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This is a short work of erotic fiction containing furry, or anthropomorphic, characters, which are animals that either demonstrate human intelligence or walk on two legs, for the purposes of these tales. It is a thriving and growing fandom in which creators are prevalent in art and writing especially.
Cuckolded by Her Mother
Submission. It was such a sweet state of mind that it was no wonder that, truly, Fyr would ever want to come out of the softly floating head-space that it brought her each and every time. Her lust craved it like chasing a high and yet it was something so freely provided, unlike her orgasms, that she followed her mother and her husband like a lost puppy, eager to please them as she rushed to complete any and all tasks they had for her. And, if they didn’t want her around at that moment in time, she would find something pleasing for them in the background, some chores that needed doing and would, ultimately, make their lives easier. It was a pleasant side effect that everything she did seemed to make her life easier too, though there was always one, little, niggling, horrible thing lurking in the background that sullied her days with a streak of darkness.
Scott. The stoat. Oh, how he complicated her life. The work on the ranch – at least what she was paying for – was coming to an end and her heart tugged in a strange way to see all the walls in the right places, the deck coming to life outside as it was raised up from the ground in case of flood. She’d thought everything through very carefully and, although it had been her dream to own such a ranch since she’d been a young dragoness, something about it felt as hollow as the rooms that she was yet to put her stamp on.
For, when the ranch was complete, Scott would be gone. And Fyr wasn’t all that sure that she wanted the stoat who made her heart leap and judder in such strange ways to go all that soon.
Of course, it wasn’t as if she’d spoken to him since the kiss, the day that she’d very nearly been caught lip-locked by her very own mother. It had been, simply, far too awkward to even consider. Elbow deep in dishes and warm, soapy water, Fyr shuddered and committed herself to the task at hand, although the stoat crept into her thoughts, that smile and that little twitch of his ears that she had not realised was so appealing until that very moment in time.
He was something special, she could surely admit that. But he wasn’t her kind of something special, oh no. Tongue poking out the corner of her lips, she growled and scrubbed furiously at a stubborn bit of hard, dried-on meat, the rest of the plate glistening bar that one, vile spot. No, she liked Ropes and she liked his raw, lustful demon side – even it meant that, well, a lot of the time, he’d have to go and sate that lust elsewhere as she simply couldn’t keep up with him. He’d made her heart pound like that before. And now he made her heart pound in a very different way, though it was still an exceptionally good way.
Yet… Oh, what would it be like to be wrapped up in warm and tender arms, to rest her head on a shoulder and let the day slip by? Fyr shivered, drifting away into her own thoughts as she pulled her wings in closer to her back, a secret that was hers and hers alone held close, treasured. His fur had been so soft too, the light brush of his whiskers reminiscent of Ropes’ kisses, though the stoat’s whiskers were, of course, shorter than the cougar’s. One could not change what their species naturally boasted – not that she was claiming. For that moment, she’d take all the short-bristled kisses she could get and so much more too.
But she couldn’t. She was with Ropes. Well, Ropes and Sasha, technically. Either way, she was hardly a free dragoness and, as she kept telling herself, perfectly happy with her situation. Perfectly happy. Very happy. Yes. Water sloshed over the edge of the sink, splattering down the cupboard beneath and dripping to the linoleum floor. That floor was curling at the corner of the room too and, although she could not see it as she forced her way brutally through the pile of dishes, she knew it was there and it irked her.
Fyr snarled. Enough! She could think of him no more when there was work to do, so much work to do! Furious with nothing in particular, she fought with dish after dish, piling them beside the drink until everything was shiny and clean, glinting in the ray of sunlight slanting through the kitchen window. And even that sunlight seemed to taunt her with how purely happy it was, light despite everything. The sunshine didn’t know what turmoil was roiling in her heart and her gut, her mind battling with her heart as the minutes ticked by, one by one. The day and the world would continue on as if she had no significance at all, her situation nothing at all in the grand scheme of things, yet her havoc was at the very centre of her own world. And who could blame her?
Fyr slammed her fist down, the last glass jumping at the edge of the batman escort sink, only to topple into the water with a solemn plop. Chest rising and falling rapidly, Fyr gripped the counter, claws clicking as they tried to bite into the surface and found it impenetrable. Slowly, with great focus and care, she scooped the final glass out of the bottom of the sink, scales tingling from the heat of the water, and cleaned it meticulously, turning it in her paws. She’d never before focused so much on the gleam of a single glass but, when she finally put it too on the draining board to be dried, she was a little more at peace than she had been when she’d begun.
Just a little. Not enough.
Left with a spotless kitchen and nothing else left to do, Fyr sighed heavily. The house was clean, tidy and perfectly poised for Ropes and Sasha’s return home, whenever they returned home after their exceedingly long lunch date. Could she even call it a date when they acted as if they were as good as married?
It didn’t matter. Either way, the work at home was done and there was only one place left for her to go.
Fyr signed, running her fingers around to the back of her neck, although no amount of massaging the soreness would serve to ease it away.
She’d have to go to the ranch.
Thankfully, the workers had left for the day, the heat of a Saturday afternoon as summer licked at the doorstep sending them away while they prepared to put the finishing touches on their part of the job. Fyr wasn’t entirely sure what was left to do but she had paid the full balance and, even if it all looked right to her eyes, she was more than happy for them to keep going until it was completely and utterly up to their standards. After all, that was just what she’d paid them for, was it not?
It meant too that she wouldn’t have the problem of Scott to deal with anymore and, as much as part of her yearned for him to stay, the dragoness knew in her heart that it was for the best. He was a distraction at best and her undoing at worst and she had to protect the life she’d come into with everything she had in her, even if it meant that she wouldn’t get to see his smile again.
“I see my own smile every day in the mirror,” Fyr declared to the empty ranch house, stomping a foot for emphasis. “So what do I need the smile of a scraggly stoat for?”
The ranch house had no answer for her as she popped her paws on her hips, tail swinging.
“Well?” She demanded, a muscle jumping at the corner of her jaw. “What have you got to say for yourself? You were meant to be this good thing, this great thing, and look at all the unrest you’ve brought – right into my heart too!”
The house could not have been personally responsible for the trouble in her life but Fyr raged at it regardless, throwing her paws up as she stormed up the bare stairs, wooden boards open and snarled at the walls. Once, when walking around, she’d imagined just where she’d hang pictures, photographs and paintings that she’d cherished over the years, but now all she saw was one who threatened to disrupt every last part of it.
And did she even want it to be disrupted? The traitorous thought curled into the back of her mind, a sinuous lie that she refused to acknowledge.
She snarled, lips pulling back from her teeth as if she was about to go in for the kill, fists balled up and nostrils flaring in short, sharp breaths. No single one was enough and she paced back and forth like a caged animal, tail lashing and swearing at the walls. It wasn’t as if there was anyone there to hear her anyway and she’d do well enough to let her anger and frustration out somewhere…well…
Somewhere safe. Fyr closed her jaw with a snap and stormed from room to room, glaring at each one as if it had personally affronted her. Just what had happened for her life to turn upside down so swiftly? Why had she ever had to have that stupid fantasy, that dream that had started everything? Sure, things had been good since and she’d never honestly before been so sexually fulfilled and unfulfilled at the same time but it was all so confusing! It wasn’t the way a relationship – any relationship – was meant to be and yet it still felt oh so very right when she was beneath her superiors, watching them fuck as they gave each other the pleasure she could never truly match up to.
Ropes had cheated. She knew that. That didn’t make it right for her though and it didn’t mean she could go after Scott, regardless of what the cougar had done before he’d entered into his strange relationship with Sasha or even what he’d done with all the others since them – without even asking her permission. And why was that? Fyr knew the answer with a sinking feeling of despair and lust in equal measures, a conflicting stir in the pit of her belly.
He didn’t need to ask her permission. He owned Fyr, heart and soul, and she’d do everything and anything for him at the drop of a hat. So, it didn’t truly matter if he caused her heart just bayburt escort a little bit of pain or a lot of pain – or no pain at all, for that matter. Because she’d be there, right by his side, no matter what.
Forever. And that made Sasha part of the deal too.
Fyr hissed through her teeth, head snaking from one side to the other as if she had suddenly become a serpent seeking out its prey. Why did she have to like it so much? It made everything so much more difficult. Well, not that it would be easy to divorce her husband, if she had been more traditional in her mind and inclinations, but the answer would have been there. He cheats – leave him. Job done, right? But, even as her stomach roiled with distaste, she could not help but think of the taste of his shaft, that familiar hunger stirring in the pit of her belly.
Leaning back against the wall, Fyr groaned and rolled her head from one shoulder to the other, breath not slowing to any semblance of its normal rate. In more ways than one, she was lost and the dragoness grunted, mind running amok with image after image of Sasha and Ropes, the demon pair who had truly taken over every last inch of her life. Them kissing, tongues entwined. The cougar on his back while Sasha howled and rose and fell on his cock like it was the last she would ever have. Walls breaking as they slammed into it, not deterred in the slightest from their lust. Things that would break Fyr were nothing to them, the demons able to continue having sex indefinitely if they so pleased. For they did not truly need to feed on food or water, even if the desire to do so would eventually be aroused, but the sexual energies of those that they enjoyed.
The dragoness’ teeth dug into her lip, pressing down and down until a spot of blood emerged, the tiniest shock back to a reality that could have been a dream. Maybe she just needed to accept their hold on her. Maybe then everything would fall into place. Maybe she would then find peace.
The questions held no answers and the house had not a single one for her either, regarding her with a cool, clinical glare of plaster when she finally opened her eyes, that tight burning still remaining in her crotch. Even if she was alone, she did not dare please herself for fear that they would know. Although perhaps the dragoness was starting to rather enjoy the cruel ‘punishments’ forced on her, her tail hole still sore from the last that Sasha had so very sweetly treated her to.
Out. She had to get out. What could she do in the house? Nothing, nothing at all – that was what. Chest heaving, Fyr shook her head. She could shout at it all she liked but there was nothing to start with unless she wanted to start painting the walls. The base coat of plaster was already on, leaving it a shell for her to put her mark on. It would need a primer first though and she wasn’t all that sure she could be trusted with the nature of hard work that particular afternoon.
She’d have to try though.
The stairs rang hollow beneath her booted hind paws but Fyr tried not to pay them any mind. Would she carpet them or paint the boards? They were bare and raw and not much to look at so it would seem that carpet or at least another board, something finer for the ranch, would have to do. The thoughts of what she could do comforted her somewhat for, although it had become something more than she ever could have dreamed, the ranch was still her dream and her safe place. It was where she could bring everything to life just as she’d dreamed.
Fyr snorted and rolled her eyes, a little smirk pulling at the corner of her lips. No, Ropes and Sasha didn’t have any inclination or even a clue towards home design or repair so that was entirely her forte, something that she was, admittedly, secretly proud of. It was good to simply be good at something and that was, sometimes, all she needed to feel rooted and grounded again, safe in the sanctity of her own mind.
The dragoness took a deep breath, facing the front door. She could do it. Paw on the door, she swung it open quickly, already striding over the threshold with her mind buzzing with all the things she had to do. Yes, the upstairs had been confirmed as finished so, yes, she did have to get the primer and put a base coat down – it wouldn’t take her that long if she was quick about…
She drew up short, breath catching in her throat and thoughts dying in mid-flow. The insects chirped, a constant buzz in the background that was entirely not the soundtrack she needed right at that moment in time. The fur waiting at the bottom of the steps up to the front door turned, brown fur catching the sunlight in a haze of gold around the edges.
The stoat blinked at her, head turned away. His muzzle, usually bright in an easy smile, was stern and forlorn and he refused to meet her eyes, a hard line to his soft mouth.
“Good afternoon, ma’am,” he said solemnly, drawing himself up as tall as he could. “I think we may need to talk.”
Fyr’s heart turned bebek escort over. This wasn’t happening. It was a nightmare. Please, let her wake up! But she could not blink enough times to draw her back to intricate reality for she was already there, forced into having the conversation that she’d dreaded having and avoided like the plague for two weeks – to the day, in fact – already.
Twisting her hands together as the stoat looked anywhere but directly at her, Fyr took a breath, though it did nothing at all to stop the roaring in her ears or the tightness in her chest. Had she been holding her breath? Even in hindsight, it was impossible to tell.
She had to try. Her eyes dropped. He looked real good in that shirt, not the usual kind he wore for work. The dragoness growled at herself, paw clenching as her claws bit into the palm of her paw. And she had to not look at him in that way!
“Scott, if this is about what happened the other day…”
But the stoat wasn’t about to let her get a word in edgeways, brow furrowing as he shook his head, stalling her.
“If y’all forgive me, ma’am, it’s something I need to say first.”
“Scott, please,” she said with a grimace that rang true with every ounce of feeling in her body. “I really never want to talk about this ever again. It was stupid, a mistake. It happened. We’re not really to blame for a little moment of weakness like that. It was a lapse and nothing more than that.”
Scott raised an eyebrow.
“And who are you trying to convince of that, Fyr? You…or me?”
Fyr turned away, lips pressed together.
“I think that says…a lot. It means a lot, ma’am.”
Fyr winced and shook her head, holding up both paws.
“Scott, please, don’t talk like that. We’ve spoken intimately… I can’t stand you being so formal.”
The stoat rolled his eyes and she near enough took a step back in shock. Had he really just done that? It was hardly the image of the stoat she’d rather enjoyed spending time with, as much as she had later avoided him.
“Y’all are all the same, you know, ma’am,” he grunted, eyes suddenly hard with an edge of the defensive behind them. “You think you can do something with me and then, that’s it, it can all be okay for you – always for you!”
He lost some of his accent as the anger came out and Fyr gulped, eyes watering. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this at all – not in the slightest! Why was he so angry with her? It wasn’t as if he had a family that he had cheated on by kissing her! He’d told her that it was just him looking after his parents! Fyr hissed, snaking her head back. Had he lied to her? Was everyone only interested in lying to her?
“I have no idea what you are talking about,” she growled, her tone as cold as ice, a sliver sliding into a frosted class in contrast to a hot summers day. “But I suggest you explain – right now!”
Her look was not one to be reckoned with and something in the stoat seemed to deflate as the anger left him all in a rush, the insides of his ears a darker shade as he shuffled his arms from one position to another. Across his chest, down by his sides, cupping a bicep – he could not make up his mind.
“Erm… Ma’am… Fyr,” he started, fumbling for the right words, or so she assumed. “There have been some, um, femfurs who have tried to take liberties with my chattiness in the past.”
Fyr stilled, blinking several times. Time seemed to drag around her as if she was pushing through molasses, although the dragoness was not moving at all, rooted in place. The stoat opened and closed his mouth several times but seemingly gave up on the hope of speech, eventually turning away with an awkward little grunt and whine that would have been adorable in any other situation at all.
Pinching the space between her eyes, Fyr took a long, deep breath, filling her lungs slowly. Counting the seconds, she forced herself to hold it before exhaling, heat flooding her body. Everyone said to do that, didn’t they? To take a deep breath? Well, she could say first hand that it did absolutely nothing at all to quell the rising anger in her stomach.
“And you think I’m one of them?”
“No! No!” Scott paused, running his paw around to the back of his head. “Well… Yes. Yes, ma’am, Fyr.”
Groaning, Fyr rubbed her temples.
“Scott, it was a silly mistake and nothing more than that. It’s embarrassing enough that you saw me in such a state but, to be honest, that should tell you that I’m not some rich wife right here looking for a piece on the side. Things are real messed up right now and I broke. And I’m not going to apologise for that.”
Drawing herself up far taller than the stoat could have ever managed, she fixed him with a steely stare.
“And perhaps you’re the one who owes me an apology! You kissed me back most definitely! Are you saying that you didn’t make advances too?”
Once she had the stoat on the back foot, it was easy enough to keep him there, stuttering and stammering as he wrung his hands, eyes darting from her to something else, never lingering in one spot for very long. It didn’t feel very good to put him in such a position but, damn it, she wasn’t a stupid wife like he apparently thought her!
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