Midnight Snacks for the Corleon Family

by OttersInTrousers

written as a commission for Arikado

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starring Ivy Corleon and her daughters, Heather and Violet, all cats.

Contains herm/herm and female/herm incest & somnophilia!

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3:48AM. The Corleon house is dark and quiet, its residents all asleep—except one. Feline eyes snap open and peer into the darkness. 

Ivy is horny.

She stretches in her bed, curling her spine backwards until her body forms a C shape, before rolling over and curling back up. She would love to get back to sleep, but she just woke prematurely from an incredible sex dream, and it's left her needy. She can't even remember what it was about!

With a sigh, Ivy slips from her bed to stand. Ivy Corleon is a thirty year old cat, tall and wiry, with a black and white “tuxedo” coat, on full display since she sleeps nude. Her breasts are small—well balanced for her slender, lithe frame—with three more pairs of vestigial nipples running down her belly. Standing by her bed, she reaches down to scratch at the back of her balls, where her feminine arousal has left the fur of her scrotum uncomfortably damp. She's a hermaphrodite—gifted with both masculine and feminine genitals, all fully functional.

Ivy's ears prick up and hone in on the rustling sound of sheets as her younger daughter, Heather, rolls over in her sleep in the adjacent bedroom. Quiet snores resume. Her tail flicks.

On silent paws, she pads across her darkened room to the door and then lets herself into the hall. Across from Heather's room is the bedroom of her older sister, Violet. She, too, is asleep. Perfect.

Ivy slinks over to Heather's door, and with practiced ease she lets herself into the kitten's bedroom. She has to fight the urge to coo and purr at the sight that greets her.

Heather, Ivy's eight-year-old daughter, is a true cat at heart—able and willing to sleep anywhere in any position. In her sleep, Heather has kicked away the sheets and turned fully around in bed, splayed out—an arm hanging from the foot of the bed, one leg over the side. Her shuffling around has also had the effect of freeing one of her arms from the strap of her camisole and pushing the hem far up her belly—highlighting that she's sleeping bottomless. 

Like her mother, her coat is black and white, but Heather's fur is predominately white—her black fur is only really along her back, from her ears down the back of her skull, down her neck and back to her hips and tail. And also like her mother, Heather is a herm, small scrotum partially concealing the damp slit of her vagina from her mother's roaming eyes. Ivy's cock throbs.

A couple months ago, Ivy let herself into Heather's room one night to check on her, and found the kitten in a very similar position to this one, splayed out on her back, bottomless, with her little kitty cock throbbing in the open—it awakened something in Ivy, a hunger, a new way of loving her daughter. Since then, Ivy has lost count of the number of times she's gotten off to the sight of her. The feel of her.

The way Heather is lying, it's easy for Ivy to climb onto the bed and position herself right between the kitten's thighs, hovering over her. Ivy's first order of business is to lift her kitten's top just that little bit further to fully expose her chest—all eight nipples now visible, exposed to the cool night air, hardening. She leans down and places a quick kiss to both of Heather's top-most nipples, then latches onto one to suck more forcefully. She pulls away with a quiet pop, smirking, and looks down Heather's body.

Sure enough, already Heather's little penis is hardening, peeking from her sheath.

Crouching lower down, Ivy nestles the tip of her penis in behind Heather's balls, against her vulva, sliding it up and down the length of her lips. It would be so easy to just slip it in—the kitten's already wet, there would be little resistance. How Ivy yearns to feel her own kitten's vagina stretched out around her tapered cock, tip plumbing her deepest reaches. Unfortunately, the soft barbs along her shaft would make it impossible to do that without waking her—and where's the fun in that? 

Ivy rolls her hips, entire cock length tracing along Heather's labia and then up over her fuzzy balls. She stops when her own balls sit atop Heather's—bigger, heavier than the kitten's. Ivy's cock dwarfs her kitten's like this, too, with the bases lined up. She easily has twice the length and girth of Heather, shaft looming over the kitten's tummy. Placing her left hand by Heather's head to hold herself up, Ivy uses her right hand to loosely grip both their shafts together. She slides her hand up their joined cocks, then slowly back down.

Every few strokes of her hand, Ivy rolls her hips, humping her entire length against her palm and the kitten's much smaller cock. It's electric, the pleasure of this naughty secret. Every time she does this, she renews her wish to someday go all the way with her kitten—or both of them. Violet's already ten, after all.

But for now, she contents herself with frotting against Heather's little penis. She pulls her hand away briefly to dip a finger into her kitten's pussy, then brings it back to get a taste of her arousal—mildly sweet and tangy.

The taste drives Ivy further—she needs to cum, soon. And she's fast approaching it. She pulls her licked-clean fingers from her mouth and returns to toying with her kitten's little nipples—tweaking, pinching. She quickens her humping against Heather's little penis. Nearing her peak, she leans down and forward, resting her breasts on her kitten's flat chest, nipples grazing one another on the occasional stroke, and begins grooming her. Careful, delicate licks and kisses to the top and sides of Heather's head and muzzle.

As she tumbles into climax, Ivy pulls back, takes her shaft fully into her own hand, and rapidly jerks off. Breath coming ragged, she aims her tip right by Heather's, and lets go with a long sigh. Her balls clench up in time for the first gout of cum to spurt from her tip and into the soft fur of her kitten's lower belly. Over and over, she gives little unconscious rolls of her hips as she spends herself, until a puddle of cum is left cooling in Heather's fur.

When she catches her breath, Ivy pulls back to admire her handiwork—sure enough, it looks like Heather had a wet dream and came on herself, just like she hoped. Relieved of her sexual frustration, softening cock returning to its sheath, Ivy places a kiss to Heather's forehead, then retreats, quietly closing the door behind herself.

She's asleep the second her head hits her pillow.

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Not even ten minutes later, Heather's door opens again. This time, the visitor is much smaller—Heather's ten-year-old sister, Violet. 

Unlike her mother and sister, Violet stays dressed when she sleeps, currently wearing a tee-shirt and shorts. She's also strictly female—not a herm like Ivy and Heather. Violet's coat, unlike the tuxedo of her mother or the mask-and-mantle of her sister, is tortoiseshell—black and orange patches of various sizes and shapes, and no white.

Violet creeps over to her little sister's bed, already licking her lips in anticipation of her late-night snack. A few months ago, independent of her mother's own discovery, Violet snuck into Heather's room one night to find Heather's tantalizing little erection, and in doing so began her own budding sexuality. Since then, she has paid countless visits to Heather's room, to drink her little sister's cum straight from the source while touching herself.

Tonight, though, it seems to Violet that Heather got off in her sleep—cum is puddled on her belly by her still-erect penis, still warm. Obviously, she can't just leave it to cool and soak into Heather's fur—that would be such a gross mess! With a smile, she sets to it.

Careful to avoid being too enthusiastic and risk waking Heather, Violet runs her rough tongue along her eight-year-old little sister's tummy. She laps up the mess eagerly, enjoying the taste of it, the thickness of it, how much there is—because there's so much more than usual! Usually, it's just a couple quick little squirts, but this is a lot.

When she finishes, she uses her fingers to smooth out the mussed fur, but then her fingers brush against Heather's little penis—still hard. That doesn't really make sense to Violet. How is she still hard, after she already came? But Violet won't question this blessing—she much prefers drinking it straight from the tap anyway, and she can touch herself while sucking off her little sister! That's one of her favorite things!

Violet leans in, placing a quick kiss to the tip of her little sister's little penis, then slides her lips down over it. As she slowly works her maw up and down Heather's shaft, she busies her hands with other business. Her left she passes up and down the soft white fur of Heather's exposed belly, pawpads brushing over—and fingers sometimes tweaking—little teats. Her right she slips down her own body, below the waistband of her sleep shorts, to find her pussy, slowly stroking up and down her lips. It's already wet with anticipation and excitement, making it easy to hook a fingertip into her vagina.

Her pussy clenches around her finger as she slips it in, already soaked with arousal just from the naughty excitement. Thumb working at her clitoris, she grunts softly, legs twitching and occasionally humping into her own hand.

Violet slurps as she bobs her head up and down her little sister's throbbing little cock, humming in approval and pleasure as she feels Heather nearing her peak. It jerks in her mouth—once, twice—then squirts onto her tongue. She discovers that the cum on Heather's belly really did taste different—it was thicker, and stronger, and a little saltier, while this is thinner and more like Heather's usual. 

Her own fingers work feverishly to rub herself to her own orgasm, and she buries her nose in her little sister's crotch—taking the full length of her cock into her mouth in the process—to help muffle her grunts and moans of release.

When she finishes riding out her climax, Violet pulls back. Heather's little cock is already becoming flaccid, retreating into its sheath with a sheen of Violet's saliva. And Heather's face is adorable—she looks so happy. The crotch of Violet's shorts is soaked through. She'll have to change once she gets back to her room, no way she can sleep feeling like this.

For now, though, Violet just smooths her fingers through her sister's exposed belly fur, kisses her cheek, then slides from the bed to slink away into the darkness.

Awakening to the quiet click of her door closing, Heather hums a sigh, wriggling against her bed and basking in the tingling bliss coursing through her body. Contentment radiates through her and out with her purr as she stretches out, rolls over, and curls up to go right back to sleep.

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Ivy hums along to the radio playing quietly on the corner of the kitchen table, hips swaying and tail swishing as she finishes plating breakfast. She loves cooking, and especially loves cooking for her kittens. This morning, she's gone all out—waffles, scrambled eggs, and bacon all plated up and waiting for the arrival of Violet and Heather.

When the kittens arrive, both are still bleary-eyed with sleep—Heather clinging to the sleeve of her older sister's shirt with one hand and rubbing at her eyes with the other. Ivy glances down, and can't help her chuckle.

“Heather, sweet, how do you keep forgetting to put some bottoms on when you wake up?” She watches the younger kitten take a moment to process her mom's words, then look down at herself. She is precious standing there in just her camisole, little pouch hanging out for all to see. Beside her, Violet goes stiff, now suddenly aware of her little sister's nudity, too. 

“'m sorry, mom,” Heather mumbles in her sleepy voice.

“It's okay, kitten, just come give me a hug and eat, then you can go put something on.”

Ivy reaches out, and both kittens press against her for her to wrap up in a hug. She squeezes them once, then lets them go and ushers them to their seats and their waiting breakfasts. Immediately, Heather goes for her bacon with a cheer.

“You made mine chewy!”

“Of course I did!” She leans in to nuzzle the little tuft of black fur at the top of her head between her ears. In a sweeter voice, she continues. “I know that's how you like it.”

Ivy takes her own seat, tops her waffle with a bit of strawberry jam, then adds a drizzle of syrup to both her waffle and eggs. Between bites, she glances up to find Violet has already slowed down, now only nibbling at a half-finished slice of bacon—extra crispy, just like Ivy.

“Are you okay, Vi? You haven't eaten much.”

Violet blinks a couple times, then looks up to make eye contact with her mom. She blushes, averting her eyes and pinning her ears back, and shifts around in her chair—crossing her legs under the table.

“Yeah, I'm okay mom. Just not hungry.”

“Goodness. Maybe you had too much of a snack last night?”

Her ears stand at attention, blush growing incandescent, and her eyes flick to her younger sister and back.

“Uh, yeah, that must be it!”

Ivy is unconvinced, but doesn't really have any reason to be suspicious of anything, so she drops it with a smile and a shake of her head. 

Meanwhile, the black and white kitten is in her own little world, tail happily curling and uncurling as she devours her own meal. Around a mouthful of half-chewed food, she mentions, almost as if to herself.

“I had some weird dreams last night!”

Ivy turns her attention from one daughter to the other.

“Oh? What were they about?”

Heather tilts her head to the side in thought.

“I don't really remember? But they were weird. I woke up feeling real good after one.”

Ivy blinks. Surely not—right?

“Oh, well then hopefully you'll have dreams like that again, if it made you feel so good.”

“Yeah! And maybe I'll remember next time.”