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This chapter is more character development and less plot. Hope you enjoy it. Leave comments and vote.
Chapter Fifty-One


When I awoke, my heart was pounding in my chest so hard that I could feel it in my throat. What had I been dreaming of? Nothing. That timeless void, that empty space in my memory that existed between my fall from the tower, and my rebirth in Jonias’s catacombs. A chill crawled through me, though I was sweating bullets. I curled into the bedding, and suppressed a horrible sob.

“Can’t sleep?” came a whisper from the darkness. In that moment, I wouldn’t have cared if the devil himself were in my room; just so long as I wasn’t alone.

“No.” I whispered back to Mother.

She illuminated a candle, and went about igniting the nearby oil lamp. “You used to get night terrors when you were younger,” she muttered, “I’d have to stay up with you until dawn. They started soon after your father died.”

“I don’t remember them.” I moaned, and tried to shift in the bed. I was still too weak, and any strength in me had been exhausted by my climb up the stairs. I eyed the chamber pot that sat just out of reach, and sighed. “Mom,” I whispered, “I need to pee.”

She raised her brows, then glanced at my predicament. “I see. And um… how does Lady Jonias go about… keeping your modesty?”

“She just tilts me to the side. I can do the rest.”

Mother opened the chamber pot, then moved behind me, took me by the shoulders, and pushed me to my side. I fished into my gown, grabbed my cock, and aimed it. With a push, I felt the sweet release in my loins, and I shuddered with satisfaction. I didn’t notice how deathly silent the room had become until after my stream sputtered out. That was when the realization came to me.

“Oh, shit.” I groaned, “Sorry, Mom, I shouldn’t have—”

“It’s fine,” she muttered, though her hand was shaking against me, “It’s well-past time that I accept the reality of what you’ve become—of who you are.

Of who I am.” I laughed bitterly, made myself modest, and rolled onto my back to look at her, “You should be pleased; you finally got the son you always wanted.”

She scowled, though I could tell by the angle of her brows that I’d hurt her. “I didn’t want a son, Elena,” she said softly, “I was just afraid of having a daughter. A son would be nothing like me at all, but a daughter...”

“Well, your fears were in vain then.”

“No, they weren’t.” Mother whispered. Her face was shadowed by her silvery blonde hair, but a flicker of orange light across her cheek showed that it was wet with tears. She turned around, and sat gingerly at the foot of my bed. “I thought a lot about what you said to me yesterday,” she said softly, her voice shaking, “I walked for miles, just thinking about it. Thinking about what I could’ve done differently, about the things I should’ve said, or the things I should never have spoken.” She laid her right hand over her left in such a way as their profiles were the same. “I used to look at you, and see me at the same age. It terrified me to see that, for I knew what you must’ve been going through.”

“You knew nothing about me.”

“I am your mother, Elena!” She hissed, whipping her head so that I saw the fierceness of her tear-speckled gaze. “You are of my blood and flesh.” She raised her pressed hands, “You and I walked the same paths, only twenty years apart. The lonesome childhood, the single-peered life, the unsure years of maturation, and the fear. I remember the fear. I tried to save you from it, but I failed.” Her hands moved together as she raised them. “The same path. Perhaps the scenery was different, but the turns were the same. I hid myself in a life of politics. You hid yourself in a life of soldiery. We were loners that hid in large packs, dedicating our lives to a distraction so that we wouldn’t have to face the truth!” She broke into a sob, then corralled it with a shuddering breath. “Then, our paths diverged.” She separated her hands, “I stayed the course my mother set me upon, and it became who I was.” She moved her right hand to the ceiling, and opened it as if letting something go, “But Yavara rescued you from that fate, and you became who you always were.” She turned her head away, concealing her face from me. “I’m so glad that you had Yavara to save you, Elena.”

“Mom?” I asked cautiously, “What are you talking about?”

She took a deep breath, then slowly let it out. “I never married after your father died. I was a woman fresh out of my teens, living in the prime of her youth, and I decided to stay a widow. People thought it was because I’d succumbed to grief, that no other man could ever take his place. In truth, I never took another man, because I no longer had to. His death was my liberation from having to feign the most intimate parts of myself. Like pretending I was interested in making love to a man.” She looked slowly up at me, “I’m so glad you had Yavara, Elena, but there was no Yavara to save me.”

She bore her shame plainly upon her face when she looked at me, then dropped her head, unable to hold my gaze. I opened my mouth, then closed it, unable to find the words for the moment. It was very easy to see me in her then. The perpetually-downcast face, fearing that someone might see the truth behind the mask if they looked too long; the hunched shoulders, bowed to bear the weight of the hanging head, and the mask that pulled it all downward; the hands folded demurely together, held tight so that they would not gesticulate, and communicate by accident, the truth behind the mask. Mother had always been so controlled, so calculated in every motion and movement. I’d always thought it was who she was; the political schemer, the thoroughbred aristocrat, but it was all a carefully-rehearsed and practiced lie. She was me--or rather, I was her. She is who I would’ve become had Yavara not forced me to take off the mask. Finally, I found the words that needed to be said.

I extended my hand, and flopped it lifelessly atop hers. “You’re twenty years past me on your path, Mom,” I whispered, “but you’re only a couple steps behind me on mine.”

She slowly raised her face, a question in her sapphire eyes.

I beamed to her. “Remember what you told me on the steps: one step at a time. Take it whenever you’re ready. I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

Her bottom lip quivered slightly. Her face turned pale, then flushed at the cheeks. Her eyes strained to stay fixed on me. She gulped, and reached to her neckline. She began unlacing her gown.

My heart leapt into my throat. “Um… Mom?” I asked very, very cautiously, “I didn’t… I didn’t mean you should take that step… now. I… um… holy shit. I meant I’d be with you as you… you know… found yourself with… other people.

Mother paused, her fingers trembling as they clutched the lacing of her bodice. She looked so confused, so terrified and so lost, and her big blue eyes were flitting frantically, searching for a way out.


Her panicked eyes fell on me. “I… I didn’t mean… I didn’t know what you meant… I’m just…”

“It’s OK, Mom.” I said with a comforting smile, “You’re just confused. You’re so used to wearing the mask, that you don’t know what to do without it on. Sleep on it, and it’ll start making sense in the morning.” I clumsily patted her hand, and winked, “I know you’d never… you know. Take one deep breath, then take another, and let them both out at once through your nose. It’s an old ranger trick. It’ll straighten you out.”

Mother nodded, then took successive breaths, and let them out through her nose. She closed her eyes as the air slid from her nostrils, and the tension seemed to ebb from her shoulders. When she next opened her eyes, they weren’t panicked and unsure, but steady, and peaceful.

“Better?” I asked.

She nodded, her straight silver-blonde hair curtaining her face. “Better.” Then she balled her hands into her gown, and tore it down the neckline. Her alabaster breasts jiggled free from the tear, each one pear-shaped and dotted with a small nipple, only the slight strain of age showing upon them. They shadowed her flat belly, the smooth flesh exposed with the lengthening tear until the triangle of her pelvis was exposed, then the blonde fur between her thick white legs. She let the dress slide from her curves, and pool around her buttocks, the cheeks full and plump, bulging exquisitely beneath the convergence of her slender back. She was gorgeous, a classic elven beauty of grace and curves, as voluptuous as I was, but soft and supple where I was hard with muscle. She kept her face downcast and concealed for a moment, then raised it to steadily meet my gaze. This time, I was the one shaking from head to toe.

“MOM?!” I squeaked.

“Every step of the way,” she whispered, leaning toward me, her breasts pressing between her arms.


Her brow furrowed. “I never was a good mother to you, Elena. You became who you are despite me, not because of me. I was absent in all the important moments, and neglectful when you needed maternal love. I kept my distance, and now I regret it more than anything. I won’t push you away any longer. I know I can’t be your mother anymore, but… I want to be close to you.”

There are other ways to be close to me!

She shook her head with a sad smile. “I’ve heard tales about the others like you; those that live in Alkandra. Horrible tales. You’re just like them, but you have to keep it subdued here, behind closed doors so that only rumors can filter out. I’ve heard the rumors, Elena, and this afternoon, you confessed them with your own lips. Your kind cannot be intimate without being physical.” She crawled toward me, her posture demure and unthreatening, almost kitten-like as she made her way to my side, then eased herself back to a kneeling position. “I’ve thought about this all day, Elena. I tried to reason myself out of it, but I see no other way. Won’t you have me?”

I shook my head. “No.”

Her lips screwed-up, and I feared she might burst into tears. God, why did she do it?! Why couldn’t she have just fucking left well-enough alone?! But of course, it was I who had altered the dynamic of our relationship with my confessional this afternoon, but… I mean, how the fuck was I supposed to know it would lead to my mother trying to fuck me?! Did emotional trauma get her juices flowing or something, because that would be… well, that would be… just… like… me… Shit. The apple didn’t fall far from the tree after all.

Mom steadied herself with two shuddering breaths through her nose, then eased away her imminent emotional breakdown with a slow exhale. Once again, her posture relaxed, and she became composed. She extended her hand, grasped the bedsheets, and slid them off my body.


She held up one finger as though to scold me for interrupting her, then she swept her eyes over my body. They moved up my legs, then lingered curiously on my crotch. I could practically feel them as they examined me. She tilted her head, trying to make sense of what she was looking at, then she continued her ocular adventure up my belly, breasts, and face. Her expression was cast in a very different light when we next made eye-contact. Her features were relaxed, her mouth slightly parted to yield her anticipatory breaths, her eyes rimmed with desire.

“You are so beautiful, Elena,” she whispered, “I always noticed it, but I never truly noticed it until you came back to me in your dark flesh, all grown up and confident in your abilities as a woman. You were still my daughter but… you were different to me. I felt something I was never supposed to feel for you, and I was so ashamed that I buried it very, very deep. But it’s out now, my beautiful baby girl. Such a beautiful girl.”

She extended her hand to touch me, then curled the fingers back into her palm when I gasped. She assessed me with an uncertain bite to her lip, then eased herself beside me, and cozied until our bodies pressed. The soft warmth of her flesh permeated into me, her breasts pillowed against my ribs, her tummy formed along my side, and her thighs pressed to my hip. Her breath was slow and steady against my cheek, the scent of her wafting into my nostrils. I was too weak to roll away from her, and so all I could do, was lie on my back, and try with all my might to tame my body. I closed my eyes to force my imagination elsewhere, but my go-to boner-killer had always been an image of my naked mother, and now that image was hardly helping. Oh, goddamn my dark-elf mind! Was there nothing sacred to me? Was there not a single innocent emotion that I could keep uncorrupted?! But of course, innocence to a dark-elf was but honey to sweeten debauchery, to drag the depravity to new lows, to heighten the perverse and disgusting ideas that made sex so much greater. My mother wanted me. My prim, proper, uptight mother was a closeted lesbian, and she wanted me, her own daughter, to fuck her. The thought twisted itself gleefully into my psyche, burrowed into my precious memories, and turned them all into dripping mosaics of depravity. And she was right against me, her hot flesh molding to my curves, her breath filling my sinuses, her heart beating into my breast.

“You’re getting hard for me.” She said softly, her voice gentle and sweet, that of a mother’s whisper. It slipped into my ear like velvet, and caressed my mind.

“Don’t touch me.” I hissed.

“I won’t. Not until you ask me to.” She smiled against my ear. “I’ve done my research on your kind, Elena. After I learned of your transformation, I’ve been gobbling-up every bit of news of the hybrids from Alkandra, trying to find out who my daughter had become. They say you have succubus blood in you. Well, a succubus can’t be forced, can she? She’s always willing. It doesn’t matter the situation, or the person. It could be her own daughter, or her own mother.” She kissed my neck so tenderly that it seemed to create a weak spot there. “Let me love you, baby-girl.” She moaned so sweetly, undulating softly against me, “I haven’t been with another for nearly twenty years. I’m practically a virgin again. Come on, baby-girl; fuck the hole you were born from.

My cock sprang, a spurt of precum frothing from its tip. Mother giggled. “I bet you didn’t think I could talk like that.” She gnawed on my earlobe, “There’s so many things you don’t know about me, Elena. Fifteen years of being a widow has led me to some… extensive self-exploration.” She pressed herself harder against me, and breathed with a shuddering whisper, “I want to try it all with you.” She overlapped her thigh with my hip, and I could feel the heat between her legs burning wetly against me. “I want you to love every inch of me,” she moaned, “please, Elena. I know you’re scared; I’m scared too. Take this step together with me.”

I closed my eyes, let out a slow breath, and whispered, “Do you want me to call you ‘Mommy?’”

She inhaled sharply through her nose, her body becoming suddenly tense. “Yes,” she whispered back, her breath quaking with arousal, “I would like that very much.”

I turned my face to hers. Her eyes were swimming, deep and blue, depthless in their love for me. She used to look at me like that when I was a child, the light of her life, the centerpiece of her future before my adolescence robbed us of our tender intimacy. But there it was: a mother’s love, so pure and vast that it consumed me in its comfort and warmth. Yes, there were perverse desires tinging that sapphire gaze, but they were not kinks born from corruption; they were simply hues of the love she already had. It was beautiful and untainted, so unlike the desires I had for her. My twisted mind painted images of vindictive power-sex, of making my mother beg for my forgiveness while I abused her, or perhaps the reverse, for our sex would have to reflect the resentment that pervaded our relationship, right?! But she only saw in me, her daughter. It broke me. I hadn’t realized how much I’d needed a mother until I saw that gaze once more, and all the horror and agony of the last two days came crashing down on me. In an instant, I was a little girl again, unable to cope with what had happened, but no longer needing to, for I had my mommy to make it all better. I wept.

She took me into her arms, and rolled me to face her. Our breasts pressed together, our nipples stabbing pleasantly as the pliant fat formed a squishing seal around them. She held my head in her hands, her fingers working delicately through my hair, and she brought me into her mouth. Never had I been kissed in such a way. It was romantic, yes, and dripping with sexuality, but the gentle slither of her tongue upon mine was like the soothing caress of her fingers; tender and maternal. She kissed me like how a mother would, and I kissed her back like a daughter, my lips and tongue asking for comfort and love, and hers responding in kind. She moaned between the seal of our lips, and overlapped her thigh with mine. My cock slipped between her legs, and she gasped suddenly, her eyes flashing open. For a moment, we just stared at each other, stuck in the anticipation of what was about to happen. My cock was nestled between her folds, teasing her entrance with my tip, throbbing in cadence with her slit as she salivated upon my shaft. Her breath was tense, her eyes reflecting my own uncertainty. We could go back from this, and never again speak of this night.

“One step at a time,” she whispered into my mouth, “whenever you’re ready.”

“I can’t move; I’m too weak.” I whispered back.

She wrinkled her nose in a smirk. “That was such a cheap cop-out, Elena. I’m disappointed in you.”

I stuck my tongue out teasingly, and she wrapped her lips around it, and grinned. I winked, and she closed her eyes. She took my tongue into her mouth, and took my cock into her pussy. Our eyes flashed wide open; our breath caught. The realization of what we’d just done shone in our gazes, our irises quivering in their bulging orbs. The sensation was more visceral than I thought possible, and the shock of it fired through my nerves. Heat. Wetness. Tightness. These were the fractured thoughts that shot through my mind before the lucid dawning came to me. I’m inside my mom. Only then did I realize the pleasure of it. And oh… oh god, what pleasure!

Mommy slowly withdrew my tongue from her sucking lips. “Elena,” she whimpered, “we’re making love.”

“Oh, fuck.” I gasped, “Oh my god…”

“It’s OK,” she whispered, her brow furrowing in pleasure, “it’s OK, baby-girl. It’s not wrong.”

“Yes, it is!” I growled, gritting my teeth against the rising pressure in my loins, “That’s what makes it so fucking hot!

Mom wrinkled her nose in a sneer. “My baby-girl’s a kinky little lady, isn’t she?”

“I’m such a fucking pervert.”

“Mmm,” she purred, “show me.

I shifted as best I could on the bed, but my body wouldn’t cooperate. I groaned frustratedly, “I want to show you what I can do, Mommy, but I’m too weak!”

“Shh…” she burred her lips against mine, “shh, baby-girl. I know you’re a stud; you don’t have to prove anything to me. Let me show you what Mommy can do.” She wrapped her thighs around my waist, and rotated us until she was straddled atop me. Her legs spread slowly, separating more and more, and she sank deeper and deeper. She pulled her hair back with both hands behind her head, and stared down with fascinated eyes as inch after inch of me went into her until I was gone. She took a moment to process the new reality and sensations, her breasts heaving with her heavy breaths, then she looked up at me from the tops of her eyes, and flexed around me. I gasped. Her internal muscles rolled up my length, sucking me deep into her, holding me tighter than any forty-year-old woman should. She stayed upright, her hands laced together behind her head, her elbows flared to push her chest forward. Her soft tummy clenched and relaxed as her hips began to rock.

“Does my baby-girl love her mommy?” She whispered, her words dripping with tender lust, her face cast in a maternal and lecherous light. Her eyes were lidded heavily as she stared down at me, her lips parted to yield her soft expiring breaths. Her breasts bobbed gently; the nipples so stiff that the dark flesh was prickled.

“Yes!” I mewled, trapped in my paralysis, unable to move. Somehow, the captivity of my flesh made everything even better. I was a helpless baby all over again, and needed my mommy to take care of me. What an exciting dynamic it was. I embraced the role wholeheartedly. Pouting my lips and batting my lashes, I tucked my chin cutely, and said in a baby-voice, “I love my mommy’s tight pussy.”

Mom giggled, and stooped low. Her arms moved before her, her back curved behind her, and her hair cascaded around her face to curtain us both, isolating us. “And mommy loves her baby-girl’s little cock in her tight pussy.”

“It’s not little!”

“Insecurity is unattractive, Dear.” Mom snickered, “You’re the perfect fit for my tiny, tight pussy.” She chewed on her lip as she backed her fat ass into me, and ground hard. I groaned, and she gasped, tilting her head, her eyes rolling back for a moment. “I never liked large men,” she whispered, “only a little cock can hit… can hit… that… spot… just… like… that… oh my god!” She breathed in sharply through her nose, “You can’t even move, and you’re already better than your father!”

“Don’t tell me that!”

She looked down at me, an amused smile creasing her gaping lips. “But when I did, your little cock flexed so hard inside of me.” She tutted her pursed lips in faux disapproval, “My baby-girl is getting off to thinking about her daddy fucking her mommy; how shameful.” She grinned wickedly, “You really are a little pervert, aren’t you?” She dipped low, and gnawed on my chin, “Tell me, my precious little pervert; what would you do right now if Daddy was in this bed with us?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“Oh, but I do.” She whispered into my ear, then poured her tongue after, lathering it with her wriggling wet member until all I could hear was the pleasant wet squelching. Warmth permeated around the strange erogenous zone, creating a pleasurable tingle that traveled down my neck, and up to the base of my skull. Her tight womanhood kept my cock snuggled firmly inside of her as she performed her bizarre oral dance, lining my cartilage with the tip of her tongue, curling around the folds, swirling into the crevasses. I moaned, tilting my head to give her a better angle. She smiled, then mouthed around my entire ear, gently closing her plush lips to fold it.

“What are you doing?” I giggled.

“You used to like this when you were a baby.”

You did this to me when I was a baby?!

She quirked her lips around my ear, then popped it free from her mouth, and smiled down at me. “It wasn’t sexual, you silly girl.”

“It is now.” I said, “That’s something you have to know about me, Mom. Everything, and I mean everything will be sexualized with me. Nothing is off limits. Nothing.”

“Well then, you naughty little hybrid…” Mom grinned, and rolled her lewd muscles up my length, coercing a groan from me, “…are you going to tell me what you’d do to your daddy?”

“I’d fuck him in the ass while he fucked you.” I whispered, “I’m make him come inside you, then I’d pull out of him before I busted, and add my gravy to the baby stew. That way, when you got pregnant, it would be like I was the father too.”

Mom blinked. “Good god, Elena.”

I chewed my lip naughtily, “You asked.”

Her lips quirked. “I’m going to have to punish you now, you disgusting girl.”

I grinned, and stuck my tongue out. “Do your worst.”

She took my hands from my sides, and held them together over my head, pinning me gently. Her body stretched into the position, tilting her pelvis up to slide my cock halfway out of her. Her wet netherlips secreted on my shaft all the way, and clung to my exit in stretching folds of pink flesh, all glistening with her desire. I moaned, and she chuckled, squeezing my wrists in her grip.

“I was never a good disciplinarian,” she mused through her sensual breaths, “I just can’t hurt people; it’s not in my nature. But I can be dominating when I need to be.” She raked her fingers through my hair, and created a soft fist. She smiled when I whimpered. “And you can be very submissive, hmm?”

“Yes, Mommy.” I whispered, my voice tense with pleasure.

“Is this how it will be between us then?”

“Mmm,” I moaned, wiggling beneath her, “for now.” I levelled a dangerous stare, and winked, “Someday, your baby-girl’s gonna grow up though. Then maybe you’ll see another side of me.”

She quirked her lips. “I await the day with great anticipation, but for now…” she gently pulled me upright, and planted my face between her tits, “…you’re just my helpless baby-girl, and you need Mommy to take care of you.”

She cradled my head like I was a newborn, and guided my mouth to her nipple. When I wrapped my lips around it, she mewled with such joy that I knew I’d found one of her week points. It was a vulnerability only reserved for me, the babe who once drank life from her breasts, for she embraced me with such familiar love when I began to suckle, and hummed breathy lullabies. As she sang her lustful, maternal song, she rocked me in her arms, nurturing me, grinding on me, lulling me to a peaceful state in my primal mind, and stoking my carnality all the same. A mother’s songful whisper. A lover’s breathy whimper. They suffused within her voice as I drew her nipple between my lips, flicking my tongue across the swollen node, pumping with my muzzle like I was nursing from her. She looked down upon me with such love, adoring me with those beautiful blue eyes, doting upon me with her fingers through my hair, caressing the roots so tenderly. She undulated onto my crotch, taking my raging shaft deep into her supple insides, closing around me, embracing me, milking me for all I was worth. Her pussy salivated upon my crotch, her clear nectar stringing from her folds, the fluid smearing between us, hot, sensual, an oil of lust to compel the squelching of my gentle violation.

“That’s it, baby-girl,” she moaned so softly, “Mommy’s got you. Mommy’s making you feel so good. Are you going to come for Mommy?”

I nodded with her nipple in my mouth, staring dotingly from the tops of my eyes.

She sniffled, touched beyond reason by the simple gesture. “Mommy wants you to come inside her. Can you do that for me, baby-girl?”

I nodded again. Mom’s face lit up in a radiant smile, and she pulled me deeper into her bosom. My muzzle squished into her supple breast, and I closed my eyes, contentedly surrendering to the lust of the woman who’d birthed me. Her thighs squeezed my hips as she rocked back and forth, pressing her succulent ass into my crotch, creating a soft seal of warmth around the center of her penetration. I slid through her like butter, dividing her fleshy insides, penetrating into her wet, spasming swaths until they were contracting around me. Her breath became husky and low; her hands began to grip my head tighter. She mewled as she rocked, the sound nearly mournful, and so needful.

“You’re making your mommy come,” she whimpered, “you’re cock feels so good inside me!” She kissed the top of my head, and held me tight, “You’re coming too; I can feel it! Come with me! Give me everything! Oh baby-girl, oh baby-girl, oh… Elena!

She ground her pelvis down, pivoting and swirling, smearing her juices across my crotch, her soft petals outturning and deforming against me. My cock stirred her insides, stretching her entrance, massaging her spasming inner-flesh until it was fluttering around me, squeezing me, willing me to burst. My eyes flashed wide open, and I stared at her as I nursed from her, suckling and fucking, humming my orgasmic cries as she sang her mournful tune of ascension. She heaved over and over, driving our bodies together, sliding her clinging channel up and down my length until I was pulsating and throbbing wildly inside of her, every inch of my being seeming to rush into my loins, the pressure building, building, building, and bursting! I sputtered against her nipple, my spit slathering her, my body becoming rigid with ecstasy. She clamped around me, and shuddered from head to toe, holding onto me for dear life as tense hisses expired from her lips. So subtle was her orgasm, so suppressed in its expression, but I could feel the raging euphoria that coursed through her, the waves that crashed inside over and over. Finally, she threw back her head, and exalted with a hoarse cry, and my voice joined her until they both waned.

The passion ebbed from me, and while our breaths decelerated, I became gripped with anxiety. Mom wasn’t like me. Now that the veil of lust had been lifted, she would realize what she’d done. Cautiously, I lifted my eyes to hers, expecting to see horror writ across her gaze. Instead, I was met with a look of such love that it struck me.

“Amazing,” she whispered, “you’re amazing, Elena.”

“You don’t… feel weird about it?”

“I do, but…” she crinkled her nose at me, “…it’s a good kind of weird.”

I stared at her, slightly awed by what I was seeing. “Who is this woman?”

“I don’t know,” she giggled, hunching her shoulders excitedly, “but I can’t wait to find out!” She bit her lip, and rotated her hips sensually, moaning through her nose. “Mmm… so, it’s true what they say about you hermaphrodites, hmm?” She shuddered when some of me leaked out of her, “Your seed is special.” She chewed on her lip contemplatively, “My own daughter’s sperm is inside me; words I never thought I’d say. Words I never knew would bring me such joy.” She cast her eyes downward, and licked her lips, “But I’m a lesbian, Elena, and I’ve only enjoyed the masculine parts of you.” She slid her hand between us, and pressed it gently upon my chest. With a gradual extension of her arm, she guided me to lie on my back. “I want to know what my daughter’s pussy tastes like.” She hissed.

My cock flexed so hard that Mom’s eyes flashed open in surprise. She gasped, then laughed endearingly. “But I’ll make sure to take care of him first.”

She eased herself upright, her tight netherlips pulling from her body to suck my shaft all the way. We moaned together, then sighed when I popped free, my cock slapping my pelvis, splattering my belly with cum. She hovered her slit over my throbbing underside, and let the rest of my nectar drool from her relaxed opening to frost my cock. She looked at me, and smiled coyly, then looked back at the art she’d created.

“Can I tell you a secret?” She whispered.

“You haven’t told me all of them already?”

She wrinkled her nose. “I’ve never given oral pleasure before.”

“Do you want me to tell you how?”

“Just…” she let her voice trail off as she crawled down my body, “…just give me some pointers along the way.”

She placed her hands upon my inner-thighs, and spread my legs wide as she descended between them. Her breasts pillowed beneath her, and her ass bulged behind her, spread tantalizingly wide to create a beautiful profile. With my cock glued to my belly, nothing obstructed mom’s view from everything between my legs. She looked upon my sexuality with fascination, making sense of every fold and crease, every supple dip and moist orifice.

“It’s so pretty.” She whispered, trailing her eyes from my pussy, to my cock, “Even your penis is somehow effeminate.” She pressed her finger against my underside, and gently trailed it through my syrupy seed, “It’s small, and smooth, and not veiny at all.” She flicked her finger away from the head, securing a dollop on her fingertip, “The head is tucked nice and neatly into your foreskin like a shy little bald man in a turtle neck. Such a pretty little girl-penis.”

“If you weren’t my mother, I’d slap you!” I giggled.

She quirked her lips devilishly. “You’re too weak to move, baby-girl. I can do whatever I want to you.” She brought her finger to her mouth, “Besides,” she whispered, “I meant it all as a compliment.” She sucked her finger clean, rolled her eyes contemplatively, and smacked her lips, testing the flavor. Then her pupils dilated, and she smiled stupidly. “Oh, there’s incubus in you too, isn’t there? Such a potent venom.” She tremored between my legs, and moistened her lips with her tongue, “Where are my inhibitions going, Elena?” She tittered, “Oh no! They’re leaving me!”

“You’re so fucking crazy.”

“Well, you know what they say about crazy pussy.” Mom snickered, and hovered her lips over my cock. She opened her mouth, and a rivulet of saliva descended freely from her lower lip to cascade down my cock like butter. She extended the point of her tongue to my base, and licked her way up, her tongue flattening upon its path until it was folded over my underside, nestling the entire berth in its hot, supple embrace. She cleaned me off in one lick, collected my white spunk on her tongue, showed it to me with a gaping smile, then curled her tongue back into her mouth, closed it, and swallowed. She savored the taste with an indulgent exhale, and moaned, “Nothing so disgusting should ever taste that delicious.” She opened her heavily-lidded eyes, “You’re my little chocolate decadence, baby-girl, and I am going to eat every inch of you.”

“Holy shit.” I gasped.

She giggled. “I love that I can make you react like that.” She glanced back down at my cock, “Now, where was I?”

She ran her tongue up me once more, lathering me in a coat of her warm spit before hovering her lips about my head. She pursed them, placing a delicate, maternal kiss upon my tip, then she opened her mouth, and slowly, carefully took me inside of it.

“Teeth.” I instructed breathily.

Mom folded her lips over her teeth, and let my shaft pass through them.

“Tongue,” I moaned, “curl it around me!”

Mom created a bed of her warm tongue, nestling me into it, the tip caressing me beckoningly as she moved me deeper. She got to her throat, and paused.

“Relax,” I groaned, “just let it… slide in.”

Her throat clenched and fluttered, tears formed in her eyes, and she gagged violently. The sudden contraction was heaven on my flesh, and I gritted my teeth against the pleasure that surged into my loins.

“You have to relax it.” I hissed.

Though she tried valiantly, she couldn’t manage her gag-reflex. After choking on me for another minute, she pulled back, a look of disappointment in her tear-filmed eyes.

“It’s OK,” I groaned, “no one gets it their first time.”

She pulled my cock from her mouth, slurping all the way up. It popped free with a smack of her lips, and rested alongside her nose, covering one eye. “I bet you got it the first try.” She snickered.

“Well,” I smirked, “I am a natural.”

“You always were such an over-achiever.” She smiled, and went back to work. Her lips circled around me once more, her tongue pillowed wetly about my underside, and she slipped me into her blissful mouth. I groaned in torpid splendor, unable to move, trapped in my incestual victimhood as my mother fed so tenderly from me. She watched me the whole time, her eyes only closing to savor my flavor, then opening to reveal their sapphire depths, heavily-lidded with satisfied lust, staring with such adoration up at me. My cock began to thump and throb, the pressure building in my loins, my prostate pulsating with contractions, turning my entire pelvic floor into a current of pleasure. I mewled for her, watching the sexual avarice rise in her eyes, the gluttony of me, the unending desire. Her cheeks went gaunt with her suction, her lips slurped and squelched with the high squeaks of pressure, and her head bobbed up and down, up and down, up and down. Her tight seal massaged my length, rotated to change the angle, squeezed me for all I was worth, milked me like a cum-cow until I was crying out between whimpers, unable to contend with such wonderful sensations.

“Mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy, MOMMY!” I squealed higher and higher, then exploded once more, spurting thick gouts into my mother’s mouth, the pleasure surging up my shaft until every drop had left me. She coaxed all that she could with her lips, humming a moan of lechery, her tongue playing with the hot mixture, frosting my shaft with it until she swallowed the entire load with me still inside of her. As I panted with the aftershocks of ecstasy, she slowly slipped me from her mouth, and beamed.

“Well, how was that?” she asked.

“Do you really need a review after I came like that?!

“You know mothers love compliments from their children.”

I smiled contentedly down at her. “You were awesome.”

She blushed, and smiled coyly. “I’m awesome at sucking a penis,” she echoed with an embarrassed little eyeroll, “thanks a lot, Elena.”

“You’re sincerely welcome.” I giggled.

Mom laughed with me, then her mirth dwindled into a comfortable anticipation. “You’re penis is wonderful and all,” she said, “but I’m much more interested in the female parts of you.” She moved backward, her face sliding behind my pelvis until only her eyes were visible. I could feel her breath against me, hot and short with anticipation, more needful than it had been all night.

“You’re so beautiful down here.” She whispered. I felt her hands sliding up my thighs, converging on the space between them. Her touch was so careful, so delicate that I almost didn’t feel it until it came upon sensitive flesh. Then, I felt it keenly. Her fingertips caressed my outer lips, pressing gently into the folds, tracing the puffy contours so precisely. She indented the flesh with a light touch, then spread me open, revealing the petals, the slit, and the dilated ovule. Her eyes closed, and she sniffed me like I was a rose. When she exhaled, her breath was shuddering from her. “So, so beautiful.” She hissed, then peered up at me, “How do you want me to touch you?”

“How do you want to touch me?” I smiled with a quirked brow.

“How I would want to be touched, I suppose.”

“Then let me show you how I want to be touched.” I whispered, licking my lips.

Mom puzzled over the ergonomics of the proposition, then shuffled backward, and rotated awkwardly. For a moment, all the sensuality was gone from her while she tried to address the logistics of arms and legs, then she figured it out, and smiled back at me. Her plump ass wiggled in the air, the cheeks clapping gently to barely expose what was between them. As she shuffled backward, she teased her advance with her gyrating hips. Soon, her tummy was pressing against mine, and her pelvis was resting on my breasts. I felt her pillowing chest sink into my crotch, enveloping my cock, and I groaned pleasantly. Then, with much effort, I managed to get my uncooperative hands in front of me, sink my thumbs into the dimples of the succulent pale domes before my face, and peel them apart.

“Mommy?” I gasped, “Did you get a wax?”

“Earlier today,” she smiled back at me over her shoulder, “just for you, baby-girl.”

“It’s the best present anyone’s ever gotten me.” I giggled, admiring Mom’s assets. Her pussy was remarkable tight for a woman of her age, though I could see the effects of childbirth on it. How a baby had come out of an opening so small was a wonder, and realizing that that baby had been me was even stranger. Her puffy folds were blushing with arousal around the ribbons of flesh that made her inner-sanctum, and I slid my thumbs to those curtains, and opened them gently. She quivered atop me, and I reclined my head to catch her expression as she stared back at me. There was anxiety in her eyes, like that of a virgin girl, but there was need—oh, such need. This time, I would have to take the first step for the both of us.

I levelled my gaze upon the flower I’d opened between her folds. The unfurled petals were vivid pink and glistening with her nectar, webbed with strings of my cum and moving gently on their own, seaming to shift with some long expiration from the small hole at their center. Her opening was swollen from the abuse it had taken, and was now ruby in color and teeming with sensation. My eyes drew to her clitoral hood, which now only partially-concealed the throbbing pearl within it. That was always a good place to start.

“Just relax, Mommy.” I whispered into her depths, enjoying the feminine scent of her, “I’ve got something special just for you.”

I pursed my lips around her clit, and sucked sensually. She gasped, her legs quivered, and her belly tensed. I quirked my lips around my dessert, and drew her into my mouth. With her secured gently behind my lips, I snaked my tongue to the forefront, and began drawing patterns across her.

“Oh my goodness!” Mom whimpered, “Oh, sweet holy mother above!”

Her breath was hot and unsteady upon my nethers, pants of euphoria without regard for her situation. I rotated my mouth around her, circling her with my tongue, then drew my point to her, and flicked rapidly. Her mewling became high and desperate, sounding nearly like fits of frustration, like she was unable to contend with the sensations she was experiencing between her legs.

“Elena!” she cried, “Stop! No… no, don’t stop! I can’t… oh god, it’s too good! You’re going to make me come!”

I slurped loudly in response, a devilish smile creasing my occupied lips, my tongue only torturing her further. Her hips began to oscillate without her permission, her body reacting to the barest motions of my tormenting appendage. My mother was becoming my tongue-puppet, and I abused the poor woman. I released her from my sucking mouth, and danced across her swollen red clit with all the dexterity my tongue had to offer, swirling, teasing with the point, lying flat against her and encasing her into a bed of supple oral flesh. She hissed and sputtered, wined and whimpered, cawed and croaked. Her fingers dug into my flank, squeezing my ass just to have something to hold onto, to keep her earthbound lest she ascend into insanity.

“Elena, Elena, Elena!” She sobbed, each call of my name becoming more desperate until her voice broke. I worked her into a frenzy, pushed her past the point of mania, and over the precipice. Her back dove into an arch, her shoulders pinched back, her tummy distended convexly, and she came. Hot liquid sprayed from her urethra, dousing my face, filming my muzzle. I giggled delightedly at my mother’s loss of bodily functions, and hovered my mouth over the sweet spray, drinking it in. She cried out through it all, sounding each wave that crashed through her until the ocean within subsided, and she was left panting on my nethers.

“What was that?!” She hissed when words returned to her.

“That was a girl blowjob.” I tittered, “Since you did such a good job sucking me, I decided to return the favor.”

“How chivalrous of you.” Mom finished collecting her breath, then smiled back at me, “Now, where were we?”

“Follow my lead, Mommy.” I smirked, and descended once more. I shifted my face beneath her, and planted my muzzle right into her heat. She gasped, taken by the sudden sensation, and I had to remined her of her duties with a flex of my cock between her legs. Her equanimity was restored, and she hovered her mouth over my netherlips, and gave me a kiss. For a moment, she did nothing.

“I’ve waited so long for a moment like this.” She whispered, “Never in a million years did I think it would happen, and the last person I ever thought it would happen with, is you. Thank you so much for giving me this.”

“You talk too much, Mommy.”

She smirked, her lips brushing me so gently, “I’ll put my mouth to better use then.” She nuzzled her nose and mouth into my slit, smooshing the delicate flesh, spreading the puffy curtains. She inhaled through her nose, filling her sinuses with my scent, and she let out a shaking breath through her mouth, moistening my dewy flesh. I smiled around her folds, and snaked my tongue into her slit. She shuddered, and did the same. I traced her inner-folds with my tongue, taking care to lick those small creases and pleats, leaving no surface untouched. She followed my lead, though not exactly. Her tongue was exploratory, her movements were curious, and she tested herself with me, listening for my tutoring cues. I was overly-receptive, moaning loudly when she was doing well, always feeding her the necessary positive reinforcement. She was a virgin in this kind of lust, so she was incredibly easy to please, and her responsiveness only propelled me further.

I snaked two fingers through her slit, and parted it with a fork of the digits. It took her a moment to react in kind, for she was briefly stunned by the sudden exposure of her insides. Then, she opened me as well, and I felt her breath being gently pushed into my depths. I lathered her outsides on my path toward her entrance, then rested the point of my tongue against her tight opening, and slithered it inside. She inhaled sharply through her nose, her knees clamped around my head, and her ass wiggled in the shock of her violation. I couldn’t help but giggle endearingly at her reaction, and with an impish daughterly grin, I began misbehaving inside my mommy.

I burrowed my tongue deeper, swirling it inside, slathering her entrance with my spit as I tenderly stretched it open. She clenched around me, mewling with a disbelieving tenor, frozen in the pleasure I licked into her. Oh, she tasted delicious, and the very idea that I now knew intimately what my mother tasted like aroused me to greater heights. I didn’t fool around inside her; I went right for her spot, my tongue sliding along her contoured ceiling until she cried out my name in glee. Once there, I tortured her ceaselessly, drawing myriad patterns with differing speeds until I finally found the combination that made her thighs quiver, her insides clench, her hips rock, and her mouth whimper. Then, locking-in to her vulnerable swath of nerves and flesh, I flexed my cock through her milky tits, and reminded her once more of her duties.

“Sorry, baby-girl.” She mouthed against me, unable to give voice to what she wanted to say, for she was breathless. She didn’t snake her tongue inside me, but poured it in, a waterfall of supple wet flesh and spit that stretched me open, burrowed deep, and tasted without manners. I was shocked by her sudden unbridled hedonism, her gluttony of me. She feasted, slobbering and squelching, mouthing around me with spit-filled kisses as she extended her fat tongue to its full length, and began cleaning me out. She wasn’t following my lead at all, but reacting intuitively to her own instincts, flying free from my teachings, becoming her own woman. I was almost proud of her, but pride was a hard emotion to feel when I was taken so suddenly by her boorish consumption.

“Mommy, your tongue feels so good in my pussy!” I squealed like a little girl, and Mom twerked her hips teasingly to remind me of my duties to her. I slid my tongue back into her, and recommenced my torment of her vulnerable spot. She responded in kind, finding my erogenous points, and manipulating them—manipulating me. My body moved at her command, shifting and wiggling, gyrating and grinding, writhing beneath her in a pathetic dance of submission. Perhaps she was inexperienced, but she was still my mother, and I was still her baby-girl. She dominated me, but it was a maternal overbearingness that took me, a love I needed to submit to. My tongue ceased its fervent dance inside her, and began to caress her spot lovingly. Slowly, tenderly, I drew my tongue around and through it, quelling the growing storm between her legs, bringing the boil to a simmer. She did not let up on me. Her avaricious consumption of my cunt only became more impassioned. Her lips smacked and rotated, her nose pressed into my folds, her hands kept me spread open, and her tongue… oh god, her tongue! Though she was unrefined and slobbery, her tongue was soft and wet, slathering me so completely, leaving no part of me untasted. I could only quiver at the knees, a slave to the lassitude that had begun to suffuse my groin, the feeling that ballooned ever outward, roiling through me, turning my strength into weakness, making me clench in spasms until my neck striated with tension, and I was gritting my teeth against the rising current that tore through me!

“I’m coming!” I cried, and forced my tongue back inside her, dancing it across her spot, making her insides flex and flutter until her back dove into an arch, and her muffled squeals sounded from my depths. We crested the final wave together, and crashed down as one, heaving in the bouts of hysteria that still wracked our ruined muscles.

“Oh my god,” Mom panted, “that was incredible.” She turned around to look back at me over her shoulder, her nose and mouth covered with a film of my lust. “You’re incredible.” She beamed.

“You got me all of your face.” I giggled.

She licked her lips lecherously. “Delicious.”

I grinned coyly back at her, and lowered my face to her depths. I planted a little kiss on her clit, and enjoyed how it pulsed, still so responsive. I slid the point of my tongue through her slit, and savored the way the petals gave way to me, opening like a flower to invite my entrance. I pursed my lips, and kissed her all the way up her taint, the taste of her becoming sourer, but not unpleasant to my unique palate. When my eyes crested the convergence of her bulging cheeks, she was looking at me with a perplexed expression. I licked her taint from the bottom of her pussy, relishing the way the flesh prickled, then I continued my path all the way to her puckered, tight asshole. There, I planted a tender kiss, adding a lip print to the spoked aperture. Mom gasped, shock in her eyes, but though she might’ve been truly surprised by what I’d done, her tight little asshole pushed back against my mouth when I touched it.

“Elena, what are you doing?!” She exclaimed.

I grinned at her. “Don’t play coy with me, Mommy; I felt you push back.” I sniffed her vile button, and shuddered at the decadent scent. “You’ve played with this hole before, haven’t you?”

Her cheeks burned furiously. “I… I… was drunk and alone… I was just… curious.” She hid her face in her hands, “Oh good mother above! This is so humiliating!”

I gave her a bemused smile. “After everything else, this is the humiliating part?!”

She peeked at me from between her fingers. “It’s so filthy, Elena. Only degenerates derive pleasure from such a spot.”

I raised my brows. “Degenerates like me, you mean?”

“You know what I meant!” She snapped.

“Ah… you meant gay people. Not lesbians, obviously; lesbianism is frowned upon, but not outright reviled. Not like those gays who stick their… mmm… stick their wet, soft tongues right into each other’s tight little assholes, right?” I whispered. I planted my hands onto Mom’s supple cheeks, and squeezed until my fingers disappeared in the fat. She moaned, her head tilting up, one of her eyes looking back with comingled concern and pleasure.

“What are you doing, Elena?” She hissed.

“Oh, nothing.” I giggled, “Nothing gross like those damn faggots do, anyway.” I stuck my tongue out, “Nothing like that at all.” Before she could object, I’d spread her fat ass open, planted my mouth around her tiny anal ring, and pushed my tongue through the dot at its center. I popped my wriggling point into her hot channel, squirmed the rest inside, and tasted her. She gasped, her shoulders pinching back, her entire back clenching in a display of soft muscular shadows.

“Elena!” She screamed.

“Mommy!” I mouthed evilly back, and swirled my tongue around, dilating her further, smoothing the spokes of her anus until the tight entrance stayed open for me. Mom was unable to contend with the foreign pleasure, for she was stuck halfway between scolding me and begging me, her eyes a beautiful storm of conflict. The conflict was short-lived, however, for when my lips began applying suction around her rim, and drew the pressure outward until it was a swollen ring of congested nerves, all she could do was collapse atop me, and whimper in surrendered pleasure. I withdrew one of my gripping hands from her flank, letting the cheek reform, and I placed it on her pussy. There, I penetrated her readied slit with my middle and index fingers, curled them toward me, and pressed against the point of my tongue from the other side. After that, she was butter in my lap. With no verbal persuasion at all, she licked her way through my slit, down my crack, and into my ass. She smacked her lips to test the flavor of my filthiest fun-spot, and mumbled bemusedly, “I don’t know how I expected it to taste,” before she pressed her thumbs around my rim, and stretched it to a ruby oval. Then, she too began to taste me from the inside.

We ate each other’s asses with lazy lust, too spent from our previous bouts to try too hard. We slathered and stretched each other, using our fingers to explore our vacant holes as we worked in tandem to bring each other to a mutual anal orgasm. This one was less violent than the others, but it was seeped in that filthiness that gave it an extra pang of pleasure, that forbidden convulsion that occurred deep, deep inside us, in a place where we were not supposed to feel such delights. When it was over, we were so exhausted that we couldn’t even move off each other, and simply made pillows of each other’s thighs as we idly fingered the holes before us.

As my pinky knuckle slipped into Mom’s ass, and the rest moved inside the hole I once called home, I yawned, “What will tomorrow bring for us?”

“Don’t worry about it, baby-girl.” She sighed contentedly, mildly fascinated with how easily I took four of her fingers into my ass. “God, you’re so stretchy.”


She smiled back at me, and retracted her fingers one by one, letting the knuckles pop just like I’d taught her. “It’s a compliment.” She snickered, then made a show of sniffing her pinched fingers, drawing her fat tongue all the way out, licking each one clean.

I crinkled my nose at her. “You, my dearest mother, are a nasty, nasty bitch.”

She blushed with pleasure. “Thank you.”

“I mean it.” I said, giving her rump a good smack, which she enjoyed, “Most women would never do the things you did.”

“I would never have done any of that if it weren’t for you.” She said with a mildly-accusatory tone, “You have a way of persuading your lovers to participate in your perversions, don’t you?”

I grinned evilly. “Maybe. Maybe I just have a way of awakening their fun sides.” I flicked the point of my tongue across Mom’s anal rim, and giggled when she quivered, “I didn’t make you like it in the ass, Mommy. You were an anal slut long before.”

“Don’t say that about your mother.” She cooed, smiling behind a curtain of her blonde hair.

“Such a dirty anal slut.” I giggled, twisting my pinky inside her gripping hole.

Her breath caught, and her lazy smile quirked just a little bit. “You insolent little brat.”

“What are you gonna do about it?”

She wrinkled her nose. “I know what you’re trying to do.”

“What?” I asked with big, innocent eyes.

“You’re trying to talk me into letting you sodomize me.”

“Is it working?” I whispered around an expectant smile, and began slowly thrusting my pinky, pushing into her tight hole, stretching it with my retreat so that her rim sucked upon my knuckles.

She groaned, her brow furrowing in defeat. “I shouldn’t let you do these things to me.”

“But you like it.”

“God, I like it so much!” She hissed, her pussy dripping its nectar onto the hollow of my throat.

“I love corrupting you.” I giggled.

“I love it too.” She smiled weakly back at me, “I want you to push me to my limits every time we make love. But remember, baby-girl,” her smile turned into a wicked grin, “it was me who started this whole thing when you were so reluctant, so who’s really corrupting who?”


“You didn’t get all your fun genetics from Yavara.”

“I guess not.” I laughed, and beckoned her up to me. She rotated, releasing my fingers from her holes, and she crawled up my body, and nestled herself in the crook of my arm. We shifted uncomfortably for a moment before we both realized what the problem was. Then we shared a knowing giggle, and I made myself small so that she could move behind and beneath me, and wrap me in her embrace. I nestled my head between her pillowing breasts, and she planted an affectionate kiss on my neck, then pressed her crotch into my ass, forming a pliant seal. Her hand came around to gently grasp my cock, and her trailing fingers slid down to rest upon my slit. I became hard and wet, but not excited. My lust had been sated, and what was left of it was content with being slowly burned off in my slumber, with my mommy holding me tight, protecting me from all that was bad in the world. I drifted easily into sleep, and for once, I didn’t think about Leveria or Yavara all the rest of the night.
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