FSE

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Cuckolded by Her Mother

Chapter Eighteen

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Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)

Commissioned by Fyrdrgon

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It took Fyr longer than she should have been proud to admit that she welcomed the kiss, leaning into Scott as her eyes closed to the troubles of the world around them. Her fingers twitched, although she did not yet raise them to encircle his neck, his tongue brushing hers so tentatively that it was as if he was asking for permission without words. Of course, words would require him to break the kiss and, so, words were not had between them.

The barn door slammed open, bouncing off the opposite wall as a pigeon startled from the rafters with a coo and a rapid fluttering of feathers, wings seemingly too small to get such a plump body airborne.

And she snapped back to reality, rose tinted glasses flying off to be buried in some dark and dusty corner where she could never be tempted, not even for a moment, to slide them curiously back up her snout. The stoat flinched, their eyes opening at the same time, too close for comfort as they lent a shocking clarity to the false intimacy of the moment. For it had to be false - oh, it could not possibly be anything else!

Fyr's heart pounded, the dragoness shooting away from the stoat as if she'd been stung. And she may as well have been, or perhaps at least electrified, as the tingle of his kiss lingered on her lips. Without thinking, her paw rose automatically to brush them. How long had it been since she'd been kissed like that?

Only, she wasn't supposed to be kissing the stoat. She wasn't even sure that she was supposed to be kissing anyone with her status in the household! And her husband... Despite her knowledge of his carnal relations with, well, pretty much anyone and everyone, including her very own mother and his turning long-term lover, she reeled from the notion of cheating herself. It was wrong! It was just that she let him do what he wanted: yes, that was it. She would never have been able to stop a demon of lust from cheating and, although she'd thought she could temper it some, she'd always known that she'd have to see things a little differently.

Only, she'd never realised how much her life would change with the demon cougar over the years they spent together. It had changed so that their time dating, in fact, was completely and utterly unrecognisable.

Bare hind paws entered the barn, claws scraping lightly. Fyr winced. Whoever was there, they needed trimming.

"Fyr?"

Her heart tightened in her throat, pulse racing. Her mother! Just what the hell was she doing at the barn? Surely she didn't follow her there? It was obvious, of course, that she was there - where else would she seek refuge in a storm? - but she had not expected to be so disturbed. And much less at the very moment that her lips touched those soft, warm ones of Scott's, her memory burning with still vibrant sensation.

The stoat in question was up on his hind paws too, though Fyr could not have, in hindsight, pinpointed the exact moment that she found herself up on her paws too, trembling so badly that it was a wonder that she was able to stand at all. He mouth opened and closed several times without any sound coming out as her mother called again, closer and closer with every passing second.

Thankfully, Scott, at least, had some words, even if they weren't particularly eloquent ones.

"Ma'am, I really should be on my way now," he said, shuffling his hind paws awkwardly as he shuffled away. "I... Oh..."

It seemed that he had not the words to capture what had just happened either and, like Scott, Fyr chose to completely and utterly pretend that it had never happened.

"Yes, yes!" She trilled, her voice a lot higher pitched than it normally was, eyes wide and darting. "That's quite alright, thank you so much for coming in on your day off and do let me know what I owe you, yes? We'll keep the books right, won't we? Ha ha ha!"

The laugh was forced, a space between each false exclamation of amusement - what the hell could be amusing about such a situation? - but her heart was pounding too wildly to call any sense of rationality to her mind. Blood roared in her ears, worse even than the sickening, chilling shocks that had becoming a common occurrence under Ropes and Sasha's dominant paws, and she floundered to get something into her paws, anything at all to occupy her twitching, anxious fingers.

The egg! Cursing herself, she lunged for it, thankfully still perched on the bench in its little nest of blankets. But how could she have possibly forgotten it when it was so very important? Fyr stiffened, cradling the egg beneath her breasts as if she was afraid someone, maybe her mother on her approach, was going to snatch it away and claim it as their own. Though, that was really a silly thought when she spent the time to consider her desire. After all, it wasn't as if the egg was actually hers.

But maybe she just needed something to call hers, at any cost possible.

"Fyr! There you are!"

Her mother smiled, though it wasn't as wide as her usual wicked grin, coming to a halt a few feet from her daughter and the stoat. Tipping an imagined hat to the older dragoness, Scott mumbled, red in the face and inner ears, and made good his escape, although something pulled in Fyr to see him disappearing so swiftly. Did she really like him? Or was it just that he sat and paid her the attention she'd been craving for so long.

"Oh, Scott, I didn't realise..."

But the stoat was already gone, tail flicking as he whisked himself good and away around the corner as if the hounds of hell were on his heels. And, for all he knew, they could have been. For once, Sasha trailed off, shaking her head at the stoat's rapidly retreating back, one eyebrow ever so slightly raised.

"Well. That's rather rude of him now, don't you think?"

Fyr snapped back to her, the memory of what she'd just done rushing from her mind as her paws, once again, curled into fists.

"Rude?" She growled, lips pulling back from her teeth as if to expose them all the more ferociously. "Do you really think you're one to be talking about others supposedly being rude here?"

Sasha's expression instantly flicked back to the aggressive, a dark note overcoming her muzzle as she lifted her ragged wings high, flaring them out to their full extent. To her credit, Fyr didn't even flinch but remained steadfast, standing her ground as her mother hissed.

"You're_needed_, oh daughter of mine."

Fyr snorted.

"What's that sort of language come from? You sound like Ropes when he's trying to be all fancy, like. No more 'y'all' from you then, is it?"

She couldn't have poked the bear more and Sasha snarled, lips pulling back along the line of her teeth as she advanced, emerald eyes flashing. Against herself, Fyr shivered. She'd never quite get used to how they now glowed like the pale white of her husband's eyes without an iris or even a pupil. Sometimes, she imagined that she saw the shadow of a pupil, deep inside, but always had to put it down to a trick of the light for she had found no other explanation for the yearning in her hear.

Ah, things could have been so very different. So very, very different.

And, yet, they weren't.

"I suggest you refrain from speaking to me in such a crass manner, daughter," Sasha hissed, the words one long, roiling stream from a maw that flickered with smoke and flame. "You are forgetting your place."

But, in putting her in her place, they had given her a foundation to stand tall from and Fyr did just that, folding her arms around the egg, pulling it higher, and not even giving her mother's display the scant time of day.

"Mother, you know you're putting this on. So, why don't y'all cut it out now and you can take your egg back like a good mother to care for it, hm?"

The last utterance was a shade more mocking than she would have liked but she made her point well enough, Sasha reeling back as if she had been physically struck across the muzzle. Of course, it was doubtful that Fyr would be able to move her mother even an inch if things came to blows now but the force of her words still held as strong as ever. That tiny, little, minuscule victory gave her some sense of purpose, the dragoness setting her shoulder blades back.

"You've neglected it," she said, frankly and plainly without a scrap of traitorous emotion in her voice. "Fix it. You'll be the one they look to when they hatch. Or did you think you were going to play me off as the mother?"

For, as much as she longed to have the egg for her own - or an egg of her own, for that matter - Fyr knew that the youngster, a demon like its parents, would know that she was not its birth mother, whether they ended up being male or female. They would so clearly be a hybrid and, even at the feline end of the scale, there would not be anything in their genes to draw a crimson tint to their scales nor a stripe to their hide. No, that had been something she'd gotten from her father's genetics and there could be no hiding.

And, so, it was time to force both of them to face the inevitable, both the mother and the nanny. Or maybe an 'aunt' would be more appropriate. The exact term did not matter, only the purpose of the discussion.

Sasha fell quiet, wings softening just a little as they drew in closer to her back.

"An egg does not require the care you think it does, Fyr," she said, her tone altogether softer and more reasonable. "We are not required to heat them with our bodies like our kind did in times of old. The climate here is well enough to ensure they are kept at a comfortable temperature for a hatchling to grow."

Fyr raised an eyebrow. Impressive. Almost. Kind of.

Damn...

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"And just where did you hear that," Fyr pressed, refusing to give an inch. "The books I gave you? I thought they were busy gathering dust somewhere under your bed."

"Yes."

The quiet admittance drew Fyr up, although the dragoness continued to eye her mother sceptically, the barn ringing clear with an eerie kind of silence. A cloud swept over the sun outside, turning the inside into an artificial twilight without the lights turned on (the electrical wiring and running water for the barn had been sorted a few weeks back). Neither, however, moved to turn the light on, two pairs of eyes locked in the gloom with an egg between them.

"I did read them," her mother continued, quietly, levelly, as if she was preparing for something more. "I read every one of them."

Fyr laughed, though it came out hoarse and raw without a trace of humour. Just where had that gone too?

"Really now? I hardly believe that."

And just when had she become so coarse and callous too? Fyr didn't recognise herself like she didn't recognise the relationships she found herself trapped in, as much as she enjoyed a considerable amount of what she was trapped in.

"I found time."

"Between you fucking everyone else and my husband fucking you, no doubt."

To Fyr's shock, Sasha didn't even deny it. She didn't launch herself at her daughter and she didn't growl - neither did she snarl. No, Sasha did not make a single noise bar a long, heavy sigh that Fyr could have given herself as if the cliché of the weight of the whole world rested on her shoulders, a dead weight that was hers and hers alone to bear.

Against herself, something in Fyr's heart pulled. She wanted to comfort her mother, wrap her arms around her and say how sorry she was, although she didn't really have anything at all to be sorry for, not truly. She wanted to be in her good books, the good little dragoness she'd been when she was younger and the good submissive dragoness they were, slowly but surely, training her to be.

She could be that, couldn't she? Fyr wavered, arms tightening around the egg, hardly realising that she still held it, as it had become such an intrinsic part of her since it had been laid. What did her mother need from her to be proud of her again, for her to see that look of disappointment and sadness wiped from her muzzle, never, ever to return?

She'd kissed Scott.

Fyr swallowed. As small as her comparable transgression was, if it even was a transgression at all, it was still there, a lingering niggle of guilt that overpowered the taste of him residing on her lips.

"Okay, mom..."

Fyr hated herself for giving in and yet it came with such an intoxicating rush of relief that it was no wonder she had let it come too. Inhaling deeply, her lungs expanded in such a way that she had not been able to manage since she'd left her mother in a rage at the house, head spinning as if a lack of oxygen had truly been the problem all along.

"It's okay..." Fyr shuddered, taking a juddering breath and then another. "I'm sorry. I know things are rough right now and that's an understatement. I meant what I said but I could have gone about it better."

Her lips pressed into a thin, hard line and the dragoness shook her head.

"Yes, I most definitely meant what I said."

She could not, after all, give all the ground if she wanted to retain some sense of self. There was a part of an apology to be made for part of the problem but the rest was not to come from her lips at the end of the day. And, sometimes, one had to make the first move in order to allow the other to shift from position.

"I'm sorry too, Fyr," her mother said quietly, so quietly that Fyr actually had to strain to hear her. "I didn't think about how this was affecting you but it is. I thought you liked it..."

"I do!" Fyr surprised herself with how quickly the words leapt to her lips, flushing hot to hear them. "It's just... Things are different now and I think we have to all sit down together and talk about, you know, how things are going to be from here."

She couldn't have been more shocked to see her mother nodding along, the older dragoness somehow finding the grace in herself to, at least, appear somewhat abashed. Folding her wings in close to her back, the dragoness clad in some band T-shirt that was too old for Fyr to recognise stepped forward, making an attempt to close the distance between them.

"I know," she said simply, although Fyr could not help but feel, rightly so, that there was so much more she could say along with that. "I know. But we need to go home first. And then..." She sighed. "Then, we can talk."

For the time being, that would have to be good enough in Fyr's mind. The dragoness found herself nodding, exhausting clawing at the corners of her mind as her mother held out her paws for the egg.

"Leave the truck here. You look like you're dead on your feet, darling."

And, so, Fyr handed over the egg gratefully, relinquished of its responsibility if but for a time, and allowed herself to be guided to her mother's sports car - a purchase that Fyr still refused to comment on - as exhaustion well and truly claimed her. She dozed in the passenger seat, drifting in and out of consciousness as the events of the day came to a head and she was forced to acknowledge just what she'd done, at least in part. She didn't quite have to reveal it as yet, if ever, yet it would forever weigh heavy on her heart.

She'd kissed Scott.

That was her mess to sort out.

*

Yet the discussion her mother promised did not come that day nor the next as Fyr woke with a pounding headache and a sore throat that rendered talking impossible. For once, she was allowed to sleep in the warmth and comfort of her own bed with her husband beside her, although it was a shame that she was not entirely with reality enough to truly appreciate it. She didn't know where Sasha slept and she wasn't in her mind enough to care, just thankful to have a mattress beneath her again and Ropes' arm around her of a night.

If she didn't think about the egg, its presence looming in the cradling sling that Sasha had purchased for it, carrying it around with her easily, she could imagine that all was well again. She could have been in a normal house with her mother visiting perfectly normal and everything could have been so very plain and frightfully normal that she might very well have dropped off dead asleep from the very threat of it. Things could have been just like the life of any other fur in her town, if she thought hard enough about it or simply deigned to remember the parts that made her stomach coil and twist.

And then she wouldn't have had the pleasure, the dragoness' needs still yearning to be sated despite her being taken by illness. For the body did not know that it would recover shortly and she groaned, paws between her legs when she was left alone during the day, bringing herself to orgasm after orgasm as she fantasised about Ropes fucking her mother.

Even her fogged up mind couldn't deny what she loved.

Still, the lapse was not to last forever and she was well aware that change and the conversation was coming, although the dragoness swiftly tired of lying around in bed all day. There was only so much on the little bedroom TV to watch and books to read (most had been given away in preparation for the later move, though they would undoubtedly be replaced with new texts from the second-hand bookshops) and, well, time with her paws between her legs was all well enough but that was tiring too, as silly as it sounded to say. She was glad when she could get out of bed again and stretch out her muscles, padding to the shower with the upstairs hallway only tilting a little as vertigo threatened the edges of her mind.

The days that followed were better and Fyr returned to work, the promise of the conversation with Sasha nearly forgotten as she was, once again, relegated back to the sofa before the move. She had not quite realised just how much she'd enjoyed the comfort of having a mattress and, even as she regained her full strength after what she could only say was a bad bout of flu, she threw herself into work on the ranch.

Still, she avoided Scott and he avoided her. The little agreement they had - unspoken, of course - to not say a word about anything at all that had happened seemed to be working well enough as long as they did not spend much time in each other's presence. He stopped doing extra work on the ranch for which she was both disappointed and glad. Whereas it left her bank account looking ever so slightly healthier, it didn't do much for her mind and wondering what could have happened, if things had only been different.

But things were not different and she was going to have to find a way out of the mess, one way or another.

Returning home from work with a groan, Fyr hung her handbag up behind the front door and shrugged out of her jacket, fanning herself with a paw. The sun had come out and, although it was a welcome sight, it still baked the pavement, rendering more than a shirt an absolute travesty, if anyone were to ask her. Of course, no one asked her and she instead grumbled in silence on her walk home from the bus station, her truck in the shop to have some work done. For once, it wasn't a part she could easily acquire but at least her friend in the shop was going to cut her a deal on the work. Anything to do with the engine, as long as that bastard lasted, was beyond the scope of the time she currently had available to do the work herself too.

"Fyr? Can you come upstairs, sweetie?"

She hardly thought about the request, sickly sweet, her hind paws already moving to obey as she traipsed slowly up the stairs with every last scrap of energy she had. It had been a long day, too long of a day, and there had been far too much still to catch up on at work from her time off. Who knew that she was so important to the day to day running of that place? It had been a blessing, at first, but the additional workload did nothing to ease the strain already on her mind from her more personal affairs.

"Mom?" Fyr paused at the top of the stairs. "Where are you?"

"Bedroom, honey."

She should have exercised more caution, perhaps even made up an excuse to leave, but Fyr was too tired to be wary as she pushed open the bedroom door. And, perhaps, she should have been far less surprised than she was to find her husband and her mother in there, both naked from head to toe with a certain cougar's cream spilling thickly from the older dragoness' pussy.

Groaning, Sasha rocked her hips up from the bed, tongue hanging from her muzzle as she cast her daughter a sultry look.

"I heard you were looking for a little attention, sweetie..."

Fyr froze, blood going cold. Oh fuck... Her heart pounded but she didn't feel it, eyes sliding sideways to glance at her reflection in the full-length mirror they'd left leaning against the wall in the upstairs hallway, the dragoness not yet having crossed the threshold into the bedroom itself. It was a stupid place to leave it, in all honesty, but they'd started moving some things that they rarely used down to the ranch, just so they didn't have quite so much of a massive job to tackle between them later on. But, looking in it, she could have been seeing herself in another world or on a screen, set back from the situation as her chest rose and fell shallowly, the dragoness not even aware of her breath, though it was most certainly in her lungs.

"...so eat me out."

She jerked back to reality, head reeling. Oh, hellfire - what had her mother said? It certainly hadn't been about Scott but that didn't fucking help her either!

Blinking rapidly, the dragoness clung to the last thing she heard and, too hastily, dropped to her knees and shoved her nose into Sasha's spread pussy, two blue fingers holding the lips parted as if for her attention. The last thing she saw before her tongue stroked those folds was the messy creampie her husband had left in his mate - although it had to have been several heavy loads for how thickly it was drooling out of her - and then her tongue was deep inside her mother, lashing and flicking desperately.

Hey, if it kept her mother quiet and away from the dark little truth Fyr was keeping all to herself, who was she to complain?

"Fyr!" Sasha groaned, her head falling back into Ropes' lap, the cougar's cock soft against his thigh. "Oh... You are eager! You want to give up getting off yourself, hm, is it, honey? You want to just please us tonight?"

Fyr flinched and growled, cursing herself. She might have had a chance at something fun if only she'd been listening and not stood stock still like a deer in the headlights, though it was only a lesson she could learn for later times. She nodded eagerly as if she'd been of complete understanding all along, burying her nose in her mother's cunt as she slurped and suckled the cum from her, tainted with the dragoness' strong flavour.

"Oh, what a good girl," Sasha cooed, relishing the act of submission from her daughter. "You do your job now, my good little slutty dragon..."

And Fyr didn't even mind being called a slut as her ears perked to the sound of her husband kissing her mother, his lips working his way down her muzzle to her throat, drawing the sweetest squeaks and hisses from her lips. It was a wonder to Fyr that a demon could be so gentle after all she'd seen from the two of them and, of course, the extent to which they'd taken to wrecking whatever room they were in. Perhaps they were a little more restrained with the prospect of selling the house coming up soon but Fyr didn't have time to think about that as Sasha growled, a heavy paw coming down on the back of her head to force her in even closer.

"Harder!"

What could Fyr do but obey? Losing herself in the taste of her mother, she curled her tongue around the dragoness' throbbing clit and purred lustfully, letting the vibrations stimulate her mother even further. It seemed to take everything the dragoness had and more to keep herself from thrashing wildly under the sweet flick of Fyr's tongue, the dragon knowing everything she could and had to do in order to truly satisfy her mother. She knew all her little sweet spots and what made her toes curl and flex on the brink of orgasm and, well, Fyr was not a dragoness to forgo using every last arrow in her quiver when the opportunity so presented itself.

And it was so sweet to be on her knees again. Fyr moaned as she slipped deeper and deeper into the sweetly submissive space where everything was alright, not just appearing okay, again. It was where she wanted to be and she hungrily chased the high, her fix, as she suckled wantonly on her mother's clit. It didn't matter that her own needs were rising and rising more and more with every passing second as long as she stayed where it was safe and happy and peaceful, her mind and body under the control of others who deemed her one of theirs, a dragoness that they could keep in their home to serve them.

That part of her didn't want anything more than that and she mewled into her mother's sex as Sasha grabbed at her frills, claws accidentally pinching in her urgency, the frenzy of orgasm very nearly within the older dragoness' grasp.

"Fuck - honey, I'm... Ah!"

But her exclamation was not for Fyr's ears as, suddenly, her mother's legs tightened around her head and muzzle, closing in to hold her quite firmly in place as she bucked and ground up against her daughter's snout. It didn't matter to Sasha that her thrusts thwacked Fyr repeatedly, bringing stars to her eyes, but it did matter that her daughter kept licking, which she ensured by keeping her head right where it was supposed to be, the dragoness lapping and lapping up every drop of fresh cream as her mother stained her muzzle.

Fyr did not understand immediately when her mother released her head, legs moving apart to allow her to bring a halt to her sweet administrations. Without thinking about what she was doing, the dragoness lapped the length of her mother's pussy over and over again, the soft lips gleaming with her saliva as the holes in her sides, designed for Ropes' tentacles to slip sweetly into, flushed hot with need, still unsatisfied. But that was a part of her that only a demon could tame and perhaps even then it was a mere semblance of taming wrapped up in lust.

"Fyr... Fyr, easy..."

Sasha chuckled throatily as she pushed her daughter away, relaxing back across the bed with her arms flung up over her head. Ropes purred and ran his fingertips tenderly down her body, only stretching as far as he could go without physically moving from his seat, whiskers quivering lustfully.

Taking a breath, Fyr blinked and pulled back, putting on her best sheepish grin. It was funny how she could get so lost in the moment but it was hard to keep the smile from her lips as it melted from sheepish to simply blissful. They made it so, so easy sometimes.

Why couldn't it be like that all of the time?

Sasha crooked a finger in her direction, the tip of her tail curling wantonly back and forth as she beckoned.

"If you really want something to such, darling, take care of my nipples," she murmured huskily, eyes half-lidded in the afterglow. "Such an eager little thing you are..."

Her mother's nipples perked hard and full into her maw as she took one then the other carefully between her lips, moaning softly as she suckled, playing her tongue across the firm nubs of warm flesh. It was one of the few parts of her that was not scaled - part of their evolution over the many, many years of being anthros and not feral dragons from times long gone by - but Fyr could not help but think it was a very nice development indeed, allowing her to nip oh so lightly and hear her mother moan...

"Oh..."

Just like that.

Oh, it was the best sound in the world and she wanted to hear it over and over again, nipping and slurping at her mother's nipples as the dragoness squirmed beneath her. Too quickly, however, she was pulled away from her mother's breasts as Ropes took the dragoness in his arms, kissing her deeply as she groaned, her tongue twining lustfully around his.

Fyr knew when she'd been dismissed and she crouched at the foot of the bed, eyes darting from side to side as if she couldn't quite decide where she needed to be looking. Was she needed? Did they want her to stay? Her mother had called her in, so she supposed she'd better stay put for the moment, at least...

"Fyr!"

The dragoness jumped as if she'd been caught napping on the job and sat up straight to attention, tail flicking guiltily. Her mother shook her head at her and sighed heavily, Ropes chuckling to her back. There was no humour in Sasha's tone, however, as she continued with a sharp, decisive snap of her fingers.

"Get those clothes off you, sugar," Sasha said, clicking her tongue disapprovingly against the roof of her mouth. "You're not fit to be seen like that!"

And Fyr didn't have to think, smiling to herself as she unbuttoned her work blouse and let it drop to the floor to be tied up and put in the laundry later. The only time she was supposed to collect fallen clothes in the bedroom was when she'd been dismissed from sexual pleasure and that certainly had not yet happened - and so she did what she was told as a good little dragoness should.

There was no strip show when it came to her taking her clothes off: no one was watching. Maybe they should have enjoyed their little submissive dragoness' display as she slipped off her work trousers too but the underwear she had chosen was nothing on the sensual silk that Sasha had taken to wearing. If the dragoness donned anything below the outer layer of clothes (which, frankly, wasn't often either) it was of the utmost elegance with a price tag attached too. If not for Ropes' job, they would have struggled, although the cougar seemed to have a rather flexible schedule in comparison to what he did before. Fyr supposed it was one of the perks of being a demon who was also very good at what he did.

"Up here."

The dragoness barely looked at her daughter even as she pointed to the spot on the bed where she was to lie. And all Fyr could do was obey, now naked from head to toe as she lay on her back and, well...waited. And waited.

It was hard to wait when Sasha was entwined with her husband, her tail encircling his waist as she moaned like a slut, wanton for his attention above all else. And, of course, Ropes was all too eager to give it all to her, pushing her onto all fours above Fyr's prone body as he yowled lustfully, cock hard and ready for the wrong dragon.

"Oh, such a stud..." Sasha purred. "I need you now more than ever after those others... No one compares to you."

Oh, she was so very sweet in her flattery and Ropes lapped it up, the figurative cat with the cream, as the dragoness arched over her daughter, positioning her pussy within easy reach of her daughter's muzzle. But it was not for her even as Fyr whined and tried to reach it, tongue poking comically from her muzzle.

"Ah-ah," her mother murmured, wagging a disapproving finger. "You need teaching a lesson... You only do what we tell you to do, Fyr, and you should know your place. Your place in giving pleasure and bending to our will. You've been pushing the rules and wanting your muzzle down there, haven't you? Well, now I'm going to show you just what this pussy is actually for!"

Ropes frowned.

"But I can't fuck you as hard with her under you," he pointed out. "Shouldn't we just send her away...dear?"

Fyr shuddered. Once, he'd called her dear. Once, it had only been her. But it was better this way. So very, very much better.

"No," Sasha purred, casting her daughter a look that rang through with pity. "She will have to watch and see what a better lover you are with me, because you can be rough with me. She's the one that always held you back."

Fyr swallowed hard and closed her eyes. She could have mentioned all the other partners she'd seen Ropes with, all of which he'd had to be just as careful with as he had been with her, though it didn't seem to matter when it came down to humiliating her.

"Oh!"

Sasha moaned overly loudly as his cock thrust into her, the cougar finding his mark as his knee jammed into Fyr's side, uncaring of the discomfort he caused her as he took his true demoness lover. The dragoness sucked in a breath, heart in her mouth as she locked her gaze on the cock above her, the cock she adored, ploughing into her very own mother. No matter how many times she saw it, heard the lewd slurp of sexual juices, it never quite got old. The dragoness moaned without thinking, fingers twitching from where her paws rested at her side, but Ropes and Sasha barely paid her any mind at all, intent on their own pleasure to the detriment of hers.

But she would take what she could from it anyway and Fyr grunted softly in the back of her throat as she hungrily drank in the sight above her, her mother's pussy lips stretching around Ropes' delectable shaft with every single sweet, ploughing thrust. Fyr's hips rolled as if she was imagining him thrusting into her too but she wasn't thinking, jaws hanging open as she leaned in closer, fingers curled around her mother's thighs just to keep them in place. Her sex burned, desperate for attention that she had not the permission to allow, and the dragoness groaned lowly, tail flicking where it hung off over the edge of the bed.

"Fuck me harder!" Sasha howled, slamming her hips back into each and every one of Ropes' thrusts. "Like you should have been fucking her! If she - ah! - could ever fuck you like that!"

Ropes snarled, black lips peeling back from his teeth, tentacles winding lovingly around Sasha's limbs as his hips sped up, a blur of brown fur slapping blue scales. Fyr whimpered, meeting her mother's eyes for the briefest of moments as her mother's head hung down, wings flared as she lost every last sliver of herself in lust only to find something altogether more divine in the loss of reality.

"Or maybe," she hissed, grunting as Ropes' cock slammed deep into her. "You're not indulging yourself when you lap my cunny now, are you, my little slut of a cuck-daughter? Maybe you just want your muzzle between my thighs because it's the closest you can get to your husband's cock!"

The words stung and yet Fyr could do nothing about it, growling and rocking her own hips as she yearned to tuck her paw between her thighs, pushing herself over the brink of an orgasm that was surely sorely needed. Yet, she could not, for she hadn't been told to do so and she knew that she couldn't hope that Ropes or Sasha would take pity on her and fuck her to climax themselves - not when they had each other to fuck and enjoy. No, the only way they could use her was gently, for she was far more breakable than their demon selves and something suitable for use only in highly select situations.

That day was not the right day for her.

Ropes' claws jabbed into the dragoness' hips but she didn't notice, growling as her words became one roiling hiss, a demand for him to fuck her, to cum in her, to put another egg in her. Fyr trembled but what could she do to stop them? Using condoms was hardly something they'd ever even considered and, of course, Ropes' cock was as bare and uncut as always. Whether or not he seeded another egg in the fertile demoness' belly was beyond her control and Fyr clutched ever more desperately at her mother as his thrusts sped up and up, being as rough as he possibly could with Fyr beneath them.

And yet the cougar could not last forever, letting out a roar that would have better befitted a lion, perhaps, as he reached his high, hips juddering all the way up to her hips as he swore and pushed Sasha's tail over his shoulder from where it had been trapped against his chest. The cougar leaned over her, fur matted with sweat down his sides but that was hardly going to stop him from pumping his load into her and even less so when she too screamed in climax, thrashing like a wildcat beneath him.

Cursing breathlessly, Ropes clung onto Sasha with every ounce of strength he had in his body, chest pinning her down as her arms trembled, threatening to drop both of their combined weights onto the dragoness beneath them. But Fyr hardly noticed her predicament as she groaned, watching spellbound, as Ropes' balls tugged up, cock twitching and pulsing as spurt after spurt of virile cougar-cream was pumped into the lusty dragoness. The dragoness' crotch seemed to pull and tighten as muscles worked beneath her scales, orgasm clearly pounding through her with the force of a herd of wild horses, although there was nothing that even a demoness could do to control their senses in the throes of a truly spectacular climax. And that was all her demons knew of sex.

Would Scott fuck as roughly as Ropes, or would he be tender?

No! Fyr blushed heavily and pushed the thought from her mind, tail tucked down as her mother's juices, mixed with her husband's cum, trickled from her pussy, forced out along Ropes' length even as he continued to thrust, needing to keep going even as her pussy undoubtedly clenched and rippled around his cock. There was no way any male could have held back from that and Fyr knew all too well just how her mother's cunt felt when it squeezed around her fingers, near enough trapping them inside.

Ropes' tentacles slipped back from the dragoness' limbs and Fyr bit her lip, remembering back when it had been her who had been held in his warm embrace. She'd slept with his chest to her back, arms around her, and, in the early hours of the morning, he'd pushed into her. Could she ever have that again or was it something that had been completely and utterly lost forever?

It was funny the thoughts one had when watching someone climax but Fyr drifted further and further into sweet submission, pushing down the dark curl of guilt in the pit of her stomach the best she could. It was still there, however, and would have to be addressed but not yet. Not yet. She would hold out just a little while yet and see if she could make good from her twisted life before thinking about coming clean. And perhaps she wouldn't even admit it then, keeping her thoughts and wants to herself as she served her superiors in the best way she knew how.

Her secret would linger. But she would still enjoy the lust of being a cuckold wife in the meantime, her husband's cum splattering her muzzle as he pulled out of her mother, leaving a messy creampie in her cunt. Semen oozed out viscously, so much that it didn't seem right that it was only a single load, and Fyr moaned as she held her muzzle open for it, letting all the drops she could catch slip down her throat as Ropes growled and rolled his shoulder blades back.

Yes, she could enjoy, regardless of what surely lay in wait. But she could be a good little cuckold dragoness if only they let her. She could be good again, she really would.

For a time, at least.