Cuckolded by Her Mother Ch. 13

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 Thirteen

"Sasha, I think it's time to face the music."

Fyr paced back and forth in the living room, forehead knotted and tail swinging anxiously behind her. Her mother slouched on the sofa and frowned, wings bundled against her back as if she was cold. But the weather was fine and sun slanted through the window, a Sunday morning that should have been, by all meanings of the word, relaxed.

But their conversation was far, far from relaxed. Fyr had deliberately waited until Ropes had gone out - the cougar had suddenly found a penchant for jogging, though she suspected that his eyes were on the other joggers rather than some manner of introspection - before broaching the subject. And it had hardly been an easy one to broach on such a glorious day. If it had been any other day with any other questions to ask, Fyr would have been in good spirits, perhaps bustling around the house to make her environment just a little bit fresher and cleaner ahead of her working week.

Sasha scowled like a teenager, arms stubbornly folded. In one sense, she'd never looked so young, but that youth radiating through her features as if from the fountain of all youth itself had the effect of turning her mind back to her younger years along with her body. It hadn't taken Fyr long to notice it, with how her mother had reverted to all the things she'd used to love, the metal bands and even the snazzy fast car she'd bought from her savings (Fyr preferred her truck any day of the week). The scowls and frowns and rolls of the eyes were something she could have done without, but they were there too as very clear evidence of what was going on. Fyr just could hardly believe it had taken her so long to work out the truth of the matter.

For that youth was a similar sort of youth to what Ropes boasted, being a demon and all. The problem was that he was no longer the only demon in the house.

"I really don't know what you're talking about, Fyr. This is utterly ridiculous and you should know it."

She stood, spreading her ragged, torn wings as her eyes glowed green, just for a split second. The glow had not yet taken hold permanently, but she would have some explanations to make to friends and, no doubt, family when they became a permanent feature. That was, of course, if she didn't want to suffer the itching of wearing contacts just to go out of the house.

"In fact," she said, voice taking on a low, sultry tone. "Perhaps you need me to show you just where your place is all over again, Fyr. You have gotten rather big in your britches these days, haven't you?"

It wasn't a question that Fyr was intended to answer, but she drew herself up tall all the same, wings raised and shoulder blades back. The effect made her look larger and taller than usual and her mother hesitated for a split second. That split second was all Fyr needed to take back control of the situation. It was funny how easily it came to her in the crux of the moment, when she really, truly needed to put the world back to rights again.

Maybe she'd had the ability to be the dragoness she'd always wanted to be all along.

"No. No, I do not," she growled, paws clenched into fists as she stared her mother straight in the eye. "Sit the hell down. You know this needs to come out and it's coming out right now."

To her surprise, Sasha flounced back onto the sofa, tail curled sulkily around her ankles. Taking a deep breath that did little to steady her nerves, Fyr pressed on.

"That egg is having an effect on you."

Not the most eloquent sentence, she had to admit, but Sasha knew exactly what she meant. Even if she hadn't said anything out loud about her changes and condition, not seeming worried at all even after the appointment with the doctor, Fyr knew that she knew that something irreversible, if not terrible, was happening. And yet she refused to acknowledge it, say the words out loud that both of them knew would, eventually, have to come out.

Some truths were harder to take than others.

"Sasha."

The blue dragoness turned her muzzle away stubbornly.

"Mom?"

She glanced at her daughter, a minor concession.

"You're turning into a demon." Fyr clenched her teeth. "Or you're most of the way there already."

Sasha laughed hollowly.

"See, darling, I told you that Ropes and I were meant to be together."

It was a low blow and not even one that was supposed to be sexily dominant, but one that was intended to sting and bite and cut her down into nothing, nothing at all. Fyr shook her head, refusing to be swayed even as that little voice in the back of her mind piped up that maybe, just maybe, her mother was actually better suited for Ropes now than she was. But that was a thought that could be taken care of another day.

"You two make a wonderful couple." Oh, it sounded false even to her ears, but she had to try, she had to do her best. "This is more serious than who's suited to who. If you're turning into a demon, that would explain the changes in your body. And it can't just be because you're having sex with a demon of lust, because then I would have changed before Ropes and I even got married."

Sasha rolled her eyes and puffed a cloud of smoke.

"And why does this affect me? Why should I care about any of this?"

"Because it's you!"

Fyr exploded, voice rising into a blood-curdling scream that could have ripped through a fur with more efficiency than a razor blade. Balling up her paws into fists, she snarled and flapped her wings, tail lashing the air as if she was about to launch herself into battle - and against her own mother nonetheless!

"You should care about this, because it's the egg inside you that's causing your change! It's not hormones or anything that we can explain with conventional medicine, but something otherworldly! And you need to understand that!"

"What if I already understand it?" Sasha demanded, eyes flashing. "What if it just doesn't make any difference to me either way? I'm going to have this egg whether you like it or not! And I'm going to spend the rest of my days with Ropes too!"

Fyr snorted.

"Well, you may very well do that, mom, but, yes, you should care about your whole body and life changing. You think you can waltz back into your old job later looking like that? I'm sure you'll be having me look after the hatchling when we're out on the ranch and that'll be a lot more private for you there, but it won't solve the problem of you walking around actually looking like a demon!"

Her mother glared at her, the smoke thickening in a cloud around her head.

"Ropes does," she snapped. "Ropes gets around just fine and he has all those tentacles!"

Fyr sighed and rubbed her temples with her fingertips, though there was nothing that would get rid of the pounding, driving headache without a good, solid night of sleep. And the sofa just wasn't cutting it in that regard anymore.

"Furs here are used to Ropes now and he did a lot in the community to get people to accept him," she said slowly, sounding each word out as she released them from her lips in the hope that her mother would better understand. "He had to do a lot of work to get things to this point and he only did it because I asked him to. He would have been more than happy to just be a recluse if I'd let him."

"Maybe you should have let him," Sasha hissed. "He'd be a better cougar for it!"

"And a cougar that wouldn't be out enjoying a jog today either," Fyr countered. "He gets to do more things he enjoys and, though he hates that job, he makes good money and is moving up the ladder. He'll have good experience from that place and it'll take him forward in all he wants to do when he finally gets to turn his back on the office, though I hope that is sooner rather than later for his sake. Do you know where demons usually work in this world, mom?"

Sullen, Sasha was silent.

"They work where we don't see them. In the dark, in the sewers, all the dank, nasty jobs that no one wants to do. And then there's the seedier side, the one that no one, not even they, would want you to know about."

She took a deep breath, chest heaving. It did little to get much needed breath back into her lungs, but she ploughed on regardless, determined to get everything out once she'd begun.

"You think Ropes is the only one to be sent on his way for what he did? He found a better life here and many others have too, because it's not a world half of them want to live in once they've found another! And that comes with all the warts and shit that our mortal world has in it too! Is that the life you want for yourself? Your hatchling?"

Sasha hunched her shoulders, wings mantling over her back as she shrank back into herself. With a stomach that rounded and large, however, it was impossible for her to make herself much smaller than she actually was. Her uneven wings added to the effect, the tip edged with something like a claw that seemed like it would have been perfect for hooking into buildings or cliff-faces, a demonic touch that drew on instincts that were perhaps out of date in modern society.

"What? Nothing to say now?" Fyr laughed, although there was no humour in her tone. "Figures. Your body wants sex and that's all it wants right now. But you have to start looking at the big picture and do what you can to make this life work for you now."

"I don't have to listen to you!" Sasha snapped, cheeks hot and tail swinging. "You're just my daughter."

"I'm probably the only one who can help you now, besides Ropes, who is the second best fur to help you understand how your body is going to look and feel completely different."

Fyr sighed and lowered her wings. She hadn't even realised just how high she'd raised them, making them full as if she was cupping the air of the skies beneath them, soaring somewhere from which she never had to return from. She closed her eyes. Oh, if only that was true.

But their lives had changed for better or for worse and it was about time they faced the music.

Her mother, however, was not ready to face the music. Standing, Sasha growled threateningly, a thick, rolling growl that rumbled up from the pit of her belly with every drop of terror she could put into the sound present and accounted for. Clenching her jaw, Fyr held her ground and tilted her chin up defiantly.

Bring it on. Not like it's anything I haven't done before.

"Fyr, if you're going to throw around accusations like this," she snapped, head tossing haughtily, "I'll just head off out and see just how you think furs are going to treat me. I wager it'll be no fucking different to how they always treated me before. And why is that? Because I haven't changed! I haven't changed one bit!"

Fyr swallowed her sigh. It wasn't the time. But she'd expected the denial. Ropes had struggled to fit in too, though his arms had always been warm at the end of a hard day, tentacles winding softly around her to hold her close as he murmured sweet nothings to her and said he was sorry. And he always was. She could tell by his eyes. They were and always would be his biggest tell.

Sasha flounced across the living room, any intimidation she'd build up dissipating in the moment of her acting like a scorned, moody teenager. Fyr thought she was going to make it all the way to the door for a moment, but her mother wheeled around at the very last moment, jaws parted as if to show off her teeth. Her daughter suppressed her smile.

Oh, their attitudes are so similar. It's strange to see Ropes reflected in her, but it must just be how all demons are. A strange trait to have for those in the realm of the immortal.

"No, this is my home. I'm not leaving, I'm not going anywhere," she snarled. "You get out."

Fyr glared, meeting her head to head. Well, she could do that. She could do that very easily.

"Gladly! You need some time to cool the hell down."

Sasha snorted and jabbed her tail in the direction of the door.

"Just get out. I'll tell you when you can come back. If you can come back."

She didn't mean it. Even as she shrugged her coat over her shoulders - it was still a bit nippy out even with the weather improving - Fyr growled and shot her mother one, final parting look as she thundered out the door.

No, if her mother meant it, there would be smoke pouring from her nostrils and maw, eyes flashing even without the green glow that had become commonplace, obscuring her beautiful orbs. If she meant it, she'd be lunging for her daughter with her jaws agape, temper getting the better of her just as it had with Ropes in their earlier years together. Oh, he'd snarled and gone for her, but his true nature had always overcome the demonic one just in time, as terrifying as it had been before she'd gotten the measure of him. The fact that she wasn't acting like that and avoiding the situation entirely in sending Fyr away meant only the one thing.

Sasha was scared.

And that was perhaps more horrifying than anything else she could have been.

Where to go, where to go? Fyr blinked at her truck, exhaustion rolling over her in a wave. It took it out of her, fights like that, and would have taken it out of a stronger or weaker fur all the same. But there was one place she could always go to rest and recover and find a little bit of herself in peace and quiet once again.

The ranch.

She knew the route there like the back of her paw and drove there in the rattling, old truck on complete autopilot. A string of coppers on a chase could have flown by her and she wouldn't have noticed, so caught up was she in her own world, though it had long ago ceased to be a little one. Before she knew it, she was pulling up by the barn, thinking that she really needed to get a gate at the main entrance for that driveway had whipped by too quickly. She refused to acknowledge just how far down her hind paw had been on the gas pedal for the duration of the entire trip.

The barn was nearly finished, all ready for the animals she could fill it with, and she was sure she could find a grant to get her started. Agriculture was such a dominant part of the wide open plains that it wasn't really a spot that anyone thought to go to make it big - not after the gold rush of years on years gone by, at least. The country was so infatuated with big cities and the promise that those held that the majority seemed to have forgotten about any kind of world that was not made of concrete, sidewalks framing the runway for metal modes of transport while the furries who made it so teetered on tiny pathways.

Fyr sighed. Her dream was coming together, but the rest of her life seemed to be shattering even as she put it, piece by piece, into place. She could make the ranch work, whether she had help or not. That was why they'd restricted their spending so much, just so they could have that dream come to some sense of reality, sooner rather than later too.

And just how well did a second demon in their family factor into that dream?

She shook her head, finding her way into the barn without really thinking. The ranch house was going up at a good pace too. She'd have to get started on work there soon too, though she'd miss the background bustle of activity up there while she was getting the barn sorted. It made her feel just a little less alone while she was grinding away at all the repairs that needed to be done.

No, there'd be three demons in the family, if her suspicion was correct, when that egg finally was hatched. Did it count as a demon before Sasha laid it? She could not have said. It was hardly an area that she claimed to be an expert in, although she'd appeared to become the de facto one.

A few straw bales remained and Fyr scooted one over to the wall, dragging it easily as she slipped her calloused fingers beneath the twine. It wasn't the most ladylike look, but appearing feminine had fallen by the wayside as she worked to support her family and those that she had seen as her betters but now needed her to be the better one, the stronger one. Hell, she had to be the mortal one out of all of them, just to make sure that they had some kind of life left for them in a world that, understandably, struggling to understand demons and their very purpose in it.

She still remembered, vividly, how many had run screaming from Ropes while the demon retreated further and further into himself, a mere shadow of the cougar he had been before she got him to go out and be himself again. That had been a trial and a half, but they'd made it there, in the end.

She perched on the bale, but did not lean back against the wall, making her effort in dragging it there in the first place altogether futile. Fyr laughed hoarsely, licking her lips. It was strange how things like that worked out, much like other, even stranger things.

The dragoness blinked, traitorous moisture squeezing from the corners of her eyes as she huddled into herself. Damn it, she had said she wasn't going to cry! But everything was just so strange and she'd been so strong and held her head up high even through the strange and she couldn't believe that even more strange was coming her way. Grunting, she fought to swallow her tears, emotion bubbling up and up and up. Even the word 'strange' sounded...weird and there was no other she could put in her place, except to let that one ricochet off the inside of her skull and say that it was all strange, strange, strange, strange.

Horribly so. So, so very horribly so. Fyr gulped, choking on a sob. Would the strange ever end? Would she ever have a normal, simply nice life again, the one she'd envisioned since she was a hatchling herself? Would that dream ever be truly hers, or would it be forever modified by a demonic presence that dominated her every waking thought and slumbering dream

"Ma'am?"

Fyr lifted her head sharply from her paws, nostrils flaring. The stoat that had had a few nice conversations with her through the course of her doing up the ranch stood just outside the stall door, though their chats and smiles had been interrupted somewhat by her mother on her recent trips to the ranch. He cleared his throat, covering his mouth with a closed fist, and shuffled uncomfortably, shoulder brushing the door frame.

The dragoness groaned inwardly. She'd forgotten that she wasn't alone on the ranch.

"Hey?" She muttered. "So sorry to be like this. What can I do for you?"

Hesitantly, the stoat twisted his cap in his paws. It struck her all of a sudden how those paws were a lighter shade than the fur on the rest of his body.

"I hate to intrude, ma'am, but I think the real question here is what I can do for you. Are you quite alright there?"

Fyr's lips twisted and she straightened to stretch out her back, wings spreading so that she could lean all the way back into the wall and allow it to support her, just a little. It seemed to take some of the weight off her shoulders, a small sigh escaping her lips without her actively thinking about sighing or the thought to do so even crossing her mind. She supposed she was lucky that breathing was a subconscious activity, however, and smiled wryly at herself and her own folly.

"I'm sorry, you really shouldn't have seen me like this. I am fine, really, thank you."

And that should have been the end of it, even as a couple more horrible tears rolled down her cheeks, just an aftershock to the pain coursing through her midsection. It wasn't a pleasantry, him asking her if she was okay, and she'd lied through her teeth. As a worker on her ranch, at least temporarily, he should have taken it at that and turned on his heel. And yet, the stoat didn't. For some reason, he stayed right where he was and took a deep breath, narrow chest expanding and expanding until he looked like he couldn't hold any more air.