PAH! PAH! PAAAH!

"AAANGHH~!! HIIEEK~!! ’MOTHER STOP’~!! OUNGH~!!"

Vivienne’s hands swung Jenny’s hips.

Actively.

Her own daughter’s thick ass in her palms, rocking it forward and back, setting the pace herself, driving Jenny onto his cock in smooth, rhythmic arcs while Cruxius held the weight.

The combination was different from his hands alone — more deliberate, angled, Vivienne reading her own daughter’s body with a mother’s knowledge of its architecture and directing each thrust to the point that would be most effective.

"’PLEASE’—" Jenny’s voice broke entirely. "Mother—I’m going to—I’m losing—I can’t—"

PAH! PAH! PAH! PAH!

"AAANGHH~!! HIIEEK~!! OUNGH~!! ’STOP’~!!"

Vivienne leaned forward.

Her mouth found the base of Jenny’s neck.

She bit — not with canines, just teeth, human and firm — and sucked the skin there while her hands kept the rhythm, kept swinging her daughter’s hips, kept driving Jenny down onto his cock with the patient, methodical intention of a woman completing a task.

Jenny’s hands loosened from his head.

Her arms fell.

PAH! PAAAH!

"Aahhh~!! Hnn~!! ’Please’~..."

Her voice had gone small.

"Please... Mother... I’m going to..."

PAH!

"AAANGHH~!!"

And then there was nothing left of Jenny’s higher cognition.

The white that had been at the edges of her vision moved inward from all sides simultaneously, everything narrowing down to the cock buried in her and her mother’s hands on her hips and the warmth from the bites still spreading outward from her chest.

She squirted hard.

Not a gush — a sustained, forceful spray, completely beyond her control, her body expelling everything it had left in one prolonged, shaking release that soaked Vivienne’s forearms and ran down both of them and pooled on the tile in a spreading, warm circle.

Jenny’s body went completely limp.

She didn’t fall.

Not immediately.

Cruxius held her upright for the final moment, his cock still buried, his body going still as his hips pressed forward in one last, grinding push — and emptied.

Deep. Hot. Completely.

The pulse of it registered even through her unconscious body, her anal walls clenching weakly around him on pure reflex as his seed filled her in thick, continuous pulses, her body accepting it without any remaining will to resist.

Vivienne’s hands stayed on Jenny’s hips until he was done.

Then she let go.

Her palms moved.

Down to the base of his cock as he withdrew slowly, her fingers wrapping the shaft, milking the last of it deliberately forward and in.

Making sure nothing was wasted.

Her mouth dropped.

She leaned in against her daughter’s slack body and her tongue found the overflow, the mix of his seed and Jenny’s cunt and the long night running out of her daughter’s body, and she took it with the calm, thorough efficiency of something that had been repurposed.

"It seems, Master," she said quietly between strokes of her tongue, "Jenny was not able to handle you."

Her red eyes lifted to his face.

"Should we go for another round?"

He looked at her.

Then at Jenny, utterly unconscious, held upright only by the combination of his grip and Vivienne’s shoulder against her side.

He let Jenny go.

Vivienne caught her daughter’s weight and guided her down, and both of them hit the bathroom tile together — Vivienne’s back against the cool porcelain base of the tub, Jenny’s limp body falling across her, unconscious face against her mother’s chest, both sets of breasts bearing his tooth marks, both women leaking his seed onto the tile.

He stood over them.

His cock was soft now.

For the first time all night.

He looked at the two of them — mother and daughter, Vivienne’s red eyes looking up at him from below her unconscious daughter’s weight, both bodies marked and used and his.

He breathed.

Once.

Leaned down.

Gathered Jenny’s limp form onto his left shoulder and Vivienne’s pliant body onto his right, lifting both simultaneously, their soft weight distributed across him.

Both women’s heads fell against his chest.

He stood straight.

"I’m going to sleep."

Vivienne’s eyes closed.

"Thank you," she said softly, "for your mercy on this old body, Master."

He carried them both out of the bathroom.

In the hallway, before the bedroom door, he stopped.

The dark of the early hours around him. Both women breathing softly against his shoulders. Both bearing his marks.

His eyes were on the far wall but not seeing it.

"Thalia."

He said it to no one.

"This is entirely your fault."

A pause.

"I’m going to fuck your anal for this."

He walked into the bedroom and put them both down.

## 8:00 AM — The Sedan

The highway was empty at this hour.

The grey morning light sat flat and unhurried on the asphalt, and the sedan moved through it at a steady eighty, windows slightly fogged from the temperature difference between the warming cabin and the cool outside.

Jenny drove.

Both hands on the wheel, eyes forward, jaw set with the particular expression of a woman who has decided that focusing on the road is the only available coping mechanism for what is happening in the back seat directly behind her.

Her foot on the accelerator was steady.

Her other hand on the gear shift.

Both of them wet, for reasons she was not going to address out loud.

The back seat.

Vivienne’s skirt was hiked to her waist.

She was seated in his lap — facing forward, spine against his chest, both his hands at her hips — and his cock was fully buried in her anal through the fabric gap, the skirt doing nothing except existing as a formality that satisfied no one.

Every time the car hit a road imperfection and bounced, her full, heavy body absorbed it and transferred it downward.

He did nothing else.

He simply held position and let the highway do the work, the sedan’s suspension conducting the rhythm that he was happy to receive.

PAH!

The car hit a raised joint in the road.

"AAHHH~!! HIIEEK~!!"

Vivienne’s hands grabbed the back of the driver’s seat headrest in front of her.

Her knuckles whitened around the fabric.

His hands moved up.

Found her nipple rings through the blouse fabric, two fingers each hooked through them, and pulled outward simultaneously.

"AAANGHH~!! OUNGH~!! ’Stop’—those are still ’raw’—"

"Shut up, Jenny."

Vivienne’s voice came out broken between the road bumps.

"You don’t know." PAH! "HIIEEK~!!" "You would never—OUNGH~!!—know how this feels."

"I absolutely know how it feels," Jenny said flatly at the windscreen. "I spent the last twelve hours learning exactly how it feels."

"This is different."

"How."

Vivienne’s head dropped back against his shoulder, spine arching, his rings pulling her nipples forward while the road kept its rhythm.

"It’s—AAHHH~!!—just ’different’—"

PAH! PAH!

"HIIEEK~!! OUNGH~!! ’PLEASE’—"

Jenny’s eyes went to the rearview mirror.

She kept them on the road two seconds.

Then back to the mirror.

Her mother’s face over her shoulder — flushed, wet, mouth open, head lolled back against his neck — and him behind her, perfectly composed, chin slightly lowered, watching the back of Jenny’s head in the mirror.

Jenny’s eyes met his in the reflection.

She looked back at the road.

Her hand tightened on the gear shift.

’Don’t.’ ’You are driving.’ ’Eyes on the road.’ ’Do not think about his hands.’

PAH! PAAAH!

"AAANGHH~!! HIIEEK~!! ’CRUXIUS’~!!"

The rings stretched taut as the car hit another bump, Vivienne’s body bouncing in his lap, his cock buried further by the impact and the pull of the rings holding her in place simultaneously.

Her breasts swung inside the blouse.

The heavy weight of them straining the fabric, the rings visible as two slight outward pulls in the cotton.

His voice came low from the back seat.

"I’m coming."

Vivienne’s breath caught.

"I—" Her hips rolled forward on the next bump. "I—too—I’m also—’please’—AAAHH~!!"

The car hit a bridge expansion joint.

PAH! PAAAH!

"AAANGHH~!! ’MASTER’~!! HIIEEK~!! OUNGH~!!"

Her thighs snapped together over his.

Her back arched so hard the top of her head pressed back into the headrest above his shoulder.

And she squirted.

Not a trickle.

Not a gush.

A sharp, pressurised spray — the kind that comes from a body that has spent twelve hours being taken apart and put back together and has absolutely no remaining mechanism for controlled response — that crossed the distance between the back seat and the front in a single, flat arc.

Jenny’s right hand on the gear shift.

Soaked.

Her left hand on the wheel, wrist upward.

Soaked.

The spray ran off the gear shift and hit the console and ran down.

Jenny said nothing for two full seconds.

She looked at her hand.

She looked at the road.

"Mother."

"I’m—AAHHH~!! OUNGH~!!—I’m sorry—I can’t—HIIEEK~!!"

His cock emptied at the same moment.

Deep in Vivienne’s anal, the pulses registering through her already-clenching walls in long, hot bursts while his rings kept her pinned forward and down and unable to pull away even if she had wanted to.

Her body kept squirting through his finish.

Two separate things happening at once in the back seat, her cunt and his cock, running together and dripping off the seat onto the floor mat below.

His head dropped forward.

His jaw shifted.

The canines came out.

His mouth found the curve between Vivienne’s neck and her shoulder, and he bit.

Vivienne’s voice went to a different register.

"AAAAHHH~!! ’MASTER’~!!"

Not pain this time. Or not only pain. The aphrodisiac in his bite moving immediately into the fresh bloodstream, the warmth spreading from the bite point upward through her neck and jaw and downward through her chest and spine, her red eyes going darker, pupils expanding, a second orgasm chasing the first before the first had finished.

She sagged against him.

Still leaking.

Both holes.

His seed running out of her anal down the seat.

Her squirt still dripping off the gear shift in front.

He lifted his mouth from her neck.

Looked forward.

At Jenny’s eyes in the rearview mirror.

"You know what needs to happen."

His voice was the same as it always was.

Even. Unhurried.

"After we arrive."

Jenny looked at the road.

Her wet hand on the gear shift.

She thought about saying something.

Several things, in order: ’I don’t, and that’s not my decision, and you cannot be serious, and I am not my mother.’

She said none of them.

The morning light sat flat on the highway ahead.

Her mother was still twitching in the back seat, both eyes red, body slack, leaking the evidence of the last thirty minutes onto the upholstery.

Jenny’s own eyes had gone red sometime in the last ten seconds.

She hadn’t noticed when.

A pause.

Vivienne breathed against his chest.

Jenny’s hand tightened on the wet gear shift.

"I know, Master."