Cuckolded By Her Mother Ch 20

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 Twenty

"Scott..."

Fyr gulped and took a step back, holding up her paws even as the stoat advanced. Something was different about him, however, his expression darker with a little bit of a smirk tugging at his lips that she had never before seen on his muzzle. Truly, she would have said that it would have been more appropriate on the lips of her husband rather than the stoat who was dominating more and more of her waking thoughts, slipping into the forefront of her mind as she sucked her husband's cock, the smoothly uncut shaft driving up crudely into the back of her maw. But he couldn't be as rough with her as he was with Sasha and the dragoness that he loved was swiftly forgotten in lieu of far more tantalising fruit.

And that was where Scott came into her fantasies, Fyr whimpering with her paws between her legs, bringing herself to climax after climax while the demons had their way with one another. They didn't care anymore what she did while they were fucking - not unless they had some particular manner of humiliation planned for her, that was. If she got off, what did it matter to them? So the dragoness knelt, fingers thrusting crudely into her cunt as her fluids soaked and dripped down her inner thighs more than they ever had before without the addition of a thick load of heavy cum.

Thus, the stoat advanced, eyes glittering as he pushed his shoulder blades back, chest rising as if he was trying to draw her eyes down to the thick lines of muscle there. She reeled. He was bare-chested? Why was he bare-chested? But she couldn't drag her eyes away regardless as he proudly displayed himself for her, his thick tail swinging back and forth, the stoat confidently advancing up the steps to her fully built ranch house.

Fyr shuddered, tucking her thick tail in close to her backside as she took a step back - or, at least, she felt like she did. She didn't actually move at all, the stoat's jeans cast low over his hips as if his body was trying to shed itself of its clothes even as he moved. Fyr's brow furrowed. Why wasn't he even wearing any shoes? How funny!

But she couldn't think about that as the stoat's arms encircled her and she was frozen in the constraints of her body as he kissed her neck, her muzzle, her lips and laid her sweetly back on the bench swing she'd built herself for the front porch for the little one when they, finally, hatched. It shouldn't have been so easy for him to disrobe her but the dragoness found herself naked from head to toe in the blink of an eye, nipples perking lustfully in the cool air of the morning, the sun still low in the sky. It was a flattering kind of light though that cast over her and the dragoness caught her breath as his lips moved down between her breasts, teasing across her sensitive scales with a feather-light touch that would linger in her memory for far, far longer than would have been proper for a married dragon. And yet nothing she was doing at that point in time was proper for a married dragoness who should have known when to stop things before they escalated too far.

Way too far.

"I can't do this..."

"Then why are you, ma'am?"

How cute that he still called her that after everything that had happened! Surely they should have been more familiar with him having seen Sasha as a fully-fledged demon and all but he still had that patient charm about him, despite everything. And maybe that was just what made him so special to her, the stoat that made her heart pound in such a different way to the husband that cuckolded her on a daily basis - multiple times - as he was all sweetness and light and...

...pushing into her. The dragoness moaned and arched her back, clinging to him as the bench swung, threatening to tip the two of them off entirely. His cock drove into her, as smooth and as thick as she'd imagined in her wildest fantasies, filling her as she had so very desperately needed a cock to fill her. And the penetration was not without an edge of pain too, the dragoness tensing and crying out softly as she rolled her hips up into the first thrust of many. She couldn't help tightening up again - as much as other femfurs said that it simply wasn't possible to tighten up like she felt she had - when she was not honoured enough to have the penetration her husband should have been delivering to her, but it made the experience of being stretched all the sweeter for welcoming Scott in.

Perhaps she should have done that a long time ago.

"You're beautiful," he breathed, kissing her nose as he rolled his hips gently, making love to her rather than simply fucking the dragoness, although she would not have said that she would have minded that either. "You deserve better. So much better."

Maybe she did. Maybe Scott was right. She deserved so much more than what she had, as tantalisingly wicked as her life was. It was not that she did not love being cuckolded in the realm of her own household, the secret little thrill it gave her to go deeper and deeper into that manner of submission, intoxicating in its own right... But to be fucked and lusted after was another thing entirely and, well, Scott was more than willing to deliver that to her in thick, heady doses that made her head spin in that so very special way.

The stoat's eyes burned and he crushed his lips to hers, passionately kissing her as their tongues entwined, Fyr's legs wrapped up around his hips. Never once had she said no, rocking her body up into each and every one of his thrusts as he filled her as she had so desperately needed to be filled. Each stroke of that lovely cock, so different to her husband's and certainly miles apart from the faux cocks she had crammed into her on multiple occasions, made her blood sing, smoke curling wickedly from her nostrils as she broke the kiss with a gasp, eyes wide and wild with unbridled passion.

"Fyr!"

But that cry did not come from Scott and, suddenly, the stoat was pulling back and away, his face sucking into a swirling darkness that ripped the world about her from its seams. And then she was awake, sitting up with a gasp and tipping off the camp bed that had been set up in the spare bedroom of the ranch (as yet unfinished) to land in a heap of limbs and blanket on the floor. She scrabbled to come back to herself, chest heaving and fighting with the blankets, her world dark and grey until she finally untangled it from her horns and burst into the bright sunshine of what she hoped would remain her room.

The grey walls, as yet unpainted, welcomed her, along with a smirking, blue muzzle that was quite striking in a far different way to how Scott's looked. The memory of the stoat and the warmth that he'd brought to her chest fizzled away like droplets of dew in the morning sun, although the lust dampening her panties remained in acute testament.

Grinning, Sasha leaned over her daughter, clad in a heavy metal band shirt, yet again, that had multiple, deliberate tears through the charcoal-coloured fabric. Whether the rips were caused by a blade in the designer's workshop or placed there with less calculation by Ropes' claws was a question, however, that would have to remain unanswered.

"Are you having a good dream there, sugar?"

Fyr gaped at her, opening and closing her mouth several times before coming back to her senses, although the words she wanted so desperately simply wouldn't leap to her lips as she desperately needed them to.

"Um, well..."

Yeah. That was eloquent. Really nailed it there.

Fyr rolled her eyes at herself and stood up, groaning as she got to her hind paws and put her paws in the small of her back, working out the kinks from a night spent sleeping on a less than comfortable bed. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing to reassign herself to the sofa once again, even it was a far side less private...

"What are you doing up so early?" Fyr asked instead, giving her mother a wary look. "I thought you were still supposed to be resting?"

Waving her paw dismissively, Sasha folded her wings in close to her back, right away on the defensive.

"That doctor doesn't know how tough demons are. And it's your fault anyway that I caught you cold!"

Sighing and rolling her eyes, Fyr deigned to dignify that one with an answer. The dragoness had heard that comment over and over again since Sasha had come down with something a little unexplainable, although the dragoness had seemed to get over it. It was true that the doctors at their local practice didn't understand how to tend to demons as the normal vaccinations that they would give for various maladies simply had no effect. Conversely, demons had proven themselves immune to many things even while their systems reacted strangely to undulating nuances rising through the fabric of being from the underworld - the place where the majority of demons in existence called their own.

But that was about all that she'd gotten out of Ropes before he'd sent her away to please Sasha, even if it was a damn side more than she had known and understood previously. It kept her mind occupied at other times too and was a welcome distraction as she followed Sasha down the uncarpeted stairs, the dragoness babbling on about something or the other. Truthfully, Fyr couldn't bring herself to care, even though it should have been a welcome distraction from the lingering warmth in the pit of her belly.

Scott was far too tempting a thought to work his way to the forefront once again, that wicked smirk of the dream-stoat replaced by a dazzling, heart-wrenching smile. She shivered. The feel of his paws on her in the dream had been so vivid, so very vivid... She didn't know if she wanted it to be real or not but the dream had been whatever it had been and there was nothing she could do to change that one bit.

Breakfast seemed a massive task, especially with Sasha rattling on. It was a surprise that Fyr had not yet had her muzzle forced between her mother's legs but she wasn't about to complain when she was otherwise left well enough alone with the peace of her own thoughts for company. Sasha didn't need a reply to enjoy the sound of her own voice, her daughter nodding every so often just to appease her, although there was only so far that Fyr could get with her toast - Sasha had turned down breakfast, just like Ropes, every day since she had become a full demon - before her mother demanded something a little more from her.

"Come on, Fyr," Sasha said, poking her in the small of her back. "There's no time to dally about, sugar. You need to get going! There's a lot to do here!"

Fyr started, looking her up and down. The house that she'd designed and done the interior work on (still a work in progress) rose around them, the groceries she'd bought sitting on the counter, and Sasha had the illicit audacity to say that she needed to be getting on with even more work? She pressed her lips tightly together into a thin, hard line, anger curdling in the pit of her stomach. Hadn't she earned anything of a break?

"Are you trying to hustle me on to get this place finished?" She growled, eyes flashing in a fit of daring. "I'm working as fast as I can!"

Sasha clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth and, as if in a motherly swing, cuffed her daughter lightly on the side of her head with her wing, bending her ear-frill. She didn't take Fyr's anger one bit seriously and drew her in close, slinging an arm around her shoulders as if everything was as fine and dandy as it had been so very many years ago in her youth.

"Silly, Fyr," she cooed. "We're all working hard here! I'll need to be getting on with this too! I've got my old guitar shipping down and the studio will need setting up!"

Fyr snorted and rubbed the back of her paw across her eyes. Oh, the studio... She'd forgotten all about that. Although she had to say that it sounded like Sasha was planning to actually do the work for herself for once, which would have made a nice change if not for the problems she was facing with her immune system being all out of whack and all that. It was the very purpose of all the doctor's visits she was being ferried back and forth too and, truly, the reason that her workplace had barred her from remote work for the time being, a fact that Sasha was terribly upset about, even if it would have been part-time. Fyr still hadn't quite worked out why, as yet, she wanted to resume her old job but, if the dragoness was looking to contribute to the household, she wasn't about to lodge any complaints there.

Yet it did mean that the dragoness was well enough supposed to be resting and not hauling tail all around the ranch in the name of fixing bits up to her liking (Sasha was rather scatterbrained with what she turned her attention to, it had to be said).

"Yeah, but you can't work when you're supposed to be resting," Fyr groaned, finally speaking her thoughts aloud. "As much as I appreciate it, mom, it's really Ropes that I need to help."

Something shifted in Sasha at that moment, a shadow seeming to cross the dragoness' sharply emerald green eyes.

"Okay," she said, quietly and levelly. "I will speak to him."

Fyr blinked. Just what the hell had happened there? Everything moved so quickly in the house sometimes... Had she missed something? Gulping, Fyr shook her head, trying to keep her cool as she nodded shortly, just the once.

"That's great. Thank you."

"Just don't forget what I'm doing for you here, daughter."

To Sasha's retreating back, the door closing on her heels, Fyr levelled her gaze and gave a deep sigh. There was always a caveat. Hopefully, this one would not come with too many negatives as opposed to the delightful positives some - like kneeling at their feet while they fucked over her head - had.

Her trepidation, however, seemed to come to no fruition at all as the day progressed, a duly sleepy Fyr - well, she had been rather 'active' during the course of her dreams - got on with the work in preparing the ranch house. She still hadn't quit her job, wanting to get all set up and ready to go first of all, but that meant that there was an awful lot more work to get down on the weekends and during any free evenings. She was, in a way, lucky that Sasha and Ropes were more interested in one another than her as it, at least, gave her relative peace to get on with the work that needed to be done, even if it was rather lonesome.

The construction crew, of course, had long since left and Scott had left along with them. Fyr could not have pretended that she was not sad to see Scott go but she had to say too that it was a relief to have the object of such lewd, seedy attention out of sight even if not quite out of mind. It had opened the door to further fantasies, allowing her to dream of what might have been if only she'd been another dragoness in another time and another life entirely. It didn't matter that nothing had happened between them (she chose not to dwell on that one kiss too much), only that she could enjoy the fantasies and get herself off to the thought of the naked stoat night after night after night. Who did it harm?

And he was a nice thought to have in her mind too as she pursed her lips and hung Sasha's favourite painting in the master bedroom. It was a strange painting to see going up in line with Sasha's re-emerging, younger tastes as it was an old watercolour that had seen better days. The frame was a little battered and Fyr made a mental note to pick up a replacement in the city next time she was in; at least there she wouldn't have to hang around for a custom frame to be made up for her and could just walk off with any size she pleased off the shelf. The watercolour depicted a landscape but not just any landscape: the holiday home that her grandparents had had in her younger days. Those grandparents and the holiday home in the mountains were but a distant memory but it must have held some kind of sentimental value for Sasha to want it put up in the master bedroom.

But she'd stood there looking at it for long enough and Fyr shook herself, moving on to touching up the paint around the light fittings and plug sockets, wanting everything in the master bedroom to be perfect. The bed had a reinforced steel frame that she had begged them not to break too soon, although she had no doubt whatsoever in her mind that it would be an easy task for a demon on a mission, the fire of lust flaring up hot and proud in their hearts. It would do the job, however, at least for a little while and she'd been rather proud with the bargain she'd managed to strike in getting it made, even though the springs were not as well reinforced, perhaps needing to be replaced sooner than she would have liked either way.

Yet the bedroom was just where all of them seemed to spend the majority of their time and, truly, it made sense to have everything just as she liked it right off the bat. It wasn't so much her tastes that were being accounted for but, honestly, Fyr wasn't so much of a picky soul as long as she had a nice photo of her family up somewhere, just to remind her of what was truly important in her life. For, regardless of everything that happened, her family would always be there and she had even closer ties to them than ever.

And so the picture went up in prime position on the bedside table, on the side where Fyr would have slept if not for the drastic change in her personal life and circumstances. It still made her smile though to see her mother with both her and Ropes with not an ounce of sexuality to colour the frame. It looked...right, somehow, and that was all it had to be without any sense of digging into it.

Groaning, she stretched her arms out above her head, dropping first one hip and then the other as she shifted her weight from side to side, working out the kinks of a day of bustling and working, although it was only early afternoon. Maybe, as she'd thought that morning, the camp bed was rather getting the better of her, but she strove to not let it prey on her mind as she tidied the bed and cleaned up the room, finished at last. There were much bigger jobs left to do - painting and decorating the spare room, her room, to say the least - but it was nice to have one finished all by her own doing, a lightness in her heart seeming to lift her up from where she may have otherwise slumped.

"What a nice picture..."

Fyr gasped but had not a single heartbeat in which to react as a tentacle snaked around her throat. Her heart leapt, pounding viciously, but there was nothing to hold her balance as Ropes skilfully flipped her onto the bed, eyes glowing all the while. He did not smile and did not even smirk, which was, in a way, even more disconcerting than his usual expression, the predatory gleam radiating from his eyes as if he was actively trying to project it. The cougar licked his lips as he advanced, tentacles stiff and raised on the attack, tail flicking lazily from one side to the other and back again, a calculated, repetitive motion. Fyr trembled. There would never be any mistaking a cougar on the prowl.

"Ropes..."

"Quiet."

Shuddering, Fyr did as she was bid, chest rising and falling rapidly within the confines of her pale pink T-shirt. It wasn't one she usually wore and, after her work of the day, it had become splattered in off-white splotches from touching up the paintwork and doing what she needed to do. She wasn't all that confident either that she smelled all that fresh, wishing belatedly that she'd been a bit quicker to jump in the shower, although that room too was a terrible sight, even if it was functional. Fyr frowned. If she could just get to it, she was sure...