Cuckolded By Her Mother Ch 33

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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"Oh, yes! Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!"

It should not have been such a strange sound to hear at all in the confines of her own household, Fyr by now being well enough familiar with all manner of debauchery that took place on a daily basis. And yet it set her back teeth on edge, itching oddly as if she needed to grind them, nerves fried and the need to be elsewhere, absolutely anywhere else at all, pulling at her soul like an otherworldly force.

However, she'd tried that already: and look just where that had gotten her. For the reason that her mother was crying out so passionately -- all for her daughter's benefit, of course -- was her very own brother who knew what she liked, supposedly, and did a damn fine job as a newly fledged demon in drawing such pleasure from her less than aged bones.

Kao...

She tried not to think of him but it was, of course, impossible to even simply ignore his presence with his thrusts rocking the wall on the other side of her head. Being that she was the only one in the family (bar Scott -- did the stoat count in that regard?) that actually seemed to do any chores at all around the place, she'd thought the kitchen would be a safe enough spot in which to take a little time for herself, just somewhere where she could set up a canvas on an easel and get her old acrylics out of the box where they had sat for far too long. For so long, in fact, that some of the paints had gone bad, hard and crusty, and had not even been salvageable for the sake of her hobby, even though it was only something that she was able to do sometimes. Not often: just sometimes.

And her family seemed intent on disrupting that too, although she doubted that they actually cared much about what she was doing or why she was doing it, if they even realised that she was in the next room at all. Clenching her jaw so hard that a muscle jumped in the corner, the painful line of aching drawing soreness right down to her tightly pressed together lips, she tried to focus on the splash of colour already on the canvas to the exclusion of all else, despite just how her vision blurred.

No. No, I'm not going to do that.

But the tears came regardless of whether she wanted them to or not, splattering her cheeks as he tipped her muzzle forward, teeth grinding and clenching and chewing as if she was trying to force a particularly stubborn scrap of meat to the back of her throat. Reality, indeed, had become a hard pill to swallow and she shook her head, wiping the back of her paw stubbornly across her red scales, a mucky streak of paint left in its wake, although that in itself seemed oddly fitting considering just what she was taking on right then at that moment in time as her hobby of choice. It was better than simply sitting and listening and wondering just how her brother turning into a demon was going to change the already shocking landscape of her life.

It was a strange thing to think, really -- such a strange thing, in fact, that she could not help but laugh out loud at herself, a strange sort of mocking, chuffing sound that was entirely devoid of any sense of humour or genuine mirth at all. Just what did she have to be happy about? Maybe Kao would have been fine, just fine, if he hadn't thought that he'd needed to come home with her, to protect her. Maybe he would be home in his swanky, big apartment with Chem, having a pizza or something on one of their days off together. She'd never know and she very much doubted that he ever would know that again, if she knew anything at all about the demonic nuances of her family.

Sasha screamed and Fyr groaned, blinking rapidly and focusing on the sick curl of hot anger in her stomach. Yes, that was better than being upset, yet she knew it was not good to keep on focusing on anger as if that would solve anything. Paint slashed the canvas as her brush flew, making a mess of it but not needing anything specific to appear. It was fine, all fine, and she could just ignore their moans of climax, even though there never would, really, be any way for a demon to disguise their roar of climax (Ropes himself was exceptionally loud too). Kao made it well enough known too that he was enjoying himself as Sasha heaved out pants and moans loud enough to carry through even the wall and closed door (deliberately so) into the kitchen itself where Fyr painted out her passion and her anger and let the paint lie where it fell, splatters surrounding her.

Her chest heaved as they quieted down but she did not feel all that much better in herself -- not unless exhaustion counted as better, her wings drooping as if she had been drained of every last drop of energy she may or may not have possessed to begin with. The canvas showed nothing at all and everything she had ever hoped to see, hot, angry colours meshing together into a distorted face that could have been every last one of her family come together into one grotesque monster. But it was the red of her own scales that her soul, truly, despised the most, glaring out with sick accuracy in pinpointing the true sense of sickness there, what refused to get into her place and stay there.

If she did, would she finally be happy?

It was hard to say and it was hardly something that Fyr wanted to think about either, putting her brush aside and taking a deep breath. That usually helped or worked to soothe her mind, but the tension in her chest grew and grew more and more with every passing second, building up to a screaming crescendo that was truly worse than listening to any climax heard through the walls.

And the sound that ripped itself from her lips would have been befitting and becoming a demon themselves as her brow furrowed, lips pulling back from her teeth in a blood-curdling, devastating sort of snarl -- it could not be defined, really, as any singular sound -- as she backhanded the pot of water that she cleaned off her brushed in, tenderly caring for the heads of them as she did everything else in her possession. Maybe that was just why she had not brought them out before, after moving, for fear and worry that her family would not respect her possessions as much as they respected and enjoyed one another, although neither could the dragoness in question have honestly said that they had actively gone out to destroy any of her belongings. But maybe those belongings were the last things she had left to cling onto as something stable and serene when everything else roiled and clanged in frigid, seething turmoil.

As if in slow-motion, she watched the glass pot fly to the side, spewing dirty water everywhere, droplets flashing as if crystalline in the shaft of sunlight spilling luxuriously into the kitchen window. Such an act of violence, however, could only have one outcome and she could not help but wince herself, even though she'd been the cause of the noise, as the jar shattered on the floor, the water by the by on the linoleum there. It still was not the hard wood that had been laid down throughout much of the rest of the house but that was probably just as well as the cheaper flooring would be ripped up when she had a chance to and she didn't mind the demons gouging it with their claws as much either.

Fuck...

Yet a mess caused had to be cleaned up, even if she admitted, quietly, just to herself, that it had made her feel a teensy little bit better to cause such destruction. Maybe that too was why the demons enjoyed abusing the furniture so much; there was a distinct sense of pleasure in observing destruction, although it was very, very rarely them that would have to clean and fix and tidy after causing such clamour. Fyr, however, didn't have anyone at all that she could boss about and growl at with a saucy wink or two that promised so much without coming through on that promise. No, she had to get down on her paws and knees and hold back her curses as she carefully picked up the biggest shards of glass from the dirty pool of water, her mind already trying to dig up just where she had left the mop. Maybe the front porch to dry? Ah, it had been worth it, regardless, she had to say.

And then cold hit her stomach as if she had swallowed a gulp of ice water that her body simply was not ready for, tail stiff and still and heart pounding. Kao. As if appearing from nowhere, he leaned back against the kitchen door, naked from head to toe with his half-hard cock dripping a cocktail of juices, slick and gleaming as if he had just pulled out of their mother. Fyr swallowed hard, forcing her eyes away, but it was hard to ignore that his dick was out when it was that obvious, the drake a strategic blue blur in the corner of her eye.

A flash of white shone from his muzzle and she flinched instinctively, although a smile was, surely, not exactly something to cringe from as if he was going to lunge at her.

"Hey, sis."

She scowled and turned her back on him, cleaning up the mess with her tail tucked down over her backside as if she didn't want him looking there. It was hard to say just what her brother was capable of but she had to remember that she was still Fyr and he was still her little brother, the younger brother. He had listened to her before and there was no real reason to suspect, she hoped, that he would treat her as her mother had. Of course, Sasha had turned in her treatment of Fyr even before she'd become a demon: that had been pre-meditated. And that was, quite possibly, the last thing that she could hope would not happen with or even to Kao. Her hopes, however, had turned out to be futile over the course of the last months, time passing as smoothly as the seasons, everything clunking and grinding together into one great big mess of a life.

"What do you want?"

The words burst from her lips a little more poisonous than she intended them to be, lashing out like the crack of a whip that, truly, she would not have had the foggiest idea of how to wield. Kao, of course, was hardly dissuaded or put off in the slightest by her snark, folding his arms across his chest, cock twitching and throbbing as if to flesh up again hard and full.

No. She dragged her eyes away, frowning with her paws wet and sweat cold against her underarms, her long T-shirt no longer seeming enough to protect her modesty and what left her vulnerable. She would not think like that, would not look at that. She could trust herself, at least, even though everything else twisted and turned around her like a hall of crazy mirrors that distorted reality -- perhaps even to some semblance of the demon realm, the underworld. That was something that, blessedly, she would never have the ill-fortune to see.

"Thought you might like to see what you're missing out on, sis," he drawled, affecting an accent that neither of them had held for many, many years. "So much going on without you... Would be a shame to leave such a hot, fine dragoness like you out when you could be joining in on the fun."

Heart in her throat, Fyr took a deep breath, although her lungs only tightened further, the burning not dissipating in the slightest. Really. Oh, really... Was that how it was going to be, just how he was going to play it? He probably knew that she'd looked before but she'd seen more than her fair share of demons and played their games for long enough, holding her words back until she had exactly what she needed lined up and ready to go, wiping her paws off with a deadly, level gaze locking right onto his.

Come get it.

But she was not goading him on to take her, simply to meet her challenge, as she pushed her shoulder blades back, throwing him the most coolly dismissive look she possibly could dredge up. The only physical tell of her rampant anxiety, the stress at the situation that had landed, once again, in her lap, was the flick of her tail that she could not still, winding itself back and forth, back and forth, as if she had become Ropes readying himself to pounce on an unsuspecting victim.

"That is really not my style," she said blandly. "Though you could make yourself useful. Fetch the mop, would you?"

She ignored him, carrying on as if she expected her order to be followed. Not that he had always been obedient when he'd been younger but that side of things, at least, was a dance that she was exceptionally familiar with, the scenario springing to her mind without even being directly called on. She could remember, so very clearly, him stropping and cursing when he was, really, too young to know such words, loudly shouting about how he shouldn't have to wash up the dishes after dinner... The trick of the matter, however, that Fyr knew with a smirk rising up in the back of her mind that she could not allow out to play, was that he would eventually do what was asked of him. Kao was all bark and no bite and that was something that she was very much counting on to play out in her favour.

The dragoness exhaled softly as he moved, bare hind paws slapping the kitchen floor and she presumed, fairly, that he was off in search of the mop that she'd asked him to fetch her. That was just why she was hardly expecting to see hard dragon dick filling her vision as she half-straightened, Kao blocking out the sunlight as he posed between her and the window, wings flared to show off just how the light fell through the soft and delicate membranes.

For the briefest of moments, her mind ground to a halt, part of her just wanting to part her lips and take that cock into her back of her mouth, suckle it deep and wanton and drain it of every drop of seed that his demonic self had to give. She was a submissive, after all, and she had been well-trained over the many months prior, although something in her clamped her jaws shut as she reeled back, falling prey to baser, safer instincts that could carry her through the very worst of times if she had the sense of self to lean on them when their assistance was required.

"If you think I'm going to do anything with that," she hissed, eyes flashing dangerously as if, in the moment, she had temporarily transformed into a dragon demoness herself. "You've most certainly got another think coming there. Not happening, bro: not in any lifetime."

Unlike the others in her family, Fyr, at least, did not feel that's he had to raise her voice at all in order to be heard, the older sister to her younger brother who had, so very many years ago (it seemed), looked up to her as an idol and a role model. Ah, how times had changed in that regard, but there was not anything she could do about that, not even with hindsight and the like on her side. There was only so much, after all, that wishing could do and there was sadly no such thing as a magic potion or the like that could turn a demon back into a mortal. Or, if there was some manner of curse that could be implemented, it was hardly as if they would hand it to her on a silver platter with a smile to go along with it.

No, that was not how her family worked, not anymore. They'd once fought and devoted themselves to each other -- perhaps not Ropes as he had not been a part of the dragon clan in their younger years -- but things had shifted, the demons only looking out for themselves to the exclusion of all else. And now even Kao was on their side too, the slits of his eyes seeming narrower than before, although the changes were still so subtle with him, strangely so, that Fyr may well have missed that his transformation had taken place if not for the inevitable shift in his newly feral and aggressive demeanour.

Maybe that was what scared her the most and what had her taking a step back as she swallowed hard, the lump in her throat refusing to slip away regardless of how much she grunted and worked at it. In her mind's eye, that hard lump was the head of a cock powering right up into the back of her throat, a powerful male that she could look up to standing over her with a snarl on his lips and a thrash in his tail. Every last bit of that male would be rippling power and muscle, pride oozing from him, everything she had ever wanted and, truly, had in Ropes too. That was, at least, before he'd stopped fucking her, choosing to taunt and mock instead, teasing her with what could have been while she was left with nothing more than the scraps of love and passion.

Her brother stared her down, a standoff at best, and she sweated, clenching her jaw despite the lingering soreness there. Oh, how a part of her wished that soreness was present for a sexy reason, from straining her jaws apart for too long, but she knew she had to hold strong. Everything she did would serve to define their relationship going forward and, frankly, if she could not save him from their mother, she wasn't going to let him treat her the same way. No... She was more than a sex object and she hoped, sincerely, that her brother saw and knew that too as he rocked back on his heels, flapping his wings as if to relieve some tension of his own there and scoffed a sound of stuffy derision.

"Psh... You're boring, sis."

He must have thought that he had better things to do, as a demon, than try to cajole her into sucking his dick, flaunting off with a sway to his tail that carried through to his hips. It was so intrinsically Sasha that Fyr could not help but shudder, although she kept her sigh of relief held back until he was out of the room again, leaving through the kitchen door -- no doubt in search of other demon-ly pleasures that were far more easily obtained than from a big sister who still knew, at least in some way, how to put her foot down.

And yet the very act of defiance took every last bit of energy from her as she slumped back against the table set in the kitchen, now rickety from being rocked and abused by so many hot and sweaty bodies, seemingly one after the other at times. It had never been Fyr who had been up on that particular table, which was probably to her benefit considering just how hard demons seemed to be able to fuck one another. Nothing seemed to stop them but one interaction left her depleted of strength and energy and she slumped down to the floor slowly, not because she had been beaten down but because she simply did not have any energy at all remaining to keep herself somewhat upright.

Just a little while. She'd rest for a little while. Her eyelids grew heavy, the weight of her strange world bearing her down and down and down.

Kao never brought her that mop.

*

Unable to sleep that night, despite the pleasant weather and clear skies plastered with a plethora of stars that the eye simply could not bore itself with, Fyr tossed and turned. It was a relief to be back in her bed, in a way, but she missed a warm body in there with her, her husband's fur and everything else that had soothed her to sleep in what now seemed to be another life and another time entirely. She honestly could not even remember just when the last time had been where she'd shared a bed with him, slipping from one fitful dream to another as she tossed and turned, his arms around her and tentacles securing her in place so that she could not help but truly feel safe and warm and protected and loved. Their relationship had been a strange one, even back then, but it had worked for them and that was all they had really needed, or so Fyr had thought.

But it was harder to feel safe and secure when her husband was not there with her, the bed too narrow to relax comfortably in. She should have made up another room in the house to be her bedroom but it had seemed fitting, in a way, when she'd been in a more submissive place mentally. Breaking from that to see Kao had changed things at least a little for her but she didn't quite know where she fit, coming back to reality with a shock and a bump, the cries of the demons and Scott resonating through the house late into the night. There didn't seem to be any time of day or night that they didn't want to heat things up together but she had forgotten her over the ear headphones at Kao's place and sleeping without white noise or similar had become a challenge in itself.