FSE

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Cuckolded by Her Mother

Chapter Seventeen

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Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)

Commissioned by Fyrdrgon

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Fyr curled her tail around her legs, knees drawn up to her chest, and stared at the egg unblinkingly. It was so innocent, sitting in its little nest of blankets, a type of swaddling that was for draconian-type eggs only. Due to the fire inside drakes and dragonesses, the eggs often required a little more warmth than expected, although she was thankful that the egg had, at least, been born in moderate months where it was neither scorching nor freezing. That would have been difficult on either end of the scale.

Of course, it was her that had learned about how to care for a dragon's egg many months back, if not years. She had made no pretence of not wanting a family with Ropes and, well, it seemed that she'd got it, even if it was a side stranger than she ever could have expected and anticipated. Perhaps it was even better than what she'd imagined with a little red and yellow dragoness running around their feet and a cougar son with tentacles just like his father.

Fyr pressed her lips firmly together. That one was a dream for another time and another life. She wasn't so sure her husband would ever sleep with her enough ever again for his seed to bear the fruit of young in her womb. Not when he had a demoness to fuck in the mortal realm, giving him everything he needed and so much more too.

No, Fyr had never been a challenge and neither had she been a conquest either. Love, yes - she had been, and still was, his love, but love simply wasn't enough for a demon who needed to feed on lust and sex, ideally daily. She'd known that when she'd married him. Yet, like every other fool in love, she'd gone head over heels over tail for a cougar who would never be hers and hers alone, regardless of the promises that passed his lips at the altar. A dragoness, much less her, could not expect that from him.

Still... The dragoness pressed her fingers to the side of her mouth, caressing her lips as if to wipe away the light smile tugging at them. She'd rather be his love in a very strange relationship than to have never met the devilishly handsome cougar in the first place. Yes, Ropes had well and truly stolen her heart and, honestly, she wouldn't have had it any other way.

Fyr's eyes drifted back to the egg as if she was being called by a higher power, eyes half cast into shadow as trouble reigned within. Something in her loins tightened and she groaned, pressing her forehead down to her knees, just so that she didn't have to look at the egg, if only for a moment. It would still be there when she dared look up once more.

Her husband's egg... Her husband's hatchling.

She shuddered and drew further into herself, shoulders cold in her sleeveless shirt, although she could not quite find the energy to source out something to keep the evening nip from her scales. That would take her away from the egg. And she had to keep watch over the egg.

The maternal instinct that had risen in her didn't seem to apply to Sasha, however, who bounded and bounced around the house, rejoicing in her smoothing, flattening stomach. As a demoness, it seemed to take her no time at all to return to her normal, trim figure, though there was something more of a sway in her hips than she could have laid claim to previously. Sasha flounced around with a new spring in her step but hardly took any interest in the egg she'd laid at all, instead spending all of her time with Ropes and...

"Fyyyyyyrrrrr!"

The dragoness winced and huddled back down into herself, mantling her wings around her shoulders like a cape that could protect her from the elements. But the only element that she needed distance from was fire and that was perfectly embodied in the heart and soul of her _dear_mother.

She was going to find her whether she answered or not and the dragoness sighed and lifted her chin defiantly from where she sat on the bedroom floor just as the door crashed open. Bouncing off the wall, the door juddered back into the pair stumbling in, arms and legs tangled together as a pair of blue lips crashed into darker ones.

Fyr stiffened. That wasn't Ropes. Not that she'd expected anything less from Sasha.

No, the dragoness had found herself a stud of a zebra that Fyr would have swooned at if times had been different. The beast was devoid of a shirt, his Mohawk of a mane standing straight up from the back of his neck, and he groaned lustfully into Sasha's muzzle as her paws fumbled and worked at his belt, slipping his jeans down around his hips to reveal the massive bulge in his underwear.

But Fyr's eyes did not once leave the egg, watching them only out of the corner of her eye as her naked mother pressed up against the zebra as if he was the last male on the planet, her lust unparalleled by any other moment - except the one that would follow it.

It seemed that life as a demoness certainly suited her.

"Fyr!" Sasha giggled as the zebra kissed her neck, lips plucking at scales as he just barely grazed her with his large, blunt teeth. "Fyr, I was calling for you!"

"I heard you."

Her tone was not chilly, per se, but perfectly level, the dragon not sparing her mother her time and energy as she kept her eyes fixed on the egg. But where it resided at the head of the bed was not a safe spot and Fyr leapt into action just as the lusty couple of the afternoon tumbled onto it. Swearing under her breath, she clutched it to her chest just in time, blankets trailing from her arms as she shot her mother a glare that would have curdled milk - if Sasha had not been moaning into the zebra's mouth, that was.

"Do you even know his fucking name?"

Sasha baulked, eyes flashing that striking green. Although she knew that particular look, it did not intimidate her more because her mother was a demon. Bundling the egg up carefully against her chest, Fyr glared and hissed, wings flaring up as if she too was trying to make herself seem larger and more imposing than she actually was.

"Mom! This is getting ridiculous!" She spat, smoke roiling from her nostrils, out of her control. "You need to stop this!"

The dragoness' eyes narrowed and her partner hesitated, doubt flickering in his eyes.

"Babe, I thought you said this was okay..."

"It is!" She snapped and he recoiled as if he'd been struck, scooting back across the bed from her flailing tail. "It's fine!"

And it was fine with her husband, of course, it was; Ropes would only get his pleasurable payback on her at a later date, relishing in the challenge of scoring a better, more lustful sexual partner than Sasha in their wicked little competition. No, the only one who thought that Sasha might, well, pick up some kind of motherly instinct in the presence of her egg, waiting to hatch, was Fyr herself!

The dragoness clenched her jaw so hard that a muscle jumped at the corner, the taste of smoke thick in the back of her mouth. But no manner of clenching could keep the words from spilling forth, crude and striking as if she was trying to land that final blow.

"You are a mother," she snarled, lips curling back from her teeth like a feral dog. "This egg is yours! Not mine!"

For she knew that she was merely s steward and nursemaid to the egg, treating it as her own for no one else would - a fact that Sasha seemed only too determined to demonstrate in every shape, way and form possible. Drawing herself up tall, the dragoness slipped off the bed and raised her ragged wings over her head, hissing like a snake as she clenched her paws into fists.

And yet Fyr did not flinch, half-turning her body so that she could better shield the egg, the obnoxious round of her shoulder jutting out towards her mother as if she was going to ram her. Sasha snorted and flipped her paw, the zebra trying to slink off to the back of the room, pulling his jeans up around his hips as his cock flopped out softly, arousal draining in the presence of two dragonesses who appeared, to all intents and purposes, to simply want to rip one another's throats out.

"Get out," Sasha growled, lowering her tone to something low and threatening, a tone that Fyr had never before heard from her, although she was not unfamiliar. "And you..."

She directed the last part of her utterance to the zebra who had his back pressed to the wall, frozen like a deer in the headlights as she turned her gaze on him, a simmering emerald.

"You... Stay."

The poor ungulate had no choice in the matter, seemingly, although Fyr only rolled her eyes and scoffed back in turn at her mother, digging her heels in.

"No!" Fyr said, raising her voice - maybe Ropes would hear her? "You're scaring him! Let the poor colt go, he doesn't know what the hell you've dragged him into here."

The zebra nodded fervently, though Fyr could not help but notice how he tensed, flexing his muscles as if reminding himself of his own strength in the moment. She had to fight down the urge to roll her eyes then, at him instead of her mother - as if he thought he could take on a demoness. Brute strength wouldn't be enough to best a demon, let alone one drawn up to heights of rage. Although Fyr supposed she only had herself to thank for that one.

"Oh, he's fiiiiiiine!"

Sasha's tone flipped from aggressive to breezy like the flip of a switch, the difference between bright sunshine and inky shadow. Her demoness nature, Fyr had learned, was as changeable as the weather and she held back a sigh as she matched her mother in challenge, turning her shoulders back square to face her.

"This is my house too, you know."

Fyr spoke so quietly that anyone would have had to strain to hear her but the zebra's eyes, for some reason, widened in the background of the self-orchestrated scene.

"I deserve to be here. This was my bedroom. But this is not my egg..."

She glanced down at the previous bundle in her arms, tightening her hold on it as if she was afraid that it would tumble free at the slightest bump or jostle. She had not known it was possible to feel so protective over something so small, something that could have been an inanimate object if she did not know what would come from such a precious shell.

"It's yours," she said finally, extending the pause for longer than she had intended, although Fyr wasn't so sure what her endgame was in the moment at all anymore. "And you need to look after it. So send your latest squeeze packing, would you?"

Ah, it was the throwaway words that sealed her fate ultimately as Sasha's expression switched back from softly giddy to flaring with anger, flame sparking up at the back of her maw as she roared. The dragoness tipped forward with her paws bunched up into fists and her tail lashing, striking the wall so viciously that it broke through the paint and plaster to leave a gaping, dirtied hole. Fyr gawped and took a step back, caught on the back foot for once, but Sasha was right there following, driving her back and back and back.

The doorknob ground into Fyr's side and the dragoness cursed without thinking, hunching over the egg to protect is as her mother's hot breath washed over her cheek and neck, the dragoness far, far too close for comfort. She strove to shrink away but the older dragoness followed her, blocking off her escape into the more open section of the room as she desperately avoided looking her mother in the eyes.

Maybe if she didn't look, she could pretend it wasn't happening. Maybe she'd wake up in bed with Ropes and realise that it was all a bad dream, even though parts of it surely had been delectably lustful, cherished for the sake of arousal and raw, needy kink.

Yet it was neither nightmare nor dream and not something one could wake up from so easily, the hard wood of the door grinding into her shoulder as she still strove to press away to no avail. Sasha trailed her fingers along Fyr's jaw-line, clucking her tongue mockingly against the roof of her mouth as if she was pretending, in appearances only, to offer her daughter some semblance of sympathy.

"Do as I tell you," she whispered, her voice a low, sinuous hiss curling through the scant space between them. "Or else I'll make you sorry for it."

Fyr stiffened, heart in her throat. Her mother meant it - she could tell. She'd heard similar as a hatchling with her mother, although she could not quite recall it instilling such an abject sense of fear in her heart. Her chest seemed to tighten and she dragged in breath after laborious breath with great difficulty, every scale on her body prickling with a sickly heat.

And, to her shame, she turned on her heel and fled, a deeper kind of instinct kicking in as she scrambled for the door and gasped in the comparatively fresh air of the upstairs hallway. Sasha's attention slipped from her daughter as her crimson tail whipped around the door and the zebra's mumbled excuses were not to be heard as Sasha clearly bore him lustfully back to the bed, springs complaining as Fyr raced down the stairs as if the hounds of hell were nipping at her heels, fire foaming from their slathering jaws.

The egg... She had to protect the egg...

Sasha was no true threat but there was neither sense nor time to tell that to the more primal part of her psyche that had taken hold, driving her on and on. Her mind did not understand that her mother was merely trying to get her out and gone so that she could enjoy herself without any sense of shame - that was knowledge that would only make sense later on, once she'd calmed down - but her mind knew that she had to protect the egg at all costs.

And she knew one place that was safe.

Diving into her truck, she panicked behind the wheel. Keys, keys - where were the keys? Floundering with a whine that sounded a deal more helpless than she would have liked, she had to dash back into the house, ignorant to the fact that she was not wearing any shoes, snatch the keys up from the counter, and race back outside. Ropes may have called to her or not but she ignored all to her back as she flung herself into the truck, checked that the egg was right where it should be, and slammed the beast into drive.

Peeling out of the short driveway with an obnoxious squeal of tires, the dragoness cursed and swore to no one as she hurled insults out the windows at no one at all. Passing motorists cast her confused looks as the wind carried her words to their ears, though it was all in pieces, shards of a life cast out much as she had been.

But that was not true, not really. She had a home to go back to, when she needed to return, and soon the ranch would be ready too and they could all move in. The workers seemed to have been doing double-time and going above and beyond for her, a fact that even in the midst of her distress she was incredibly grateful for. It made her job of decoration - the barn had been finished at least to her basic satisfaction - inside the main house all the easier while the finishing touches were put on the plumbing and electrics. Most of that decorating, however, followed the course of the working furs around the house, beginning on each room as they completed it. After all, there was no point in painting when they needed to get under the floorboards to finish the electrics.

Yes, the painting... She locked onto the thought, one eye on the road and the other on the egg, jostled lightly in the passenger seat. She needed a colour for his or her room soon, though there was no way to tell what the hatchling would be until they were born. Sasha, of course, had refused to visit a doctor again, not even one more experienced with furs who may or may not have been outside the normal realm of what general practice doctors were used to dealing with. That may have shown whether the hatchling within was male or female but it seemed that, as with much in their family, they were destined to linger in indecision and confusion for weeks or months until the egg itself hatched.

Fyr frowned, thoughts turned from the painting, such a simple escape that was, sadly, not to be hers. How long would it take for Sasha's egg to hatch? Again, a visit to a more experienced practitioner would show them either way but her mother simply was not willing to go through with that, shunning normal company and society in favour of Ropes and the endless stream of lovers that she seemed to have passing through.

No... No escape from the thoughts but Fyr could take her physical body away from her home, if only for a short time. The dragoness inched her hind paw down on the gas pedal and shot towards the ranch, her growing sanctuary that was very nearly the place that she would spend the rest of her home life. She'd even managed to secure extra land from a rancher who was selling off his herd and retiring to a cottage instead, somewhere where, the old dog had said, that he could sit and fish the rest of his days away.

The ranch was the only place she could go.

She could almost drive there on autopilot, although the drive still wearied her and she groaned as she pulled up, a little calmer even if she was a side stiffer. Working her neck from side to side, she tried to ease out the kinks to no avail and arched her back, stretching her arms above her head as she slithered from the driver's side.

The egg she collected into both paws, gently holding it against the warmth of the body as she hip-checked the truck door closed and followed the path that her feet led her on. She knew her little routes and paths through the barn like the back of her paw and she even had all the alfalfa and straw she needed in ready for her plan and her dream to be put into place.

She'd just never thought that her dream would come with her mother, a hatchling that was not hers and a cougar husband who was absent with others more than he was present with her. Drawing in a shuddering breath, Fyr ignored the ache in her throat, the telltale prickle in the corners of her eyes.

"Not now..."

But it was hard - no one could have said it was anything else. She had to watch her husband with her mother and, good heavens, the mix of emotions... Conflict raged when she tossed and turned in her sleep, intent to source herself a far more comfortable room once they moved into the ranch house, for Fyr had found every last lump and bump in the sofa during the course of her many, many restless nights spent there. The lack of good quality sleep was one thing, however, in comparison to the daily work that dragged her down, demands placed on her cubicle desk as she pushed through and through, management cutting down on office staff while they enjoyed bonuses and raises.

Fyr, of course, had had no salary bump that year, even if she had not really expected one. They cited all the usual reasons but the money, or lack of it, was one reason she was heading off on her own. While she was good with her paws and fixing up the ranch, just why should she have to spend her days working for furs who didn't give a darn whether she was well in her mind and body or not? No, if she was sick, she'd much rather spend it tending the orchard or perhaps watching over a small herd of cows than stuck in an office chair.

The fresh air had always been better for her anyway.

And Ropes... Her heart throbbed for the touch of her husband. Although it had not been all that long since the egg had been laid, she felt the absence of his presence keenly as he had not been around her since the egg had come into their lives, spending more time with Sasha and even more time still in the shed at the bottom of the garden. Fyr had wondered bitterly more than once whether he was in there with other furs but, for once, he seemed to have lost more than a little interest in the challenge he and Sasha were engaging in, secluding himself away for some other purpose.

The dragoness frowned and ran her fingers over the egg, the smooth curve of the shell soothing to touch. It was funny how it had become, literally, the rock in her life in the days and weeks since, although it had not been all that much time - it just felt like it. It was difficult to remember a time when she had not been watching over the egg, although that itself had been yet another point of contention between her and her mother. Ropes, of course, had not paid much attention to the egg. Fyr pursed her lips. She'd always imagined him as a devoted father and now... Well, the deck seemed to be stacked against him, in that regard.

She sighed and rubbed the back of her paw over her eyes. Why was nothing ever easy? She could have had a nice life with a nice cougar - who, perhaps, wasn't a demon - and everything could have simply been nice.

It may not have been as hot but it would have been nice.

The dragoness had left herself a bench facing the stables in the barn, intending to perch and clean tack there, one day, when she had the little one's pony nicely stabled and eating away. The cows would only have to come into the other section of barn, the open shed, during the worst weather, but the stables were warm and cosy even with a gusty wind blowing outside and rattling the shutters. Seating herself on the edge of the sun-warmed bench - it had a skylight placed just so too - she licked her lips and tried to slow her racing, pounding thoughts.

Could she do it? Could she love her husband and her mother as a cuckold wife was supposed to do? Fyr trembled, shifting her legs apart just a little so that the egg could rest in the dip of her thighs, protectively covered by the blanket. There was so much going on in her life, their lives, so many changes...

Gritting her teeth, Fyr tightened her fingers around the egg, gripping it as if it was going to roll away. How could she be expected to keep up with everything? There was too much, far too much, for just one dragoness to take on all by herself. And the other two weren't much help either! They flaunted their sexuality and strutted their stuff - did Sasha even _plan_on working, whether on the ranch or somewhere else? Sure, there'd probably be enough money to support her on the ranch, once they moved, but that didn't mean that they hadn't had to tighten their belts while the majority of their funds had been poured into getting the foundations of the ranch in place!

The urge to slam her fist into the wall grew and grew, only a desire that she was able to thrust down because she was still holding the egg, her little precious cargo to be protected and cherished. Lost in thoughts that she'd rather not run through, she tipped forward over it, absent-mindedly pressing her palm to the smooth shell.

"Don't worry... I'll keep you safe."

It was a promise and one that she knew how to keep even if she did not yet understand how she could keep her mind safe from everything going on in her life. But so wrapped up was she in her own, private thoughts that the dragoness did not even hear the light tread of paws making their way down the centre aisle of the barn.

"Ma'am?"

She jumped and snarled, wings flaring as she hunkered over the egg with the eyes of a demon, teeth showing in a gleam of saliva.

No! No one would get the egg off her! No one! Hers! Her egg!

But it was only Scott and the stoat took a step back, wide-eyed, as he, very slowly, put down the saw he'd been carrying and held up his paws as if he was being placed under arrest.

"Easy, ma'am..." He swallowed hard. "I'm... I'm mighty sorry for intruding, ma'am, I didn't think there was anyone else up here and when I heard noises..."

He trailed off, fumbling for his words as much as Fyr seemed to do most of the time, chest rising and falling sharply as his adrenaline rose. Somehow, the dragoness came back to herself and sat up straighter, working her jaw to rid it of the tension caused by such a vicious snarl.

And she groaned, the fight slipping from her. She couldn't protect an egg that wasn't even hers, what was she thinking? And why did she think that Scott or anyone else was a threat to such a little egg, something so common and inconsequential that there were no natural predators for dragon eggs anymore, not unless someone was exercising particular malicious intent - and that would be incredibly rare. Cases of egg smashing were from years on years back, before her lifetime, and yet the instinct to cover the egg with her body, to shield it from predators at all costs, still resided deep in her heart.

But it wasn't her egg and she should never have been the one with such strong maternal, protective instincts to protect it. Yet the task fell to her and Fyr's shoulders shook under the burden.

Scott's paw curled around her shoulder and she flinched from it, lips picking up in a snarl. Just who did he think he was to touch her? The stoat didn't know her, no matter how kind his words could be.

"Ma'am, are you alright here?"

Fyr wavered. It would be so easy to cave, to give in, to tell him everything. And didn't he know most of the story already?

"I..."

And, just like that, she broke, crumpling into a heap as sob after sob wracked her body, big, fat tears rolling down her cheeks as if she had suddenly and completely regressed to being a mere hatchling. Abruptly, she was taken back to a time where she'd fallen in the street and grazed her knee, back in the time when it was safe for youngsters to play out in the streets. Her father had been there for her then, his strong arms wrapping around her to lift her up and away from harm, although there was no more that he could do for her from his position now.

Fyr tried to sigh but another sob dragged it from her body, eyes aching as tears streamed down her cheeks and she hung her head. Somehow, she'd ended up on her knees and the egg was cradled between them, cuddled into its nest of blankets as she leaned over it, tears splattering the concrete.

"I... I...don't..." She blubbered, loathing herself for her moment of weakness. "So sorry... You...should go..."

But Scott wrapped an arm around her shoulders and lifted her up, returning the dragoness to her little bench with a strength that surprised even her. The stoat certainly didn't look like he could handle her as easily as she took care of the egg - the egg! She grabbed for it but the stoat was already there, pressing it into her arms as she hugged it to her chest, shoulders juddering as she strove and failed to control her own breath.

And the stoat's surprisingly strong arm was there around her, drawing her against his side as he perched awkwardly on the bench beside her, half his thigh hanging off over the edge.

"There, there, ma'am... Fyr..." He mumbled, seeming stiff and uncomfortable with a sobbing femfur pressed up against him. "It's gonna be alright now, you'll see. It'll all come right, it always does."

The dragoness laughed brokenly and shook her head, although there was not a single shred of humour left in the sound.

"Oh, so you say..." She waved a paw dismissively, ignorant to the flash of frustration that, oh so very briefly, crossed his muzzle. "But have you been in my position? Have you had to go through what I've gone through?"

Scott sighed and shook his head.

"I doubt that, ma'am, but things always do come right in the end."

"I wish I could be that positive about it all."

The stoat pressed his lips together, appearing lost in thought for a moment as Fyr realised just how heavily she was leaning into his side and sat up straighter, suddenly self-conscious. Just what did she think she was doing, pretty much letting herself hang all over the stoat like a blanket? It was probably not the best analogy she could come up with in the moment but the dragoness was hardly thinking straight, shuffling anxiously as she adjusted her clothes and tried to smooth down the creases that had appeared without risking the jostling of the egg.

Quiet stretched between them, something that could be comfortable between good friends but was distinctly uncomfortable between strangers - one of which knew far too much about the other. And Fyr? She knew nothing of the stoat at all and yet something about him... She couldn't help herself, opening and closing her mouth several times while she sought for words, anything to fill the gap and silence the pounding of her heart from her eardrums.

"So..." She broke the silence awkwardly, grasping at words that flitted from her grip. "You know my mother is a demoness, right?"

Well, that wasn't going to tell her anything about Scott but it was as good as anything to get the stupid chirping of crickets out of the air, a crow flapping obnoxiously about in the rafters. Had the barn always been so eerie in the minute sounds that took over? Or was it simply the mere presence of her and Scott, the two of them together, that caused rise to so much unrest.

The stoat nodded, eyes curiously shining as if he was actually genuinely interested and invested in what she was saying. Fyr's heart warmed, heat blossoming softly through her chest. It was nice to be paid attention to. It was something that she hardly got at all these days.

"Well..." How much could she say? "There's rather a lot going on with that at the moment..."

Scott nodded.

"I see, ma'am."

Fyr flushed.

"I mean, I know there's often things going on with families - it's the way of it, isn't it? There's always fuss and drama and some kind of thing where so-and-so isn't talking to the second cousin twice removed, right? Right?"

"Right..."

"But this drama..." She couldn't stop herself, growling as she leaned forward, both paws cradling the egg. "It's gone off the walls! And I'm living and breathing and thriving in it!"

Scott raised both eyebrows, sitting back against the wall as he folded his hands behind his head.

"Miss Fyr, if you don't mind me sayin'," he said slowly. "It's hard to say that y'all are thriving when you are a mite broken down crying here."

Fyr sighed and shook her head; that she could not deny.

"Just... With my mother being a demoness, things are changing. I'm struggling to keep up with that."

She had not known the words were true before but, as she spoke, something of a greater understanding settled over her and the dragoness ploughed on boldly, eagerly seeking the clarity that she'd craved since, well... Since she'd first watched her mother and Ropes fucking, boldly enjoying one another right in front of her as if she didn't matter at all. And it had only gone further and further from there, the situation escalating beyond her control as her husband became more Sasha's than he'd ever been hers.

"It's hard," she repeated, eyes watering even as she drove on and on, shoulders juddering. "And I just remember her as the motherly dragoness she always was. She wasn't always a demon, you see - that's new."

She forgot that Scott has seen her mother about the barn before her changes had begun but the stoat kindly allowed her to continue on as the words tumbled over one another as if in a bid to be free of her lips.

"So, there's that to deal with. Her new personality... Well, it's not bad, but it's not what I'm used to. I'm doing a lot for her around the house, even looking after the egg, and I don't know why but she's just not interested in it!"

Growling, Fyr dug her claws into her thighs, wishing to smack her fist into the opposite palm - or anything solid really - but not wanting to risk her precious cargo either at the same time. Her body thrummed with rigid tension and the dragoness suppressed the flicker of flame at the back of her maw, something that really only happened when she was on the very, very edge of losing control.

Keep cool...

_ _

It was easier said than done though.

"It's her egg!" She exploded, a snarl curling her lips viciously back from her teeth. "So why am I the only fucking one around here that seems to take a single bit of interest in it? It's going to be a hatchling soon and then who's going to be the one to take care of him or her - me! Of course, it's me! It's always me!"

Shaking her head, she swallowed hard and tried to regain control but her heart was pounding too heart for any semblance of calm, palms sweating as she shifted constantly on the wooden bench that suddenly seemed far, far too hard and unyielding under her scaled buttocks. Maybe she should add a cushion to it... But that moment was not the time for such frivolous tasks when her whole little world was crumbling around her, foundations rocked and new ones rising around her.

Although her new world was different and, as much as she leaned into it, the eroticism of her confident servitude, there were still some old attitudes that she simply could not let go of. No, it would take a grand event indeed for the dragoness to truly let go of what she 'thought' she should be doing, from wondering what everyone else in society at large would think of her if they found out what her family and living arrangements were, just what she allowed her husband to do to her very own mother.

For the thoughts raged even then as her chest grew tight and unyielding, breath ragged - what she could drag into her sore and abused lungs, at least. The tears had not left her system and she gave a long, shuddering sob as she pressed her trembling fingers to her lips. She knew what everyone would think of her, if they knew, and it was the weight of it that crushed her lust, the judgement and scorn bouncing off the inside of her skull.

Did it matter how much she liked it if everyone would hate her for it? All she would change was to acquire a little bit of help but the cougar and the dragon had been doing so much better at that before the egg was laid and there was no reason to suspect things would not return to that normal again, no reason at all. Yet she wanted to be the good dragoness that everyone wanted her to be too - and that meant the wider world and their opinions came into play, disturbing the sanctity of her own mind.

She knew what Sasha's studs and Ropes' little bitches said about her too. They'd laughed at her, mocked her and humiliated her; they must have known she was listening. They called her a slut and a little servant, so many demeaning terms that one blurred into the other even though Ropes and Sasha hardly seemed to pay any attention to them, intent on their conquests. Fyr wasn't part of the equation for them, not when they were in their little sex competition, but the dragoness still heard and the words still hurt, digging deep like claws and splinters that would have to be cut out, the process of such causing still more harm than good. And, each and every one with a snide word took a little bit more of her heart, ripping her apart from the inside out as she slowly became less than the dragoness she once was.

No. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath that was nowhere near as smooth as she wanted it to be. They weren't Ropes and Sasha. They didn't care for her but they didn't know her either. Did it matter?

Of course, it mattered. That was why her heart ached so much. It had just taken storming out of her own house and breaking down in the barn that almost felt more like home than the old four walls of the house she'd lived in for the last few years to see it. Only, she wasn't quite there yet either.

"It's hard," she said, the world spinning around and around her head as if it was the only four letter word that could possibly hold a candle to how she was feeling. "I thought it was all fun but things aren't fun when..." No, she couldn't say that. "I mean, just a little more help... I need to talk to them, both Ropes and Sasha, but if they don't have others around, they're always just interested in each other. I wouldn't be surprised if mom wasn't demanding he fuck her right now..."

"What?" The stoat blinked rapidly, his lower jaw falling, comically, slack. "The egg... Sasha and your husband..."

Fyr flinched and lifted her shoulder as if to block Scott from her body.

"Yes, I know..." She pressed her lips together. "That's probably the worst thing I've said, isn't it? Maybe I've said too much..."

"No, ma'am, I think you've said just the right amount."

The stoat sat up straighter and Fyr looked at him for the first time since she'd delved into her innermost thoughts, picking up the stray ones to try to make sense of her world. And yet perhaps the crux of the matter was that her world wasn't supposed to make sense, just that they were all meant to deal with the problems, like a family and those in love, together when they did actually rear their ugly heads, the serpents in the grass.

"Fyr, you shouldn't have to be putting up with something like that!" He burst out, leaping to his hind paws as if simply couldn't contain his anger in a seated position for even a moment longer. "It's unfair - unfair to you! And I may not know everything about y'all, but I know some! And that's enough!"

"Scott, I'm sorry, I didn't mean -"

But the stoat was on a roll and would not be stopped.

"No!" He insisted, paws held out as if to stop someone in their tracks. "They need talkin' to! They can't do this!"

"No!"

Fyr snapped her jaws and stood to face him, shoulders set and the egg left back on the bench, for she needed to make her point before the stoat raced off to give her demon husband what for, from the anger flaring in his eyes. She could only imagine just how well that would go down.

"It's okay... Kind of. I know that doesn't make much sense but it's something that's usually a good thing and makes all three of us happy." Fyr swallowed hard, forcing back the threat of tears. "I just haven't been very happy recently. And, you're right, we do need to talk but not quite about what you mean."

The stoat's tail swung and the barn suddenly seemed even quieter than normal, although there was no peace in the air to be had. Tipping his chin up defiantly, Scott met her eyes boldly with his own strikingly blue ones, momentarily taking her breath away in that fluttering manner that neither had she felt in years.

And she liked it. She liked it rather a lot, in fact.

"Then maybe you need something good too, ma'am," he said slowly, seeming to draw back even as he stood perfectly in place. "That kinda thing ain't worth the tears on a muzzle as beautiful as yours is."

She blushed and looked down but, when she looked up again, the stoat had closed the distance between them, her paws suddenly clasped in his and fur brushing smoothly over her scales. His paws were warm, oh so very warm, as they closed around hers, fingers brushing the back of her paws with surprising tenderness.

It had been a very long time since she'd felt something like that. A very long time indeed.

It was intoxicating.

Fyr's heart pounded, driving through her chest as if threatening to leap out into fresh life.

"Scott?"

The stoat blinked at her, a small smile on his lips.

"Yes?"

And, for once, she didn't think. All she did was feel.

Leaning in quickly, her lips met his, fur tickling her scales as she found a muzzle that was a different shape entirely to her husband's. Whiskers brushed her muzzle and she moaned against his lips without thinking either, opening his shocked lips with hers.

And then the kiss deepened.