Chapter Text
It was the waiting, always the waiting, that was the worst part. But that made it the best part, one of the many paradoxes of her particular fetish. Right now, Pyrrha was waiting at home, waiting for her husband, who was out and she had no idea where… or with whom.
A glance to the wall clock told her it was nearly two in the morning. He wasn’t usually this late, but maybe this girl was special. Someone he’d leave his wife staying up all night for… maybe he’d even spend the night with her, leaving Pyrrha staying up in vain, pathetically staring out the window!
She was a fox Faunus, not a dog, and yet, she couldn’t stop her tail from wagging. She was a dirty, loyal bitch, a domesticated dog that loved her owner no matter what he put her through… Ohhh, and he was putting her through a lot tonight! Her fingers traced towards her pussy as it pulsed with dark and slutty need, but she knew it wouldn’t do for her dear husband to come home to a wife fingering herself like a shameless whore…
Pyrrha had dressed up for this. She was wearing a red and white polka dot dress with her nice heels and even had her pearls on. She looked so much like the ideal housewife, just like she was the ideal to millions of adoring fans, staying up late, fretting for her husband’s return. It was just so… pathetic. Laughable. A dumb bitch who couldn’t keep her husband’s interest and just had to sit in the living room, endlessly waiting to find out if tonight was the night he- nggggh- f-found someone- someone better than-
She saw movement! Like a dog she raced to the door, eager to see her husband turn the handle and open it. Pyrrha lit up, but Jaune barely even looked at her as he came in and took off his coat. She knew not to ask where he’d been—what sort of wife would have such little faith in her beloved husband?—as he staggered into the house so late at night.
It had taken a while to teach Jaune that she wanted him to treat her with disdain like this. To leave her so… utterly neglected. But now the payoff was… it was magnificent. He merely grunted a word of acknowledgement to her as he headed to the bedroom. She helped her exhausted husband out of his clothes, guided him into their bed—their marital bed—and he went straight to falling asleep, without even a kiss for her.
Pyrrha couldn’t get enough of- of her inferiority! It was the biggest turn on she could imagine, to know her husband had been out with another woman, a woman he was (she could pretend) surely thinking of instead of her as he fell asleep. She didn’t even get to learn which girl it was; she had to find out herself!
As a Faunus, Pyrrha had a gift for figuring out who had stolen her husband’s heart, and as he slept, she moved into bed next to him and gently removed his blanket, revealing his… his body to her, the body of her husband, and, placing her head close to his chest, his muscles rippling like the Adonis he was, she inhaled.
Gods! The stink of sex and sweat, spent cum and juices flooded her nostrils and Pyrrha’s mind went into an overdrive of arousal! There was nothing like it, and if she were a dirtier bitch, she’d have licked his chest clean to get all of that dirty, filthy scent, all the proof of his naked infidelity inside of her. But she was the prim and proper wifey, a woman who had to behave with restraint, even as her marriage crumbled before her very eyes, smelling the girls who were stealing him from her, but powerless to do anything. As her mind rolled, she began to sort out the different elements and start trying to name which of their sexy friends had her husband fucked into a coma this night?
There were many familiar scents Pyrrha knew to expect. Jaune was… quite a desirable man, as Pyrrha knew, and he had quite the stable of paramours, each and every one a unique threat to Pyrrha’s marriage. And Team RWBY were particularly aggressive vixens, giving Pyrrha ample opportunities to recognize their scent on her husband’s body. Weiss’s expensive perfume, always intoxicating, the mixture of fruit and flower and spice finely crafted to drive a man—or his cuckquean wife—wild with desire, was always a treat. Or Yang’s sweat, the pungent, salty tang a reminder of the sheer vigor with which those two went at it. Yang was the only one who could match Pyrrha for raw, physical enthusiasm in the bedroom, an act that invariably left both parties sweaty, exhausted messes. Blake had a unique scent compared to the other girls, being a fellow Faunus, her musk was a mark that claimed Jaune as her mate, a warning for other women to stay away (gods she loved that sexy kitty). And Ruby smelled of a bouquet of roses—her scent always conjured wild images of romance in Pyrrha’s mind, perfectly picturing her husband madly, truly in love with the darling girl, taking her in a swirl of rose petals.
But this scent… wasn’t one of the RWBY girls. A shame—Pyrrha had spent the whole night eagerly imagining Ruby’s arms and legs wrapped around her heroic knight or Blake’s delicious submission to her human Master—but also an exciting little game. Who was Pyrrha comparing herself against now? What true flower of womanhood was shaming and humiliating Jaune’s pathetic excuse for a wife tonight?
It wasn’t Nora—she didn’t even need scent to tell that, the sheer static electricity that’d make the hair on her tail stand on end would tell her if Nora had cummed herself silly on her husband’s dick. Nor was it any of the other girls on their regular rotation. A night with Glynda left the scent of fresh ink and white out, which you’d expect as he took her on the Headmistress’s own desk, mixed with the spark of spent dust. Velvet’s scent was like the dew after a spring rain—and a healthy dose of bunny pheromones, a scent that screamed, “I’m a ripe, fertile female who needs a good dicking.” Plus, Velvet was a sweetie who sent Pyrrha photos after Jaune was finished plowing her. Neo was always obvious in her scent’s sharp contrast—the sugary scent of ice cream and waffle cones cut with the iron of spilt blood… sometimes Jaune’s. Cinder had the acrid hint of smoke to her and, wonderful girl that she was, she always twisted the knife by wearing Eau de Fille Invincible, Pyrrha’s own licensed perfume, as she stole Jaune away from her.
But it wasn’t any of them. Pyrrha tried to think of the rarer girls, the ones from far away, who only came into Vale for special occasions. May always smelled like the desert, the coarseness of fine-grained sand, baked under the sun, always left lingering on Jaune after he slept with her. Ilia’s scent was also earthy, and always mixed with Blake’s. Penny’s scent was often changing—her body produced no natural scent, so she experimented with various perfumes, but she liked simple, floral smells. Winter’s scent was like Weiss’s, but more subdued, and a visit from Mrs. Schnee always meant that Pyrrha could smell the liquor on Jaune’s breath from body shots.
Maybe… maybe Reese? No, her scent was very distinct, not only because she always gave Jaune a workout like Yang, and the thrillseeker that she was, Pyrrha swore she could smell the adrenaline on her husband after a night with the tomboyish skater. Specialists like Harrier and Elm had a similar scent, mingled with their freshly-pressed uniforms. Just like Ciel—though the prim and proper girl also had a secret obsession with anal that Pyrrha never missed—so it wasn’t any of those girls. Gods, though thinking about Jaune with those disciplined Atlesians, turning them into disheveled messes… it was such a turn on!
She took another deep sniff, lower this time, hovering over her husband’s boxers and letting the scent fill her nostrils and soak her panties. It was so incredibly familiar that Pyrrha was shocked she couldn’t place it! It made her think of… schoolgirl crushes, of being a kit back at Sanctum and discovering that, even as she became the most excellent of fighters, she craved to be made weak, to be humiliated by someone stronger than her.
Was it Arslan? No, it was definitely another Faunus, and a mammal at that. Jaune reeked of naked and shameless arousal—whoever it was, Jaune had given her the best night of her life! Which made Pyrrha ache with delicious jealousy, picturing this woman, with her faint scent of cinnamon, her fur matted with sweat, writhing on her husband’s cock as he gave her an orgasm she’d been longing for, for years, it seemed! Pyrrha hadn’t even realized she’d pulled her husband’s boxers down, but the scent had become so much stronger for it, the scent of this mystery woman and the tang of her dried arousal, that Pyrrha was drooling now.
She wondered if it might be Fiona, the shy little sheep revealing a secretly impure side to her husband, letting him run his fingers through her curly white hair as she choked on his cock, but as she ran her nose along his shaft and inhaled the taste of her inadequacy and perversion, Pyrrha knew it wasn’t Fiona. She always had such a… a fresh and downy scent like laundry from the dryer. No, it wasn’t her, and Pyrrha was finding herself so- so turned on by her lamentation that Jaune’s infidelities so eclipsed her!
What- what girls were left? Jaune had never had sex with Neon (to her knowledge—the thought of a secret relationship hidden behind even their little games made Pyrrha squirm ) and Kali had jokingly offered once, but retracted it when Pyrrha had risen to it. She had too firm a commitment to her husband to fool around. Coco wasn’t interested in men, but Iilia had said the same until Jaune had tamed her in a threesome with Blake. But Coco’s scent was always distinct, with her artfully chosen perfumes. Maybe… maybe Yang’s mother? She had an odd scent whenever she turned from human to bird and back—but no, this was definitely a mammal, and more so, it was someone Pyrrha definitely knew!
Oh, the frustration was so… incredible… Jaune was cheating on her, behind her back, and Pyrrha didn’t even know who it was!
She couldn’t control herself any longer. Jaune had so utterly unmade her, had broken her down to her pathetic little cuckquean slut self and she couldn’t keep up the facade of the dutiful housewife any more! She buried her face in her husband’s pubes, still matted with the other woman’s juices and just inhaled. What a dirty bitch she was, her fingers plunging into her soaked pussy as she took in her husband’s cock-musk, made filthy by another woman! A g-good wife would clean up the mess, she thought with a mad giggle, her lips wrapping around his tool, tasting the mystery woman he’d claimed as she sucked his cock with mad devotion.
Jaune groaned. Pyrrha knew- knew even if Jaune told her it wasn’t true! But she knew that she was a weak and untalented girl who could never satisfy him! She belonged- oh- s-she d-didn’t even deserve to share a bed with him! She should sleep on the floor, like a dog, because that’s all a dirty bitch like her brought to her marriage! That was- that was why he went to other women! Because she wasn’t- she wasn’t-
SHE WASN’T ENOUGH!
Her pussy clenched around her fingers as she exploded into her first climax, but Jaune’s cock was barely even actually hard as it plunged down her throat! She bobbed with wild intensity, she needed to make his dirty cock clean like a good housewife-slut, so that maybe he’d find her useful enough to not throw out on the-
Jaune erupted in her mouth out of nowhere, shooting thick ropes of cum right down her throat and into her belly. Pyrrha moaned in pleasure, her thighs quivering from how much she loved being used like that… but with a few reservations. Slowly pulling off his dick with a messy pop, Pyrrha looked up to see that Jaune was awake, with a sheepish smile on his face.
“Sorry,” he groaned, “I tried to, ohhhhhh, hold back, but you’re so fucking good at this, Pyr…”
Well, okay, maybe she’d been a little lost in her fantasy in the moment, and that, in getting off on her “sexual inadequacy,” she’d instead delivered a passionate blowjob that Jaune was actually powerless to resist, but she’d let it slide. Taking a moment to make sure she’d swallowed all of his cum, she curled up next to him in bed and let them both drift off to a very satisfied sleep.
She awoke the next morning to another familiar scent: breakfast. Bacon sizzling in the pan, the smell of eggs and hashbrowns, and, of course, the warm, earthy, and slightly acidic scent of fresh brewed coffee. And the sounds of a dutiful, loving husband, puttering around and putting breakfast in bed together for… for his wife.
He did this after every one of his dalliances—he was a sweet boy at heart, and though he’d come around to his wife’s kinks, he always felt the need to do something to “even the score” and show Pyrrha that she was always the first in his heart. The women he came home to after the flings.
Not that she’d ever turn down breakfast in bed, but it did cut into the fantasy a little.
Still, Pyrrha loved her husband, and this was one of those little compromises that made their marriage work. She insisted that he cheat on her and fulfil her sexual fantasies, he insisted that she let him pamper her and treat her like a princess afterwards. They made it work. But what she wouldn’t give to see Jaune serving breakfast in bed to another woman...
In a moment, he came to the bedroom, breakfast tray in hand. He’d done the works—the eggs, bacon, and hashbrowns she’d smelled earlier, a flaky, buttery croissant, a bowl of fruit, and a glass of orange juice, along with a vase of fresh-cut flowers from the garden. He spoiled her, spoiled her absolutely rotten, and Pyrrha never knew what she could ever do for him to try to balance things between them.
“Morning, darling,” he said as he set the tray on the bed. Pyrrha cheerfully set to eating breakfast with her infinitely perfect husband. “You were in...” he chuckled, “Quite a state last night.”
She grinned. “Can you blame me? You got me all riled up, coming home so late and leaving me totally in the dark with whoever was the lucky lady...”
“Yeah,” he laughed, “you definitely would have said something if you noticed it.”
Gaaah! How did he always do this to her? As she swallowed a mouthful of food, she struggled to keep her legs from trembling with how turned on she was! And worse… she was just dying to know!
Resolve broke almost immediately. “Please honey, don’t make me beg!” she said, as though she wasn’t already. As though she wouldn’t gleefully debase herself even further just to know the name of the woman who’d humiliated her!
“Pyrrha,” he cracked a sly grin, “Do you remember, a few months ago, when we shared that bottle of Malbec and you had a little too much to drink?”
She… vaguely recalled that. They’d had a fire going in the fireplace and opened a bottle while they watched the snow fall… and she had had… maybe more than a little much, especially when they opened the second bottle…
“Well, you told me about something you said you were always too afraid to ever tell me sober, and-”
She gasped, realization blooming the place of memory. “You can’t mean-”
A familiar scent. A Faunus scent. A scent that made her think of childhood, that hint of cinnamon...
Jaune held up his scroll triumphantly to show Pyrrha a picture of a very familiar redhead, taking Jaune’s cock all the way down her throat, just like Pyrrha had done last night, her eyes crossed and delirious with lust as she struggled to take his girth. Two red fox ears poked up from her hair, the exact same shade as her daughter’s.
Pyrrha couldn’t control herself. She wasn’t prepared. Making the most undignified moan, Pyrrha simply collapsed into a puddle of lust as she pictured her own mother t-taking her son-in-law, showing Jaune- showing him why he had such a whore wife! Why she was so filthy and p-pathetic, it was in her genes! She seized the scroll from Jaune’s hands and began to swipe through the photos, seeing Jaune’s photos of her mother t-taking it from him- her mouth, her tits, her pussy, her ass-
But Mama- Mama was sexier than she was and she knew it! Mama was a curvy MILF who knew how to please a man! Not like her useless daughter who was only good at being cheated on—who was getting off on the sight of her own mother’s naked body! What a filthy, degenerate girl she was, no wonder Jaune had to seek out other women to satisfy himself with! She could picture it, picture it perfectly, her mother’s full figure, wrapping her big tits around Jaune’s cock, telling him he didn’t have to settle for a filthy pervert like-
“Pyrrha! Pyrrha!”
The room swam back into focus as her eyes sluggishly rolled to her husband’s alarmed face.
“Wha-whuzza, sumfin wrong?”
“You, uh...” he blushed, nervously, “You kind of… had a meltdown with that. Wasn’t sure you were, uh, okay, at first?”
Pyrrha giggled, leaning back into her pillows. “You’re ‘mazing,” she murmured, enjoying the incredible depravity and love she was wrapped up in at the moment. Looking to her husband, her loving, devoted husband, a faint pink blush on her face, Pyrrha had to wonder how she could ever have gotten so lucky.