FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The Monk's Changeling

For Lordrevan/Burmecianblue

This world was the last one that the raven had expected to visit. He was used to the world of temples and shrines, of the rolling hills and the shifting borders that formed his homeland. They were known; they were something that he was used to.

This world of bright, vibrant landscapes, of acres of apple trees and towns of spires and towers and trees made little sense to him. They looked like something out of another's imagination, a realm that was almost...too cute for words.

The demonic presence he'd sensed from his world would find this place all too easy to devour, Satres realized. Nothing here quite felt...real, in the same way that things back home did. It had too much of a feeling of innocence behind it. On the positive side, the demon here wouldn't be hard to find, since it would stick out like a sore thumb here, but then again, so would he.

I really don't 'fit' with the look of this world, he thought as he walked along. While the few natives he'd seen were vaguely equine - with a horse face and mane, as well as a tail that swished like a horse's - with human features like feet and hands, he was more humanoid than they were. His black feathers were glossy in a way that their fur wasn't, and his beak had just enough of a point to it to make it look dangerous. His bare talons scraped at the earth and frequently gouged holes in the ground when he took a step. His hands, covered in the same feathers that covered the rest of his body, were clenched just tight enough to show bulges of muscles in his arms.

The only thing that was even mildly non-threatening about him was the robe that he wore. It was yellow, both dyed that color and aged, and it clung to his body tightly. Not quite tight enough to give away secrets, but close enough to prevent it from getting tangled up when he was moving around.

Yet even that was the wrong color, the wrong shade, the wrong thing in a world like this. It emphasized...HE emphasized fighting, and that in and of itself felt out of place here.

But he was here to do a job. In the monastery, a demon had been felt, and he had to deal with it before it caused more trouble. His appointed assignment: bring it back to the monastery, and it would be dealt with the way that all the demons were dealt with. As soon as he found the thing and subdued it, the portal back would open, and things would be done with.

Satres turned his head towards the nearest settlement. It was fairly large, as things went in this world, and he could see some of the equine figures just outside of the town borders. They were rather small looking from this distance, but then, he'd never gotten close enough to see what they really looked like.

Rather than the small groups of two to six of them that he'd seen wandering around, this was a mob; at least two dozen of them were chasing after another, one that was a mix of black and green. It turned, and he saw that there was a crooked horn sticking out from its forehead.

Groaning, the raven set off down the hill he was on. His three-taloned feet dug into the earth before shoving him forward, adding to his speed. Regardless of his mission, he had to help those in need, and he'd seen enough mobs in his time to know that, 9 times out of 10, they were chasing after someone that was totally innocent rather than someone that was guilty.

It didn't take long to pick a spot where the mob was chasing the darker colored figure; they were running in a straight line, and their quarry didn't seem to have the brains to turn them in a different direction. Satres picked out a place in the fields outside the town, where there was plenty of room for him to move around. The fields were a little muddy, making him pick his feet out of the wetter patches a few times until he found a dryer spot. With firm earth under his feet, he turned in the direction of the mob and waited.

They didn't take long to reach him. As they got closer and closer, he got a better look at the creatures of this world.

The first thing that he noticed was that they weren't quite horse-like, but more like...ponies. Their bodies were too small compared to the horses that he had seen in other worlds as well as his own, and he doubted that they'd really measure up, in height and other ways. They wore simple clothes, like farmers for the most part, though here and there he spotted things that were closer to fancy and sophisticated clothes.

They charged over the open farmland, sticks and pitchforks and chairs, whatever they could have grabbed while running raised over their heads as they chased after their quarry. Teeth bared and mouths open, they looked angry beyond belief.

In the front of the group was a creature both like and unlike the ponies chasing it. While it had the same sort of body, it was darker colored, a dark gray shade that covered it from head to toe. The only break in it was at the eyes and the half-shredded wings, which were a faded blue-green. On its head was a pointed horn, and its legs and arms were filled with holes, though it didn't seem bothered by them, almost as though they had always been there. Satres couldn't see why anything would have that, but he supposed all life had different forms for a reason.

The mob must have had a chance to do something to the creature that they were chasing; while the mob still had clothes on, the raven was surprised to see that the thing fleeing the mob was dressed in little more than tatters of clothing. Shreds of whatever shirt it had worn just barely covered the creature's chest, and it ran in little more than underwear below the waist.

They were coming his way now, he realized as he took his eyes off of the near-naked prey of the mob. "Time to stop this," Satres muttered to himself.

He took a few steps forward, allowing the creature to get behind him. The mob continued moving forward, but slowed as they got closer to him. They tried to turn around him, but he stepped in front of them; they went the other way, and he stepped in front of them again.

This continued for a few minutes before one of the ponies - a male, he thought, by the slight bulge in his pants - stepped forward. Satres stood his ground, even when the pony stopped right in front of him, holding a lit torch in his hand and threatening the raven with it. "Now see here. We don't have any quarrel with you, but if you stop us from dealing with that thing, we'll have to deal with you too!" the pony said.

"Truly?" Satres asked, one feathery eyebrow lifting up.

"Yes, we will!"

"I'm sure you would try. But tell me." His hand moved in a blur, snatching the torch out of the pony's grip before throwing it into a nearby mud puddle. The pony scrambled backwards, his eyes wide as Satres shrugged. "Why would you -"

"Get them!" the pony shouted, pointing at the raven. "Get him out of the way, then we can deal with her!"

"Her?" Satres whispered, looking behind him. The strange looking creature was indeed female, he realized, though a very young one. She couldn't have been more than a teenager, if that. "Oh. Oh. You shouldn't have told me that."

The mob swarmed forward, but as soon as they were within reach of the raven, they realized just how stupid the idea of surrounding him was. It didn't prevent his escape; it merely gave him a plethora of targets to choose from.

One by one, then two by two the ponies went flying backwards. Some bore the mark of a fist, while others the imprint of a taloned foot. Each time they went flying away from the raven, they landed in the mud and slid along for a few feet before coming to a stop, staining their clothes brown.

Satres was a whirlwind of punches and kicks, connecting with the different ponies around him even as they reached for him to stop him. Those few that did manage to land a hand on him were grabbed, spun, used as a weapon before they were discarded in favor of his own hands and feet.

He did not smile while he fought; his beak was flat and his eyes blank as he moved from one target to another. Fist to the chin; foot to the stomach. Chop behind each knee, and a squat-kick to send them back. Flip, grab head, throw to the side. Each chain of moves was enough to deal with another pony, and more than threatening enough to keep the mob's attention on him rather than the young female that they'd been chasing.

Despite their superior numbers, none of them knew a thing about fighting. Maybe if they had brought some guard or another, they might have had some chance, but Satres somehow doubted it; the anger that they had was not the sort that he'd found before. Too new, too pure still, without so much of the hate that he was experienced with in other worlds. None of them had fought for their lives before, and he doubted that the guards were much better.

It didn't take more than a few minutes to have the different ponies thrown a dozen or more feet from the girl, and the raven was barely breathing hard. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, taking a few deep breaths before looking down at the leader of the mob. "You had your chance to get past me. You failed. Now go home before I show you just how hard I can really hit."

"What are you talking about?" one of the ponies said. "You sent me flying with one hit!"

"Yes, and you have no broken bones right now; if I were using my full strength, you would have been limping home on a broken leg, at least." Satres let that thought sink into the crowd, then turned around. "You have thirty seconds. If you are gone in that time, I will not pursue you, and this fight will be over. But if you're still there..."

There was always a risk to turning one's back on a mob of people, particularly one that had been humiliated as thoroughly as this one had; there was always a chance there was someone in the group that wanted revenge for being dealt with so easily, and would try and strike him from behind. Considering how poor they were at fighting, the raven liked to believe that he would be able to tell if they were coming his way, but he might not. Still, it was a chance he had to take. Turning his back like this was the best way he knew to show that he believed that they weren't a threat, that he knew how easily he'd beaten them. Hopefully, shame and fear would do the rest of his work for him, and chase them off.

Judging by the loud hoofbeats that he heard, he was convinced that he was right. A slight smile tugged at the side of his beak, but he kept his face pointed the opposite direction, making sure that they had the full thirty seconds.

When he finally turned around, the ponies had scattered. Some had run off towards the town, while others had run in other directions, but they were all running away. It was almost humorous, he supposed, but he didn't laugh; it was too pathetic for laughter.

As they disappeared from view, he turned his attention back to the girl that they'd been chasing.

He'd barely turned around before she slammed into him, nearly knocking him back a step from the impact. Her face pressed against his groin due to the height difference, and the raven shook his head lightly as he looked down at her. "You're safe now, but please. Let go of me."

"You saved me. You saved me," she said, just holding herself against him. Her face rubbed against him again and again as she held herself against him - almost like she was nuzzling him, he thought for a moment - and almost against his will, Satres felt the rubbing getting a reaction out of him.

Clearing his throat, the raven took a step back, firmly keeping the little girl a step away from him. "I do not know why they were chasing you, but you should be safe for now. I would suggest -"

"Please, let me come with you!"

The sudden request threw the raven for a loop, and he looked down at her with a raised, feathered eyebrow. "Come...with me?" Satres asked.

"Yeah, let me come with you." She stepped forward again, almost grabbing him by the waist before he stepped back. Her horn did graze him lightly, rubbing against his waist before he got out of the way. "Come on, please...you just saved me. You gotta let me come with you."

"The fact that I saved you does not mean anything of the sort," Satres said. The girl kept coming at him, and he kept having to dance around to keep from getting grabbed by her. His toes dug into the ground each time to secure his landing, and he ripped holes in the earth when he jumped away again, each one making a new hole or scratch in the field.

He groaned, shaking his head as he ducked around another of her lunges to grab him. "Be still! This is ridiculous."

She finally stopped, but Satres kept his eyes on her anyway. Holding one hand out to keep her focused - and just in case she leaped at him again - he explained. "I do not have the food to feed you, nor the time to keep track of you until you can find a home."

"But I'll be fine with -"

"No, be quiet and listen." The raven waited for her to be quiet before continuing. "I am here to find a demon and take care of it. That means that I need to work on my own, and find it before it causes more trouble."

"But-"

"I said, please be quiet." She was starting to get very annoying, he thought. "You will be safe for a while. The other ponies will not come here until they are sure that I am gone. That gives you the time to find someplace to hide. Now, I suggest you do it." He turned. "Goodbye."

"But-"

"I said. Goodbye."

Satres shook his head as he started walking away. The girl was sputtering, and he had little doubt that she was upset. But she needed to learn how to take care of herself, and he couldn't be there to teach her. He had to find the demon here.

He made it about three steps before he was tackled from behind.

As soon as he hit the ground, he rolled, but the female was still on top of him, and she had a surprising amount of strength; despite how much he squirmed beneath her, she was holding him down strangely well. Her empty looking eyes gazed into his, and he suddenly felt afraid. Very. Afraid.

"You are going to listen to me!" the little female said, holding him down, her voice almost buzzing in intensity. "I don't need your food; I don't need any special protection. I can keep up with you, and all I need is for you to let me feed every night when you stop."

He was surprised at the calmness of his voice as he answered. "Feed?"

"Feed." She nodded. "I am a changeling. I feed on love, but I like to eat other things too." She paused, looking back over her shoulder. "And you have quite a bit to eat there, you know; nothing that you need, and you'd look better if you let me feed on it."

"On what, exactly?"

"On the dirt and sweat on your feet, of course; what do you think I mean?"

So far today, his eyebrows had gone up several times. This time, they nearly flew off of his head. "You...can't...be serious," he said. His feet were filthy by this point; he'd been running barefoot all over this land, not to mention the fact that his feet had been sweating through the yellow 'scales' on his toes. He was barefoot everywhere he went, and even though he stepped where it was mostly clean, he was sweaty as hell down there. And she wanted to lick it clean?

She nodded. "And you know what? I'm going to prove it to you."

"Wha-wait-"

Satres didn't have the chance to protest any more than that before the changeling leaped off of him and grabbed hold of one of his ankles. With the grip that she had around the base of his leg, the only way that he could have gotten her off would have been to kick her in the face, and despite the way that she was behaving, he didn't consider that an option. He could only stare as the young pony-creature leaned in and pressed her nose against his foot.

She licked and nuzzled against the underside of his foot, licking up the thin center towards the three long toes. The feeling of her tongue along the dirty digits was oddly...soothing, in a way. Almost exciting, though he did his best to avoid thinking of it that way. This was a -

As the changeling licked at his foot, Satres was shocked to see a green flame flicker around the creature. In a second, it went from being a strange mix between pony and bug to being an exact replica of a young filly from the town. Of course, that filly hadn't been so scantily clothed, and he could see one nipple through the ragged clothing that the changeling wore. Thankfully, anything below the waist was still obscured.

"I told you," she said, her tongue flicking over his foot again, sliding between the toes in a way that made him clamp his beak shut to keep sounds of pleasure from slipping through. "I'm a changeling. I can look like anything...like anyone."

He tried to focus on the implications of that knowledge, but it was hard to focus on anything the way that the changeling kept licking at his feet. She was relentless, licking away the light coating of dirt that it had picked up during his walk, and soon going to town on the more settled dried sweat and musk that clung to his talons. She grimaced slightly at first, but it was clear that she was enjoying it; at least, that was what he assumed, the way that she was grinning with her eyes closed.

As for him, the foot licking was getting to him more than he would like. This was a little girl, he kept telling himself. No matter how strange, she's still too young.

But...

The raven had had a foot fetish for most of his life. He'd never really gotten any time to indulge it, and as a monk, he'd taken a vow of...not quite chastity, but never anything kinky like this. The experience of having someone so eagerly licking his feet - something that he'd imagined many times - was quickly getting a reaction, and making him wish that his robes weren't quite so clingy.

It didn't take long for her to notice his bulge, either, and he blushed as she took one hand from his ankle and grabbed him by his crotch. "Mmm...for my rescuer...you know I'd do anything," the changeling said to him, a smile crossing her face. "I feed on love...and lust is a most potent form of love."

"I will not do anything to you," Satres said, somehow managing to keep his voice even. "You should go."

"Oh, is this not a pleasing enough form for you?" the changeling asked him. She giggled, kissing each of his toes before letting go of his foot. She stood up, posing with her hands over her head, snow white body on display to him. "Do you not like this filly form?" She burst into fire again, and this time re-appeared as a red colored filly, a bit bustier, to the point where her breasts lifted the shreds of clothing along her chest, and showed off her nipples and the curves of her breast even more.

She had curvier hips, too, Satres saw, and he went bright red at the ripping sound that filled the air, the last resistance of the cloth around her waist giving way. Her slit was exposed to him as it hit the ground, and he groaned to himself, looking away.

"Oh, don't look away, my rescuer," she said, rushing to stand in front of him again. "Do you not like females? Is that it?"

"No, no, just -"

"Because if you don't like fillies..." She flashed again, and Satres groaned as she changed once more. The fire consumed her female form, and left behind something very male.

"Maybe you'd like a colt?" she, now he, asked, stroking the soft cock that hung low. It started to harden before the raven's eyes, and despite himself, he wasn't going soft. "I can do anything for you, my rescuer...be anyone...be anything."

Oh gods, the temptations were getting worse and worse, particularly as the changeling turned around. The colt form she'd picked had a large, curvy rear, almost feminine in a way, and when the 'colt' bent over, the cheeks spread just enough to show that tight hole between.

The whole thing was driving him nuts, and Satres had to almost sit on his hands to avoid groping himself.

Looking over his/her shoulder, the changeling giggled. "I can tell you want me...I can feel it." Once again, she shifted, and she was back to the changeling form. She walked over to him, her bare feet sliding along the ground, and she only stopped when she was standing between his legs.

Lifting one foot, she pressed it down on his bulge. Immediately Satres's eyes went wide, and his cock throbbed in his robes against her foot. It leaked pre against the yellow cloth, and he shuddered in pleasure as she ground her little, dirty foot against his bulge. The raven laid there as she teased him, and was more or less pinned as she leaned over him. "You know you can have me...that you can fulfill all your needs...just let me come with you. I'll give you anything, everything that you want...and you just let me lick your feet and stay with you, feed on your love...That's a good deal." She pushed down on his bulge, her toes wrapping the cloth of his robes around his cock head, making him moan audibly. "That's a good deal, isn't it?"

He had to admit, the deal was better than he'd thought; the changeling had a lot of knowledge, it seemed, more knowledge than he'd expect something this young to have. And it...it might be helpful to have another set of eyes to watch for the demon, he had to admit; it would help him. Not to mention that demons were often fond of seduction techniques; if he had her to help him, he wouldn't be so...eager...when he found the demon.

Shuddering as she shoved her foot harder against his cock, nearly shoving him over the edge, Satres forced himself to speak up. "You...go back to licking my feet," the raven managed to say. He moved her foot back with a small push, one that almost knocked her off balance. "We'll talk...talk later about other things you want to do for me."

"Hehe, that's fine for me," she said. And doubtless it was, Satres thought as she got back to his feet, lifting one up by the ankle and shoving her face against it again; she was getting what she wanted, and then some.

He managed to pull himself upright again, sitting rather than laying down as she worked on his feet. Her tongue dragged along the scaly undersides of his toes, and she even pulled his talons into her mouth, sucking on them and cleaning them one by one. She even bobbed along them, giving him looks that suggested she was more than willing to do this to other parts of his body.

All the while, his cock throbbed inside of his robes, and he had to keep sitting on his hands to keep from grabbing hold of his cock and teasing it, rubbing it, giving it the attention that it wanted. He couldn't, however, stop himself from moaning.

She seemed to like that, and pulled back from his foot to chuckle. "Oh, you like having little old me lick your nasty feet, don't you?" she said with a smile. "You like having me lick all this dirt and sweat and junk off of feet and between your toes? You like knowing that little me is giving you the foot cleaning that you've needed for so long?"

He shuddered, his cock leaking more into his robes, a wet spot spreading further by the second. "Gods help me...yes, I do."

"Mmmm, well I love tasting your feet," she said. She moved over to his other foot, having finished cleaning the first, and started licking over the underside. "Mmm, you let them get so dirty...do you always walk around barefoot, mister...uh..."

"Satres," he said, giving her his name. "I, uh, do. It is a thing for me."

"Well, you better keep doing it; I can taste weeks of sweat on these feet, and you have so much cleaning that you need done between your toes," she said. She leaned forward, dragging her tongue between two of his toes, and the raven groaned at the feeling of that wet, warm tongue sliding between them. That felt...so much better than it should. "Mmmm, sweat...musk...even a bit of hot crunch from -"

"You don't have to tell me," he said with a blush, shaking his head. "Just...just keep licking."

"Heh, no problem, Master Satres."

"Just...Satres."

"No...it's Master Satres," she said with a smile. "And don't argue that. Just let me enjoy this."

"Alright..." the raven said after a moment of hesitation. They would discuss it later, but he didn't think that it was worth it at the moment, particularly as his cock was just on the verge of exploding with cum. He had never cum from having his feet licked...but then again, he'd never had them licked this eagerly before, either, and he'd never indulged his fetish properly.

And she was licking him like mad, moaning all the while as her tongue slipped over his feet again and again. It was slightly muted at first as she had to lick through the light layer of dirt, but when she got through that, he could feel every bit of her tongue. Swiping across his toes and the bottom of his foot, it rapidly got his foot wet and slick feeling, and when he rubbed his toes together, they slid off of each other rather than just touching.

She moaned louder and louder the longer that she licked his feet, too, and he only just noticed that one of her hands had disappeared from his ankle. He cocked his head to the side, and saw that it had disappeared between her legs. His face lit up in a blush at that, but his cock throbbed all that harder as a result. It almost pushed him over the edge, knowing that she was pleasuring herself even as she licked at his feet.

Even after what had to be at least ten minutes of licking at his feet, she didn't stop, didn't ask for a break. Oh, she shuddered, but that wasn't from disgust or exhaustion; she was getting that close to her orgasm.

Satres watched in amazement as she suddenly went over the edge, pressing her face against his foot, her nostrils pressed between his toes while her tongue went wild along the bottom of his foot. The feeling of it, seeing her cum from licking his sweaty, dirty foot, and knowing just how much she enjoyed servicing him, finally put him over the edge as well.

He leaned his head back with a moan, his cock exploding inside of his robe in pleasure. The wet spot from his pre got much bigger, and he could feel the slimy strands clinging to his shaft, the robe becoming almost see through at his groin from how hard he released. Other times, he would have been embarrassed, cumming in his clothes, but today, he didn't care. He just felt good.

Slowly he came back to reality, and he saw that the changeling was grinning widely at him. A small groan slipped from his beak as he remembered her saying that she fed on love, and on lust, as well as whatever he might have on his feet. "This is going to take some getting used to," the raven muttered.

"Mmmm, only for you, Master Satres," the changeling said with a little giggle. "Maybe next time you'll take your robe off and let me help you properly."

"I doubt it," he said. She looked a little sad at that, and he hurried to explain. "I am a monk. I am supposed to not...engage...with others. Having you lick my feet and enjoy it as much as you and I did...that is really as far as I might be able to go. And when I have to go home after finding the demon, then I will need to stop that, too. They would not approve."

The changeling sighed softly, and Satres pulled himself to his feet. "Now, I need to keep looking for that demon. I suppose you can stay with me, at least for a while." He helped her to her feet as well, looking around. "Okay...where should I check?"

#

The day went by slowly, with the two of them walking all over the land of Equestria, but there was no sign of the demon that the raven chased. He got slightly frustrated with it over the day, but he always calmed down - at least temporarily - when the changeling got in a little closer. He stopped her from rubbing his crotch, but he let her be close, so that was something.

They made camp a little south of the Apple family acres, and the raven was quickly asleep on the ground.

She stayed up a little while longer, chuckling a little to herself as she looked at the monk. Doubtless, she thought, he was looking for Queen Chrysalis; she was the closest thing to demonic that most ponies would think of, and she couldn't think of what other people would describe as demonic in Equestria other than changelings like herself.

He said that he would be here in Equestria until he found and captured the demon. Well, she would just have to make sure that he never found the Queen until she was ready for him to do it. The raven was easy enough to distract, as long as she kept up teasing him properly. She'd never thought that a hunter would like her feet as much as she liked his, but it was a good arrangement, she thought; as long as she kept him happy, he'd keep her fed.

And what a feeding it was, for that matter. She patted her stomach, smiling to herself. There hadn't been that much pent up 'love' in any meal she'd had before, and she was looking forward to tapping into that 'love' for as long as she could.

Getting on all fours, she walked over to the sleeping raven. He looked exhausted from the long walk, and doubtless he needed his sleep. But she wanted another meal, and she was going to get it.

She doubted that she could get at his cock without waking him, but there was another source of food not that far from her. His feet were stained with the travels of the day, and she could see sweat drops running down the toes and the narrow bottoms of his feet. They needed to be cleaned. Tempting as it was to wait for the morning when he was awake to appreciate it, she had almost as much of a foot fetish as he did. Not to mention that it tasted wonderful to her, too.

Laying flat on the ground at his feet, she stuck out her tongue, dragging it along the yellow scales. Avian feet were so different from pony ones, she thought; they weren't so soft and giving, but they were much smoother. They didn't get calluses, she supposed, which did a lot for them. The claws were dangerous - and she had come close to cutting her tongue on one earlier in the process of learning that - but they added to the differences, the attraction of them.

Sighing in pleasure at the taste of the near-filthy musk and junk on his feet, the changeling settled herself down for a long night of cleaning and sniffing her new 'master's' feet.