FSE

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formerly SoFurry search engine

Cuckolded by Her Mother

Chapter Twelve

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Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)

Commissioned by Fyrdrgon

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"I'm really not sure why this is necessary..."

Sasha folded her arms and stared resolutely out the window of Fyr's rattling, old truck, her lips pursed and the tip of her tail curling and uncurling as if she could not bear to keep it still. The dragoness sighed and tried to focus on the road that unwound itself beneath their wheels as they made their way into town. The landscape was more barren than usual, but the flush of spring would soon be with them, and she supposed that they could only be grateful that it had not been a hard winter. On the contrary - they'd barely even felt it with all the heat going on in the comfort of their own home.

There was, however, still much work to be done on the barn and ranch house before they could even think about moving in, but the foundations were being set down from their savings, that time of scrimping and saving and grinding through jobs neither of them enjoyed paying off dividends. Sometimes the best things in life were worth a little trouble. Fyr only hoped that the same was true for the new relationship she'd found with her husband and her mother.

Her mother was not best pleased with her daughter 'forcing' her to see the doctor. Her stomach swelled with her ongoing pregnancy, easily at the four-month mark and progressing rapidly. She rested her paw on her stomach as they drove, unaware that Fyr kept stealing glances at it, eyes sliding between the baby bump and her own, comparatively smooth belly.

Would she ever have a hatchling of her own, or was she destined to be the nanny's cuckold too? Fyr wrinkled her nose, snout crinkling. Did that even work or make sense? Not much made good sense to her anymore.

She still had her common sense though and, when Sasha had shown her the holes appearing in her sides, scales folding in as if the very structure of her body was collapsing, she'd known just what to do. Like all the times her mother had dragged her kicking and squealing to the doctor because she'd hurt herself doing something ridiculous or dangerous or both, it was time for her to make sure that Sasha, and the baby, got the attention they needed.

Before it was too late.

Her hind paw inched down on the gas pedal, the dragoness gnawing at her lip. Silence stretched out between them, Sasha's grumbles and complaints going unanswered as she stewed. Although Fyr was well aware that she too knew it was for the best as there was nothing on heaven or earth that would have forced her mother into the truck if she had not too thought it to be, ultimately, the right decision.

Fyr sent a prayer up to the lord, if he happened to be listening at that given moment, that everything would go well. She'd picked out the town clinic for her mother, thinking that the drive would be easier (than hauling tail all the way into the big city) on a dragoness carrying a hatchling, though they still could not say conclusively whether it was an egg or not. That was something that the doctor would be better able to tell and Fyr herself tingled with anticipation of the news.

It consumed her every waking moment, tiny paws pattering through her dreams as she tossed and turned on the sofa of a night. Would it be a male or a female? What could she teach them? Oh, how fun it would be to watch them grow up! It didn't matter that the hatchling would not be hers, only that it was one that was of her family. Neither could she have said quite when her mind settled to the possibility - it was, after all, far too late to terminate the pregnancy with any sense of compassion or good faith - but a kind of peace over that nuance of the situation, at least, had wrapped itself over her mind. Perhaps it was because she could focus whole-heartedly on preparations for the youngster to arrive, going from task to task with comforting regularity. Or perhaps it was the lack of power and control that made everything all that simpler to accept.

Sasha sulked into the corner of the waiting room, glaring at everyone and anyone that walked by as she was put out of her day. Fyr could only imagine what she'd planned to do with Ropes, only to be thwarted by her own daughter taking the lead. Drumming her fingers on the arm of the stiff-backed chair, Fyr took a deep breath. It felt good to take charge, if only to do what was right for her husband and his partner. It made her feel taller, bolder, stronger, like she could sit up straight and smile with confidence in her eyes. Not that she much knew what confidence looked like in one's eyes, but she was damn sure going to try to make it shine.

The doctor, however, could have been more tactfully chosen for a dragoness in Sasha's condition.

"Well, well, well, always a pleasure to meet a new patient. Are you from out of town?"

The fox should have been pleasant enough, a bright orange type with black ears and paws, glasses balanced on his snout rather than clipped into the fur on his head as if he didn't want to concern himself with keeping them completely securely in place...and yet there was something about him that made Fyr's back teeth itch, as the expression went. His amber eyes gleamed in the stark overhead lighting, enough to observe any patient without flattering them in the slightest, which his paws moved quickly across the keyboard, jotting down heaven knew what.

Sasha surveyed him with her legs crossed, muzzle tilted away.

"Yes, but I am moving here permanently. You could say that I already have."

"Good, good..." He wasn't really listening, only one ear twitching as his body responded without his mind taking note. "And would that be the address on file? The last address?"

The dragoness stiffened and Fyr shot her a look from the chair in the corner, sitting out of the way and yet still able to intervene if needed. Sasha seemed to deflate, shoulders rounding forward only an amount that Fyr would have noticed. There was nothing her mother did those days that bypassed her attention; or, at least, that was what she liked to think.

Stroking his whiskers, Dr Johnson glanced between Sasha and the computer screen. One could only imagine which he was more interested in.

"Your patient card said that you had some indents in your body that you wanted me to take a look at?"

The blue dragoness scowled at him, wings mantling threateningly over her back.

"Yes... It seems that something has...appeared and I'm quite concerned about it."

He smiled in what Fyr supposed he thought was a kind manner, but truly just came off as just a little bit sinister. Even Sasha pulled back slightly, a look of abject trepidation crossing her muzzle.

"Well then, hop up and I'll take a good look at you."

Reluctantly, Sasha stood and rolled up the hem of her T-shirt, which bragged the logo of another metal band that she'd apparently been very into 'back in the day' and had recently rediscovered. She'd been digging out a lot of them lately, for what reason Fyr could not possibly fathom. Half of them were ratty and faded, but her mother seemed to love them either way.

The fox whistled as the holes in Sasha's stomach were revealed, the ovals at a slant back towards her sides as if to point down like arrows towards her crotch. The swell of her stomach could not be missed, but he was far more interested in the deformity - not that they looked very much like deformities. The dragoness shifted uncomfortably as he snapped on a pair of green gloves, which all of them hoped were latex free. He was, however, surprisingly gentle in running his finger around the growing holes, which dipped in along with her scales as if she had squashed a divot into her own skin and was simply waiting for it to spring back into place.

"Interesting..." He murmured. "And do you feel any pain or discomfort here?"

Sasha shrugged.

"Not really. It itches sometimes, but that's all I can really say there."

The fox nodded, but neither of them was all too convinced that there was true comprehension in his eyes, but rather a sick kind of intrigue as to the nature of her condition. Sasha bristled and pulled away from his probing paws, fingers folded over her stomach in instinctive protection.

"Well, you don't seem to be in any pain," Dr Johnson said, stripping off the gloves. "That's something."

Sasha stared at him unblinkingly.

"I just told you that."

"And no secretions, no blood," he said, continuing on as if she had not said anything at all. "We'll need to do further examinations and I'd like to refer you to a specialist in the meantime."

He laughed, throwing his head back to show a flash of white teeth protruding from behind dark lips.

"We're not all that well equipped to deal with holes where they shouldn't be unless they can be stopped up and bandaged!"

As he laughed, Sasha and Fyr exchanged a look. Was the fox for real? Just what was he saying? It didn't seem like much of a joke, but Fyr did her best to laugh along politely as he approached her mother again, not asking her permission before running his paws callously over her stomach. Sasha clenched her jaw, wings tense as she clearly struggled not to draw away from his rapidly becoming inexpert touch.

"Yes, so the specialist will deal with that," he repeated, screwing up his muzzle as he scrutinised her baby bump. "On the other paw..."

There was a pause while the gear in his brain turned with agonising slowness. Even Fyr had to take a deep breath, steadying her nerve. Something wrong? Something good? Just what was it? Why did he delay so? She growled under her breath, earning her a disapproving look from her mother. Fyr winced. Well, at least some things never changed.

"I see you are expecting." The doctor frowned. "May I ask which practice you have been visiting for your check-ups? How far along are you anticipated to be?"

"I haven't been to any clinic," Sasha said with a shake of her head, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. "I monitored myself until Fyr was further along and I see no reason why this pregnancy will be any different to those I've had before. All without complications, I might add."

The fox took a step back, whiskers quivering.

"I'm afraid that that simply will not do." The disapproval in his voice was palatable, thick and heavy as Sasha blinked back at him, momentarily struck down for words. "You cannot treat your body so terribly - this is not old times now and we have so much technology and treatments that will make you all the more comfortable."

That was just where he should have stopped. But foxes were not known for their intelligence and sometimes even their cunning got the better of them.

"It's really a disgrace how you older dragons look at your bodies, thinking it's still years back and that 'one more' just won't make a difference." He huffed, whiskers quivering indignantly. "You make my job all the harder and we're going to have to have you in for a very strict routine of check-ups now, just to make sure that everything is alright. And it's so rarely routine with dragons of, well...

He waved a paw in the air, lips twisting.

"Of your age, shall we say?"

Sasha drew herself up tall and pushed her shoulder blades back, fingers curled primly around the knee of the leg that she'd rested on top of the other. Pre-empting what was to come - she did know her mother, after all - Fyr winced.

Oh dear...

"Young fox, there wasn't such a thing as these regular check-ups in my day," Sasha hissed, barely parting her lips enough to allow her words out. "And, in my day, there weren't young things like you poking and prodding ladies and acting like they're all high and mighty for being in a position above dragons like me."

She clenched her jaw, working it until she could, once again, speak the words that no doubt every femfur who'd had the misfortune to pass through his office had yearned to unleash.

"And I'll have you know that I'm quite confident in my knowledge of birthing and the changes in my body, thank you very much! If there are any methods that will assist with my comfort in the later months, I welcome them, but until then I'd appreciate if you left a lady who knows well enough what she's doing well enough alone."

If she'd been anywhere else, Fyr would have half-expected her to wag a finger at the much younger doctor, his black ears folded back and eyebrows raised. It wouldn't have been so bad, perhaps, if he'd said all he had with a kind expression and concerned eyes, but the fox positive spat the words at her mother, only to instantly regret them. Fyr covered her muzzle with her paws, hiding her smile even as her eyes danced. She knew that feeling far, far too well.

"I... I..."

"No. You don't need to talk."

The fox gulped as Sasha stared him down, tail cracking like the lash of a whip.

"Send in a more experienced doctor to complete the examination. Perhaps one who is not so inclined to talk down to patients."

His mouth opened and closed several times, but a second look from the raging blue dragon was all that was needed to send him well and truly scarpering with his tail tucked between his legs. Slamming on his heels, the door bounced back once before settling into the frame, just in time for Fyr's peals of laughter to ricochet raucously off the walls.

Scowling, Sasha growled and turned her muzzle haughtily away.

"Honestly, just what is with these young folk," she grumbled, a tinge of pink at the height of her cheekbones. "No respect for those elder than them, none at all. And I am hardly that old. What is wrong with them?"

Wiping tears of laughter from her eyes, Fyr shook her head, grinning widely as her cheeks ached.

"I don't know, mom, I really don't know."

*

The examination with a more sympathetic doctor, who was, perhaps, more than a little amused at the plight of his colleague went more smoothly than the initial consultation. Of course, it was the growing holes in Sasha's sides, her flanks, if one willed, that were the greatest cause for concern, but X-rays were out of the question with the little one growing inside her. The doctor was able to discern that it was an egg she would lay and not birth a live hybrid child, but no one was very interested in that as he measured the diameter of the divots that had doubled in size since Fyr had first seen them.

"I'd be more concerned if you were expressing discomfort, but we'll run further tests and, of course, see what we can find on an ultrasound to start off with. I'm sorry the gel is a bit cold, my dear, but you just let me know if you need me to stop at any point."

Sasha seemed a side more comfortable with the older badger and chatted softly to him, amicably enough to appease anyone faced with such a strange occurrence in a practice where nothing really out of the ordinary happened at any time. The ultrasound confirmed the presence of the egg, but revealed that the holes only dipped as far as the eye could see with no other abnormalities - not even inflammation - showing from a quick scan.

"There's nothing more we can do until you've laid the egg, I'm so sorry to say," he said, lips twisting as if he actually was sorry and had a true, vested interest in Sasha's wellbeing. "I need you to keep a close eye on those. They don't seem dangerous at this point, but if something is under your scales. It could even be a parasite."

"What?" Fyr jerked upright, ear-frills quivering. "A parasite? Just where would a parasite have come from?"

The badger held up his paws quickly, placating her as swiftly as was possible.

"It's fixable, please do not worry. But we need to ensure both mother and baby's health for the short-term. If there was redness or even swelling, or something foreign on the ultrasound, I would be looking to send you for immediate further investigation, but it is likely to be invasive and unpleasant at this point."

Sasha flinched and tucked her wings in to her back.

"I see... That does not sound pleasant."

"It would not be, which is why I would like you to avoid it, unless your concern is greater. You will lay the egg in a few months, depending on how long your body retains it - it really does so often depending on the genetic make-up of the father when it comes to interspecies young - and then we can delve into this and put you right. For now, your comfort and wellbeing are of our utmost concern."

Sasha snorted, shaking her head.

"A shame your fox doctor didn't think the same."

"His manner..." The badger waved a paw, eyes twinkling with a secret held back from the brink of his tongue. "His manner could use some work and his communication style, shall we say? His heart, I assure you, is quite in the right place."

"So you say," Sasha grumbled while Fyr hid her smile behind her paw. "Could have fooled me."

"Either way, please monitor your condition closely. It goes without saying that this is highly abnormal, but you know your body better than anyone else and are best placed to track any changes until further investigation becomes a possibility."

Sasha smiled, genuinely.

"It is far more pleasant to have a doctor that understands that and where my concern lies."

"Well, don't you worry, because everything is going to be fine," he said, putting such conviction into his tone that it would have taken a strong will to go against him. "I'll prescribe you a cream to soothe any irritation - quite a mild dose, mind you - but I cannot see any current reason why this is necessary, it is merely going to be there just in case you need it."

Folding his paws across his rather portly stomach, he planted himself back in his desk chair and smiled reassuringly, black and white muzzle bobbing in a sage-like fashion.

"We're going to get you through this pregnancy, have a healthy hatchling for you and then set you completely right again."

"Thank you, doctor," Sasha said, the tension visibly seeping from her rounded shoulders. "That's exactly what I needed to hear."

Fyr exhaled, letting them talk as she mused in the background. It may have been just what her mother needed to hear, but the appearance of such a deformity would have worried any daughter. She fretted and twisted her fingers together, something niggling at the back of her mind that would not quite come to the surface. The dragon gnawed at her lip, a worrisome curl of smoke trailing from her nostrils. But what was it? What was she, and even the doctor too, missing?

*

The answer did not come to her that day. Nor did it come to her the day that followed, even as life continued as normally as ever. Fyr worked on the ranch, put a fresh coat of paint on the room that would be the baby's, at least temporarily. She still hoped to be able to move them out to the ranch house in due time, depending on how quickly the foundations were laid. And the hired team was moving at a due pace even in the off-season, perhaps being short of other work and eager to get to task. She was well aware that her little ranch house was not going to be the most profitable job - Ropes was a mean negotiator - but made sure that refreshments were available at all times, which seemed to sweeten the deal some during the time she had to be at work and unavailable.

Sasha's wings continued to develop their ragged edge, but her energy and strength seemed to continue just as it always had. The dragoness was full of life and even helped Fyr with the chores around the ranch, as much as her daughter begged her to leave the jobs to her and her alone. Sasha, however, proved to be far stronger than Fyr and hefted wieldy wooden beams with ease, stacking them while Fyr rushed around to get the paintwork done. So much to do! Everything had to be treated! The barn had to be ready!

The foundations of the ranch were coming into place too and she took as many sneaky looks out at the rising building as she dared, though there was not much height to it, it had to be said. The foundations of a strong building were the most important part, regardless, and could not be skimped on or short-changed, though it would surely take a chunk out of their savings. Once it was up in a vaguely, building-like shape, she and Ropes would take care of the rest, but, for once, it was rather exciting to see something of her design take shape without her lifting a finger in its actual construction. At least not yet. Either way, it was nice to be in charge of something that was, thankfully, progressing very smoothly.

One of the workers seemed to have quite an interest in what was going on in the barn though, coming over several times during the course of the day while the ladies worked. A slim stoat, he doffed his builder's helmet and scuffed the toe of his boot through the dirt as he spoke, eyes downcast as if he couldn't quite push away his shyness enough to make eye contact.

"Excuse me, ma'am, miss," he said, directing the younger compliment to Fyr, who beamed. "But we have some scrap wood over there that's just going to waste if it doesn't get used. Would ya'll like use of it?"

Fyr had her lips parted to answer, but Sasha butted in as if his question had been for her all along, bopping her daughter out of the way with her shoulder.

"That's very much kind you there, sugar," Sasha purred, batting her eyelashes at the stoat with dark brown fur, rich and chocolaty. "We'd love to take it off your paws! Would you be a dear and stack it right over there? And I'm sure y'all would like some coffee? We got a fresh pot brewing in the tack room!"

Sasha slipped back into her old twang at the mere hint of it from the stoat and, if she had not been so peeved at being pushed to the side, Fyr would have found it amusing. As it was, that stoat's eyes lingered on her and she smiled softly as if to say "what can you do?" for there really was nothing she could do and, of course, the wood would be helpful. There was much work to be done and there was no doubt over who it would fall too once Sasha had the little one's egg nested in a clutch, warm and safe until hatching.

"That would be mighty nice of you, ma'am," he murmured. "Ah'll get that wood sorted all out."

Fyr giggled - it was a funny little innuendo - but Sasha poked her in the ribs before the sound could blossom.

"Fyr," she crooned. "Make good on that, would you? These lads here are thirsty!"

And they were, but not quite in the way that the face of her words meant. Red-faced, Fyr mumbled something unintelligible and darted off for the kettle. The wiring, at least, had been done in the barn ahead of time so there was easy access to hot drinks and somewhere to store biscuits, though Fyr had had to bring a tin down as the mice had been getting at them something dreadful.

When she returned, Sasha was deep in conversation with the stoat, but his eyes drifted immediately to her as if he had been waiting for her return with the tray of coffee and biscuits.

Blue eyes. Fyr swallowed, licking her lips. He had blue eyes. Her heartbeat seemed to flutter and the tray trembled in her grasp as she set it down, if only for something to occupy herself with rather than staring and staring into those so very blue eyes.

"Fyr! What took so long?"

Even Sasha's admonishments over nothing at all could not keep the smile from her lips as she waved the stoat off with a lightness in her step that had not been present since... Well, she could not quite remember when. It stayed with her for the rest of the day until they returned home to find Ropes with his hind paws up over the arm of the sofa, tentacles limp as he drained the can of beer in his paw. Fyr's lips twisted sympathetically and she brushed her fingers along his arm.

"Long day, sweetie?"

Ropes nodded, eyes closed.

"Mhm."

"Must have been a long one indeed if you're this tired," Fyr murmured, perching on the edge of the sofa to rub his shoulders lightly, fingers searching out the knots she knew she'd find there. "What happened? I'm sorry I took the day off to work on the ranch now. Maybe it would be easier for you to get out of that office sometimes too? Out in the fresh air, I'm sure you'll feel much better."

Of course, Fyr would have preferred that it was her at the ranch and out of her own dreadful office, but it was more important to make sure her husband was comfortable too. In fact, his state of exhaustion brought a slight rise of terror to her heart and she gnawed at the inside of her cheek, finding the knots between his shoulder blades as the feline groaned and have a single, massive sigh.

If only she could take the burden from him. But there was someone who was far better versed in just what her own husband needed and ready to take on the challenge. Whether that was fortunate or unfortunate for Fyr, however, remained entirely to be seen.

"Oh,sugar." Her words cut through the air as wings rustled. "I can help with any troubles you have on your plate!"

Fyr baulked, shoved back from the sofa as her husband was hauled up and away from her, floppy tentacles trailing behind as if he simply did not have the energy to lift them up as he usually did.

"Mom! You can't do that - think of the egg!" Fyr tried to grab for her and failed as her mother yanked her husband out of the living room and towards the stairs as if the hounds of hell were rabid on her heels. "We don't know what's wrong with you yet! This isn't safe!"

"Oh, you worry too much - I feel fine!"

And Sasha may have very well felt fine, but that didn't change her physical condition in the slightest. The holes were still there, burrowing deeper into her midsection as if formed by the whim of invisible gauges, stretching them into something more akin to a slit than a perfect oval. The wings... Well, those could always be put down to something else, but Fyr had not once caught her snagging them on anything in the barn. On the contrary, she seemed to keep them carefully tucked into her back at all times, wary of actually letting them catch on anything at all.

The red lines... Fyr shuddered. The lines like blood, she'd have to consider at another time. Those still unnerved her.

But her musing left her behind, thoughts rooting her in place as they darted up the stairs ahead of her, Sasha giggling with youth that should have been far behind her. But they seemed to give one another energy as Fyr followed, Ropes' tentacles perking up at the prospect of what was to come and crushing his lips to Sasha's in the sanctity of their bedroom.

"Oh, I missed you too, darling, you have no idea what a day it's been..."

Fyr cringed. Why couldn't he say that to her? But they were stripping down to their fur and scales as if she was not there at all, Sasha flinging her rather scanty undergarments to the side of the bedroom with a well-timed flick of her tail.

"I know, honey, but I'm here to take care of you now," Sasha whispered. "Let me treat you right and you won't be thinking about that nasty old day at all..."

And there was little any red-blooded male could do to distract himself with a dragoness like Sasha climbing over them. His cock swelled into her paw as she played her tongue around the head and Fyr groaned, leaning against the doorframe to watch - they hadn't said she had to go or do something else, after all - wishing that it was her. If she thought back hard enough, she could imagine that the taste of his seed was still in her muzzle, though she had delayed brushing her teeth that night for as long as was hygienically possible. It had pained her to wipe evidence of their liaison from her body, however, and ached to be in the position again, on her knees serving him as she should be.

Her submission should have given her pause for thought, but the cuckold wife only had the best interests of her dominants in mind as Sasha pushed Ropes back on the bed, crooning into the touch of his tentacles as they stroked her face, caressed her breasts and trailed all the way down to her crotch. One slithered over the holes in her flanks and Fyr stiffened, anticipating a cry of pain or something of that kind, but Sasha shuddered bodily as if Ropes had touched a far more erogenous zone than just her side.

"Oh, sugar..." She breathed, head rolling back. "Do that again."

Obligingly, as her hips rose, cock jutting up eagerly for the warmth of her entrance, Ropes flickered his tentacles softly over the edges of those four holes, letting them slide around her and support her lower back. The dragoness moaned loudly as she pushed down, sealing his uncut dick inside her in one movement that filled her to the brim, head pressed up to her cervix as deep as he could possibly go.

"That's it, honey, you lay back and let me take care of you..."

Riding him, Sasha groaned lewdly and let her head fall back, ragged wings spread and eyes glowing faintly.

Wait... The cogs in Fyr's brain raced to catch up, the dragoness blinking and rubbing her eyes. The bedroom was dim with the curtains drawn, but she surely could not have seen the glow, could she? But there they were, a shimmering green with no pupil to be seen in the dimness, jaws parted for raw gasps of air that made her breasts rise sultrily with each and every one she dragged into her lungs. For she needed every drop of oxygen she could get when taking care of a demon cougar, their lust set to destroy just about every part of the house.

Ropes snarled, his glowing, white eyes matching the dragoness' even as they faded to her normal irises once more, claws digging sharply into his hips and slamming up. The dragon hissed through her teeth and beat her wings, buffeting him with a gust of air that would have knocked him backward if he had not already been lying on the bed. He curled up to her as if in a crunch, jaws agape in a predatory fashion, and tried to get his hind paws under him to thrust with greater power, only to have the dragoness curl her tail around his knees, locking him in place.

"Not today, sugar," she purred breathlessly. "Today, you're staying right down there and letting momma dragon fuck you!"

Ropes was perhaps lucky that she wasn't so inclined to get the toys out at that moment, or else it may have resulted in a far greater battle of wills. As it was, the cougar yowled as she rode him, driving him down into the bed even as he clawed at her, giving every bit as good as he got with his tentacles groping and twisting and writhing and claimed every last inch of her body.

It was raw. It was demonic. It was something Fyr could never have done for her husband.

Fyr gulped and held her paws over her lips, watching in fearful awe as Sasha slammed her hips down with force that she was sure would have broken her own pelvis if she had treated her body so roughly. The bed creaked beneath them, shrieking itself as if it was about to give up the ghost, but neither of them seemed to notice, head board slamming back into the wall to wear a groove into the plaster. Fyr cried out, a sound that was meant to instil caution in them, but they didn't even hear her, Sasha using her wings to drive power into her hips, his cock lewdly squelching into the depths of her cunt with every thrust and every plunge.

Those eyes... Fyr's head reeled and she edged closer, trying to get a better look. But Sasha's eyes had returned to normal, leaving her the mother dragon that Fyr knew and loved and wasn't even sure was her own mother anymore. That, however, was just the surreal edge creeping into the day and Fyr pressed her thighs together, unable to stop the usual creep of arousal simply from watching her mother with her husband. It was impossible to look away and Fyr chomped at the inside of her lower lip until it bled, flooding her mouth with the raw, metallic twang of fresh blood.

Though, as she observed with a kind of morbid fascination, something altogether more sinister took form. Ropes' tentacles, which Sasha had been so enamoured with. One teased along the outside of a hole and across those red streaks, beautiful in their rampant goriness, as she groaned and arched into them. It was almost as if she was begging for their touch and Ropes took his cue, tentacle questing higher until it found just the slit it'd been looking for, perhaps all along.

They fit together like a glove.

As the tentacle slid into her, the dragoness climaxed with a feral shriek, eyes flashing for a fraction of a second as her wings spread out, torn in all their glory, to their fullest extent. She twisted on top of Ropes, fighting to contain the force of her orgasm as her wings flapped, pummelling the air into shape and knocking the lamp on the bedside table - what had been Fyr's side - clean across the room to shatter on the wall. No one noticed, not even Fyr, and Sasha howled as all four of Ropes' tentacles slid into the holes, filling her as if they were...

Fyr's mind locked up. No. It couldn't be like that. Not like that. Never like that. Ever the voyeur, there was nothing she could do to even check if either of them were okay as Ropes hissed and snarled, movements jerky and erratic as Sasha's orgasm rolled on and on, claiming both of them with its stringent severity. The curtains blew out into the room as Sasha's wing beats caught them, air flowing beneath to throw a splash of sunlight into the dimly lit room, the only light being what filtered in through the curtains.

The voyeur wife pressed her back to the wall, eyes watering as yet another framed picture - she'd have to fix the things down better if they were going to be knocking them off all over the place - leapt to its death, glass splintering into the carpet. But it was Ropes who caused the most damaged as he flung his paw back over his head, presumably to clutch at the head board, and succeeded in punching a hole through the plaster, a dark, gaping crack in the foundation of what had been their first bedroom as a married couple.

Fyr sucked in a breath, demon and dragoness writhing together as ecstasy overcame Ropes' mind too and he climaxed with his traditional, feral yowl. Only there was something even wilder in it, something untamed that could not be tamed, perhaps as long as Fyr had possibly tried.

Maybe that had been where she'd gone wrong all along.

They came down slowly, Sasha's wings falling and softening into the curves of her back. The raggedness was still there, but there was a warmer edge to how her body was set, leaning forward to rest her paws on Ropes' chest as she caught her breath. The cougar purred and wrapped his tentacles around her breasts, caressing and squeezing them gently, but it was only Fyr that caught the erotic vibration of Sasha's hips pushing towards her husband as those tentacles slipped sinuously from the holes in her sides.

Breathless, Sasha collapsed on top of Ropes who, to his credit, merely grunted as her weight thumped down onto him.

"Hope that helped, honey..." She murmured, eyes half-lidded in pleasant sexual exhaustion. "I'll help again in a bit, but oh... Those... Your tentacles..."

It was the most she could get out as Ropes tangled himself around her, a mess of limbs and tentacles and tails that seemed to go together so perfectly that it was a wonder that they'd ever been apart.

But Fr was still there with questions brimming over her lips, raking her mother and her husband over with her eyes as she checked them for injuries. How could they fuck like that? Ropes had never been that rough with her! And the wall... She winced. That would come later, but was Sasha okay? And what about the egg - the hatchling?

Sasha had one paw on her rounded belly, though there was no disturbance to the scales or in the shape of the curve, allowing Fyr to breathe a rather loud sigh of relief. There were still matters to be attended to, but it was the one that did not yet have a voice of their own that most concerned her. Sasha and Ropes could tell her if they were hurt. An egg could not.

The dragoness licked her lips, shook her head and tucked her tail down to her ankles, eyes wide and almost unblinking. The wings... The tentacles... Just what had happened?

"Mom..." Fyr whispered, reluctant to disturb them as they sprawled on the bed, a purring and murmuring mess of limbs and sweaty fur and scales. "Mom... You've got to get up. I need to take a better look at you."

The authority in her voice was weak at best and Sasha grumbled to herself as she rolled over onto her front, at least allowing Fyr to cast her eye over her bare shoulder blades. But what she found there was far from the normal, smooth scales she was used to, another revelation that set her head spinning and her paw reaching for the vodka, just to steady her nerves later on.

The nubs growing, like a shaft swelling with blood, on her shoulder blades, the exact inverse of the holes that had appeared in her stomach, were the same shade as Ropes' very dark green-brown tentacles, the texture uncannily alike. Fyr swallowed as one seemed to pulse, swelling within itself as it hardened and filled with blood.

Two, she noted faintly. There were only two. Perhaps that was something. Perhaps that was nothing. Perhaps it was everything. Who could know?

She stared at her mother, willing her to open her eyes again and show that flash of green, but the dragoness was too tired to humour her daughter, who, admittedly, was only asking her to open her eyes through the medium of telepathy. Could she have imagined it? Oh, she wished in her heart of hearts that she had dreamed the whole matter up, but she could not deny what she had seen with her own eyes, even if her mind was struggling to comprehend it in its entirety.

Fyr put her head in her paws, chest rising and falling rapidly as she tried and failed to control the rate of her breath. Too much... It was all too much and it wasn't even her boundaries being pushed, just the line between the mortal and the immortal, those of her world and those of the place where Ropes had come from - the place that he never wanted to talk about. And if her mother sprouted tentacles from her back and took on eyes that glowed, lacking any kind of iris... Fyr gulped down her trepidation. Just what did that make her mother?

The dragoness stared at the roundness of her mother's belly, showing as the older dragon squirmed sleepily onto her side, though Fyr was sure that she'd find her second wind in no time at all. If she squinted at the curve at just the right angle, she could almost believe that it was moving.

But eggs didn't move. Not like that. Fyr shook herself. Everyone knew that. With her mother becoming something else, something dangerous, however, anything seemed possible and the impossible became merely the improbable.

She rubbed her head, temples pounding. A groan burst unbidden from her lips, but no one took any notice of her. Thought after thought raced through her mind, attention wholly focused on her mother and not her own condition, at least for once. If she'd been in a less dire situation, Fyr would have been surprised at her own lack of restraint and arousal to say the very least.

What was the hatchling doing to her? One thing, however, was certain in Fyr's mind as her mother curled up with her husband, their tails intertwined sensually as if they had been lovers for many years. In all sense, perhaps they would be yet. But as to what was happening to Sasha as her pregnancy progressed?

Well, no normal doctor would be able to answer that question.