Pyrite

By Lambent Ink Productions | http://furaffinity.net/user/lambentink

A faint, floral scent graced the tunnels of the demons lair, in contrast to the sharp, bitter tang which Lyra
might have expected. Just as gaudy, though: the salamanders sapphire-blue hand clutched to a
flickering torch, the light from which glinted off of walls of gold and precious gems. She expected that
most of it had been summoned there by the demon itself, rather than gathered from mortal sources;
still, shed have her answer after the avarice-beast laid dead. Anything it had summoned would
disappearnot including the cave system, thankfully, which it merely infested. Infest and redecorated:
all the natural beauty was obscured by the ostentatious display.

She had to resist the urge, on a number of occasions, to draw out the beast by setting the grant
tapestries and draping silk curtains alight; if they didnt disappear, shed never have to work another day
in her life. Knowing her luck, it seemed likely that shed set fire only to the real ones. Instead, she crept
along as quietly as she could, bare feet starting to ache from walking on the cobbled pathway of gems
and stonesit afforded her more stealth than the heavy trod of her boots. Not that she would likely
take the beast by surprise: her lantern had run out of oil sometime in the last few hours, leaving her with
only a torch to light her way. Evidently, the demon didnt need light to see.

Her golden eyes, however, did. The torch left a smoke trail behind her as she moved, and clearly marked
her presence. At the very least, she could use it as an improvised weapon; for now, it served the
necessary evil of illuminating the area around her. But then, if the demon could see in the dark, it
wouldnt matter in the first place. Having emerged from the tunnel into a wide cavern, she stretched the
burning stick ahead of herself, clutching to her small crossbow with her other hand, ready to fire it. But
all she revealed was an unusually square roomevidently walled in, rather than merely gildedwith a
thickly-carpeted floor and more cushions than she could count.

A number of particularly lewd murals had been painted on the walls, indicating luscious men and
women of a number of species, all dressed in gaudy finery and engaging in unspeakable acts. She
frowned, rolled her eyes, shook her head out, and dropped her torch with a cry of alarm, after taking
another step forward. Her foot sank down for at least fourteen inches, perhaps more, into a warm,
sticky substance, taking her hose with it, nearly up to the hem of her tunic. Bracing on either side of the
pit with her hands and her free foot to try to pry it out failed to assist: it was stuck as though by glue,
leaving her trapped and lopsided.

Shed had to set her crossbow down to free her hands for pushing at the floor, but her hand found only
the carpeted floor when she reached to pick it up. Growling in frustration, the salamander braced her
other bare foot on the floor againand it, too, sank into a warm, wet pit, to the same depth. Con-
found it, she muttered, rocking unsteadily as she tried to maintain her balance. By carefully adjusting
her center of mass, she managed to avoid falling over, standing triumphantly with her tail resting on the
carpet. At the very least, she still had her sword. She reached down her right hand to her left hip to
draw it, freezing when she heard the sound of metal scraping on metal from behind her. Her torso
twisted to try to look over her shoulder, shortly before a well-padded battering ram swung down from
the ceiling to hit her solidly in the back, knocking her forward from the waist.

Her arms naturally stretched forward to break her fall, but they only sank up to mid-forearm in more of
the sticky whatever-it-was that held her legs captive. Now trapped on all fours, rather compromisingly,
she wriggled in place, growling furiously at the carpet. However, the growl turned to a yelp and squeal,
instead, when she felt something rise from the ground to unceremoniously shove itself into her nethers.
The salamander wriggled in place, huffing and trying not to moan, as an enormous, almost gelatinous
shaft filled her tunnel, stretching it slightly. The base of it neatly cupped her groinand she realized, to
her horror, that the odd cup shape of the dildo had been covered in more of the sticky substance.

Indignation and fury helped strengthen her as she reared up angrily, managing to stretch out the goo
clutching to her wrists, and nearly stand, before it snapped back, bringing her along with it. Her flat
chest smacked the carpet, leaving her rump in the air. A panel in the floor slid open, allowing a spring-
loaded, wooden paddle to swat her ass painfully. She yelped again, glaring around the room and waiting
for her tormentor to show itself. It occurred to her only after a few moments that the chandelier
hanging from the ceilingwith diamonds dripping off of every possible surfacehadnt been lit when
shed first emerged into the room. However, now that she could see properly, she could make out all of
the lewd murals, the cushions and pillows coating the floorand a set of gilded cages, chains, and
torture implements on the other side of the room, as well as the only door in sight.

Demon! she bellowed, straining against the goo to no avail. Your deceit brings no honor! Come
forth, churl, and

But she found it difficult to continue her speech after a set of spindly, clockwork arms deftly grabbed her
snout, held it shut, and muzzled her. More of them wrapped a heavy collar around her neck, before one
with a sharp blade made its way toward her torso. Though she tried valiantly to free her handnearly
succeeding, she thoughtit was too quick: it deftly slit the tunic she had borrowed from her brother,
other arms working to neatly carve it off her body, leaving her with only her hose to provide her any sort
of modesty. In its place, the hands drew a translucent, purple cloth around her torso: it covered her
chest, but not her stomach, and was supported by thin cuffs that rested at her biceps, rather than on the
shoulders.

When she tried to pull her legs free again, she was rewarded with another cruel smack of the paddle
against her stinging rump, the wood cracking against her skin with a resounding thud. It brought tears to
her eyes and made her hiss within the muzzle, tail flicking in the air. More clockwork pincers grabbed
hold of it, keeping the base high, while a few more hands worked some sort of soft, snug fabric around
her hips, quickly sewing it shut on the sides. It girded her loins, but she couldnt stand the thought of
wearing something her enemy had selected for her.

Worse still was the prickling discomfort in her loins; she could feel her labia swelling unnaturally, starting
to press back against the clamp clinging to her groin. It made her hips squirm, and she bucked a few
times against the treatment, only to end up grinding her stiffened clitoris against the smooth rubber of
the dildo. But rather than growing wet as she might have expectedher clitoris engorged further,
growing longer, thicker, and plumper. So, too, did her labia: they began to separate further, each
developing into an ovoid shape. She realized with horror that she could no longer feel the device inside
of her stretching her out from the inside. It felt as though it had disappeared entirely, along with her
tunnel.

A golden chain wrapped around her waist, bringing with it a gauzy skirt of fine silk, the edges trimmed
with as many jewels as could be fit around it. A quick glance downward confirmed that the same was
true of whatever strange sort of top it had wrapped around her chest, matching the ridiculous
ostentation of the gem-encrusted collar. As if to further emphasize her status as a trophy, a purple veil
which, she noticed, did nothing to conceal her identitywas wrapped around her snout, covering but
not concealing the muzzle.

Her final attempt to pull herself free of the goo succeeded, though not in the way she had anticipated:
she reared back with a muffled growl of righteous indignation, and found that her hands pulled free as
easily as though the substance were water. The salamander flopped onto her back, landing in the soft
carpetfortunately, the mechanical arms and the wooden paddle had retracted as mysteriously as they
had arrived. She laid there for a few seconds before pulling her legs free and rolling out of the way of
the holes in the floor. Then, standing, she took stock of herself.

As she feared, a few firm yanks at her new clothing ensured that she could neither remove nor tear it.
The gems settled against her body rather heavily, in contrast to the feather-light, silky material that
comprised the majority of the garments. Her fingers felt over the skirt, then reached beneath to brush
across the odd, silky garment beneath. She could feel some sort of embroidery on the back, but couldnt
make out what the pattern was, by feel. However, by twisting her body as far as she could, and looking
out of the corner of an eye, she could see that silver thread spelled out BOYTOY on the back of the
purple briefs beneath the translucent skirt. Charming.

But not inaccurate, she soon came to realize.

When she felt herself stiffening against the rubbery cup attached to her groin, she tried to scream
through her muzzle, but managed only a sad whimper, instead. Rather than her womanly flower, she
was sporting an unimpressive manhoodfour inches of slender, stiffening prick and a pair of petite balls,
all trapped in that prison. From a woman in mens clothing to a man in womens clothingit made her
shudder. She still had her feminine build, but that was little comfort: her hips had always been narrow,
and now, she simply looked like one of the gentle tavern-boys.

A few wary glances around the room later, she crept carefully along, testing the ground with every step
before daring to place any weight upon it. The slick skin of her rump still tingled unpleasantly from the
earlier punishment it had taken, and she immensely disliked the damned sensitivity of her new
equipment. Her face flushed hot at the sudden realization that she was dribbling slightly, thanks to the
way her silky-skinned shaft rubbed up against the snug cup. It only became worse as she neared the
other end of the room, until she had to swing her hips oddly with each step to avoid making a mess of
herself. She hurried past the cages, despite their emptiness; however, they offered no assault against
her. Nor did even the vicious-looking implements nearby: they sat, inert. Lyra hesitated at the door,
before slowly reaching out to take the handle.

It fell off in her hand, and the door melted to the ground, leaving a small puddle of water at the bottom
of the golden wall.

She turned to flee, and found herself suddenly facing some sort of brass tube piping up from the ground,
as tall as she. It flared out like a sunflower at the edges, with inky darkness inside, blocking her path.
Before she could duck or dodge, it released a clinging mist which settled around her face, on her veil and
the straps of her muzzle, and going up her nostrils. Having accomplished its goal, the tube retracted
back into the floor, and the panel concealing it slid back into place. He wiped at the veil as best she
could, gaining a slick residue on her palms as a result.

She needed release, suddenly. More than anything. Her fingers reached down to squeeze and knead at
the squishy cup over her new shaft, kneading and stroking at it as best she could. Her thighs rubbed
together as she humped the air, whining and whimpering through her muzzle. But although the
gelatinous substance surrounding her shaft felt pleasant, it couldnt quite satisfy: she couldnt seem to
get enough friction going to finish the job, as it were. Her little balls began to ache for their need to
release, growing more insistent with every breath she took. But just before she despaired, she felt the
gelatinous substance sliding down her length, over her sac, between her legs, and then up toward her
perky rump.

A moment later, she could feel the cool gel slithering down into her sensitive pucker, starting to form a
phallic shape within her tunnel. As it solidified, it stretched, swelling fatter and plumper, rubbing and
stroking against those hot, snug walls. For her part, she sank to her knees, reaching beneath her skirt to
peel down the lip of her tight, silk briefs, exposing her aching meat. Her fingers wrapped around the
vein-covered shaft, pumping up and down along it, squeezing the base and teasing the tip. More pre
dribbled out from the unfamiliar head, helping her hand glide across the stiff cock.

Before she knew it, he was panting and groaning into his muzzle and veil, reaching back to grip the base
of the rubbery shaft wedged in his ass. He pumped it in and out, huffing hot breath through her nose
and working his prick in tandem. But even when he rubbed the tip of the rubber toy right up against her
new prostate, he couldnt seem to cum. He only became more desperate, grinding his cock on the
carpet, humping one of the cushions through his skirt, ravaging his own ass with the toy.

The answer came to him in a flash of inspiration: on all fours, girly ass high in the air with the artificial
shaft wedged in to the hilt, he crawled on all fours toward the nearest cage. The gilded bars werent
entirely comfortable against his bare knees and soft skin, but it was worth it to attach his collar to one of
the silver chains dangling from the back wall. The door slit shut behind him thanks to some unseen
force, a lock clicking into place.

Sure enough, it was all the impetus he needed: he knelt down with his ass in the air, shoulders to the
bars of the cage as his hand stroked from balls to tip just two more times. A moment later, blessed relief
overwhelmed him: he shot out a few strings of thin, but sticky cum, splattering across his skirt and
thighs, and enjoyed six seconds of heaven. A moment later, his golden eyes closed, as the salamander
waited patiently for the demon to come claim his newest toy.

If hed only brought a mirror, he might have noticed that his eyes changed color the moment he entered
the demons caves.