Cartooniverse Mother-Daughter Crossover Sextacular

BY : GeorgeGlass
Category: -Misc Cartoons > Crossovers
Dragon prints: 8958
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the fandoms referenced in this story (see list in the Author Notes), and I made no money from writing it.

The Cartooniverse Mother-Daughter Crossover Sextacular

by George Glass

Summary: Six mother-daughter teams from around the cartoon universe compete in an epic sex contest. Who will be sent packing, and who will be crowned the Sex Queen and Princess of the Cartooniverse?

Note: If you are so kind as to leave a review of this story, I'll post a response here: http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/topic/69035-review-responses-for-the-cartooniverse-mother-daughter-crossover-sextacular/

Second Note: Per the disclaimer, I do not own any of fandoms referenced in this story: All Grown Up, The Amazing World of Gumball, Avatar: The Last Airbender, Avatar: The Legend of Korra, Ben 10, Big Hero 6, Daria, Duck Tales, Dora the Explorer, Drawn Together, Family Guy, Flintstones, Futurama, G.I. Joe, Garfield, Go, Diego, Go!, Gravity Falls, Heathcliff and Marmaduke, The Incredibles, Inside Out, Inspector Gadget, Jetsons, Johnny Bravo, Justice League, Kim Possible, King of Hill, Lilo and Stitch, Loud House, Miraculous, Phineas and Ferb, Powerpuff Girls, The Replacements, Rocky and Bullwinkle, Scooby Doo, The Simpsons, Steven Universe, Teen Titans, T.U.F.F. Puppy, Wallace and Gromit, Warner Bros toons, Who Framed Roger Rabbit?, and Zootopia.

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Chapter 1: The Kissing Competition

Rita Loud looked distinctly uncomfortable as her daughter, Lola, gripped her hand and half-dragged her toward the registration desk.

“Sweetie,” Rita was saying, “I know I promised you some mother-daughter time, but I really don’t think this is the way we should be spending it.”

“C’mon, Mom,” the little blonde girl replied, “you love public nudity. Or do I need to tell the rest of the family the real reason why we all got kicked out of the Royal Woods Hotel and Spa? You and Dad play a pretty mean game of naked Marco Polo.”

Taken aback, Rita gasped, “How do you know about that?”

“I have my ways.”

As the two arrived at the desk, another mother and daughter lined up behind them.

Bubbelita,” Vivian Garcia-Shapiro was saying, “this contest seems a bit…extreme. Are you sure you want to do this? If you really need to be naked in front of people, you could always have another ‘accident’ with your swimsuit at the next family reunion. I’m fairly certain your cousin Hershel-Luís is still pleasuring himself to his memories of the last one.”

“That was fun,” Isabella replied, flipping her long black hair adorably, “but this is the fastest way to earn my Precocious Promiscuity patch.”

“Do you really need to earn every patch?”

“Mom, do not get me started.”

Behind the Garcia-Shapiros, two Hawaiian girls—an older teen and a chubby preteen—got into line. They were immediately approached by a skirt-suited woman with a clipboard, whose heeled shoes clicked rapidly on the floor until she stopped in front of them.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Pelekai,” the woman said to the teenager, “but this contest is for mothers and daughters only.”

“But I’m Lilo’s legal guardian,” Nani objected. “And if we don’t get an infusion of cash pretty soon, we’re going to have to move out of our house.”

“Didn’t you inherit that place?”

“It’s a beachfront property. The taxes alone are murder.”

“I’m sorry, but the rules are the rules. You’ll have to wait until we have a ‘Big Sister-Little Sister’ contest.”

Nani looked glum. Lilo reached into her bag, pulled out a video camera, and smacked Nani on the ass.

“Don’t worry,” the smaller girl said, grinning up at her startled sister. “I know how we can make some money.”

They left, and the woman with the clipboard hustled toward the door, where a dark-haired girl in red-framed glasses was entering with her pink-haired mother. Both wore headbands with a metal insignia on the front.

“Excuse me, Team Uchiha!” the woman with the clipboard called. “The anime competition is next week!”

Meanwhile, a brunette woman and her teenage daughter moved forward in line.

“Sweetie,” Helen Parr was saying, “you wanted us to do something together, and it wouldn’t hurt you to come out of your shell a little more.” 

“Yeah, but,” Violet replied, “all these people are going to…see me.”

“Don’t worry about that; no one here knows us, and none of this is canon. Now c’mon, let’s go to our dressing room,” Helen said, pointing the way.

“Well…okay,” Violet replied.

Helen let Violet go ahead of her and watched the girl’s sweet little teenage ass as she walked. Her jeans didn’t flatter it as much as her skin-tight superhero costume did, but this was mainly about anticipation: Now that they’d entered this contest, Helen had the opportunity to see, touch, and otherwise experience her daughter’s growing, increasingly sexy body in ways she’d never have dared attempt before. This was going to be glorious.

They reached the dressing rooms, where Helen looked forward to getting her daughter into her first sexy costume of the evening. Violet might not be entirely comfortable with exposing herself to an audience of strangers, but she seemed less reluctant than some of the other daughters—like the spiky-haired one Helen saw through the doorway of one of the other dressing rooms.

“Mom,” Lisa Simpson objected, holding up a skirt that seemed to be little more than a cummerbund, “this contest goes against everything I stand for. How can you be okay with putting yourself and your daughter on display like this? This totally reinforces patriarchal norms!”

“Lisa,” Marge Simpson replied, “if you can think of a faster way to earn fifteen thousand dollars to pay for your father’s pork-dependency therapy, I’m all ears. Otherwise, get your buns into that miniskirt.”

Across the way, Lois Griffin turned on the lights around the dressing-room mirror as her daughter, Meg, came in behind her.

“Um, and why are we doing this?” the teenager asked.

“Sweetie,” Lois replied, “having the chance to be a model made me realize how intoxicating it is to have all those eyes on you. You’re never gonna experience that otherwise, so this is the best opportunity you’ll ever have.”

“Um, okay,” Meg replied dubiously.

In the adjacent dressing room, Agent K smiled to herself. It seemed that she and her daughter, Riley, might be the only team here that was entirely committed to this contest.

“What do you think, Mom?” Riley said, spinning around in front of her mother.

The redheaded teen was wearing a yellow tube top that showed off her midriff. Below that, she had on her trademark tricolored belt, but she was wearing it with cutoff short-shorts instead of her usual full-length jeans. The ensemble was completed by a pair of stripper shoes in metallic bronze, with heels high enough to put Riley’s face not too far below that of her rather taller mother.

“You look wonderful, darling!” K exclaimed. She herself wore a black leotard that was so skin-tight as to make her nipples entirely visible. “A perfect little trollop. We’ll win this contest for certain!”

“But…” Riley said, “I’m a little worried nobody here’s gonna know who we are. I mean, our series finale was ten years ago.”

“Ah, but we’re on Disney Plus now. That makes us at least marginally relevant again.”

A chime sounded from the overhead PA system, and then a voice said, “All contestants, please be ready to take the stage in ten minutes.”

***

Ten minutes later, the house lights in the huge auditorium went down and the stage lights came up. Then a cheerful female voice came over the loudspeakers.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen! My name is Judy Hopps, and tonight I’ll be your announcer, along with my new friend and colleague, Daria!”

“Hey,” Daria said flatly.

“Tonight’s contest,” Judy went on, “will consist of a series of four events: kissing, striptease, no-holds-barred action, and a final, mystery competition that the contestants won’t know the details of until it begins. Daria, any guesses as to what that will be?”

“Nope.”

“Each round will be scored by our panel of five judges. And here they come now!”

In single file, five people came down one of the aisles, waving at the audience as they went, and took seats at the base of the stage. The spotlight focused on each of them in turn.

“Our judges come from all over time and space, and there’s no better example of that than our first judge, George Jetson. His daughter, Judy, and Jane, his wife, won this contest back in the Seventies, and he’s been a beauty pageant judge before, so he’s well qualified. Daria, you want to take the next one?”

“That’s Asami Sato. She’s a rich industrialist, and she’s dating Avatar Korra.”

A young man in the audience, whose shaven head was tattooed with a blue arrow, exclaimed, “Wait, Avatar who?”

“Not sure how that makes her more qualified than all the other lesbians in the Cartooniverse,” Daria concluded.

“Um,” Judy replied in a low voice, “there actually aren’t that many.” 

“Wow. I’m from the Nineties, and even I think that’s backward.”

“Our third judge,” Judy continued, “is Jeffrey Boomhauer the Third of Arlen, Texas. Like myself, he’s an officer of the law, and he’s known for both his success with the ladies and his verbal eloquence. Daria?”

“Um, that pretty boy in leather is Cat Noir. He’s a superhero from France, and he’s into fashion or whatever, so I guess the contestants are gonna get judged on that.” She snorted. “He’d probably make a perfect date for my sister.”

“Our fifth and final judge is Foxxy Love,” Judy said. “We’re not exactly sure what her qualifications are, but the bio on her application says she’s—and I’m quoting here—’a fine-ass ho’ and ‘try-sexual, ‘cause I’ll try anything.’”

“She actually wrote ‘‘cause’ without the ‘be-’?” Daria asked.

“She did indeed,” Judy replied quickly. Then, louder, she continued, “And now, introducing your master of ceremonies, Donald Duck!”

A spotlight appeared on the right side of the stage, and into it stepped a white duck wearing a blue sailor suit.

“Good evening,” Donald quacked, waddling out toward center stage. But to the audience, his words sounded more like “Wah-WAH-wah.”

Voices rose up from the crowd. “Huh?” “What was that?”

“My name is Donald Duck, and I’ll be your-”

More voices interrupted. “What the hell are you saying?” “Speak English!” “More like Donald Dork.”

Donald tried to continue, but to the audience, his every word was nonsense.

“Boo!” “Get off the stage!” “We want our money back!” “Take a slow boat to Peking!”

“Rotten vegetables!” called Betty Boop, walking up the aisle with a tray of old veggies strapped to her front like an old-fashioned cigarette girl. “Get your rotten vegetables here, ten cents a piece!” Audience members practically threw money at the black-and-white beauty as they snatched bad produce from her tray and hurled it at the duck on the stage.

Watching from the wings with the other contestants, Agent K said to her daughter, “Oh, dear. This competition might be over before it even begins.”

“Don’t worry, Mom,” Riley replied, whipping out her phone. “I’ve got this.”

Squeezing a hidden trigger on the phone, Riley made a secret panel spring from its base. Then she pressed the panel’s single big red button. The phone auto-dialed, and the call was answered immediately.

“Hello, Fleemco.”

“I need a replacement host for the Cartooniverse Mother-Daughter Crossover Sextacular,” Riley said. “Someone cool who speaks clearly.”

“Cool and speaks clearly, got it,” Conrad Fleem replied.

Virtually the moment Riley’s call ended, Donald Duck’s phone rang. He dodged a rubbery old carrot and answered.

“Hello?” he said incoherently. “I won a cruise to Barbados? And it’s leaving in an hour? Hot dog!”

He jammed the phone back in his pocket and shouted, “You’ve been a terrible audience! Good night, and go fuck yourselves!” before dropping the microphone and bolting into the wings.

“What’d he say?” shouted someone in the audience.

“Who cares?” replied another.

“Well,” Judy said, “this is an unexpected turn of events.”

“Nah, I think I could have called this,” Daria replied.

“The question is,” Judy asked, “who’s going to-”

Suddenly, a man came sliding sideways out from behind the left-hand curtain and came to a stop in the middle of the stage. He wore a white jacket and bow tie over what appeared to be his regular clothes: a black T-shirt, jeans, and sunglasses. He deftly snatched up the microphone with one hand while he slicked back his blonde pompadour with the other.

“Good evening, I’m Johnny Bravo,” he said. “And I’ll be your host for this here-” he pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and read it “‘-Cartooniverse Mother-Daughter Crossover Sextacular.’ Oh, mama, I’ve found my dream job!”

From the audience, an older woman with red hair and horn-rimmed sunglasses shouted, “Good for you, son!”

Johnny looked back at his sheet of paper and read, “So, without further ado, let’s meet our contestants. First, all the way from Metroville, Kansas, we have Helen and Violet Parr!”

The mother and daughter slinked onto the stage. Each of them was wearing a black-and-electric-blue catsuit that clung revealingly to her body. Helen had taken the idea from their superhero costumes and had even commissioned Edna Mode to design the suits.

“Yowza,” Johnny said, his mouth falling open. Then he looked back at his paper. “Up next, from Pleasant Hills, Indiana, we have Agent K and Riley Daring!”

Dressed in their revealing black leotard and tube top with short-shorts, respectively, K and Riley paraded onto the stage. Many in the audience might not have recognized them, but the hot-bodied platinum blonde and the fresh-faced redhead drew plenty of applause and wolf whistles nonetheless.

“All right,” Johnny said enthusiastically. “And now, from-” Johnny squinted at the paper “-uh, Qua-hog, I guess?…Rhode Island, introducing Lois and Meg Griffin!”

Lois emerged first, strutting onto the stage wearing a turquoise bikini top above a tight pink skirt. Meg followed, wearing an outfit that had the same color scheme but was far less revealing: a loose-fitting turquoise belly shirt that showed no more than an inch of belly, and equally loose-fitting pink shorts, along with a pink ski hat.

“Mom,” the girl murmured through the side of her mouth, “this is dumb. You look hot, and I look totally frumpy.”

“Your figyah’s not your best attribute, sweetie,” Lois murmured back. “Just smile and act pretty.”

“Our next contestants,” Johnny said, “hailing from the Tri-State Area, Vivian and Isabella Garcia-Shapiro!”

Vivian came out wearing a sparkling black evening gown with a plunging neckline that revealed half a yard of cleavage. Her daughter wore a similar gown but with a higher neckline and a much higher hemline, showing off her slender legs up to the middle of her thighs. To complete their ensembles, Vivian’s hair was tied back with a sparkly black ribbon, and Isabella had a sparkly black bow in her dark hair. Johnny’s eyes narrowed as he looked at the girl.

“Dang,” he muttered, apparently not aware that the mic was capturing his words, “the daughter, uh, looks a little young for this kinda thing.”

“No she’s not!” a small red-haired girl shouted vehemently from the audience. She was wearing a T-shirt that read Johnny’s Other Ride. “She’s totally hot! You should wanna bang her ‘til her eyes fall out!”

“Go home, little neighbor girl, it’s past your bedtime!” Johnny shouted back. Then he looked back to his paper. “And now, from Springfield, uh…I can’t make out the state…Marge and Lisa Simpson!”

Marge and Lisa emerged from behind the curtain to the right of the stage. Marge wore a short, tight blue dress that clung as tightly to her obviously braless chest as it did to her ass, both of which were accentuated by the chest-forward, butt-back posture that her high-heeled stripper shoes necessitated. Lisa, meanwhile, wore a red mesh crop-top, a black miniskirt, and open-toed sandals.

“Mom,” the girl griped in a whisper, “this is humiliating. I look like one of those ‘prostitots’ from the parent-shaming websites.”

“Don’t be dramatic,” Marge whispered back. “At least I’m not making you wear heels.”

“Only because I kept falling on my face.”

“And last but not least,” Johnny called, “from Royal Woods, Michigan, Rita and Lola Loud!”

The audience gasped as a little blonde girl in a tight brown-leather miniskirt, a matching bustier, and stilettos led a similarly blonde adult woman on a leash. Along with her dog collar, Rita wore what was essentially a leather thong bikini, which drew the eye to her wide hips and ass. On the lowest part of her back was a henna tramp-stamp with barbed-wire flourishes around text that only the audience members in the first few rows could read: SLUT MOMMY.

“Wow, that’s…oh boy,” Johnny said, staring at Rita. She seemed to be trying to smile while fighting the urge to run and hide.

As the audience whooped and hollered, Johnny remembered to look at his piece of paper.

“How about a big round of applause for all these fine ladies?” he called. The audience clapped and cheered boisterously.

Lola Loud knew how to read a crowd. She could tell that even though she’d wowed them with her domme-daughter entrance, a lot of them favored the team that had immediately preceded hers. The woman and girl from Springfield might have had a weird yellowish skin tone and bizarre hair, but they exuded a next-door-neighbor vibe that contrasted nicely with their skanky outfits. Audiences loved seeing innocence mixed with sluttiness.

Fortunately, Lola knew just what to do about them.

“Well,” said Judy, “this is quite a slate of competitors we have here. What do you think, Daria?”

“I think your low-level civil service job must pay peanuts if you’re doing this in your off hours.”

In the audience, Peridot said to her fellow Crystal Gems, “I require further information about this competition.”

“Well,” said Pearl, “each team must compete with the others in a series of-”

“No,” Peridot interrupted. “I mean, what are ‘mothers’ and ‘daughters’?

“You don’t know how humans make more humans?” Amethyst said. “I’ll have to tell you later. It’s hilarious.”

In an orderly two-by-two line, the contestants exited the stage. Then the spotlight was back on Johnny.

“All right, ladies and gentlemen, our first round of the night will be…the kissing competition!”

The audience cheered. Looking down at his paper, Johnny continued.

“Each team will have one minute to show us the most smokin’-hot kiss a mother and daughter can share. They can’t take off any clothing—aw, dang it—but they can do anything else they want as long as they’re lockin’ lips!”

As the audience hooted and cheered, Judy said, “The kissing competition has been a staple of these contests since the beginning. In fact, down in the audience, I see our undefeated Kissing Cousins champions, Ben and Gwen Tennyson!”

The tween-aged cousins seemed to know they were being talked about, and they both waved at their fellow audience members as though they were co-marshals of a parade.

“They’re only undefeated,” Daria said, “because nobody wants to see Superman and Supergirl make out. Or a bratty blonde who still plays with dolls and her younger cousin who kept a screwdriver in his diaper. Or two Mexican kindergarteners.”

Glowering at the Tennysons, Diego muttered, “Chinga sus madres, sus tías, y sus perros, fundillos.”

To the audience members around them, Dora said sweetly, “That means ‘Fuck your mothers, your aunts, and your dogs, assholes.’”

“Thank you, dearie, you’re very thoughtful,” said a gray-haired woman in reading glasses. “I’ll bet my bird Tweety would just love you. I couldn’t bring him with me, of course, but my cat Sylvester is keeping an eye on him. They’re the best of friends.”

“First up,” Johnny Bravo announced, “we have Team Garcia-Shapiro!”

The mother and daughter strode back out onto the stage in their sparkling black evening wear. The audience applauded.

“Ready, ladies?” Johnny asked. “On your marks…get set…smooch!”

The television screen above the stage zoomed in on Vivian and Isabella, showing them from the waist up. At the bottom of the screen, a timer appeared and began counting down from sixty.

“Okay, Mom,” Isabella whispered brightly, “just like we rehearsed.”

Vivian couldn’t resist her beautiful daughter’s smile. She bent her knees, lowered her face to Isabella’s, and kissed her small, soft lips.

“WhooOOOOOoooo!” the crowd cheered.

But the action didn’t stop with a kiss. Isabella cupped her mother’s breast, which looked huge in the girl’s small hand, and squeezed it lustily as the kiss went from closed-mouthed to open-mouthed.

“All right!” shouted Buttercup, who was sitting with her sisters in the tenth row. “Some real live girl-on-girl stuff!” Looking pointedly at the other two Powerpuff Girls, she added, “Since I’m not getting any at home.”

“Buttercup,” Blossom said, “we told you, we’re not into that.”

“Then why are you even here?” Buttercup demanded.

“I’m here to keep you out of trouble,” Blossom replied.

“I just wanna know what mommies are for,” Bubbles said. Then, going a bit wide-eyed as Vivian pushed her tongue into her daughter’s mouth, Bubbles quietly asked, “Is it…that?”

Vivian continued frenching Isabella and put a hand on the young girl’s slim leg. As the camera zoomed out to show the below-the-waist action on the TV screen, Vivian slid her hand up the short skirt of Isabella’s dress to cup the girl’s little bottom beneath it. The audience hooted, howled, and cheered.

The timer above the stage counted down to zero, and a buzzer went off. Isabella and Vivian separated, holding each other’s hands.

“Thank you, ladies,” Johnny said. The mother and daughter took a bow and exited the stage.

From the announcers’ booth, Judy said, “A solid start for Team-Garcia Shapiro. The judges had to have liked that breast-squeeze by Isabella.”

“They probably dug the mom reaching up her little girl’s dress, too,” Daria added. “Pervs.”

“Sweetheart, that was a very nice kiss,” Vivian said as they walked into the wings. “I have to admit, I wouldn’t mind if we did that sometimes at home.”

“I suppose I could use the practice,” Isabella replied with a grin.

Back on the stage, Johnny announced, “Next up, we have Team Parr!”

Helen and Violet returned to the stage in their blue-and-black catsuits. Using her powers in the most subtle way she knew how, Helen was making her nipples protrude visibly through the tight fabric. Judging from the whistles and catcalls coming from the audience, they had noticed, and they approved.

Helen wasn’t exactly certain when it had started, but over the last couple of months, she had found herself becoming increasingly attracted to her teenage daughter. Having watched Violet grow from an adorable baby to a sweet child to a gawky adolescent, Helen had found in the past few months that her daughter was blossoming a beautiful teenager, whose slender, youthful body grew lovelier and sexier every day, and whose shyness and awkwardness only seemed to underscore the beauty that Violet herself failed to appreciate. Helen had found herself taking every opportunity to slyly admire her daughter whenever the girl was in her swimsuit, or shorts, or her underwear.

It could have all stopped there, but then came the exciting day a week ago when Helen got word about this contest. She convinced Violet that competing would be a perfect mother-daughter activity that would help Violet become more poised and confident, even if they had to keep it a secret from Bob and Dash. And every day since then, she and Violet had rehearsed: dancing, kissing, and so much more.

“Vi,” Helen murmured as they walked to center stage, “remember: just relax and go with it. We’re gonna do great.”

“Okay, Mom,” the girl said quietly.

“Alright, hotties,” Johnny said. “Ready, set, suck face!”

With practiced ease—and yet no small amount of excitement—Helen pressed her lips against her daughter’s, put her arms around the girl, and pulled her up onto her toes at the same time that she pulled her close, thereby pushing their breasts against each other. As the audience made appreciative sounds, mother and daughter rotated slightly, just as they had rehearsed, to give the audience a good view as Helen’s hands slid down onto Violet’s ass and gave it a prolonged squeeze.

“Niiiice,” Johnny murmured.

They broke their kiss, and Violet turned to face the audience, with Helen right behind her. Violet then turned her head back and resumed kissing her mother while Helen felt up her daughter’s small breasts with both hands. The audience was boisterous in its approval. Then time ran out.

“Well, our contest is off to a heck of a start!” Judy Hopps exclaimed. “How are the rest of the teams going to top what we’ve seen so far?”

“I dunno,” Daria said, sounding faintly more engaged than she had previously, “but they’re going to have to do something pretty messed up.”

The spotlight moved back to Johnny, who awkwardly dropped his hands so that his sheet of paper was in front of his crotch.

“Well, that was…wow,” Johnny blurted. Then he turned his back to the audience, looked at the paper, and looked back over his shoulder as he said, “And now, Team Daring!”

Agent K and Riley came out to center stage, waving and blowing sexy kisses at the cheering crowd. 

“Ready, darling?” Agent K asked.

“Ready, Mom,” Riley replied. “Let’s wow them!”

“Ladies,” Johnny called, “ready, set, make out!”

Riley and Agent K turned to face each other and began kissing. As they did, K’s hands moved down and cupped Riley’s ass firmly. Suddenly, Riley broke off the kiss, then leaped up and wrapped her legs around her mother’s waist. As the mother and daughter began tongue-wrestling, Riley and her mother moved sensuously against each other, as though K were fucking Riley standing up. The audience loved it, if their whistling and hollering was any indication.

Before they knew it, their time was up.

“Thank you, Team Daring,” Johnny said, again turning awkwardly away from the audience. “Aw, man,” he muttered. “If I ever do this gig again, I’m gonna hafta get me some steel-plated underpants.”

“A nice little trick by the Darings,” Judy commented. “Simulated sex always gets a crowd going.”

“How do you even know that?” Daria asked.

“I’ve been spending a lot of time at the nudist club lately.”

Johnny, seemingly anxious to get the audience looking at something other than him, quickly looked down at his paper.

“Up next, we have Team Simpson!”

Marge and Lisa returned to the stage. Their outfits were unchanged save that Marge had traded her stripper heels for sandals like Lisa’s, figuring that otherwise, the difference in their heights would make kissing too difficult. In addition, both Marge and Lisa had put on lip gloss, glittery tubes of which had been left in their dressing room with a note: “To the fabulous ladies of Team Simpson. Springfield girls always stick together!” The gloss was shinier and more eye-catching than the lipstick Marge had planned to use, and given that her and Lisa’s lips needed all the visibility they could get, Marge had used the gloss instead.

“All right, Lisa,” Marge murmured, “just pretend I’m some boy you like.”

“That would be ironic,” Lisa replied, “considering that I’m only doing this as a way of protesting society’s heteronormative bias.”

“Whatever gets you in the mood, sweetie,” Marge replied.

“Ladies,” Johnny called, “On your marks, get set, osculate!” He turned to the audience and held up a small book he’d pulled from his jacket pocket. “Momma gave me a mini-thesaurus for Christmas.”

Trying to compensate for Lisa’s lack of enthusiasm, Marge dropped to her knees, planted a solid kiss on her daughter’s lips, and kept on kissing her as she ran her hands over Lisa’s little mini-skirted bottom as conspicuously and raunchily as she knew how.

Marge was planning to change things up by kissing Lisa on her neck and chest, especially where her little pink nipples showed through her mesh top. Surely, the audience would love that. But when Marge tried to take her mouth off of Lisa’s, she wasn’t able to.

“Mmmmh!” Lisa whined into Marge’s mouth, trying and failing to pull away. “Mmmmh!

“Urrrr luuuh errrr shuuuh tu-uuuh!” Marge replied, the closest approximation of “Our lips are stuck together” that she could manage.

“Um, ladies, your time is up,” Johnny said. “Ladies?”

Lisa and Marge, still attached at the lips, managed to move sideways off the stage. Then Marge pulled out her tube of lip balm and looked at it with one eye. She realized that the glittery paper around the tube wasn’t original and, using her fingernails, managed to peel it off. Underneath, the tube read, “Kurtz’s Bond Wand: The Glue Stick That Really Sticks.”

Back on stage, Johnny said, “Well, that was…different. And now, Team Loud!”

A stagehand dressed in black put a step stool in the middle of the stage, Lola came out from behind the curtain, again leading Rita by her leash. Lola got up on the stool and looked imperiously at her mother.

“On your knees, Mommy!” the little blonde girl commanded.

Red-faced and avoiding eye contact with the audience, Rita Loud knelt before her daughter. Now Lola was effectively a head taller than her mother.

With both hands, the little girl took hold of Rita’s head, making sure both of their faces were exactly sideways to the camera so that it could capture every detail when Lola forced her tongue into her mother’s mouth.

“Mmmmnnh,” Rita moaned uncomfortably. And she made a similar sound when Lola reached down into the cups of her mother’s leather corset to maul the woman’s breasts as she continued raping Rita’s mouth with her tongue.

When time was up, Lola disengaged and stood up, looking down at Rita with a haughty smile.

“Good girl, Mommy! Now come along!” Then, pulling on Rita’s leash, Lola led her mother off the stage.

“My, that was…different,” Judy Hopps said. “I’m pretty sure there’s never been a domme daughter and sub mother in this contest before.” Then, seeming to forget that she was on mic, she looked to Daria and asked, “Do you think they act like that at home?”

“It’s more common than you think. They had it on Sick, Sad World last week.”

“Well, Johnny said, “that was one hot mama…and one weird little girl,” he added, suppressing a shudder. “And now, the final contestants in the kissing competition: Team Griffin!”

Lois and Meg strode out onto the stage, Lois throwing salacious looks at the audience while Meg just waved.

“Now remember, sweetheart,” Lois said, “this isn’t the time to be shy. You’ve got to really use those stubby fingers.”

“I might as well,” Meg replied grumpily, “since that’s the only part of me the audience is going to see.”

“All right, ladies, get ready,” said Johnny. “Aaaaand…kiss!”

Lois and Meg moved together and turned such that Lois’ back was to the audience. Meg was barely visible behind her, save for her arms, which reached around her mother and moved down onto Lois’ shapely ass as they kissed.

At first, the audience was audibly disappointed that they couldn’t see the actual kissing. But their excitement rose when Meg’s fingers grasped the edge of Lois’ pink skirt and pulled it up to expose the turquoise thong panties underneath. Johnny’s jaw dropped.

“Man oh man,” he muttered.

In the audience, Jane Jetson turned to Wilma Flintstone and said, “The rules say you can’t take any clothing off, but they don’t say you can’t move it around. That’s how Judy and I won this thing back in the Seventies. Well, that, and futuristic sex toys.”

“I wish Pebbles had been old enough back then,” Wilma sighed. “This would have been so much fun. But by the time she was a hot teenager, she already had her own series.”

Meanwhile, Meg’s fingers hadn’t stopped with pulling up Lois’ skirt; now, they were probing beneath the thin strap of her thong, such that the girl was very obviously exploring her mother’s pussy as the two females kissed. The audience was raucously appreciative, and it became more so when Meg’s index finger moved up to push against Lois’ half-exposed pink asshole.

Johnny, his normally pale face going red, began fanning himself ineffectually with his piece of paper. Just as it looked as though he might pass out, time was up. Lois and Meg disengaged, took a bow before the whooping fans, and left the stage.

“Now,” Judy Hopps said, “it’s time for our judges to rank the contestants. Let’s listen in.”

“I thought Team Garcia-Shapiro’s kiss was the most passionate,” Asami was saying.

“Yeah,” George Jetson agreed. “Then again, Team Griffin…ooba dooba dooba!”

“Dangol’TeamSimpson, man,” said Boomhauer. “’s’likeacoupleodangol’vacuumcleanersgoin’atit like shhhhhhlpppp.”

“As far as costumes go,” said Cat Noir, “I’d say Team Parr was the most impressive. But wow, yeah, Team Griffin.”

“I’da thought you’d vote for Team Loud,” Foxxy replied, eying Cat Noir’s outfit with an approving smile, “seein’ as you’s all into leather.”

Over the next couple of minutes, the judges entered their scores via touchpad as the six teams again assembled on the stage. Marge and Lisa’s lips had been separated but looked sore and swollen. Johnny, meanwhile, was looking at his sheet of paper, his brow furrowed.

“Wait for cue to announce winner,” he said.

A pink anthropomorphic cougar in a white collar and black bowtie came onto the stage and whispered something in Johnny’s ear. Johnny nodded. Then the cougar whispered again.

“Oh, uh, sorry,” Johnny said to the audience. “I guess I wasn’t supposed to read that part aloud.”

“Not everybody’s made for show business,” Snagglepuss commented. Then he waved to the audience and hustled off stage.

“And now, ladies and gentlemen,” Johnny announced, “the winner of the first round is…Team Griffin!”

The audience applauded as the teams’ scores appeared on the big screen, ranked from first to last. Team Griffin had indeed done well, but Team Daring was a close second, and Team Parr’s score was only fractionally lower. The Garcia-Shapiros had also scored respectably and came in fourth, with the Louds trailing somewhat in fifth place. Team Simpson was last by a wide margin. Johnny glanced at his paper again.

“And now, sadly, we say farewell to Team Simpson,” he announced. “Thanks for droppin’ in, ladies.”

Marge frowned, but Lisa looked relieved as the two left the stage. Johnny turned back to the audience.

“Now, don’t go too far away, folks, ‘cause next up we’ve got-” Johnny glanced down at his sheet and murmured “Oh heck yeah” before shouting, “-the Striptease Competition!”

As the contestants filed off the stage, Lola looked around at the other teams. She had been pleased that her glue-stick trick had worked so well in removing the Simpsons from the contest, but now she fumed at her own team’s poor score. Clearly, she needed to take things up a notch.

Even though the judges had ranked Lois and Meg’s kiss the best, albeit by a small margin, Lola didn’t really consider Team Griffin a threat. Unless they had some kind of secret weapon, sooner or later the daughter’s dumpiness, or the mom’s efforts to hide it, would do them in.

Agent K and Riley Daring, on the other hand, seemed to be on the verge of becoming the new fan favorites. The combination of K’s slinky sexiness and Riley’s wholesome, can-do vibe could easily move them into first place by the end of the contest. And that just wouldn’t do.

Luckily, Lola had done a little research on the competition, and she knew Team Daring’s Achilles’ heel. It would just be a matter of exploiting it.



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