(Disclaimer: During an early portion of this story I mischaracterize the character of Mona since I misunderstood a portion of her character. Around the halfway point of this story I acknowledge this mistake and address it. I sincerely apologize and promise to read wiki’s the whole way from now on before writing. Also, this version of Mona also hates NFTs.)
When times were tough one should tighten their belt. That meant never paying any mind to how luxuries slowly vanished from one’s days or how fortune seemed bleaker and survival ever more imposing. Subsistence on not nearly enough coins to even fill a palm seemed nearly impossible. It took Mora to fill bellies, and Mona was a woman who did not have all that much.
Coin came rare when fortunes were decisively… blunt. Patrons came from afar for what they were told would be incredibly accurate predictions of their futures. And of course, every single fortune Mona gave was stooped in the utmost truth. If the man seated ahead of her was destined to stub his toe on every table’s foot or lose his lover to a better, fairer person well then it was duty; She was bound by contract to her connection to the stars’ and their sway over destiny. The problem? No one wants to pay the barer of bad news. Don’t shoot the messenger, but apparently don’t feed her either!
Mona was splayed out across the floor in a steep daze from hunger and dejection. Her belly roared through her malaise and her eyes stared at the ceiling to turn the patterns in the wood into a map depicting her solution. She ignored the gentle pitter patter of her leaking ceiling. “This is foolish…” She said to her best friend, the ceiling beam. “They want the future but not truly. But were I to embellish or lie then what sort of seer would I be?” She knew it in her heart. She was an amazing fortune teller and a fully capable mage. To be degraded so… “Ugh… Horses eat better than I do…”
And in that moment… a terrible thought.
She returned to her home a few minutes later with her coin purse still rattling, a rare occasion after a grocery trip. Grunting and strained, she had slung a large sack of oats over her shoulder and heaped it into her chambers. The boards groaned at the sudden strain of carrying the hefty weight of the food. “All of this… for a mere few Mora!” Mona felt at least a tad pleased at her ingenuity. “The livestock really do eat for cheap. And their food is nary that different from what it is us humans eat. A few sorts of oats: Fauna I am certain that I too can eat. A few rough breeds of corn that Mondstadt actually grows themselves. If my query with the farmer rings true then certainly this is suited for human consumption just as well…”
Now it seemed the only remaining hurdles were the psychological sort. You can lead a girl to a trough, but to get her to actually eat horse feed on her own will was… A touch difficult. She had dressed her table with a cloth and laid a dish atop. She went to lift the bag again and found she was still exhausted from the original trip back to her abode. She laid the dish on the floor to make the journey less intensive but that only made the act more demeaning. Instead, she ripped open the bag at the top and filled a mug with the feed.
She was a touch frustrated to find that alongside what she considered to be quite edible chunks of oats and corn there was also these little dry miniature bunches of hay and grass which crossed the line as far as her manners were concerned. Her little mug of feed was painstakingly picked at until the less desirable and far more animalistic bits were torn aside and she was left with what was considered the prime materials. They were poured into her bowl and mixed with a little honey left over from her lest venture out into the fields and a few sliced apples. She heated it over a fire and began to eat.
It wasn’t too bad. The honey made it easier to eat everything together. The corn was of much lower quality than what she was expecting from corn. Very dry and nearly tasteless with a dusty barren texture that was on the cusp of crunch but always falling attentively short. Just enough that her teeth felt the grit of the little crackling packages but never the satisfaction. She swallowed each mouthful and savored the little crispy juicy parcels of apple over the bland oats and the corn. But, on the bright side of her plans, when her bowl was empty she was actually feeling quite full. And of course, with a full belly on record low Mora investment she felt quite proud of herself.
“Hah! And to believe I was actually paying twice as much for mere succor.” Yes, she did feel proud of herself for this. Every spoonful of doctored up horse feed seemed like another triumph over the tyranny of her meager wages and critical clientele. And for the first time in a while, she went to bed on a full stomach. Her eyes closed like gentle feathers touching down on the floor. Sleep came sweeter than it has before.
In what must have been a dream…
She walked forward on all fours. Immediately her subconscious mind knew why. It was the only way to eat. The trough was ahead. Her head pushed between the others and filled her mouth with as many oats and mouthfuls of hay she could get. Flat teeth mashed and ground against the plant fibers until they were worn and snaking down her throat. She ate her fill and returned to the fields, swaying and bare in the sun. She felt placid and content. A field and fence for her and all the feed she’d ever desire. All that she could eat—
Her eyes sharply awoke in what wasn’t a dream.
Aggravated by her slumber’s visions, Mona pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration and an attempt to awaken herself fully. “Heavens why on earth did I dream that?” Did the standard she had fallen to really do such a number on her psyche that she was degrading herself in her dreams now? She couldn’t deny the peace of her dream or the satisfaction of her full belly whilst off dreaming but still it was the content on trial not the context or emotion. Perhaps the culprit of her nightmares was the gurgling sounds from her stomach. It appeared oats were hardy and tasty but not quite the miracle food enough to get her into the morning without dreams centered around eating more. She would come to terms with her decisions later, for now she needed to get started on her day. And she would start with eating something else…
The Mora that lined her purse was not nearly enough to be very loose and free with money, but it was enough she could give herself a breakfast of a more human variety before eating from the desperation reservoir again. She blew a raspberry at the horse feed sack as she crossed it on her way out the door.
Heels clicked on the cobblestone of the city proper. Mona swayed her hips and wore her flaunting mystical attire freely. She drew eyes to her skinsuit and radiant and mysterious magical attire. Entirely so, that was the intention. All beheld the seer in awe and marvel as her beauty matched her enigmatic talents. Were times to grow desperate maybe her swaying shade giving hat would go or her fur lined cape or golden thigh coils… But for now they were equal parts tools of her trade as a hatchet to a lumberjack.
Fresh baked bread wafted its scent through the freedom winds and drew Mona over without any hesitation. “Good morning!” Beamed the elder who stocked the bakery anew. Mona gave back a smile.
“Morning. I’ll take your, um, cheapest please…”
“Oh, haven’t you been eating, girl?” The bakery woman shook her head. Scolding but empathetic. She handed a hearty loaf over and took Mona’s coins and then split them in half and returned the share. “Here. Please take care of yourself dear.”
“Oh, no no! You don’t need to—”
“Now don’t protest! I know what I’m doing.” The old woman wouldn’t hear anymore. Mona thanked her and left the store with a loaf warming her arms. As she left the store she awkwardly stumbled and tripped over herself.
She landed face down on the cobble and nearly lost the bread, though she was cradling it like it were her child. “Ugh… Why did…?” She peered back only to find that her golden heel had broken. She groaned loudly and quickly took each shoe off and stubbornly stood back up. “Great… just great. And any cobbler worthwhile will charge Mora more than I make in a month…” She grumbled and made her way back home with no other errand in need. No clients were lined up for the day either so her only succor would come from either walk-in curiosities and of course the mind damaging demeaning bag that laid in the corner of her home…
Her walk back to her home felt a touch heavier than typical. Perhaps it was the loaf she carried or the stagnation in her body from skipping meals over the past… as long as she could recall. Fair to say ever since she moved in to this windy city she’d been pinching coins tighter than caps on a bottle. She clicked her feet on the wooden floor of her abode and laid back in her chair, waiting…
All the while she nibbled at her bread, tearing little chunks away. If she had money for butter she’d surely have added it to help. The bread was fine but was lacking in flavor. Maybe the woman had actually handed her a cheaper loaf after all.
The wait was long and the chair was uncomfortable. A donation from the bar that withstood time but didn’t comfort her passing of time. She itched at her thighs as she passed the time. The clock ticked. It tocked. It betrayed no second.
Itching away, Mona was absent minded. She rubbed and scratched at her thighs, at two little spots above her crotch on her stomach. She even dug her fingers in against her crotch. Her fingers lit like matches struck against her crotch. Her eyes lowered lightly. She idly munched on bread in her mouth with flat, herbivore teeth.
Nails raked across the tight material of her scrying attire. She grunted against her will at a pocket of relief she pulled at. “Like a beast…” She muttered, scolding herself for how she was aligning with that horrible dream. She didn’t notice as two protrusions on her lower stomach grew, demanding more of the nylon like material that cladded her body. She didn’t notice how her nether seemed to bloat with the wont she swelled with every finger stroke. And nary did she notice the most intrusive construction of a simple tower beginning to crawl upwards into the air, pushing out against both the body suit material and the more restrictive dress she wore over top.
Her belly rumbled still. Was the bread not enough? She turned and saw so little of the loaf remained and to keep eating at it would be heinous. That was the expensive food that should be rationed and enjoyed. When she had even a smidge of butter it would be better…
She rose from her seat. She was unsteady on her unmoving toes as they merged tight into the same sturdy material that had broken her heels. Clip clop. The sound was odd but she just wanted a bit more… She filled her mug and that went into her bowl and she ate. She had forgotten to get rid of the hay in her haste but found that it tasted fine in this occurrence. Tighten your belt. Advice that beckoned the poor to strive for poorer. Behave more of your station and reduce yourself to even grass you classless peon. Still, critique herself as she might, if she could squeeze even more calories out of this investment most bizarre…
Every bite ground more nutrients from the feed. In her seat those growths on her stomach grew heavier until they were big enough to be noticed. She turned her head down whilst chewing. Between her legs were now a pare of… big… ballooning mounds? Her passing knowledge of marehood anatomy wouldn’t be brought up immediately in her panic but when she saw the hooves and felt the lack of canines in her mouth…
“N-no!” She realized it too late! “This can’t be?! From mere feed? I’m turning into a—”
Ring ring~
She turned her head and sat back down in a rush. Through those fabled doors came the cryptid known as the customer. Rare as they were, they were also easily startled and impermissibly easy to irritate. And it seemed they also possessed an incredible sense of time as Mona tackled what could only be called a species crisis.
“H-hello, and good tithings to my… er…” Her thighs rubbed awkwardly together. She felt those mounds push up closer with sensitive tips that rubbed up against the material of her attire. New flesh was more abuzz and more easily irritated. Her face flushed red as the cogs in her brain were webbed with pesky flashed of lust.
The customer was a woman of fair beauty. Short blue hair and a maidenly flowing dress. She was a typical beauty of these farm filled lands. Mona regarded her carefully, already feeling a few strands of destiny come to her. “Ah, hello! You are Mona, yes? The contributor to The Steambird’s constellation section?”
“Yes, that would be me…” Mona says carefully.
“I understand you have begun doing a few small readings for money? Well, I’d very much like to get one.”
“Ah, yes, yes, it is just important that when you pay it is phrased as a tip for the um, the quality of my articles,” Mona said carefully. She had always considered herself above taking payment for her readings. At least, that is what the wiki says. It seems some corruption had taken root in her far before the first paragraph of this absolute rag. Anyways.
“Then by all means!” The woman smiled and took her seat in front of Mona. If only she knew. “I would love to see my future if you would be so kind as to help me see it!”
Mona was struggling to keep herself put together. The groan of her attire trying to contain the changes sounded expensive. How her hooves hadn’t pierced the nylon was beyond her understanding. She scooted her seat forward in closer… Making her new mare breasts bounce… making that ominous tower betwixt it all wobble and grow more sensitive… and bring to her attention some other malignity as of yet unaccounted. The flush on her face was flu red.
“Let us… see.” She adorned the table with the materials of her future sight. She regarded the golden catalyst carefully. The truth would come to her if only her own vision would stop being clouded by these material images.
But what she saw made her eyes widen.
It was this women before her bent over at a stable. Her dress was hastily hiked up. And from the corner of the frame emerged a beastial and steaming… extremity of behooved and hooved animal. The pink molted crown pushed between her cheeks with familiarity. The woman chuckled as if a lover were teasing her. She muttered sweet encouragements. The beast was nervous. But it pushed in more at her behest.
Mona’s hands were at the tower between her legs. It was grown enough now to appear in the window of her dress and strain and flood the nylon. She felt the pre nectar slobber down its length and be clad condom tight across her belly.
“Well?” The woman asked, unable to see such growth behind the veil of the shadows and the turning table of fate. “What do you see?”
Mona knew that she had to tell it true. Any hesitation will have her lose her ability to determine fates. She was pushing things far enough already turning her talent to monetary benefits; She couldn’t afford to stray any further! But this vision was affecting her… far too much. “I see you…”
“Yes?” The woman leaned in closer.
“You are in a barn. You have… disrobed.” The woman’s brows perked in curiosity. Mona continued, “It appears for reasons beyond the scope of my vision or diagnosis you have come to crave the animal kingdom and its courts of pleasures.”
“What are you inferring?” The woman seems to get irritated already at the notion. “Are you saying I’d take one of my animal’s to bed? Surely you must be jesting. I own a farm but not the desire!”
Mona groaned more. The vision kept growing lewder in her mind, watching the irritated woman’s face scowl at her for the vision compared with, eyes rolled back in pleasure, squealing with oh so ecstasy. What a delightful contrast~ Mona squeezed her spire tight. It oozed and vibrated in want. Her hand rode all the way down to the base and felt the growing of these new, more sensitive bulges in the loin of her leotard. Malehood had taken shape in a hefty, growing sack. The feed laid in the corner, contemplatively silent to the chaos it seemingly brewed.
She bit her cheek and forced out the words. “And yet I see you… with a prize stallion. Bent. You encourage and orchestrate, directing every motion like a zoophilic conductor. And you take great strives your steed heeds your spots and mark when its much too big endowment strikes especially strong and heavy. Your gut bulges with it and your throat bellows—”
“You have said quite enough!” The woman crossed her arms, defiant. “I would never, in a million years, ever—”
Mona’s smug look was stricken away as a sudden veiny pulse BURST her body stocking down the center. Her horse cock, grown far too fat and energetic, had broken the seal. It THWAPPED heavy across the table and spilled a musky ocean of pre that splash on the bosom of the woman across from her. Mona gasped with glassy eyes and drooling corners of her mouth. “Forgive me! I… I do not know what malady strikes me or hex or whatever it may be, I just…” She gasped sharply for air, staring down at what a thing she had become. Her cock was heavy and dark as the night sky with a few molted golden stars laid across it. Her balls were fat and just as black as her shaft. “I will… accept if you wish to leave without—”
The woman grasped at the cock without a word. Mona moaned. Carefully, the woman looked it over and gave it a stroke, perhaps welcome rebuttal after Mona’s teasing outburst. “This is…” She looked Mona dead in the eyes. “I’ll pay you triple if you let me ride it.”
Mona… raised her brow now this time. “Pardon?”
“Triple. I’ll pay you fairly and very generously if you will let me take this. Your vision was… exciting me, I hate to admit it. Perhaps you do hold your finger close to the pulse of destiny, or maybe you don’t. Either way, your curse has equipped you well to answer your own question. So, do we have a deal?”
“Of… of course!” Mona puffed out her chest. “Did you maybe consider I had prepared such an instrument in order to prove my vision true? A fortune teller of some report such as myself is prepared to not just share our seerly visions, but also prove them.”
A heavy sack of Mora was laid on the table. The woman squeezed at Mona’s heavy sack. She climbed on to the table and spread her legs wide. “Please… go right in, just nice and easy…” She coaxed Mona jut the same as she did the horse in Mona’s vision.
Mona pushed inside without any familiarity but with a growing desire to learn. The fit was tighter than she could imagine in contrast to how easily the vision version of this maiden had taken the animal. Grunts filled the room as Mona hilted all the way inside. The woman’s stomach was bloated with the distortion from the insertion. Mona felt her heart flutter. She leaned in and squeezed the woman’s shoulders for support.
Back… and forth. The table creaked cheaply at the growingly boisterous thrusts. Mona found herself becoming accustomed to the veins of pleasure that were overwhelming her mind. This member was equipped with a new entire table of hormones unfamiliar to her mind and quickly and vastly overwhelming all her old desires. The need to thrust into this woman and breed her like a mare overwrote all other wants and needs and took over her world. Her hips moved with growingly desperate displays. At first it was curiosity that drove her shaft forward, grunting weakly and moaning. But then it was want that overtook her and made the table creak and groan at the punishment. And over all of that was a blanket of utterly overwhelming desperation that lead to a thrust and a loud CRACK as the table split and the legs buckled. Mona scooped her client up and hoofed her way over to the wall. She slammed her back against the wall and held her high and kept thrusting. NOTHING would tear her away from her thrusts. Stopping was a nightmare.
And then she came.
Oh the rush that overtook her was a sudden gale of song and pleasure. Her knees buckled and tears strained themselves from the corners of her eyes. Her tongue rolled out like party streamers and her eyes rolled back as they suddenly grew too heavy. Mona fell backwards, dodging the shards of wood and landing amongst the spilled Mora from the coin sack as it fell to the floor. The pair fell asleep entangled.
And what was surely a dream followed.
Mona finished her feeding from the trough, satisfied and full belly again. A voice beckoned her. “There you are? Have you enjoyed your meal?”
Mona smiled and nodded her head. “A touch degrading, but I’ll confess it does please me to share equal parts pleasure and a few… frugal moments. Though make no mistake, I partake this far only for my research into your fate and nary any a moment longer.”
“Of course,” The woman came into the view. The selfsame farmhand who came to have her fortune told. She dug her fingers into Mona’s marehood from behind. The astrologian, still on fours, moaned and bucked backwards into those fingers. Deprived of her pride, she bashfully looked away. “Not a moment longer… Now… our next session?”
When Mona awoke she realized that her dreams had been her own future.
She also awoke with a newly fledged addict of horsecock with a shockingly heavy coin purse eager to pay her for weekly… bi-daily visits.
She was about to become a proper work horse.
Fin.