“Scorch?” Bucky peered around the forge. It was empty and there was no sign of Scorch. Bucky stood near the smelter and tried to control his rising panic. “Scorch?” Bucky trotted through the large space, heading for the doors. He knew that Scorch was around here somewhere, or he hoped Scorch was here.

He stepped through the doors and out into the night. A light dusting of snow was falling.

“Scorch?”

There was a poof of fire off to Bucky’s right and Bucky turned his head. “Scorch! Am I glad to see you… I need to talk to you.” Bucky blinked as he looked up at the big burning earth pony.

“What sort of talk are we having?” Scorch asked as he shifted into a minotaur.

“I need information,” Bucky replied.

“Hmm.” Scorch folded his arms over his massive chest. “What sort of information?”

“About demons… this is important.” Bucky looked up at the tall minotaur.

“Bucky, there are rules. I can’t just give that kind of information away. I have to be paid,” Scorch said in a low voice. “Something has to be given to me in exchange.”

Shaking his head, Bucky looked up at Scorch. “I might have absorbed demon essence… I could be in terrible trouble here, Scorch.”

The big minotaur scowled, reached up, and began to scratch his ear with his massive hand. “That is a problem. I suppose you want to find out if you are now infernal.”

“Yes!” Bucky cried in reply, dancing in place on his hooves. His stomach lurched and he felt a strong wave of nausea hit him.

“Lord of Winter… for my answer, I demand one snowball.” Scorch held out his hand.

“What?” Bucky went still and stared upwards.

“One snowball. You are the Lord of Winter. Snow is your hallmark, is it not? The very essence of what you are? I demand one snowball for an answer. Give it to me and I will give you something in exchange.”

His horn igniting, Bucky made a snowball, packed it, added a little more snow, and then placed it in Scorch’s hand. He watched as Scorch hefted the snowball, as if feeling the weight, and then, the snowball melted in Scorch’s fingers.

“Hmm, let’s have a look at you.” Scorch hunkered down, dropping low, and he grabbed Bucky in his hands. With one hand on Bucky’s back, and the other on Bucky’s neck, Scorch leaned in and sniffed Bucky. He pulled back his head, let go of Bucky, and stood back up.

“Well?” Bucky asked.

“You are, in fact, infernal,” Scorch replied.

“Oh no… that’s not good.” Bucky turned around in a circle, almost chasing his own tail, and he felt his stomach gurgle.

Standing still, Scorch held out his hand and waited.

Seeing Scorch’s hand out, Bucky froze in place once more, stared at Scorch’s hand, and then a dull look of recognition appeared in his eyes. He made another snowball and placed it in the palm of Scorch’s hand.

“You have to ask a question,” Scorch said, offering Bucky a bit of instruction.

“I don’t even know where to begin… tell me about demons… make me feel better about this somehow!” Bucky said in a frantic voice.

The minotaur nodded. “Very well.” He clenched the snowball in his fist and it vanished. “I am not actually a demon, even though I am called a demon lord. But I am infernal. I became this way over time. Demons are any number of beings that live in Tartarus or travel through various dimensions. Not all demons are evil. Some are actually good. The term demon is a broad classification fraught with perilous definition. Right now in Canterlot, one of Celestia’s dearest foalhood friends is visiting, and he is an actual demon. His name is Scorpan. Scorpan has become what some might consider to be an insufferable goody-goody. Being infernal does not make you evil. And if you took the time to think about your son, Rising Star, you would remember that he is infernal as well.” Scorch looked down at Bucky. “Feel better?”

“Not really, no. Still freaking out.” Bucky belched and grimaced at the bitter taste.

“Well, you paid me. I am obligated to make you feel better, or soon I will begin feeling indescribable anguish for going back upon my word.” Scorch’s face became a little worried.

“I am part demon… I don’t know how I should feel about this.” Bucky took a deep breath and filled his lungs with cold air.

“You are part demon only in the loosest sense of the word. Rising Star became an infernal fey, you’ve become a little infernal with a touch of demonhood. It doesn’t make you evil. Choice makes you evil. What you do. Scorpan roams the world, righting wrongs, fighting a good fight, and he believes himself to be some sort of paladin. He takes up noble causes. He will preach endlessly about goodness and virtue. You’ve already shown that you can deal with the temptation of power, so the extra power you have gained from this won’t corrupt you or make you any worse than you already are. You have the means to make this work for you. To make you better. To help you fight.” Scorch hunkered down once more and patted Bucky on the back.

“Thanks… I feel better… I think… I guess there are certain conclusions you jump to when you hear the word ‘demon’ and most of them aren’t good.” Bucky closed his eyes and felt his knees tremble as a powerful wave of nausea washed over him.

Scorch heaved a sigh of relief. “That’s a start, but I still feel obligated.”

“Will this affect my foals? I mean… the ones I make in the future.” Bucky opened his eyes and every muscle in his body tensed at the very thought.

Biting his lip for a moment, Scorch realised that Bucky was about to feel worse. “Yes. Yes, this infernal tinge will pass on to any future foals you have, but it will not make them bad, so you need to stop worrying, please, my friend, trust me when I tell you that it will be okay.”

“Will they be tempted into evil?” Bucky asked.

“Bucky, anything can be tempted into evil, infernal or not,” Scorch replied.

Bucky shook his head from worry, causing his tufted ears to flop around. “How will this affect them?”

Scorch shifted into a big earth pony and stood beside Bucky. “Your foals are already going to be interesting and face plenty of challenges… being infernal will be the least of their worries.”

“So it is really nothing to worry about?” Bucky asked.

“Really… I know it seems scary, but fear of the unknown is always scary. One of your foals might be born sinister… wooo… that’s a scary word when you first hear it… but being born sinister just means left handed or left hoofed or left taloned or left pawed. But it sounds scary when you hear it… you will have a few foals with an infernal streak. They'll be impish little buggers, but mostly because you are already an impish little bugger yourself, so you will never know the difference.” Scorch lifted his hoof and patted Bucky on the ribs. He felt his sense of obligation fading away into nothingness.

“I feel better,” Bucky said.

“I know.” Scorch smiled.

“So this doesn’t change who or what I am?” Bucky asked.

Scorch shrugged.

“Do I need to give you another snowball?” Bucky raised his eyebrow.

“No. I don’t know how to answer. You determine who and what you are.” Scorch sprouted a horn and became a unicorn. “Bucky… you had a pretty ironclad destiny set out for you. You rejected it. You made your own way and you keep doing things your own way and I’m not certain if there is much that can change who you choose to be.”

Belching again, Bucky shuddered from the bitter taste creeping up his throat and over his tongue. As he tried to ignore his churning stomach, he gave thought to what Scorch had said.

“Go be with your wives, you infernal scoundrel. They can do what I cannot.” Scorch lifted his hoof and pointed at the farmhouse.

“Thank you, Scorch… this means a lot to me.”

Bucky stood outside of his bedroom door and took a deep breath. He felt a lot better. He had belched out on the porch, and now the build up was out of his system. He was still itchy all over though.

He pushed the door open, crept inside, and shut the door behind him. There were several lumps in the bed, all bunched together under the blanket. He stood near the bed, sniffing, his nostrils flaring. The scent of mares flooded his nose. Floral shampoo and soap. Soft smelling perfume. The faint scent of candy. The minty scent of toothpaste.

He lifted the blanket and made ready to crawl in, but as he did so, he saw a hoof. It was Bon Bon’s hoof. Feeling perverse, feeling impish, Bucky lowered his head, parted his lips, and then he dragged his tongue over Bon Bon’s frog.

There was a startled snort followed by a feminine voice asking, “What was that?!”

Bucky’s vision filled with white and blue stars. His ears filled with a ringing sound. He felt his knees going weak. He fell onto the bed, lost his balance, and then slipped over the side, tumbling down to the floor the floor below.

It was like licking Berry Punch’s hooves, but much, much stronger. Bucky lay on the floor and giggled as the stars zoomed around in his vision. He felt the whole room lurch and the floor rolled beneath him.

“Bucky?” Bon Bon looked down over the edge of the bed at Bucky, her mane spilling down over her face. “Bucky, you dirty little hoof licker, you scared me…”

For a moment, Bucky saw three Bon Bons. It left him feeling a little aroused. You could have a lot of fun with three Bon Bons and all those hooves.

“Bucky, are you okay?” Bon Bon asked.

Waking up, Berry Punch asked, “What’s going on?”

“Bucky licked my hoof and now he is lying on the floor giggling,” Bon Bon replied in a low whisper.

“Hey, I want my hooves licked.” Berry Punch’s voice was a soft, silken sound in the dark room, now filled with the hint of need.

In the darkness, Derpy yawned and then smacked her lips. “Go back to sleep.”

“Bucky licked my hoof!”

“Bucky, stop licking Bon Bon’s hooves and go to bed.”

“He’s on the floor, giggling like mad after licking my hoof.”

“He’s probably drunk. Pull him into the bed and let’s go back to sleep.”

With a grunt, Bon Bon slipped out of bed and tried to scoop Bucky up off the floor. She stood over him, trying to get her foreleg around him, but he squirmed away. Worried that she might step on him, Bon Bon lifted her right front leg and her left hind leg, and then Bucky yanked on her left front leg.

Bon Bon toppled down on top of Bucky. She felt his legs wrap around her neck and pull her in. A moment later, they were lip locked, muzzle pressed to muzzle, and Bon Bon closed her eyes as Bucky’s tongue traced over her lips in slow, lazy circles.

As the kiss intensified, Bon Bon’s hips bucked forwards and she felt a moist heat in her nethers as parts of her dragged over the soft flesh of Bucky’s groin and belly.

With a gasp, Bon Bon pulled away, but lingered close, her snoot just a scant inch from Bucky’s, and she could feel his hot, wet breath blowing over her heated lips. Extending her tongue, Bon Bon licked Bucky’s lips and his snoot, a slow teasing lick, and the tip of her tongue doubled back to linger against Bucky’s lip once more.

Getting up, Bon Bon shook herself, feeling more than a little aroused, and she pressed her front hoof into Bucky’s barrel. “Get into the bed… you dirty little hoof licker.”

Author's Notes:

Aw... the chapter was just getting interesting too...

One day, I might have Bucky likc a typo.