Midnight Snack



       Days continue to pass after that. Until one night Octavia finds herself awake, late at night and with nothing to do but stare at her roof.
       Not even fingering herself seemed to be doing the trick as she longed for her beloved Fenir –who was out and about on an errand ordered by Stolas that same night.
       It felt like the world had a coup against her in motion and was punishing her for her bad behaviour.
       Unable to think straight she had to think of something. Octavia remembered reading online that a warm glass of milk was great to court sleep and although it wasn’t great to clench thirst –it would at least keep her body busy.
       With nothing to lose she made her way to the kitchen.
       
       ***
       
       —Well, well. —Stella’s voice is heard from within—. Look who it is…
       —M-Mom… —Octavia felt awkward, confused—. Didn’t expect you here.
       Stella was hiding in the darkness of the kitchen, but through the moonlight you could see her exquisite figure covered by a translucent nightgown, exposing delicate lingerie. 
       —Just thought of having a little something. —Stella replied—.
       Octavia went past her mother, still questioning her presence and the ominous tone she talked with. Getting the carton of milk and warming it up on a glass all while feeling her piercing stare.
       Octavia’s pyjamas were not even a good reason to stare anyway, just her black loose shirt and panties. What she always wears at night.
       —I take it you too are having sleeping problems? —Stella continued—.
       —I’m just not tired. That’s all. —Octavia evaded the question—. And you?
       —I’m just too pent up. —Stella’s voice turned explicit—. I was going to use that mutt of yours, but your stupid father had to ruin it. I bet you thought the same.
       Octavia blushed, not only at the audacity of her mother to just openly talk about her sexual cravings but also the fearlessness of her declaration about using Fenir for her own pleasure despite the clear relationship between Octavia and the hellhound.
       —I-I did… But that’s none of your business. —Octavia was a little jealous—. Besides, Fenir isn’t just a toy you can use-
        —She is if you want to keep her. —Stella chuckled an evil laugh, interrupting Octavia—. You thought there were no consequences to dating a filthy hellhound?
       —What do you-
       —It doesn’t matter, instead how about you help me instead.
       Stella approached Octavia seductively. Their breasts pushing against her like a sign of dominance over her daughter as she forcefully grabbed Octavia’s hand to rub herself over her labia.
       The owl girl was in shock, but she was also getting aroused inexplicably. She could feel her mother’s wetness trough the clothing and how it invited her fingers inside. Out of nowhere Octavia was now breathing heavily as she began to drip as well.
       Somehow, the dominance of her mother was too much for her to handle, and her spirit broke like a house of cards –as if this was what she was looking for all along.
       —Good girl… —Stella praised her—. I think you earned that glass of milk you came for.
       Without hesitation, Stella broke away from Octavia and sat on the kitchen counter, pulling down her gown to expose herself and taking apart her underwear to show her magnificent breasts.
       Next thing she began to pour the warm milk all over her tits for Octavia to observe.
       —Well, what are you waiting for?
       Via did not falter. She walked towards her mother and with both hands took her breasts as she began to lick them clean.
       The more Octavia got rid of the milk, Stella poured back twice as much. And with their perfect shape, it all focused on her nipples so her daughter could pretend to breastfeed from her the same way she did when she was just a chick.
       Each suck sent an electric shock through Stella’s body. Every time Octavia bit her nipples was answered by excited moaning.
       Somehow it all worked flawlessly as Stella pleasured herself through her daughter’s antics.
       But despite it all there was still one glaring issue. There weren’t many ways in which they could play to their hearts content on the kitchen alone.
       Stella wanted to have Octavia eat her out –maybe frot their pussies together too and some more.
       Maybe she just needed to play it as a multi-scenario game where each position would require a new place to play.
       But for now, she was fine with having her tits sucked out while Octavia fingered herself as she eagerly wanted to reach her first climax.
       Yet, Stella would distract her constantly. Feeding her more milk or grabbing her face for a forceful kiss that would allow her to taste the same flavours her daughter tasted. The powerplay only making things better by the second.
       Suddenly, Stella felt like her first chance to get rough was pending. She grabbed her daughter’s hair, pulling her head back to look into her eyes.
       —Is this how you do it with her? Are you just pretending I’m Fenir? Or are you holding back?
       But Octavia’s mind was blank. All she was doing was to respond to Stella’s commands and tagging along for the experience of her life.
       —More… —Was all Octavia could word out—.
       Inspired, Stella pushed her around and switched places.
       Now Octavia had her back against the counter as Stella exposed her daughter’s body to the bright moonlight.
       —Never mind that bitch.. You’re soaking wet. —Stella made fun of her—. You also needed this, don’t you?
       As those words were muttered, Stella drove her hand to Via’s entrance, pushing a couple fingers inside without build up. The girl’s body posing not the slightest resistance.
       —Yes! —Octavia moaned with a loud scream—.
       —What a slut you turned out to be…
       And the scene continued until the kitchen proved to be not enough of a scenario for their deed.
       Moving to the lounge room, dropping themselves on the sofa that faced the ever-burning fireplace.
       The green hue of hellfire gave them a new tone as Stella kept her daughter down and spread her legs in order to ride her.
       And while Octavia continued to moan in pleasure, her mother had taken an ever-growing aggressive mannerism. She pushed her pussy against Octavia’s the same way Fenir would have pushed her cock inside her; or the same way Stella would have pushed the hellhound’s member into her womb.
       A play pretend that worked for both, one way or the other.
       The crackling of the fireplace turned their pleasuring sounds into a lustful orchestra as their tits bounced, and their sweat dropped.
       As Stella intensified her thrusts, Octavia’s body arched off the couch in response, moans echoing through the room. Her claws dug into the soft fabric of the sofa, leaving tiny claw marks behind. The pleasure coursing through her was overwhelming, and she knew she couldn’t last much longer.
       With a loud cry that seemed to come from somewhere deep inside her, Octavia orgasmed hard, her body shuddering and quivering beneath her mother’s weight. Stella felt the hot rush of release as well, her muscles tense and her own cries filling the room.
       The clash of both of their genital fluids made a quick mess of them and the fancy furniture. A more visual example of the intense fornication between them.
       The pleasure was intense, and they both knew there was no stopping now. The scissoring continued, their bodies grinding together as if trying to absorb the other into them. Sweat dripped from their faces, trailing down their backs and sides, mingling with their arousal as it pooled on the couch beneath them.
       As Octavia felt herself starting to near her peak once more, she let out a primal cry that vibrated through her whole body, echoing in Stella’s core.
       Despite her now considerable experience with Fenir, this was Octavia’s first time having multiple orgasms without rest. Something about it was extremely appealing to her and her body was unable to keep it hidden.
       Their hips bucked wildly against each other.
       And while Octavia turned more and more into a broken mess, Stella seemed to instead build composure. The more she forced her daughter to drop for her, the stronger she became.
       —Look at what you have done. —Stella said with a grin—. Ruining an expensive sofa because you couldn’t hold yourself back. I am starting to think that mutt uses you for her pleasure and not the other way around. Do you enjoy yourself getting humiliated that much?
       Octavia could not answer, but her hands did all the talking as she touched herself and played with her nipples just to keep the excitement going. She didn’t want it to stop no matter what.
       But while they were having the time of their lives, the noise wouldn’t go unnoticed.
       Not by staff or bystanders; since they were trained and taught to mind their business. But by Stolas, who’s sleep was most likely disturbed by it at some point.
       The sound of his steps echoing through the palace like an approaching enemy that hunts you down.
       Displeased by this, Stella had Octavia drop to the floor, knowing that if they remained in their current position Stolas would realize the truth and most likely call them out.
       But unwilling to give her daughter a break, she came up with a brilliant idea.
       Stella sat down, her legs spread open towards the fire, and with a violent grip she forced Octavia to eat her out.
       As long as Stolas did not try to sit down, it was impossible for him to realize their actions. And by the time he reached the right room, the plan proved flawless.
       —Care you to tell me what you are doing, Stella?
       Stolas stood next to the doorway, only able to see Stella’s naked top and the moving flames front of her.
       —Had to warm myself up, since I can’t seem to be able to do so with your pathetic ass.
       But Stolas’ voice alerted Octavia. Her eyes opening wide while she was being forced to continue to perform oral sex on her mother. Her mind wondering on the possibilities of getting caught.
       Would her father hate her?
       Would he try to join?
       Would he be disgusted or unamazed by it and walk away?
       All while her beak was getting pushed deeper and deeper into Stella’s cervix –making Octavia’s tongue reach the depts of her mother’s uterus.
       Meanwhile, Stolas rolled his eyes to Stella’s response.
       —You know, just saying “I am not tired” is just as good. Stella.
       —You asked, I gave you an honest answer. Maybe next time you can learn how to be a man.
       In a wicked way, this was more arousing to her than just the humiliation of her daughter. A mixture of wanting Stolas to fuck off, the risk and her need to suppress her own pleasure despite her self-fulfilling nature.
       So, when she finally heard the steps of her husband walking away from the scene, Stella allowed herself the perfect indulgence: squirting on Octavia’s face.
       As Via was unable to break away, she ended up not only taking some of her mother’s fluids to the face but also drinking part of it as her beak remained inside.
       And finally, both seemed to have finally reached their closure. With Octavia cuddling Stella’s leg, and her mother numbing her body down to let herself be dried by the heat of the flames.
       Eventually both went to bed to get whatever rest they could, if any. The next morning, they would deal with it however necessary. After all, it was almost time.
       
       ***
       
       —Ugh… —Both Octavia and Stella moaned in unison to the sight of breakfast—.
       They looked destroyed. Their feathers all over the place and bags under their eyes was just the tip of the iceberg as both tried to make sense of their surroundings.
       Fenir couldn’t help herself from wondering what could have happened to them last night.
       —Your Majesty… —The hellhound approached Stolas—. Did I miss something last night?
       —Your guess is as good as mine. —Stolas replied unbothered—.
       Not the answer she expected, but the one she had to go with. Paired with Stolas’ indifference, Fenir’s worries doubled in size just from thinking about it.
       Maybe if she asked the right question, she could find out.
       —So… uh… Via! —Fenir approached her—. You didn’t miss me, did you?
       Octavia couldn’t look at her, blushing as she crossed her legs.
       —Come on, Fenir. —The owl girl stuttered—. I always do…
       Octavia’s blush worsen. Her eyes glancing at Stella for fractions of a second before going rampant trying to find a different target.
       —Now, now. —Stolas interrupted—. More eating and less talking. We don’t want to be late do we? The All-Ring Pool Summit waits for no one.
       —Yes, your Majesty. —Fenir nodded—.
       The atmosphere was palpable, almost suffocating in its weight, and yet there was nothing she could do to dispel it. Every breath felt drawn out, every second stretched into something heavy and unspoken as breakfast followed its course. Silence clung like a second skin, and though no words passed between them, the air thrummed with suggestion, with the heat of thoughts better left unvoiced. The kind of tension that burned not on the surface but deep within, beneath the skin, a pressure that demanded release.
       
       Even as they got dressed, even as fabric slid across bare flesh and straps tightened into place, the tension refused to ease. If anything, it grew sharper by the minute, tightening its grip around them until every glance, every half-smile, every stolen moment of eye contact felt charged. It was an invisible rope drawing them closer together, knotting them in a shared awareness. The mundane act of preparing –pulling on clothes, adjusting a hem, fixing hair–was turned into a spectacle in Fenir’s mind.
       After all, as a hellhound; her sense of smell was impeccable.
       Even without explicit confirmation, she could guess an approximated truth dancing between mother and daughter.
       But regardless of what this truth was, she had to admit –Octavia was perfect. Absolutely flawless in the cruellest way possible. The bikini she wore framed her figure in a way that left no room for doubt or denial, as if it had been designed solely to mock restraint. Each curve was highlighted, each shadow sharpened, and it was impossible to look away. Fenir’s imagination wandered too easily, already skipping ahead to tearing at those threads, already envisioning the fabric giving way under impatient hands. The thought lingered, unbidden but irresistible, a silent confession carved into her every glance as her mind danced around the wildest ideas.
       And Stella… Stella never stayed behind. No, she carried herself like someone who knew the spotlight would follow her no matter what she chose to wear. She didn’t need finery to command attention; she could strip down to nothing and still exude authority, allure, and danger in the same breath. Her presence was a magnet, her posture a weapon, her smile a trap. It was impossible not to notice her, impossible not to acknowledge the deliberate way she demanded eyes upon her. And Fenir noticed, of course she noticed, how the simple act of Stella existing in that space sent ripples through her body.
       Memories of their encounter flooding her libido like a broken dam and what had started as worry and fear –what had begun as the gnawing ache of doubt in the pit of her stomach– was now warped, reshaped, and transformed. Excitement crept in slowly, like a flame coaxed to life from a dying ember, until it blazed into something brighter, something hotter. Lust settled in its place, heavy and undeniable, fed by glances and gestures that carried no innocence. Anticipation blossomed out of expectation, a coil of hunger winding tighter, making it nearly impossible to sit still or breathe evenly.
       This was Fenir’s first time attending the summit, after all, and perhaps that explained part of it. The sheer weight of tradition, the layers of history pressed against the grandeur of the moment, all of it combined to form an intoxicating cocktail. To sit among the Goetia, to see them not only as figures of power but as beings made of flesh, temptation, and sin –it was a revelation. If all the others were as brazen, as open, as dangerously forward as the two standing before her, then the possibilities were endless. Opportunities for indulgence did not merely linger on the horizon; they surged forward, promising to engulf her if she so much as extended her hand.
       The thought of restraint, of last night’s troubles, flickered faintly at the edge of her mind, but her body betrayed her instantly. No longer did Fenir care about the weight of the past, no longer did she fixate on what had been lost or what had been feared. Her body screamed louder than reason, a chorus of desire that drowned out guilt. What mattered was this moment, this electricity coursing through her veins, this one chance to surrender. It was, in every way, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to burn herself out completely, to knock herself out against the very edge of temptation, and she was all too eager to dive headfirst.
       She didn’t know it yet, although se was prepared for it –but the best was yet to come. As long as she could master herself and keep up; The All-Ring Pool Summit would prove itself to be the finest day of her life.
       Or the worst mistake of all time.
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