Legacy Bitch - Third Generation

Olive walks in on her mom & the family dogs. She soon discovers being a bitch runs in the family. Will 14yo Olive love the legacy as much as her momma?

Disclaimer: Welcome to a world where forbidden desire is the only rule. This story is part of a collection where all lines are meant to be crossed. If you keep reading, you're already on the other side.
Reader discretion is advised.
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This is potentially a new series.

The front door clicked shut, the sound unnaturally loud in the sudden stillness of the house. Olive had gotten a half-day, a surprise teacher workday, and all she’d been thinking about was the cold fizz of a soda and sinking into the couch for three hours of uninterrupted TV. But the TV was off, and the only sound was a rhythmic, wet slapping from the living room, a sound that didn't belong.
Curiosity, cold and sharp, cut through her teenage lethargy. She crept down the hall, her backpack slung over one shoulder, and peered around the corner.
The scene that hit her was a physical blow. It was a tableau of pure, raw filth, and her mother, Annabelle, was the centerpiece.
She was bent over the large leather ottoman, her perfect ass high in the air, her face turned to the side, eyes squeezed shut. Her mouth was a perfect 'O' of strained pleasure. Behind her, Brutus, their sleek Doberman, was locked onto her. His powerful haunches drove into her with a primal, relentless rhythm. Olive could see the base of his thick, red cock, the knot, buried deep inside her mom's stretched pussy. He wasn't just fucking her; he was owning her, his claws digging into the carpet for leverage as he hammered his bitch.
In front of her mom, Thunder, their massive German Shepherd, stood with his paws braced on the ottoman. His long, pointed cock was deep in Annabelle’s mouth. She was servicing him, her hands stroking his shaft as she worked her lips over the head. But Thunder wasn't passive. He was humping her face, his hips twitching, trying to fuck her mouth with the same brutal force Brutus was using on her other end. A thin line of drool mixed with pre-cum escaped the corner of her mom's lips.
Olive’s first reaction was a jolt of pure, electric shock. Her stomach turned, and a silent scream built in her throat. This was her mom. This was disgusting. Wrong.
But as she stood there, hidden in the shadow of the hallway, another feeling began to creep in, hot and insidious. A deep, pulsing throb started between her own legs. She was horrified, but she was also mesmerized. Her mom, the woman who lectured her about chores, was a primal creature, a bitch in heat being used by her pack. And Olive couldn't look away. She slowly, silently, set her backpack down, her eyes glued to the scene.
Brutus’s pace became frantic, a series of short, sharp jabs. A low growl rumbled in his chest as he emptied himself deep inside her mom. For a long moment, they stayed locked together, panting. Then, with a wet, sucking sound, Brutus’s knot popped free. A flood of milky canine cum gushed out of her mom’s gaping pussy, running down her thighs.
Annabelle didn’t miss a beat. She lifted her head from Thunder’s cock, gasping for air, and slapped her own ass hard. The sound was like a gunshot. A signal.
Thunder was on her in a flash. He mounted her back, his furry weight settling over her. Olive watched, her own breath held tight, as the dog humped blindly for a second before finding his target. With one powerful thrust, his cock buried itself to the hilt in her mom’s well-used pussy. Candice cried out, a sound of pure satisfaction. A moment later, his own knot began to swell, stretching her even wider.
And then he began to pound her. If Brutus was a piston, Thunder was a jackhammer. His thrusts were harder, faster, more demanding. The ottoman scraped across the floor with the force of his fucking. Annabelle’s body was just a toy for his pleasure, her breasts swaying with each brutal impact, her face a mask of ecstatic agony.
Olive’s hand had slipped inside her jeans without her even realizing it. Her fingers were slick with her own wetness, and she was rubbing her clit in time with the dog’s savage rhythm. The shock had curdled into a dark, thrilling lust. She was watching her mother get bred by their dogs, and it was the most intensely erotic thing she had ever seen. She leaned against the wall, her knees weak, her fingers working faster, lost in the forbidden spectacle.
When it was over, when the knots had receded and the dogs lay panting in the corner, Annabelle finally spoke, her voice calm and steady. She’d heard the door. She always heard the door.
“Honey, did you like what you saw?” She was busy with a paper kitchen towel, dabbing at the dog cum still pouring from her pussy. “Come out, sweetheart. I recognize the sound of your backpack slamming the table.”
“Mooom, the dogs? What about Dad?” Olive stepped out, fumbling with the button on her jeans. Her mind was a flurry of chaos.
“My little girl, I fuck the dogs because I love your dad,” Annabelle said, turning. Her body was glistening with sweat, and for the first time, Olive really saw her mother—not as Mom, but as a woman, naked and unashamed.
“What does that mean?” Olive said, with an aggrevated tone.
“Your dad’s gone too long. I get too horny to be alone. Him and I have talked about it, many times. But he still goes. It gives this family incredible financial security, yes. But it leaves me gagging for it.” She paused, her eyes searching her daughter’s. “I have been tempted so many times to be unfaithful, but I wouldn’t. I love your dad too much. But vibrators don’t cut it. So, our two loyal, protective boys… they have such sweet cocks.” Annabelle remembered her momma’s words, she continued, “That wasn’t cheating. They would never talk. And more importantly, they won’t get me pregnant.”
“The dogs?” Olive was working through it, but the logic was warped, alien.
“Honey, you’re at that age. You’re starting to crave that feeling… that fullness, aren’t you?” Annabelle’s gaze was piercing. She was right. Olive was starting to have those feelings. There were boys at school she thought about, but the stories… the horror stories of boys who couldn’t keep their mouths shut…
Annabelle saw the conflict in her daughter's eyes. “Think about it, sweetheart. They won’t brag to their friends. You can’t get pregnant. You always cum, and you cum hard. And they fuck hard, and it feels amazing… Your dad… he feels so much like them.”
“Mooom – ewww!” The dogs were one thing, but her dad? Even though she was a daddies girl, with her own repressed feelings from the time she’d accidentally seen his hard cock as he stepped out of the shower… she shook her head to clear the thought. But her mom was right about the rest.
“Do you remember when Thunder followed you into your room?” Annabelle pressed, her voice a conspiratorial whisper. “You were naked, just out of the shower. He licked your pussy. You moaned before you shouted at him.”
“How did you know?” Olive asked, her face burning.
“Wasn’t that an incredible feeling?” her mom’s eyes were caring, and devilish. There was a wicked smile playing on her lips.
“Yes… but I thought it was wrong!” Olive met her mom’s gaze. She was getting wet again, remembering that rough, insistent tongue.
“And many boys won’t go down on a girl, or they’re just crap at it,” Annabelle said, echoing the very conversations Olive had with her friends. “They don’t have the patience to make you cry and cum.”
Annabelle stood and walked to the kitchen, returning with a can of sweet-smelling whipped cream. “It’s not wrong if it’s just for pleasure, sweetheart. It’s just your body, enjoying a feeling.” She knelt before her daughter. “Let me show you. Let me give you what you were too scared to let him finish.”
Olive’s heart hammered. Every instinct screamed at her to run, but the ache between her legs and the dark, compelling curiosity rooted her to the spot. Her mom’s gaze was magnetic.
“Take off your clothes, honey,” Annabelle whispered. “Let’s not be shy with each other.”
With trembling fingers, Olive obeyed. She peeled off her clothes, her cheeks burning with a blush that was part shame, part arousal. She stood before her mother, naked and vulnerable.
Annabelle smiled, a proud, loving smile. She shook the can. With a giggle, she sprayed a delicate line of cold whipped cream right down the center of Olive’s slit. The cold made Olive gasp. “Lie back on the ottoman, sweetheart. Spread your legs for Thunder.”
Olive did as she was told. She lay back over the cool leather, her knees falling open. Thunder padded forward. His warm, rough tongue was on her. The sensation was electric. The rough texture scraped against her clit, sending jolts of pleasure so intense they were almost painful. He lapped at the cream, his tongue delving into her folds, and Olive’s hips bucked involuntarily.
“Oh god… Mom…” she moaned, her hands tangling in the dog’s fur.
“That’s it, baby girl,” Annabelle cooed, stroking her daughter’s hair. “Let him make you feel good. Don’t fight it.”
The pleasure built, a tight coil in her belly, winding tighter and tighter until it snapped. A wave of pure, unadulterated bliss washed over her, and she cried out, her body arching as her first real orgasm ripped through her. It was a thousand times better than when she touched herself. It was consuming.
As she lay panting, she looked at her mom through hazy eyes. “I want… I want to feel what you felt.”
Annabelle’s smile was triumphant. “I knew you would. Are you sure, honey? It’ll hurt at first.”
“I’m sure,” Olive whispered, her voice thick with desire. “I want to feel him inside me.”
Her mother helped her up, and they switched places. Olive positioned herself over the ottoman, her ass in the air, her heart pounding. Annabelle whistled. “Thunder, come.”
The German Shepherd mounted her instantly. His weight was heavy and reassuring on her back. She felt his claws dig into her sides, and then the frantic, searching heat of his cock. He missed once, twice, and then he found her entrance. With one swift, powerful thrust, he buried himself inside her.
A sharp, searing pain tore through her as her hymen broke. She cried out, her hands clenching into fists. But her mother was there, her voice a soothing balm. “Shhh, it’s okay, baby. The pain will pass. Just breathe.”
Thunder didn’t wait. He began to fuck her with the same relentless rhythm. The pain began to fade, replaced by a deep, stretching fullness that was rapidly transforming into a dark, incredible pleasure. She could feel his knot swelling, pressing against her, demanding entry. She pushed back, a guttural moan escaping her lips as it forced its way inside, locking them together.
The world dissolved into a haze of sensation. The slap of his haunches against her ass, the feeling of his hot cock pistoning inside her. And the sight of her mother, who had positioned herself right beside her, now on her hands and knees. Brutus, seeing his opportunity, mounted Annabelle with a growl.
Mother and daughter, side by side, both being taken. The sight sent Olive over the edge. Her body convulsed, her pussy clamping down on Thunder’s cock as a series of powerful, rolling orgasms crashed through her, one after the other, until she was a sobbing, quivering mess of pleasure.
Long moments later, Thunder’s knot shrank and he pulled free. Olive collapsed onto the ottoman, utterly spent. Brutus finished with Annabelle soon after, and she sank to the floor beside her daughter.
They lay there for a long time, the dogs cleaning themselves quietly in the corner. Annabelle reached out and stroked Olive’s sweat-dampened hair. “Are you okay, my sweet girl?”
Olive rolled over and cuddled into her mother’s side, her head on her chest. She felt safe, cherished, and utterly sated. “Yeah,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. “I’m more than okay.”
Olive was staring at the two dogs, who were now curled up and sleeping peacefully, with a completely different mindset than before. They weren't just pets anymore; they were confidants, protectors, and now, her initiators. For the first time, the sight of them didn't just make her wet; it made her feel safe. They were part of this. She was part of this.
“I’m surprised that neither of the boys has ever walked in on you,” she said, her voice still a little hoarse. After a moment, she looked up at her mom, who was gently stroking her hair. “Who… or both?” This was a detail she had to know.
A slow, knowing smile spread across Annabelle’s face. “Donnie. He walked in on me once.”
When Olive turned to her mom, the smile was still there, full of wicked memory. “What happened?” she asked. Her brother wasn’t the most secretive of guys; he would have told Dad. But Dad would blow up, wouldn’t he?
“I gave him something every teen boy wishes he had…” Annabelle said, her eyes locking with her daughter’s, sparkling with mischief. “A MILF to fuck.”
The hammer dropped.
“Mom, you fucked Donnie? My brother?” This day was a cascade of shocks. “You slept with your own son?”
“It bought his silence,” Annabelle said, her tone completely matter-of-fact. “And Dad didn’t find out about me and the dogs.” Olive’s brain short-circuited. The logic was so twisted, so pragmatically evil, that it shorted out her ability to be horrified. She could see her mom wasn’t fazed by it at all. It was just a transaction. A solution.
As she stared, trying to process it, her eyes really took in her mother’s naked form for the first time. Annabelle was in her late thirties, but her body was that of a woman in her prime. Her breasts were full and sat high, the nipples a dusky rose from recent arousal. Her stomach was flat, and her skin had a healthy, sun-kissed glow that Olive had always admired. But now, her gaze was drawn lower, to the place between her mother’s thighs. A thin, milky sheen of canine cum still coated her pussy lips, a glistening testament to the raw act Olive had just witnessed. The sight sent a fresh, powerful jolt of lust straight to her own core, making her impossibly wet.
Her mom shocked her even further. She leaned in, her face close, and kissed her. Soft and sweet at first. Olive froze, her breath catching in her throat. Then she felt the soft hands on her face, and a tongue pressing gently on her lips. Olive surrendered to the pressure, and mother and daughter kissed, a deep, passionate exploration that sealed their shared secrets.
When they finally broke apart, Annabelle’s eyes roamed over her daughter’s naked body. Olive was fifteen, a perfect blend of girl and woman. Her blonde hair fell in a tangled mess around her shoulders, and her family’s tendency to tan well had given her skin a golden hue that made her seem to glow. Her breasts were smaller than her mother’s, but perfectly shaped, with small, pale pink nipples that were still hard and peaked from her recent orgasm. Her waist nipped in, flaring out to gently rounded hips and the neat, blonde-furred mound of her own pussy, which was slick and swollen with desire.
“He’s your father’s son, for sure,” Annabelle whispered against her lips, a wicked glint in her eye. She pulled back just enough to speak, her gaze flicking towards the hallway. “And Thunder had finally pulled out… I told him to get naked and take his place.”

I would love to hear from any reader. In the comments section or email, who was introduced to dog / animal love from a parent, or family member. [email protected]

Legacy Bitch - 1
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My world is built on shared desires and whispered sins. Now, I invite you to add to the silence. Leave a comment with your thoughts on the story, or offer something more forbidden: a true experience. Let me weave it into the life of a character, giving your secret a new voice.