Cucolded

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 Fourteen

"You...want to go out to a club?"

Fyr blinked at her mother, perched on the arm of the sofa in an old pair of jeans and a T-shirt that hugged her figure in all the right places. Sasha had been encouraging her to dress a little more appropriately for her body type, saying that she had more to show off than she realised, but that didn't stop Fyr feeling like a dress-up doll every time her mother got her paws on her. That said, the older dragoness did have some kind of fashion sense and not everything she put together was completely out of sync with her character.

Okay, maybe the metal band shirts were a little too far, more suited to Sasha than Fyr, but at least she could veto the ones she didn't like. Fyr shivered. At least for the moment. She wasn't sure just how far the dragon's control over her would stretch with her mother fucking her husband day and night without rest or respite.

The whole situation was kind of messed up and her daughter wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

"Yes, a club, sugar," Sasha repeated, drawing Fyr back to the present; it was too easy to slip off into her thoughts those days. "It'll be fun. See some fresh meat!"

"Fresh...meat?" Fyr wrinkled her snout and shook her head. "What in heaven's name do you mean by that?"

Sasha smirked and tapped the side of her muzzle.

"Oh, just a little bit of friendly competition," she said, as evasive as ever. "Ropes thinks he can best me, but, well, we're going to soon see who the real victor here is!"

"What do you -"

But Ropes didn't give her a chance to answer, bursting into the room with a pleased growl on his lips.

"Sasha!"

"Ropes!"

The dragoness flung herself into his arms as if she had not seen him in months, the cougar's tentacles wrapping around her as well as his strong, muscular arms. Nuzzling her cheek warmly, the cougar purred and held her as tightly and as close to him as a long-time lover, though the time they spent together was increasing by the day. Fyr bit her lip. Sometimes she wondered if she'd ever had the level of intimacy with her husband that her mother seemed to have with him as her newest and supposedly most lustful lover.

"What do you think?" She asked, stepping far enough away from him to do a little twirl. "Am I dressed up enough for what you have in mind?"

The cougar smirked lewdly, taking in her ripped black shirt with no shoulders and the skirt that showed off her long, youthful legs. On a dragoness of her age and, dare one say, wisdom, it should have seemed out of place, but the look was only complimented by her torn and ragged demonic wings, making the younger outfit fit her like a glove.

Fyr sighed.

"Look, mom, you already terrified Scott at the barn," Fyr reminded her. "Do you really want to be flaunting it around everywhere that you're a demon now? Is that really the way you want to go with this?"

She said it as if there was only one sensible option - to stay out of the limelight until things had, at least, settled down a little more with her condition - but Sasha wasn't having any of that.

"Oh, that stoat is fiiiine," she said dismissively, waving a paw. "He stopped hyperventilating after a while. Kind of cute too..."

"Mom! Isn't one guy enough?"

The dragoness' eyes glimmered wickedly.

"Oh, my dear, that is where you're quite wrong," she said smoothly, as if she'd been waiting for Fyr to instigate the need for the comment all along. "But that's something you'll see later. We do want to make her wait until later, don't we?"

Ropes bobbed his muzzle, though his eyes had locked on to Fyr's. His wife froze under the scrutiny - even her tail was still - as time seemed to slow, heartbeat pounding viciously in her ears.

It had been a long time since he'd looked at her quite like that. It had been a long time since he'd looked at her properly at all.

Taking a deep breath, Fyr dragged her gaze from his. Hell, that was intense!

"If you don't want to tell me, have it your way," she grumbled, flipping her paw in unconscious mimicry of her mother. "But I take it I'll be there chaperoning you two to make sure you don't get into trouble? Designated driver and all that?"

Nodding slowly, Sasha seemed to be trying to keep a smirk off her lips.

"Yes, you will make an excellent designated driver. Not that I expect we'll be drinking all that much, but what we have planned will leave us

Ropes grinned.

"You can keep count too." His eyes simmered, tail twitching. "Fyr, you don't mind keeping count, do you?"

The dragoness raised an eyebrow, standing up a little straighter.

"I think you may well just have to tell me what I'm keeping count of first, husband of mine."

"Ropes!" Sasha butted in before the cougar could answer, his lips halfway toward forming a reply. "She doesn't need to know that. At least not yet. Fyr's taking count for us regardless of what it's for, aren't you there, honey?"

Rolling her eyes, Fyr's shoulders slumped forward, all sense of rebellion or control over the situation going well and truly out the window.

"Yeah, of course, I am. Of course."

Sasha petted her condescendingly on the head, giggling as her daughter pulled away in disgust.

"Mom!"

"That's my draggie," she cooed. "Now go find something a little more club-appropriate upstairs, would you? I don't want you to show either of us up!"

Sighing, Fyr shook her head. It was clearly going to be a long day. Or, rather, a long night.

But what more could a submissive cuckold wife do but obey?

*

The city club - Tails and Scales - pounded with music, bodies coming together in the beat and grind of dance and lust. Lights flashed and every fur in there seemed years younger than Fyr, let alone Sasha. She tugged uncomfortably at the hem of her T-shirt, cut off across her stomach, which Sasha had picked out for her and near enough wrestled her into.

"I'm really not sure this is appropriate," she'd muttered, cheeks flushed. "Can't I just wear something...I don't know...more comfortable?"

"Appearances are everything," Sasha had only proclaimed in return, flouncing off to check that Ropes was also dressed to her specifications, even if guys typically had it easier than females when it came to dressing for going out. "And I won't have you embarrassing me. Finish getting ready!"

She shouted back over her shoulder and Fyr stuck her tongue out at her retreating backside as she fished aimlessly through the jewellery that her mother had laid out for her. None of it was her usual style and she eventually threw on a couple of pieces, if only to appease the wrath and determination of her sly mother. For she still didn't know what the dragoness was up to even in the heaving mass of the club, sweaty bodies grinding onto one another as if it was their last night on earth. Although, if it really was her last night on earth, Fyr would have preferred to spend it with considerably fewer furs. Maybe just her husband. And her mother too, she supposed, would have to be there. But it certainly wasn't the end of the world and just her thoughts running rampant, so the dragoness shook herself, jewellery rattling lightly around her neck, and painted on the best smile for her lover and mother that she could.

"Here!"

Sasha shouted over the music, pressing a fruity cocktail into Fyr's paw. The dragoness wrinkled her nose at it but took a sip anyway. Such a girly drink really wasn't her forte, especially when her mother and Ropes were both enjoying top shelf vodka. She gnawed her lip. Just where had the money for such an extravagance come from?

It wasn't a question she could ask of them.

"Hold our drinks while we dance, Fyr!" Sasha smirked, passing all glasses to her, her own barely touched as Ropes' whiskers twitched with that faint air of tipsiness, the atmosphere getting to him more than the drink. "You'll do that, won't you? Be a good draggie for us?"

Fyr stiffened. Such a childish name! Why did she have to call her that, although it was, admittedly, a recent development? Fyr shook her head, but held the drinks regardless, lips pressed together into a thin, unattractive line. Not that either of them noticed, of course, Sasha grabbing Ropes' paw as she hauled him off to dance, as light on her hind paws as Fyr had ever seen her.

Turning more demonic - not fully demon as yet, but well on her way - had only done wonders for Sasha's demeanour, the dragoness flaunting and floating her way through the club as if she owned it. And Fyr's husband followed behind her like a puppy, tail and tentacles flicking languidly. It must have been a club chosen for its welcoming nature, or perhaps others just thought Ropes' tentacles were a fashion choice, for those around seemed to take little notice of the demons in their midst. Sasha even got a few claps on the back and Ropes a few whoops for their presence, supposedly, or at least their attire.

Fyr blinked. Maybe attitudes towards demons were changing after all. Scott hadn't seemed too put out by the fact that her mother was a demon.

She winced. Scott. Yes, the stoat. That had been something and a half to explain as her demonic mother raged into the barn, Fyr sure that she had had her heart and soul set on tearing it down to the ground. She still didn't quite know, in hindsight, just how she'd managed to calm her mother, but she was thankful that she had been able to nonetheless. She could only imagine how quickly things had gone south if she had not been able to do what she'd done.

And Scott. Her heart twisted in an unfamiliar fashion, but she didn't pause to consider just why that was. The stoat had been a shoulder to lean on, if only for a short while, and he'd done such wonderful work on the structure of the ranch house too. Though she doubted, after her mother's demonic appearance, that he would appear again after all.

Fyr sighed. The company had been nice if only for a short time. Maybe that was the most she could hope for.

I should join a book club or something, she thought, eyes scanning the dance floor to track her husband and mother once again. Get out and see other people. Especially as I won't be at work much longer. Not that anyone there is really all that chatty unless it's about pop culture and all that garbage.

She didn't see the irony in the statement as she continued scanning the crowd for those familiar faces. And yet those familiar faces simply didn't seem to be there.

"Mom?"

Fyr set the glasses down, heart hammering. Where was her mother? Where was Ropes? Shouldering her way through the crowd, she snarled and shoved others out of the way, heart in her mouth, ignorant to the swearing and complaints that she left in her wake. They had to move - all of them!

"Hey!"

"Get off the floor!"

"Has anyone seen this dragon before?"

Fyr's cheeks burned, but she couldn't slow her pace as she forced her way through, eyes wild and tail swinging.

"Sasha? Ropes?"

She called out hopelessly, her voice was drowned out by the music, an endless, throbbing drum that pounded into the back of her skull. Where the hell could they be? Were they okay? Fyr cursed herself. Just why had she agreed to babysit two demons out to a club after all? It had all gone wrong and they hadn't even finished their first round of drinks yet!

Outside? Could they have left her there? Something in her stomach twisted and Fyr swallowed a groan, a cold sweat layering her scales. If they'd left the club and were out on their own, there was no telling how others would react to a demoness in the street, even if she was also a freak in the sheets.

Cold sweat trickled down Fyr's back. Sasha didn't know how to handle herself yet, her temper and demoness body changing, settling into its new form more and more with every passing day. What if she attacked someone? It wasn't nice to think about, but it was certainly a distinct possibility.

Shoving her way to the nearest door, Fyr ducked out a side entrance to the club and gulped in breaths of air, even if it was not fresh what hit her lungs. The back alley was blissfully empty, if layered in garbage that was yet to be cleared up, flyers for the club and other events plastered all over the wall. One neon-printed sign advertised sexual services from sister tigress', but Fyr averted her eyes from the overly explicit photo with due respect for those it portrayed. The dragoness leaned back against the wall, a wave of exhaustion hitting her. She should never have gone along with the club idea, not when everything was so up in the air.

A giggle caught her attention and the dragoness pushed off the wall, head turning from left to right several times over. She knew that giggle. She knew that giggle all too well. But where the hell was at least one of the two that she sought?

"Mom?" She said tentatively, the sound of traffic in the main street enough to make sure that her voice was nothing more than background noise. "Mom, are you there?"

"Oh, yesssss..."

Fyr's ears perked.

"Mom, are you there?"

But there was no answer forthcoming, even if she would have known the nuance of her mother's voice anywhere. Stumbling down the alleyway, Fyr cursed at her choice of footwear, the heels strapped to her hind paws making even the simple act of walking difficult. Although she didn't need to go far before a familiar shape rose into view, her back pinned to the wall as she was lifted up by a dark, sultry frame.

Stopping dead in her tracks, the dragoness clasped a paw over her mouth and retreated into the shadows, heart hammering in her chest. A waste bin, blissfully empty of anything besides cardboard and paper, hid her from view and Fyr tried to appear as small and insignificant as possible, just so she could, at the very least, watch.

"Oh, yeah, stud," Sasha crooned, her voice rising above the cacophony of the city in the background. "Something a bit different for my tastes now..."

The stallion with his arms around her snorted a laugh, but otherwise gave no reply, the Friesian's black forelock hanging beautifully over his face. His hoof-tipped fingers dug into the flesh of her, the dragoness' wings splayed flat against the crumbling wall behind her. Neither seemed to care about their less than picturesque surroundings, Sasha groaning like a slut who hadn't been fucked in months on end as the stallion crammed every last inch of his glorious shaft into her soaked pussy.

Fyr tensed up. Did Ropes know what she was doing? She could only imagine how the cougar would react to her fucking someone else. Unbidden, the image of the shy stoat flashed into her mind and Fyr blushed, trying to focus on the lewd scene before her. As alluring as it was, she worried for her mother and what her jealous husband - possessiveness could be said to be a fault of his, it had to be said - would do if he found her having sex with another fur.

She shivered. But the fur in question was one heck of a stud. The stallion rippled with muscle, the T-shirt cut high across his biceps so that every bit of muscle deemed suitable for public viewing was on show, buttocks clenching as his hips rammed forward, spearing that hot length of horse-meat into Sasha's warm depths.

The watching dragoness pressed her thighs together, a familiar warmth seeping between her pussy lips. She groaned as her panties grew slick: a lace number that Sasha had dressed her in only a couple of hours before, making sure her daughter was 'pretty', even if her underwear was surely not important that night.

Hissing through her teeth, Sasha took the horse deep and Fyr imagined how he must feel inside her. Her pussy tightened in sympathy and desire. Just how thick was the horse? Bigger than Ropes. The dragoness shivered. Maybe that was just another point of contention between them, but a demon surely could fuck harder and last longer - not to mention just how many rounds the demon of lust could go with any partner he so chose.

"Unnff..." The stallion grunted, hide gleaming in the sliver of streetlight filtering down the alleyway. "Gonna..."

Well, he wasn't the best spoken of lovers, but he would do for Sasha, or so it seemed from the shriek of orgasm she gave, bucking and grinding into him as he drove her back all the more fervently into the stability of the wall. The stallion grunted loudly, but he didn't have a patch on the dragoness writhing in her arms, ragged wings beating as if she was trying to force her body back all the more eagerly onto his rampant cock.

An equine could not hold out when his body said to cum, to climax, to breed, and Sasha moaned loudly as he filled her with virile seed. His paw slipped down to the curve of her stomach, but either the stud was too drunk to realise that she was heavily pregnant or he simply didn't care. He nickered in the back of his throat as he spilled every last drop into her, heavy balls swinging up to her buttocks as he, very slowly, lowered her down to the ground once again, chest rising and falling in rapid, short pants.

"Fuck... You..."

The horse didn't seem to have many words as he grinned dumbly, stuffing his cock back into his boxers and yanking up his jeans without ceremony. Sasha didn't seem to want him to linger either, waving him off with a flick of her tail as if she was good and done with him, as long as she got her creamy filling and orgasm out of the encounter.

Sauntering off with a stupid smile plastered across his muzzle, the stallion made his way back into the club, the door swinging open allowing sound to spill out into the alleyway if but for the briefest of moments. Music thumped, pounding viciously, and then it was gone again, the stallion off in search of a drink to quench something else his throat ached for.

Stretching, Sasha groaned as she worked out the kinks in her muscles, panties tugged to the side of her pussy as the stallion's seed splattered out of her well-used sex, pussy lips gaping as if already eager for more. Fyr bit her lip, suppressing a moan as she slunk down behind the waste bin even further, though her frills protruded above it, evidently betraying her position despite her best efforts.

"Are you keeping count, Fyr?" Sasha said with a smirk, adjusting her skirt so that it fell back down her thighs in a more respectable fashion than it had been hitched up around her hips. "That's two for me now."

Her daughter jumped, startled to be so addressed.

"Two? What do you mean two?" She demanded, coming out of hiding now that the gig was up. "And for how long did you know I was there?"

Sasha rolled her eyes.

"You're hardly subtle. The competition, sugar, that's why we're out here. I think Ropes is in the back of the club with a little snow leopard." She rolled her eyes. "An easy catch, if you ask me, but I suppose one tight pussy is just like the next for a cougar like him."

Fyr raised an eyebrow.

"I take it some kind of sex competition?"

Well, that at least made some sense. As if she'd hit the jackpot, Sasha grinned and pointed at her, finger waving happily.

"Yes! And I'm, of course, going to be crowned the winner!"

Sasha swayed, spreading her wings for balance, and Fyr sighed.

"Mom, are you drunk? Did that stallion give you anything?"

"No," she chuckled, clinging to the arm her daughter offered for seemingly much-needed support. "But the dragon did... Damn, he was a good fuck. Remember that, it's two for me."

Her claws dug into Fyr's arm and the dragoness yelped, shooting her mother an annoyed look.

"Jeez, mom!"

"Oh! Let's go see what Ropes is up to! Come on - I saw where he went!"