a short work of erotic fiction containing furry, or anthropomorphic, characters, which are animals that either demonstrate human intelligence or walk on two legs, for the purposes of these tales. It is a thriving and growing fandom in which creators are prevalent in art and writing especially.

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Cuckolded by Her Mother

Chapter 6

Mooching around the guest bedroom, Fyr grunted and heaved the bed against the wall. The double bed frame had before been positioned more or less in the centre of the room with a thin strip of carpet between the bed and the desk. But the desk had been shunted out into the first floor hallway, half blocking the way, but she'd have to find a space for it sooner or later. Absently, she smoothed the bed spread down, wondering if she'd also be able to find a home for the bed. It was almost nicer than the one in her own room, even if it had seen its fair share of rather frisky furs in recent weeks.

The dragoness took a deep breath, red scales catching glimmering motes of dust as she scooted the desk chair up to the opposite wall. It would be nice to sleep in her own bed again, the warmth of her cougar husband pressed up to her side.

The room would have to be ready for when the baby came.

Gulping, she steadied herself, looking over the room as if seeing it for the first time. After all the time she'd spent sleeping without that warm, comforting presence at her side, she was almost sad to leave it. But it was the way it had to be and she had to do her duty. She shuddered. By herself and by them.

"You know you don't have to do this, right?"

Fyr jumped, tail slapping her calf as she whirled around. Her mother stood in the doorframe, shoulder pressed into the wood, with her lips twisted in what could have been sympathy and what could have been worry. Fyr's eyebrows knotted together, forehead creasing.

"Mom, do you have to sneak up on me like that?" Fyr grumbled, the tip of her tail twitching back and forth. "What do I not have to do?"

The blue dragoness studied her, her muzzle longer and finer than her daughter's. She kept her wings furled in tightly to her back, a long, loose cardigan draped over her shoulders as if, for once, she was trying to hide her form.

Sasha sighed.

"I'm not keeping it."

Fyr stiffened.

"You can't kill it," she hissed. "Would you have let me go?"

Her mother took a step back, the set of Fyr's jaw stirring up something deeper, more primal. If the dragoness had been an equine - like the ones she, one day, hoped to populate at least some of her barn with - she would have had her ears pinned back and a white rim of danger around both eyes.

"I would never have let you go, Fyr, but this is different." Sasha shuddered, drawing the cardigan more tightly around herself. "But to keep what should have been..."

She trailed off, lips pressed together. But the deed had been done and Fyr already knew what the unspoken words were.

"Go on." She prodded, arms folded across her chest. "Say it. Say that you fucked my husband and are now carrying his dragonet or cub or..." She screwed up her muzzle. "Whatever you call a hybrid! God, I don't even know what you'll end up birthing. Are you even far enough along for a scan yet?"

It was a ridiculously normal question to ask of a pregnant lady, but it hung between them in the air like the smoke from a fired gun - something that would have still had gunpowder packed into it. Fyr's muzzle wrinkled and she half-turned away, showing her mother her shoulder. What did she even care anyway? She'd done all she could and would surely do all she could going forward too. Yet Sasha wanted to come around and play happy families with her? Well, fat chance of that!

And yet she tried. Oh, she tried.

"If you move the bed here, or move everything out," Sasha murmured, eyes glimmering with sadness, "where will you sleep? What will you do then?"

Fyr stared at her, eyes unblinking.

"Where will I sleep?" Her daughter cackled manically and held up her paws. "Oh, I don't know - in my own goddamn bed, perhaps?"

Sasha's eyes narrowed, that old flicker of dominance rising to the surface.

"Watch that tone, young lady."

Scoffing, Fyr flipped her paw at her.

"I think all pretence of your fun has well and truly gone out the window now. Because you're not getting rid of the kid and I'm going to be the one to do right and take care of it!"

Sasha stared at her, for once lost for words.

"Why on earth would you take care of my child?"

"Oh, I don't know, because it's my husband's child too?"

The dragoness hissed and, before Fyr could react, was up against her, shoving her back to the bed. Although the backs of her calves slammed into the mattress, somehow the dragon managed to stay upright, though not entirely helped by her mother's paw curling around her shoulder. Her fingers dug in wickedly as the blue dragon pushed her muzzle right up into her daughter's face and it was a wonder that Fyr didn't quail from the prodding poke of her finger below her collarbone - a favourite move of the mother's when her daughter had been a side shorter than her.

"I've had just about enough of this attitude," Sasha hissed, fingers tightening around her daughter's shoulder. "Would you like to speak to me with a modicum of respect and then perhaps we may continue this conversation?"

Although her eyes watered - jeez, did her mother ever think to trim her claws down anymore? - Fyr forced out a thin, daring smile.

"If you don't like it, let's see if you can do something about it," she goaded her on, throwing caution to the wind. "You're the fucking third wheel here, not me."

Sasha snarled, peeling her lips back from her teeth like Ropes when he was in one of his moods and rammed her back onto the bed.

"Stay down," she growled, the look in her eye more foreboding than her words ever could have been. "I have something to teach you."

Stripping off her skirt, the dragoness held her in place with her glare, needle-sharp gaze pinning her down. Fyr's breath caught in her throat and she froze from indecision rather than fear, heart in her throat as her mother bared her well-groomed scales to the world. Well, the world that was Fyr in the little guest bedroom, that was. Her daughter dug her claws into the bed as her naked mother swung her leg over her waist, straddling her as easily as she would mount a male.

Fyr drank in the sight, momentarily forgetting why she'd been angry in the first place. It was hard to think of anything else with a hot dragon above her, even if that dragoness did happen to be her mother. In the moment, lost in lust, she could not have even said that she wished that Sasha was Ropes, her husband's tentacles undulating gently as she begged him to take her.

The dragoness shivered, her mother crooning and resting her softly-scaled pussy lips over her muzzle. How long had it been since Ropes had last fucked her? He seemed to have been more distant since she'd had to tell him that Sasha was pregnant, but that could have been her own mind playing tricks on her. Gods, she hoped it was!

Her attention was crudely dragged back to reality as Sasha grabbed her muzzle, thrusting her lips up to her already wet and dripping pussy. Instinctively, for it was not as if her mother had not made use of her between liaisons with Ropes since the announcement had been made, Fyr pushed her tongue out against her clit with an instant reaction that could have been mistaken for eagerness. Above her, Sasha groaned encouragingly, anger melting with the caress of her daughter's tongue.

And what else could Fyr do, but lap and hope she would be granted some relief herself? Closing her eyes, she blocked out the sight of her mother rocking and grinding above her, one paw already cradling her belly as if she could feel the swell of it growing. It wasn't worth frustrating her mind when she could instead lose herself in raw, blinding sensation.

"I would never have gotten rid of the little one," she purred, rocking her hips over Fyr's muzzle. "I just wanted to see how invested you were in their future."

Fyr's cheeks burned, nose grinding up against her mother's clit as her tongue was forced into her pussy. So it was all just a game? What kind of a sick dragon was the creature - the dragoness who'd birthed her, nonetheless? Her paws, flat on the bed, curled into fists, claws biting into her palms even as her tongue lapped and licked to the rhythm of her mother's moans and sighs.

She could have given in. She could have submitted and everything would have been fine.

And yet she didn't.

Her paws were on Sasha's thighs before she knew it and the dragoness put all the strength in her shoulders behind the thrust. Driving her mother off her with the flip of her body, Fyr slapped her tail down over the edge of the bed and stormed to her feet as the older dragon tumbled to the floor with a grunt, eyes brimming over with surprise.

"You think this is a game? You think this is still fun?" She snarled, hating the tremble in her voice even as she bravely forced out the words that she

Sasha blinked, lips parted in a small 'O' of surprise. Her mind didn't seem to have quite caught up to where her body was and she shifted onto the side of her hip, knees bent and tucked up to the side of her. For all appearances, it was as if she had intended to sit down on the threadbare carpet all along, but Fyr advanced in the small space, paws hanging limply at her sides.

Traitorous tears welled up in her eyes and she blinked them away furiously, rubbing the back of her paw across her eyes. The motion was far from discreet, however, and Sasha reached for her, fingers trailing through the air even as her daughter's paw ached to slap them away.

Too much. It was all just too much.

"Fyr..."

"No! This isn't the time for you to talk!"

Sasha quieted, paw falling back to her lap. The gleam of moisture on her barely visible pussy lips suddenly seemed entirely out of place in the erotic scene that had turned so dark so swiftly.

"This isn't a game," she said, swallowing the sobs that threatened to flood to the surface. "And this was never meant to happen. I should never have told you about that dream! Then nothing like this would have happened! This is all your fault! You should have known better than to start something like this - and now look where it's gotten you! Where it's gotten us! My husband! Me!"

Clenching her fists, she tipped forward, chest heaving. Her lips parted, breath dragged into her lungs purely to fling out more truths - well, it wasn't as if it was never going to come out anyway - but the words that cut across her stopped her in her tracks.

"That is quite enough, Fyr."

Stalking into the bedroom, her cougar husband took Sasha's paw and helped her to her feet. His tentacles wrapped around her, slipping down to the small of her back as if to support her, although she was quite steady on her own two feet. Smiling up at him, Sasha leaned into the cougar, only then casting Fyr a wary gaze that yet still somehow rang with the faintest hint of respect.

Breathing shallowly, Fyr's heart pounded, a driving thrum that seemed to tighten around her throat with every pulse of fresh, hot blood through her veins. Staring at her husband, she shook her head slowly from side to side, yet could not see him in any other light than she had in their years of marriage and dating. He still had the same quirk to his black lips and the same gentle, cheeky wave to his tentacles that seemed to go with him wherever he went. His wife trembled, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes.

Why couldn't he see her as she saw him?

"What are you doing?" She spat out the words as if they left a foul taste in your mouth. "This is between me and her. Not you."

Ropes raised an eyebrow as the dragoness puffed up her chest, filling her lungs with air as if the act alone would make her seem bigger than he was. It may not have had any effect on her physical appearance, but it was enough for the mental side. Fyr clenched her jaw and concentrated on breathing slowly and evenly, staunchly avoiding her mother's eyes. The dragoness would wait. And then she could deal with her as she needed to.

Yes, it would come right.

Stronger, she straightened her back and fixed her husband with a steely glare that would have made a lesser male quail.

"Get out."

He met her eyes levelly, a shiver in his white whiskers. His pale eyes glowed faintly.

"No."

"That's the wrong answer."

Laughing, Ropes threw his head back, a tentacle slithering over Sasha's hip and tucking itself between her thighs. As if operating purely on instinct, the dragoness spread her legs for him and moaned as the slender length teased between her pussy lips, only to be closely followed by the cougar's paw. His fingers sank into her warmth with a lewd squelch of arousal and Sasha's head tipped back, lips parted breathily and wings stretching out slowly on either side of her body.

Something, she could not have said what, rose in Fyr's throat and the dragoness opened and closed her mouth several times. She could not deny the heat in her belly - a traitorous enjoyment of the erotic scene laid out before, a veritable feast for the eyes - but why did he have to be so obstinate about it? And obtuse, to boot, too! She blinked away moisture from her eyes, refusing to acknowledge the source. It could have been so good and yet it had all gone so wrong, oh so very wrong. Sobs choked in her throat, pressure building as if an invisible paw was squeezing down and down, forcing her to gulp in huge, childlike breaths with her eyes bulging and nostrils puckering unappealingly.

"Didn't you hear me?" She choked out, voice trembling. "I said for you to get out!"

Ropes chuckled and turned his back on the dragoness that he had promised the world to, tail flicking back and forth as if absentmindedly.

"Fyr, this is my house. And, if you want me to leave so badly, why don't you look away?" He smirked. "You're staring like this is your favourite soap opera and, honey, you're not the star here."

She started, yet neither Ropes or Sasha paid her any mind as the cougar stripped off his T-shirt and jeans. They had been casual enough for the house, yet framed his perfect body in the best way possible - if making him look like they should have been ripped from his body was the best way, of course. His boxers hit the floor a moment later and he hissed softly as Sasha's lips met his, his fingers beneath her chin tilting her muzzle up and into the kiss. And, in that moment, the entire outside world seemed to melt away from the two of them, leaving only a dragon and a cougar who needed one thing and one thing only from one another.

Fyr would have liked to have said that she snarled and spat and turned tail and ran, but that would have been a lie - an outright, bald-faced lie. Like the helpless cuckold she was, if she was so bold as to give the beast its proper term, she could only watch and close her legs against the flow of arousal dampening her pussy lips, warm and eager for attention.

Her husband trailed his fingers softly across

"Is there any dragoness more beautiful than you?" He whispered huskily.

Fyr started. Had he forgotten she was even there? Opening her mouth, she let out a soft murmur of surprise, but closed it again quickly, sealing back any words that may have made a rude appearance. Something in her begged her to be quiet, to not spoil the moment between them, and she whined silently, putting a paw on each shoulder with her arms crossed over her chest. Regardless of the physical stance she adopted, however, there was no protecting her heart from his onslaught.

There never had been.

Chuckling warmly in return, Sasha ran her claws lightly through the fur atop his head and down the back of his neck. Ropes purred and leaned into her touch like a domesticated house cat and yet there could never have been anything so tame about him.

"Oh, you'll have a dragoness all wet and ready and blushing for you, if you keep talking like that," she murmured, one eyebrow raised. "How do you not have all the eligible young ladies in town knocking at your door already?"

He grinned.

"Maybe because I only have eyes for the one right before me?"

Murmuring her appreciation, Sasha took his paw and pulled him back with her until her legs hit the side of the bed. A choked sound gurgled up from Fyr's throat, but she clapped her paw over her lips, ogling the couple as if they were going to jump up and tell her it had all been one massive joke all along. But that was never going to happen.

Licking her lips, Sasha crooked her finger at the cougar, whose tentacles fluttered and danced around him, eager to slide along her limbs and caress the curves they had gotten to know oh so well.

"Come here, stud-kitty and I'll show you a better time than she ever could have," Sasha giggled and winked up at him, sitting on the edge of the bed.

As Ropes' cock swelled with blood, the uncut feline length begging for attention that the dragoness was only too eager to give, Sasha wrapped her fingers delicately around the base. Her muzzle dipped to the head of his cock and Fyr stared, entranced, as her mother's long tongue snaked out and caressed the length, from the base to the tip. More sinuous and tantalising that she could ever have been, she traced the length of his shaft with her long tongue before, finally, allowing the head to push between her lips, taking him into her slender, dragon muzzle. Above her, Ropes groaned and bucked his hips, a tentacle whipping around to rub adoringly over the dragoness' head and muzzle. Fyr shivered. He never did that for her.

It should have been her biggest fantasy made reality, her mother languidly bobbing her muzzle on her husband's cock right in front of her, a sight that she had, of course, seen many, many times over the course of the last few months.

But sometimes one had to wake up from a dream - however good it was.

"No!"

Fyr shouldered her way between them, heart pounding and eyes watering.

"You've already gotten her pregnant," she hissed, shocked by the sheer amount of venom in her own voice. "Isn't that enough? Isn't all of this enough?"

Ropes stared at her, his upper lip curling back from the line of his teeth as he snarled. She almost took a step back, but somehow managed to hold her ground, paws clenched into fists and scales just about to tremble right off her body from how terribly she shook. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sasha reach for her and automatically stiffened, but something in the cougar's eyes must have warned her to keep her paws to herself as the flicker of blue scales retreated swiftly.

Straightening her back, Fyr met his eyes squarely, dimly aware of how her T-shirt had pulled down over her shoulder. Dressed as if she was about to be dragged out of her clothes, the dragoness gulped and shivered, tail curling back against the bed, although she was subtly careful to keep it from touching either her husband or her mother. She suppressed her grimace, lips only marginally twitching. Despite having her muzzle in the crotch of both - and far more in the case of her husband - she couldn't have possibly fathomed letting her scales touch either one of her little family when every nerve-ending in her body screamed at her to get away.

The cougar's ears flattened ever so slightly and her heart leapt, mimicking something more akin to its regular steady beat.

Ah, she had him.

"This stops," she said in as strong of a voice as she could manage. "You should have known well enough when to stop. But you didn't. So I'm telling you now. And you can darn well listen to me this time, Ropes!"

She licked her lips, a flicker of smugness warming her chest as her paws loosened, fingers curling out from their aching clench. Little indents had been left in her palms from her claws and she flexed them, working out the soreness as she waited for her husband's answer. But it could only go one way - that was, if he wanted to keep her.