Cuckolded by Her Mother Ch. 17

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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Fyr curled her tail around her legs, knees drawn up to her chest, and stared at the egg unblinkingly. It was so innocent, sitting in its little nest of blankets, a type of swaddling that was for draconian-type eggs only. Due to the fire inside drakes and dragonesses, the eggs often required a little more warmth than expected, although she was thankful that the egg had, at least, been born in moderate months where it was neither scorching nor freezing. That would have been difficult on either end of the scale.

Of course, it was her that had learned about how to care for a dragon's egg many months back, if not years. She had made no pretence of not wanting a family with Ropes and, well, it seemed that she'd got it, even if it was a side stranger than she ever could have expected and anticipated. Perhaps it was even better than what she'd imagined with a little red and yellow dragoness running around their feet and a cougar son with tentacles just like his father.

Fyr pressed her lips firmly together. That one was a dream for another time and another life. She wasn't so sure her husband would ever sleep with her enough ever again for his seed to bear the fruit of young in her womb. Not when he had a demoness to fuck in the mortal realm, giving him everything he needed and so much more too.

No, Fyr had never been a challenge and neither had she been a conquest either. Love, yes - she had been, and still was, his love, but love simply wasn't enough for a demon who needed to feed on lust and sex, ideally daily. She'd known that when she'd married him. Yet, like every other fool in love, she'd gone head over heels over tail for a cougar who would never be hers and hers alone, regardless of the promises that passed his lips at the altar. A dragoness, much less her, could not expect that from him.

Still... The dragoness pressed her fingers to the side of her mouth, caressing her lips as if to wipe away the light smile tugging at them. She'd rather be his love in a very strange relationship than to have never met the devilishly handsome cougar in the first place. Yes, Ropes had well and truly stolen her heart and, honestly, she wouldn't have had it any other way.

Fyr's eyes drifted back to the egg as if she was being called by a higher power, eyes half cast into shadow as trouble reigned within. Something in her loins tightened and she groaned, pressing her forehead down to her knees, just so that she didn't have to look at the egg, if only for a moment. It would still be there when she dared look up once more.

Her husband's egg... Her husband's hatchling.

She shuddered and drew further into herself, shoulders cold in her sleeveless shirt, although she could not quite find the energy to source out something to keep the evening nip from her scales. That would take her away from the egg. And she had to keep watch over the egg.

The maternal instinct that had risen in her didn't seem to apply to Sasha, however, who bounded and bounced around the house, rejoicing in her smoothing, flattening stomach. As a demoness, it seemed to take her no time at all to return to her normal, trim figure, though there was something more of a sway in her hips than she could have laid claim to previously. Sasha flounced around with a new spring in her step but hardly took any interest in the egg she'd laid at all, instead spending all of her time with Ropes and...

"Fyyyyyyrrrrr!"

The dragoness winced and huddled back down into herself, mantling her wings around her shoulders like a cape that could protect her from the elements. But the only element that she needed distance from was fire and that was perfectly embodied in the heart and soul of her dear mother.

She was going to find her whether she answered or not and the dragoness sighed and lifted her chin defiantly from where she sat on the bedroom floor just as the door crashed open. Bouncing off the wall, the door juddered back into the pair stumbling in, arms and legs tangled together as a pair of blue lips crashed into darker ones.

Fyr stiffened. That wasn't Ropes. Not that she'd expected anything less from Sasha.

No, the dragoness had found herself a stud of a zebra that Fyr would have swooned at if times had been different. The beast was devoid of a shirt, his Mohawk of a mane standing straight up from the back of his neck, and he groaned lustfully into Sasha's muzzle as her paws fumbled and worked at his belt, slipping his jeans down around his hips to reveal the massive bulge in his underwear.

But Fyr's eyes did not once leave the egg, watching them only out of the corner of her eye as her naked mother pressed up against the zebra as if he was the last male on the planet, her lust unparalleled by any other moment - except the one that would follow it.

It seemed that life as a demoness certainly suited her.

"Fyr!" Sasha giggled as the zebra kissed her neck, lips plucking at scales as he just barely grazed her with his large, blunt teeth. "Fyr, I was calling for you!"

"I heard you."

Her tone was not chilly, per se, but perfectly level, the dragon not sparing her mother her time and energy as she kept her eyes fixed on the egg. But where it resided at the head of the bed was not a safe spot and Fyr leapt into action just as the lusty couple of the afternoon tumbled onto it. Swearing under her breath, she clutched it to her chest just in time, blankets trailing from her arms as she shot her mother a glare that would have curdled milk - if Sasha had not been moaning into the zebra's mouth, that was.

"Do you even know his fucking name?"

Sasha baulked, eyes flashing that striking green. Although she knew that particular look, it did not intimidate her more because her mother was a demon. Bundling the egg up carefully against her chest, Fyr glared and hissed, wings flaring up as if she too was trying to make herself seem larger and more imposing than she actually was.

"Mom! This is getting ridiculous!" She spat, smoke roiling from her nostrils, out of her control. "You need to stop this!"

The dragoness' eyes narrowed and her partner hesitated, doubt flickering in his eyes.

"Babe, I thought you said this was okay..."

"It is!" She snapped and he recoiled as if he'd been struck, scooting back across the bed from her flailing tail. "It's fine!"

And it was fine with her husband, of course, it was; Ropes would only get his pleasurable payback on her at a later date, relishing in the challenge of scoring a better, more lustful sexual partner than Sasha in their wicked little competition. No, the only one who thought that Sasha might, well, pick up some kind of motherly instinct in the presence of her egg, waiting to hatch, was Fyr herself!

The dragoness clenched her jaw so hard that a muscle jumped at the corner, the taste of smoke thick in the back of her mouth. But no manner of clenching could keep the words from spilling forth, crude and striking as if she was trying to land that final blow.

"You are a mother," she snarled, lips curling back from her teeth like a feral dog. "This egg is yours! Not mine!"

For she knew that she was merely s steward and nursemaid to the egg, treating it as her own for no one else would - a fact that Sasha seemed only too determined to demonstrate in every shape, way and form possible. Drawing herself up tall, the dragoness slipped off the bed and raised her ragged wings over her head, hissing like a snake as she clenched her paws into fists.

And yet Fyr did not flinch, half-turning her body so that she could better shield the egg, the obnoxious round of her shoulder jutting out towards her mother as if she was going to ram her. Sasha snorted and flipped her paw, the zebra trying to slink off to the back of the room, pulling his jeans up around his hips as his cock flopped out softly, arousal draining in the presence of two dragonesses who appeared, to all intents and purposes, to simply want to rip one another's throats out.

"Get out," Sasha growled, lowering her tone to something low and threatening, a tone that Fyr had never before heard from her, although she was not unfamiliar. "And you..."

She directed the last part of her utterance to the zebra who had his back pressed to the wall, frozen like a deer in the headlights as she turned her gaze on him, a simmering emerald.

"You... Stay."

The poor ungulate had no choice in the matter, seemingly, although Fyr only rolled her eyes and scoffed back in turn at her mother, digging her heels in.

"No!" Fyr said, raising her voice - maybe Ropes would hear her? "You're scaring him! Let the poor colt go, he doesn't know what the hell you've dragged him into here."

The zebra nodded fervently, though Fyr could not help but notice how he tensed, flexing his muscles as if reminding himself of his own strength in the moment. She had to fight down the urge to roll her eyes then, at him instead of her mother - as if he thought he could take on a demoness. Brute strength wouldn't be enough to best a demon, let alone one drawn up to heights of rage. Although Fyr supposed she only had herself to thank for that one.

"Oh, he's fiiiiiiine!"

Sasha's tone flipped from aggressive to breezy like the flip of a switch, the difference between bright sunshine and inky shadow. Her demoness nature, Fyr had learned, was as changeable as the weather and she held back a sigh as she matched her mother in challenge, turning her shoulders back square to face her.

"This is my house too, you know."

Fyr spoke so quietly that anyone would have had to strain to hear her but the zebra's eyes, for some reason, widened in the background of the self-orchestrated scene.

"I deserve to be here. This was my bedroom. But this is not my egg..."

She glanced down at the previous bundle in her arms, tightening her hold on it as if she was afraid that it would tumble free at the slightest bump or jostle. She had not known it was possible to feel so protective over something so small, something that could have been an inanimate object if she did not know what would come from such a precious shell.

"It's yours," she said finally, extending the pause for longer than she had intended, although Fyr wasn't so sure what her endgame was in the moment at all anymore. "And you need to look after it. So send your latest squeeze packing, would you?"

Ah, it was the throwaway words that sealed her fate ultimately as Sasha's expression switched back from softly giddy to flaring with anger, flame sparking up at the back of her maw as she roared. The dragoness tipped forward with her paws bunched up into fists and her tail lashing, striking the wall so viciously that it broke through the paint and plaster to leave a gaping, dirtied hole. Fyr gawped and took a step back, caught on the back foot for once, but Sasha was right there following, driving her back and back and back.

The doorknob ground into Fyr's side and the dragoness cursed without thinking, hunching over the egg to protect is as her mother's hot breath washed over her cheek and neck, the dragoness far, far too close for comfort. She strove to shrink away but the older dragoness followed her, blocking off her escape into the more open section of the room as she desperately avoided looking her mother in the eyes.

Maybe if she didn't look, she could pretend it wasn't happening. Maybe she'd wake up in bed with Ropes and realise that it was all a bad dream, even though parts of it surely had been delectably lustful, cherished for the sake of arousal and raw, needy kink.

Yet it was neither nightmare nor dream and not something one could wake up from so easily, the hard wood of the door grinding into her shoulder as she still strove to press away to no avail. Sasha trailed her fingers along Fyr's jaw-line, clucking her tongue mockingly against the roof of her mouth as if she was pretending, in appearances only, to offer her daughter some semblance of sympathy.

"Do as I tell you," she whispered, her voice a low, sinuous hiss curling through the scant space between them. "Or else I'll make you sorry for it."

Fyr stiffened, heart in her throat. Her mother meant it - she could tell. She'd heard similar as a hatchling with her mother, although she could not quite recall it instilling such an abject sense of fear in her heart. Her chest seemed to tighten and she dragged in breath after laborious breath with great difficulty, every scale on her body prickling with a sickly heat.

And, to her shame, she turned on her heel and fled, a deeper kind of instinct kicking in as she scrambled for the door and gasped in the comparatively fresh air of the upstairs hallway. Sasha's attention slipped from her daughter as her crimson tail whipped around the door and the zebra's mumbled excuses were not to be heard as Sasha clearly bore him lustfully back to the bed, springs complaining as Fyr raced down the stairs as if the hounds of hell were nipping at her heels, fire foaming from their slathering jaws.

The egg... She had to protect the egg...

Sasha was no true threat but there was neither sense nor time to tell that to the more primal part of her psyche that had taken hold, driving her on and on. Her mind did not understand that her mother was merely trying to get her out and gone so that she could enjoy herself without any sense of shame - that was knowledge that would only make sense later on, once she'd calmed down - but her mind knew that she had to protect the egg at all costs.

And she knew one place that was safe.

Diving into her truck, she panicked behind the wheel. Keys, keys - where were the keys? Floundering with a whine that sounded a deal more helpless than she would have liked, she had to dash back into the house, ignorant to the fact that she was not wearing any shoes, snatch the keys up from the counter, and race back outside. Ropes may have called to her or not but she ignored all to her back as she flung herself into the truck, checked that the egg was right where it should be, and slammed the beast into drive.

Peeling out of the short driveway with an obnoxious squeal of tires, the dragoness cursed and swore to no one as she hurled insults out the windows at no one at all. Passing motorists cast her confused looks as the wind carried her words to their ears, though it was all in pieces, shards of a life cast out much as she had been.

But that was not true, not really. She had a home to go back to, when she needed to return, and soon the ranch would be ready too and they could all move in. The workers seemed to have been doing double-time and going above and beyond for her, a fact that even in the midst of her distress she was incredibly grateful for. It made her job of decoration - the barn had been finished at least to her basic satisfaction - inside the main house all the easier while the finishing touches were put on the plumbing and electrics. Most of that decorating, however, followed the course of the working furs around the house, beginning on each room as they completed it. After all, there was no point in painting when they needed to get under the floorboards to finish the electrics.

Yes, the painting... She locked onto the thought, one eye on the road and the other on the egg, jostled lightly in the passenger seat. She needed a colour for his or her room soon, though there was no way to tell what the hatchling would be until they were born. Sasha, of course, had refused to visit a doctor again, not even one more experienced with furs who may or may not have been outside the normal realm of what general practice doctors were used to dealing with. That may have shown whether the hatchling within was male or female but it seemed that, as with much in their family, they were destined to linger in indecision and confusion for weeks or months until the egg itself hatched.

Fyr frowned, thoughts turned from the painting, such a simple escape that was, sadly, not to be hers. How long would it take for Sasha's egg to hatch? Again, a visit to a more experienced practitioner would show them either way but her mother simply was not willing to go through with that, shunning normal company and society in favour of Ropes and the endless stream of lovers that she seemed to have passing through.

No... No escape from the thoughts but Fyr could take her physical body away from her home, if only for a short time. The dragoness inched her hind paw down on the gas pedal and shot towards the ranch, her growing sanctuary that was very nearly the place that she would spend the rest of her home life. She'd even managed to secure extra land from a rancher who was selling off his herd and retiring to a cottage instead, somewhere where, the old dog had said, that he could sit and fish the rest of his days away.

The ranch was the only place she could go.

She could almost drive there on autopilot, although the drive still wearied her and she groaned as she pulled up, a little calmer even if she was a side stiffer. Working her neck from side to side, she tried to ease out the kinks to no avail and arched her back, stretching her arms above her head as she slithered from the driver's side.

The egg she collected into both paws, gently holding it against the warmth of the body as she hip-checked the truck door closed and followed the path that her feet led her on. She knew her little routes and paths through the barn like the back of her paw and she even had all the alfalfa and straw she needed in ready for her plan and her dream to be put into place.

She'd just never thought that her dream would come with her mother, a hatchling that was not hers and a cougar husband who was absent with others more than he was present with her. Drawing in a shuddering breath, Fyr ignored the ache in her throat, the telltale prickle in the corners of her eyes.

"Not now..."

But it was hard - no one could have said it was anything else. She had to watch her husband with her mother and, good heavens, the mix of emotions... Conflict raged when she tossed and turned in her sleep, intent to source herself a far more comfortable room once they moved into the ranch house, for Fyr had found every last lump and bump in the sofa during the course of her many, many restless nights spent there. The lack of good quality sleep was one thing, however, in comparison to the daily work that dragged her down, demands placed on her cubicle desk as she pushed through and through, management cutting down on office staff while they enjoyed bonuses and raises.

Fyr, of course, had had no salary bump that year, even if she had not really expected one. They cited all the usual reasons but the money, or lack of it, was one reason she was heading off on her own. While she was good with her paws and fixing up the ranch, just why should she have to spend her days working for furs who didn't give a darn whether she was well in her mind and body or not? No, if she was sick, she'd much rather spend it tending the orchard or perhaps watching over a small herd of cows than stuck in an office chair.

The fresh air had always been better for her anyway.

And Ropes... Her heart throbbed for the touch of her husband. Although it had not been all that long since the egg had been laid, she felt the absence of his presence keenly as he had not been around her since the egg had come into their lives, spending more time with Sasha and even more time still in the shed at the bottom of the garden. Fyr had wondered bitterly more than once whether he was in there with other furs but, for once, he seemed to have lost more than a little interest in the challenge he and Sasha were engaging in, secluding himself away for some other purpose.