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Fy's Foot Corruption For Fyacintia By Draconicon

The whoosh-whoosh of the portal closing behind him was still something he was struggling to get used to. It was one thing to have gone to a different world, to have submitted to a dragon and gained a great deal of pleasure and treasure. To be honest, that was almost normal, considering how the lion's life tended to go compared to most people. It was the going back that always felt strange, different, abnormal.

This time, he wasn't even on a long return to his normal life. He was basically on leave, given permission to go home for a while and check on things, to have a little break from the harem that he had...

Well, he still wasn't sure if he had joined or been collected. Fyacin supposed that one could argue the case either way, considering who his master was. And that was part of the problem.

Teasing master of illusions and corruption...

'Forced' feminization, mind control, musk play, gender shifting, transformation in general, anal on a scale that he had never, ever imagined taking: it was a wild ride, and the lion had been given more orgasms than he could shake a stick at, and...

And it was starting to mess with him, particularly with his master's teases. Telling him that he was a 'lioness' rather than a lion, he could work with. It was fun, and it was obviously wrong, so he could take it as a tease. Same with being nothing but a whore sometimes. He occasionally was just that.

But it was the part about being corrupted to...

He looked down at his own bare paws, wiggling his toes on the rough shag carpet outside his apartment. Was it his imagination, or did that feel a bit better than it used to? Did he like the feeling of being barefoot more than he once did?

Ugh. Stupid teasing dragon, playing mind games...

Shaking his head, he walked up to his apartment door. It was rough and scratched up, and he could tell that there'd been people around while he was gone looking to make trouble. There were spots on the wooden door that had obviously taken a new coat of paint, probably wiping out bits of graffiti here and there that his neighbors or old friends had scrawled on when he hadn't come to the door.

At least that meant that his house-sitter was still around. Fyacin reached into the pockets of his tight shorts, pulling out a key and unlocking the door. He heard a shift further in the apartment, someone pulling themselves up from the couch.

"Fyacin the great and wonderful has returned," he called out. "You can start bowing now, Malakai."

"Bowing? To you, bruh? Heh, I only bow to Mother Nature and the will of her waves, dude."

That sounded like Mal, alright. He chuckled as he shut the door behind him, seeing the head of his friend sticking over the top of the couch. The rest of the otter-orca hybrid came into view as the surfer dude stood up.

He was a bigger guy, someone that loomed as orcas were wont to do. While he had the fuzz and the fluff of otters on his shoulders and arms, as well as down the middle of his chest and stomach, he mostly looked like an orca. If a thin one, admittedly, considering that there was nowhere near the muscle bulk or gut that most associated with the species.

Fyacin rather appreciated the slender look. It meant that the big guy wasn't intimidating looking, even though he could probably throw just about anyone off the pier and into the drink if he was pushed to it.

They shared a fist-bump as the otter-orca walked over, and Mal chuckled.

"So, finally back from riding the wave of time, man?"

"Only for a few days. That man drives me straight up the wall."

"Whoa, dude. You gotta introduce them to someone that could turn you straight."

"You know what I mean."

Fyacin flopped onto the couch, grumbling into the pillows as he shifted back and forth. He didn't stay there for long, though. The whole couch smelled of orca, and horny orca, at that. He pulled his head back up, cocking his head to the side before looking back at his friend.

"Did you invite someone over while I was gone?"

"Hey, gotta take the waves where you can find 'em, bruh."

"Heh, does 'waves' mean partners in this case?"

"Everyone makes waves, little dude. All I do is ride 'em as far as they'll take me."

"Forgive me, but I'm sure that they're the ones doing the riding most of the time."

"Heh, they might have been, come to think of it."

He rolled his eyes as he rolled onto his back. Malakai was a good guy, though the surfer dude thing could get a little old sometimes. The constant confidence, the unflappable smile that the other guy had; it meant that he was a good person to be around, though occasionally he would drive the lion nearly as crazy as the dragon did.

And thinking of the dragon...

He looked down at the otter-orca's paws, wondering if they would spark anything. His dick didn't rise in his shorts, so that, thankfully, wasn't the case. He wasn't getting turned on by just the sight of bare paws, so he didn't have it as bad as his master did.

But you didn't get off to anything about them before you met him, either, and you're starting to now...

He groaned at that doubtful voice in the back of his head, sure that it was planted by Alys rather than his own consciousness. That interfering...

But, on the other hand, there was a way to test it, and for all his other faults, Malakai would be perfect for this. The guy saw no shame in anything, and that meant that he never shamed others for what they were into. Even if it was weird.

"I need to ask you another favor, Mal."

"Sure, little dude. Karma says you got a lotta credit left. What can the Mal-ster do for you?"

"...The Mal-ster?"

"...Yeah, the universe really doesn't like that name. I'll think of another one."

"...Anyway," Fyacin managed to say after making a number of strange faces. "My, uh...master - don't say anything! - my master keeps playing up the fact that he can train me to be a good little kitty cat for him. As if, but he is fun enough that I make the effort. But lately, he's been teasing me about the idea that he's given me a foot fetish, too."

"...So?"

"So, I don't have one! And he keeps telling me that I do."

"Yeah, but, so?" Mal shrugged. "Means that you'll make a good board for someone to surf on, right?"

"...Can we focus for a minute here? On me, preferably?"

"Heh, sorry."

He gave the orca another hard look before shaking his head.

"Look. He keeps saying that I'll get off on feet on my face, or that I'll cum harder for his feet than I will for his dick if he keeps up what he's doing. I'm betting that he's just messing with me, and I want your help to prove it."

"You want me to step on your dick?"

"...Well, not so hard, but that and a few other things. Prove that I don't have the same sort of freaky love of feet that he does."

"Alright."

"You don't - huh? Alright?"

"Yeah. Ain't tried that kinda stuff before, but hey, you gotta try anything once to make an omelet, right?"

"Um...sure, let's say that's the phrase."

"What do I do first?"

"Well, let's do the obvious, easy one. You know what a footjob is?"

"Oh, yeah, that's when you do a job with your feet."

"...Oh, boy..."

After explaining what a footjob was, and even going so far as to pull it up on his phone to give the otter-orca a better visual frame of reference, Fyacin found himself wondering if the lack of judgment was the best sort of prize here. Maybe a little shame and judgment would have been worth if it if he didn't have to explain literally everything?

It was too late to back out now, though particularly as Mal seemed rather excited to give it a try. The otter-orca sat on the ground, his paws lifted up and pressed right against the crotch of the lion's pants. The dancing toes felt okay, but they were no better than the feeling of fingers rubbing him and feeling him up.

If anything, they were a bit less enticing, if only from their lack of articulation and motion. They were able to rub and grind a bit more firmly, but they were also clumsy, which meant that they weren't quite as talented.

"Okay, nothing really going so far."

"Yeah, but bruh, you need to take off your pants."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm getting there."

And he wasn't taking his time because he was afraid that his master had corrupted him, no sir. He wasn't at all worried about that. Maybe slightly worried that he would get off sooner than his friend, but that was all.

The lion pulled at his pants, unzipping them and letting the front of his shorts part. Those webbed toes slid in, finding his bulge, and they pulled the underwear-clad thing forward.

He grunted a bit at the squeeze between the toes, surprised at the pressure that Mal was able to exert with them. The otter-orca wasn't doing too bad a job for never having given a footjob before, but it was still nothing special.

That's what he told himself, at least, as he tried to ignore the feeling of pressure on either side of his cock that was far stronger than what he could get from a handjob. There was something...different there, he granted, something that he could see some people enjoying, but no, it wasn't his thing.

Surely, it wasn't his thing.

His cheeks burned as he held up his hand to call Mal to a stop, shaking his head.

"That's not gonna be enough. That's proof that I don't have as big a foot fetish as the master, at least."

"Heh, I wanna meet this guy. He's got you more flustered than a fish in a thunderstorm."

"I'm pretty sure that fish are too stupid to know to be flustered."

"Dunno. Never swum in a thunderstorm."

"Don't. Now, uh..."

The lion extended one of his own paws, wiggling his toes in the orca's face. Mal turned to look at it, then looked at him. Fyacin sighed.

"You're supposed to lick it. People with a foot fetish sometimes like having their feet licked, so - AH!"

He yelped and laughed at the first lick, and if it wasn't for Mal being as strong as he was, he would have kicked the hybrid right in the face. He kept on laughing as the hybrid's broad tongue kept flicking across the bottom of his foot, his claws ripping through the cushions of the couch as he tried to wiggle away.

"GAHAHAHAH! Get off, get oo-hohahahahahahahahooooff!"

No matter how loud he shouted, the licking continued, flicking across his sensitive toes and the pads just under them. He screamed at the top of his lungs as he laughed his head off, soon breathless and shaking as the otter-orca kept on licking. He swung around, trying to pull his leg free, and only managed it when he got his other foot on Mal's chest and kicked as hard as he could.

The otter-orca rocked back, and Fyacin went flying over the back of the couch, thumping against the floor on the other side with a groan.

"...You okay, Fy?" the hybrid asked.

"Yeah...yeah, just...calming down so I don't pee myself," he grunted. "You?"

"Yeah. You know, bruh, you need to lift more. That kick was sadder than -"

"Please don't mangle another phrase. I'm pretty sure that the verbal auditors are putting you on watch."

"Huh?"

"Never mind."

He groaned, pulling himself back up and over the couch. Sliding down it and thumping back onto the cushions, he took a deep breath and leaned his head back.

"Yeah, I don't think I have a foot fetish. My master's full of it."

"Huh? We're done?"

"Yeah, I don't think there's anything else to test. It seems my natural fabulousness has won out again over the corruption of others."

"Uh, don't you have to test how you do under someone else's paws, man? I mean, the universe is double sided, like two halves of a coin, ain't it?"

"..."

The lion slowly looked up at the hybrid, then down at his webbed toes. Much as he hated to admit it, there was a point there. He hadn't tried out what it was like being underfoot the way that the master pushed him down.

And there'd be no pheromones this time to make it a cheat. No way for him to be forced to do something that he didn't want to do. No way for him to...

Goddamn it, I hate it when I talk myself into these things.

"Fine, switch places."

Once he was on the floor, he wondered if it was a particularly good idea to try this. Yeah, Mal was going to be nice about it, and yeah, he hadn't shown any real response so far, but this gave him a very different feeling. His cock bulged in his underwear a bit, making it hard for him to think straight, and it didn't get better as the otter-orca offered one of his massive paws.

As the toes grabbed him by the nose, he grunted, his tongue instantly pushing out and flicking along the underside.

"Wow, bruh, didn't even tell you to do that. Looks like you find your rhythm, though. Go on, go with the foot flow."

He groaned, his cheeks burning as he realized that he'd given the orca a lick without even being asked for it. And then he did it again, and again, tasting the soft, slightly dry soles again with each lick.

He breathed in the scent on the toes, again, soft and dry, rather than wet and musky the way that the master's feet were. There was a webbing between them that held a different sort of scent, strong but not in the same way. The foot pushed down on his face gently, and he went down with it, slowly falling further and further back on the floor.

Mal followed him down, falling off the couch with him. Soon, Fyacin was flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling past the toes and foot on his face, and he groaned as he felt his cock throbbing all the harder in his underwear.

"Well, uh, hate to tell you this, bruh, but you're harder than a tsunami on a Pacific coast."

"Ugh...Stop..."

"You really want me to stop? Come on, bruh, just go with it. You got a foot fetish, whether your master gave it to ya or not."

"No I don't."

"Really?"

Fingers found the waistband of his underwear, and his cock didn't just flop out, it smacked against his belly and then throbbed there. He groaned as Mal showed off his flexibility, the ridiculously tall otter-orca leaning down and giving his cock a lick while still dragging his foot up and down along the lion's face.

"Tastes pretty hard, salty as the ladies of the sea."

"Ugh...if your ladies taste salty...you're not having ladies," he grunted.

"Whatever. Come on, Fy, just admit it. Ya like being underfoot."

"Nnngh."

The lion tried to shake his head, but that only left him pinned with one side of his face against the floor and the other held hard underfoot. He tried to hold his breath, but all Mal did was grind against him, teasing, playing with him.

Eventually, he had to let out that breath, and then those toes were against his nose again, giving it a good squeeze and keeping him pinned down. He rolled his eyes in annoyance, but there was nothing he could do as the toes kept him breathing in that scent.

And his cock got harder and harder, too, until -

"Mmph..."

Mal was sucking on it like it was a boardwalk treat, bobbing his head up and down. He'd keep stopping, asking 'Well?', and Fyacin kept his mouth shut, blushing.

And so it went for nearly an hour, the patient hybrid pushing him further and further. He squirmed, he panted, until finally -

"I have a foot fetish, okay! Goddammit, just let me cum!"

"Heh...nah."

The hybrid rolled over, leaving the lion whimpering. Fyacin's balls suddenly went from bloated-feeling to aching horribly, and he curled up in a ball.

"Nnnngh...what the hell...that's not fair..."

"Tell ya what, bruh. You tell me everything you like, and I'll do you that favor you want so bad."

"Nnngh, what favor?"

"Fucking ya, of course. I know you like a good ride, and I'll be the best one if you tell me how to do it right. Long as the universe tells me what to do, I'm the best there is."

"So...now I'm the universe?"

"Something like that. The universe is complicated."

"Thanks, I think..."

"So, deal?"

"Ugh...fine...But you better be a damn good ride."

"I am! And you get the feet again, too."

He wished that didn't make him so hard. He really, really wished that it didn't make him so hard.

The End