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It isn't. Not all of it, This little otter came close enough to the King that he now belongs, entirely to the King. So much so, we had to do away with that stupid form of his. Replace it with something way, way better.\n\nHe is now and forever will be, my Clone~ \n\nBut, don't take my word for it ;)\n\nDarkmon © Me\nKeane / Keanemon / Story © http://www.furaffinity.net/user/keane/\nArt © http://www.furaffinity.net/user/achiga\n\n[center]A Mirror Darkmon[/center]\n\nThe rhythmic crashing of waves against jagged rocks accompanied ringing in the ears as the first sensations Keane felt upon awakening. The otter felt water rushing up to almost his waist before it retreated back to the sea in a never-ending ebb and flow. His head throbbed and his body ached, it took him a while to collect himself enough to even open his eyes. He was lying on an unfamiliar beach with his cheek planted firmly into the sand. In the corner of his eye he could see the splintered wreck of his boat, the last few hours suddenly coming back to him.\n\nHe had left his village days ago, heading south to visit another friendly tribe of otters. He did so almost every year and sowed his wild oats in as many of the males as his loins would allow. There was also some trade involved, though that was more of an excuse than a purpose. Typically, the route was sunny and ocean calm this time of year, but Keane had run into a rather potent storm that had formed on top of him without warning. It was all he could do to save himself and he worked as fast as his legs would allow him.\n\nHe knew he had to fold the sails up first, but he also knew if he kept one, he could use the wind to guide him out of the storm before the worst developed. He took the gamble, angling the sail just right to cut most of the wind, reducing the strain on the mast. He didn't exactly care the direction that he was taken so long as it headed out of that storm. It was working, too, until the wind suddenly changed and half of his boat was lifted out of the water with a powerful gust.\n\nThe mast snapped in half, one of the arms hitting Keane in the head. He would never know what happened after that, but he could peice together enough. The storm had tossed his boat around and pushed it towards shore where the rocks had torn the poor little ship apart. Keane was lucky to be alive and he couldn't help but smile at that, despite his situation.\n\nHe lifted himself up to a kneeling position and ran his webbed paw through his cheek. Sand stuck to his fur rained down onto the beach. He brushed off his side and belly as well before standing. Scanning the beach, he could see pieces of his boat littering the sands. There was also a crate off in the distance; one that Keane immediately recognized. It was his cured fish.\n\nThough his head felt like it was being squeezed in a vice, the growling in his belly seemed more pressing of a matter. He walked along the beach to that crate, glad to see it was mostly intact. The fish may have been a little wet, but the otter devoured it anyway. It was salty, flaky and as delicious as the first day he set sail, he would have to thank his brother when he manged to get home. It was only with a full stomach that he thought about getting home.\n\nAfter fashioning a makeshift pouch out of his loincloth, leaving the otter practically naked save for the vest he wore, he packed it with as much of the fish as he could and walked along the beach. He was flanked by the ocean on one side and tall cliffs on the other. There was no sign of civilization, but for all the otter knew, he could climb those cliffs and find a village just above. If he could find a suitable place to climb.\n\nThe sun hung low in the sky when he turned a bend on the beach and saw the stone, cylindrical towers of a castle in the distance, each capped with a conical roof. What got him the most excited, however, were the light shining through the windows of some of the towers. Lights meant that people had to live there, which meant he might find a way to get himself home. There was also a stone and wood dock with a pathway that lead to stairs acceding to the top of the cliffs. The sight lifted his spirits enough to pick up his pace, bounding up the stairs two at a time until he reached the top.\n\nThe castle was at the end of a long bridge, the guardhouses on either side were empty, though. Not that the otter thought anything of it. In his village, there were no guards even for the chieftain. He walked right passed them and over the bridge to the front door of the castle. He had never seen an entrance so big; it was almost two and a half times his height. Yet when he tried to open the door, it swung on its hinges feeling as light as the thin door on his own house.\n\nHe entered into a grand foyer, the stone floor covered in a soft rug. Its pattern was crimson circles outlined in pink and midnight blue, with four concave diamonds bordering the circle in the same crimson, but with a dark green outline. The pattern repeated itself over a field of bronze the edged tucked into themselves. On the walls were tapestries, or perhaps banners, each quadrant broken up into midnight blue, black, dark brown and orange; a golden “V” centered on the tapestries with a field of white behind it.\n\n“Hello?” Keane asked with a trill in his voice, calling out to any hidden figures that may be in earshot. He walked further into the foyer and peered around. Oak tables displayed expensive-looking vases and matching shelves held all sorts of nicknacks. He didn't dare walk over to either lest he be mistaken for a thief.\n\nNobody answered his call, nor the handful of attempts afterward; each louder than the last. Instead, he decided to venture further in and hope the occupants of the castle would be forgiving for his intrusion. He exited into a hallway, large arches on stood on either side of the wall opposite to him and as he walked by, he glanced one of the largest dining rooms he had seen. He could fit every member of his tribe around that table, and still have enough room left over to invite several of the other smaller tribes.\n\nThe next few arches were sealed with doors, none of them budging when he gave them a push. It was still too early for the occupants to be in bed, or at least he gathered that should be the case, but maybe there really was nobody there. Maybe the lights were automatic like the ones he saw in the big cities on the mainland.\n\n“Is anybody here?” He called out again, hearing his voice reverberate a bit. A noise caused his ears to perk up and he halted in his step. It sounded like a groan, and it was coming from the end of the hallway. He could see a set of stairs descending, curling in a clockwise fashion. He practically held his breath and waited for the next noise that he swore was a faint plea for help.\n\nKeane had a choice to make. He could leave the castle now and hope to come across a village before sunset, maybe even make camp along the road, or he could descend those stairs and investigate. The more sensible part of his brain told him to do the former but there was a more noble part of his brain telling him to do the right thing. It was a part that he strived to listen to his entire life and he wasn't going to go running now just because he was in a strange land.\n\nHe walked forwards and carefully took the steps downwards, spiraling around a stone pillar. It ended in a rather dark and forlorn room. It was lit by the flickering light of torches that lined the walls and on the far end were iron doors with small windows about the height of Keane's eyes. The room was furnished with all sorts of devices, most of which included restraints. It would have been easy to mistake this place for some kind of torture chamber, but the shelves of rubber toys in all shapes and sizes, sexual restraints that could fit big and small, and kinky clothing of just about every sort make it clear it was as sex dungeon.\n\n“Ah, finally, a visitor,” said a voice coming from behind one of those doors, “and perhaps you'll be kind enough to free me.”\n\nKeane stepped further into the dungeon, still eying the contraptions that sat on either side of him. One of them still looked to be covered in fluids and he wondered if they belonged to the deep-voiced figure on the other side of that door.\n\n“What's going on here?” Keane asked, keeping his voice low. He was surprised by the dark chuckle that he got in response, his brow furrowing and his eyes narrowing on that door.\n\n“It's it obvious, my dear otter? I suppose not.” The figure sighed audibly. “You don't look like you're from around here. Nor do you look dressed enough to be one of the King's guests.”\n\nIt was then that Keane remembered his nakedness. He was so used to running around his village sans clothing that he had forgotten he should cover up. He could also feel those eyes staring at him, at his maleness, and it made his fur itch. He took a step further, grabbing one of the torches before he approached the door.\n\nInside was a rather chubby looking dragon. It was a good thing the prison he was kept in was so large because he took up a fair deal of space inside of there. His scales were mostly grey, though his paws and feet, the tip of his tail, his horns and even the tip of his muzzle were a vibrant yellow. Between the grey and yellow, the scales changed color in a soft but steep gradient. Even his shaft followed that same pattern, grey at the base and yellow at the hooded tip. The sheer size of that shaft caught the otter's attention and it took him a moment to tear his eyes away.\n\nLooking into the dragon's eyes was unsettling, though. They were bright yellow and without pupils, making it difficult to tell exactly what the dragon was staring at. The way the fur on the back of Keane's neck stood up, though, he figured those eyes were directly on his. They glowed as well, creating a shadow around the dragon's eyes. The otter could feel his heart racing as he stared into them, unable to look away.\n\n“Who are you?” He asked at last.\n\n“I used to be the king of this castle.” The dragon said with a tinge of spite in his voice. “Until the Dark One came to depose me. Now I'm just a prisoner, one who wants nothing more than to be free of his accursed castle.” As the dragon spoke, he moved in closer to the door, staring down the otter with a smirk on his face. “Maybe you could help me. You look to be far from home and I would be willing to escort you back.”\n\nKeane didn't know what to think. On one hand, he only had the word of the dragon to go by. He had just met the male and he could not be certain about the verisimilitude of his claim. But then, if this place was a sex dungeon, why would its occupant be asking to get out? That was the part of the story that nagged at him. It was Keane's sense of nobility that made the decision for him.\n\n“What do you need to get out? I'm afraid I can't break the lock.” He glanced down at the rather sturdy and thick lock that held the door closed.\n\n“We will require the key, but the King keeps it on his person at all times.” The dragon said and his face got even closer to the small window. He peered out at Keane with those glowing eyes and they looked softer somehow. The dragon almost looked gentle. “You wouldn't stand a chance against him while he's awake, but luckily I have a plan.”\n\n“What's that?” Keane asked as he stepped closer.\n\n“I need you to fetch me my plush.” The dragon's lips curled when he saw the confusion on the otter's face. “Oh, don't worry little one, this isn't just any normal plush. With it, I can subdue the King long enough for you to snatch the key. It will be a breeze.” The dragon sounded pleased with his own plan.\n\nKeane thought for a moment, but he had already come this far. It didn't make sense for him to turn back. “Alright, I'll get your doll. Do you know where it's being kept?”\n\n“Of course,” the dragon cooed and stepped back from the door, taking a seat on the floor with those large balls acting like a pillow for his impressive cock. He couldn't help but notice the otter staring and he even adjusted himself. “It's in the storeroom at the top of this spire, kept in a small, blue chest. You just have to keep going up the steps and you'll find what you're looking for.”\n\nKeane watched as a thin, clear liquid drooled from the tip of that still-flaccid cock and over those gigantic balls. He then nodded and forced a smile. “Got it, I'll be back in no time.”\n\nBy the time the otter reached the storeroom at the top of the tower, he was huffing for breath. It wasn't that he was out of shape, though, but rather the trek had seemed almost endless. His legs burned and the pads were starting to get cold from walking on that bare stone, but eventually he stood in front of a large archway with boxes and chests lining the walls of the room beyond. In the middle of the room was a structure covered by a dusty cloth, the ends of which pooled around the base.\n\nIt was no taller than Keane himself and it aroused his curiosity. As he stepped into the room, his eyes scanned for the chest he was told would be there. As he walked around the object in the center of the room, he let his paw drag across the sheet. He kept a lookout for that blue chest. His paw brushed against a bulge in the hidden object and he paused, gripping the sheet before he gave it a tug. It flowed easily and spilled onto the floor, revealing a rather detailed statue underneath.\n\nIt was black and grey, the surface of the statue polished smooth and shiny. Two horns jutted out of its head with another small horn poking out of the tip of its muzzle. The statue was clearly of a male as the bulge Keane's paw had touched before was the well-endowed and engorged shaft standing proudly between the statue's legs. On its forehead was that same “V” pattern he kept seeing around the castle, inlaid with gold and yellow gems.\n\nAround back was a long, thick tail about the same size as Keane's, as well as a thick ass that seemed to fit the statue well. Both hands and feet had only three digits, each of them capped with a large claw. Keane had never seen a creature like this on any of his travels and idly wondered what it could be called. He hadn't noticed that his hand had gone back to that shaft, nor did he notice how warm to the touch it was for a piece of stone. He just gazed into those ruby eyes, swearing they were staring back at him.\n\nThen in the reflection of the stone, he saw a blue glint and turned his head, tearing his gaze from the statue. It was the chest that dragon had told him to retrieve. He turned and took a step towards it, but then felt something grab his shoulder and around his waist. He yelped and tried to break free, but the grip around him was far too strong. His head turned and he saw the statue out of the corner of his eye. It had moved from its platform and now had quite a the grin on his face. Those eyes glowed a brighter red and Keane couldn't help but stare into them.\n\n“The King doesn't take kindly to trespassers.” The statue said, his hand reaching around to grip the otter's cock and toy with it. “Especially the thieving kind.” It hissed.\n\n“Let...let me go!” Keane struggled against the grip and felt something slide under his tail. His ears folded back, his tail swinging wildly behind him until he felt the stone head of that shaft poke just under his tail. That was when those eyes started to swirl, and then the entire room began to spin. Or was it them who were spinning? Keane couldn't tell.\n\nHis cock grew in the grasp of the statue and he soon found himself pushing back on that stone shaft. Except, it didn't feel like stone anymore. Perhaps he had been mistaken all along. The material was soft, it was warm and it was pliable. As precum oozed from his shaft, the statue's hand started to squeak against the surface of his throbbing flesh.\n\n“What would be the fun of that?” The statue whispered into Keane's ear. “Besides, it looks like you're enjoying this. Now, moan for me, toy.” His hand gripped tighter around the otter's shaft and he trust himself forwards, burying his shaft inside of the intruder's ass.\n\nIn spite of himself, Keane lifted his head and groaned, his cock twitching. Drops of pre rolled out of the slit and onto the statue's fingers and dripped against the floor. Even when Keane closed his eyes, he could see those spiraling eyes in front of him. His tail wrapped around the statue's waist, pulling the thing against him as the statue's hips rolled in and out.\n\n“That's it, my little otter. This is just a taste of what the King will do to you should he find you.” The statue laughed and kept on humping that tight, hot ass. His hand stroked quickly over that throbbing otter cock around front, the combination of the two actions quickly driving Keane wild.\n\nThe otter panted, reaching back to grip that statue's soft, thick ass as he drove himself back against the shaft now pulsing inside of him. How something could feel so realistic was beyond him, but he couldn't stop. He had to keep going, had to get this statue off, he had to empty his own balls. He could feel himself getting closer, his balls drawing up against his body.\n\n“F—fuck, I'm so close. Just a little more...!” The otter cried out. Then the room stopped spinning.\n\nKeane opened his eyes and he was one his hands and knees on the cold stone floor. He was no longer being held by the statue, no longer being fucked by it. Yet he could still feel that familiar pressure in his ass that came from post sex, and he was still very close to the edge of orgasm. When he turned his head to look behind him, the statue was back where it had been and in exactly the same pose. How it had gotten back there so fast, and how it looked so solid now, was beyond him.\n\nThe otter had a more pressing issue to worry about though. He went to grab for his shaft and give it a nice tug, but he found it bound and flaccid. A stone cage had wrapped around his shaft, secured behind his balls. No amount of prying at it could break it free, but he also never seemed to come down from that pre-orgasmic high. He managed to get a claw between the ribs of the cage and stroke himself, his tail thumping hard on the floor behind him in frustration that he couldn't quite stroke hard enough.\n\nIn the end, he gave up and decided to stand, climbing up on one of the chests to reach that blue box he had came after. He plucked the plush figure from the box and examined it. It was grey all over and had nearly invisible stitching to it. Its shape lacked enough detail to determine what kind of animal the plush was supposed to be modeled after. Keane turned it around in his paw a few times wondering how this was going to help subdue the king long enough to snatch that key, but it was the only lead he had to go by.\n\nHe turned around and leaped off the case, leaving the blue box behind where he had found it in case someone should show up and find anything askew. He also picked up the sheet that went over the statue, covering it but always aware in case it decided to come back to life. With the room back the way he had found it, all that was left was for the otter to descend the stairs. His ears perked up and he swiveled them in every direction he could, hoping not to run into anybody else on his way back down to the dungeon.\n\nKeane tried his best to walk like normal when he descended the final few stairs into the dungeon. He could still feel a little bit of that warm, black cum dribbling out of his ass, but at least his mind felt less fuzzy. He also had the doll in his hand, meaning he was one step closer to getting himself home. At least, as long as the dragon was true to his word.\n\nHe had expected the dragon to be at the door, eagerly awaiting his return. Instead, all he heard was the dull roar of his breathing. What he didn't hear were the footsteps behind him as plush pads cushioned the steps of another male. Keane had made it almost half way to the prison door before he heard a voice and spun around.\n\n“What do we have here. A new plaything, perhaps?” A bunny stood at the door with his arms crossed over his chest. He had on a rather large smirk and a cocky look about him, but that was about all he was wearing. He was rather lithe, typical for a rabbit, but he had a thick ass and thighs that he was obviously proud of. Between his legs stood a throbbing pink member poking out from a small sheath, those walnut-sized balls dangling underneath.\n\nHe had pure white fur with splotches of black on his upper arms, his thighs and one of his shoulders. He also had that same yellow “V” he had seen on the banners and on that living statue in the storeroom. Minus the tall ears, the bunny was almost a head shorter than Keane, but he still managed to look imposing. Perhaps it was the leather straps around his biceps and the thick cock ring at the base of his junk, or maybe it was the crop he was wielding in his paw.\n\n“I,” the otter started, not sure of what to say, “seem to be a little lost, I was looking for the king to see if I could maybe get help with my ship.” He decided honesty was the right way to go about this, though he didn't offer up too much information.\n\nThe bunny just laughed. “And so you got the poor dwaggy's widdle doll?” The rabbit replied as though talking about a toddler. “Don't worry, rudderbutt, you'll make a fine addition to this dungeon.” With that, the bunny charged forwards.\n\nKeane dropped the doll on the floor and met the bunny with his own charge. He grabbed at the other male's shoulders as he approached and the bunny slashed a pair of pink lacquered claws at him which just barely missed his face. Keane's lips curled into a snarl and pushed the bunny back, but the rabbit ducked out of the way and tried to take the otter's legs out from under him.\n\nWith a quick turn, that rudder swung around and smacked the bunny against the muzzle sending the lapine back on his thick ass. Keane leaped out of the way as that crop was thrown at him, listening to it smack against one of the machines behind him as the bunny scrambled his way to his feet. He squared off against the otter and leaped at him once again, but Keane was much too large of a target for the bunny to take down head on.\n\nInstead, Keane grabbed the bunny's wrists and held them above his head. That was when the bunny brought his knee up and grazed the otter's junk. Keane growled, a rush of adrenaline making it far easier to push the bunny until his back hit one of the sex machines. It had a convenient place to lock the rabbit's wrists and then he only had to still those legs long enough to latch the ankles in as well. He barely even noticed the raging hard-on that throbbed in front of his face while he tied down the rabbit.\n\n“This is getting real fucking kinky, rudderbutt.” The bunny laughed and thrusts his hips at Keane who slapped the cock again. It only seemed to turn the bunny on a even more. “Fuck, harder!” He screamed at the top of his lungs.\n\nKeane stood up and grabbed a thick ball gag from off the wall behind the machine then stuffed it into the bunny's maw. He latched one of the straps behind his head before wrapping the other around his muzzle. Those red eyes staring back at him were full of lust, the rabbit's shaft dripping onto the floor. Keane just stepped away and grabbed the plush from off the floor.\n\nHe couldn't help but look back at the bunny, though. His rigged cock towering between his legs, throbbing and glistening in the torchlight. He could help the bunny out, just grab that shaft and pump it in his paw until he came. He already had gone this far in tying him up, he was nothing but a toy in the hands of a superior now. Keane blinked at that, not knowing where that thought had come from, but before went back to talk to the dragon, he pressed one of the buttons on the retraining device.\n\nThe hum of a motor sounded and Keane watched as a piston was raised behind the bunny. A thick, equine shaft poked at the bunny's hole and soon slid its way in much to the male's pleasure. Keane left him like that as he walked to the prison door, his ears still catching the muffled moans and grunts as that machine went to work fucking the lapine. It wasn't long before the bunny was shooting his load all over his chest and belly, and moaning for more.\n\n“It's good to see him get what he deserves.” The dragon said with a chuckle, standing up to approach the door. “Did you get what I asked for, little one?” Those yellow eyes stared unblinking at the otter who just nodded. “Good boy, now hand it over.” The dragon stuck his fingers between the bars on the window of the door and waited for the otter to hand him the doll.\n\nKeane lifted it up without a second thought, almost lost in those eyes. He only managed to pull himself away from the gaze when he felt some of his fur being plucked from his hand as the dragon took that doll. The stoic look on his face turned into a grin and the dragon laughed pushed those furs into the doll.\n\n“Ouch, watch what you're grabbing, will you?” Keane spat and rubbed the spot where those strands of fur had been plucked. “How are we going to pacify this king?” He asked and saw the dragon's lips curl into a wide grin.\n\n“Little one, there is no pacifying our great King.” The dragon said in a slow cadence, his tone dark. “There's only joining him.”\n\nWith that, the dragon lifted up the plush and Keane stared at it. No longer was it grey and mostly featureless, it looked almost exactly like him. The otter watched as the prisoner touched his finger to the doll's crotch and started to rub, the feeling being transferred directly into Keane's own crotch. But the stone cage kept him from getting hard. He could feel his shaft pressing up against the ribs, wanting desperately to escape.\n\nThe otter gripped the door and let out a moan, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. He had fallen for the dragon's trap and was now at his mercy. The more the dragon rubbed the crotch on that plush, the weaker the otter's knees got. It was all he could do to keep upright, and more worryingly, that cage was now getting really tight. He poked his fingers through the bars of the prison as though to reach for the plush and the dragon laughed.\n\n“Want me to stop already, little one? But we just got started.” The dragon drew a claw down the back of the plush and it sent a shiver down Keane's spine, his tail lifting a little. That claw found its way underneath the tail of the plush and it pushed forwards. Keane's ass stretched, his toes digging into the stones below him as he fruitlessly ground his cage against the door. The thought of escaping left him, he was so desperate to cum from the encounter with that strange statue that it became his obsession.\n\nThe dragon moved forward and opened a slot in the door through which food could be delivered. It was the perfect height for Keane's caged bits to slip on through, precum dribbling around the stone ribs and onto the floor. One large hand gripped that cage, giving it a teasing tug while the otter let loose another needy groan. With his free hand, the dragon dug that claw a little deeper into the backside of the otter plush and Keane grunted. His ass was already being stretched further than the statue had.\n\n“Please...” Keane said at last, looking into those yellow, glowing eyes once again.\n\n“Please, what?” The dragon replied and Keane wasn't sure what he was pleading for. The dragon curled his lips into a grin and pressed his face against the door, his eyes glowing brighter. He had the otter exactly where he wanted him; desperate and unwilling to look away. Even if he regained enough of his composure to want to escape, his grip on that cage was far to strong to break free of. He just stared into the otter's emerald eyes and watched the pupils grow larger. It wasn't until the otter's jaw hung slightly open that the dragon knew he had him completely enthralled.\n\nThe dungeon faded from around the otter, leaving him standing on a wine-colored carpet. The walls and the ceiling were an eerie, billowing darkness that seemed to float around the small platform. In front of him was the dragon from the prison. He somehow looked prouder, more intimidating, and he wore a silver crown on top of his head. Between his legs was another familiar creature. It looked almost exactly like the statue Keane had run into in the storeroom, except this one was undoubtedly real.\n\nHe was also on his hands and knees facing Keane with his tail hiked up as high as it could go. A night blue cloak hung from around his neck and pooled on his left side and the creature had its eyes squeezed shut. No doubt he was feeling the girth and length of that dragon's cock buried within his ass as the dragon fucked him relentlessly. Beads of sweat glistened on the smaller creature's skin, rolling off and dripping onto the carpet below. An engorged, white cock throbbed below the creature, bouncing against his belly with each powerful thrust from the dragon. The black glans of that shaft shone in the light while pearls of precum splattered against the creature's chest and stomach.\n\nKeane could smell the overpowering scent of masculinity hanging in the air and it made his loins stir. He watched as the dragon came inside the smaller creature, then started to fuck him again. It went on and on until Keane's cock felt like it was burning, his balls aching for release. He looked down, desperately trying to wiggle a finger through the cage to give himself a stroke. By the time he looked back up, the smaller creature was not only standing, but delivering a blow to the dragon which knocked him back against the throne.\n\nThe dragon faded away, replaced instead by the smaller creature he had been fucking. He was sitting on the throne, that silver crown adorning his head, and he was staring right at Keane. It made the otter's heart race and as he took a step back, he ran into a warm and scaly wall. Behind him, the dragon stood towering over the otter, his hands coming to rest on the mustelid's shoulders. The dragon bent down, his hot breath spilling over the otter's small, rounded ears.\n\n“I stood no chance against the King.” The dragon rumbled in a low voice. “What hope do you have? You'll become just another one of the King's playthings. A toy for him to use and lock up like I have become.”\n\nKeane wasn't sure he liked the prospect of that. He wanted to get home, to go back to his village. He wanted to rip that cage off, shatter it to free his cock. He wanted nothing more than to kneel in front of that king and stroke himself, to take that royal shaft into hi muzzle and pleasure the creature that was unknowingly tormenting him. He could hear the dragon chuckling behind him as his head shifted towards his other ear.\n\n“You can have what you want if you're smarter than I was.” The dragon hissed, his tongue brushing up against one of the otter's ears. “You just have to give yourself over to him. He will be much kinder that way.” A dark laugh built within the chest of the dragon and the scene before him started to fade. “Give yourself to the King, Become perfection itself.”\n\nBy the time Keane came back to his senses, he was standing in front of two large, arched doors. He had no idea how he had gotten there from the dungeon, or just how much time had passed. He could still feel the dragon rubbing all over him, though, and every once in a while toying with his bits or teasing his ass. He supposed the dragon had used that doll to force him to walk here, and even though he wanted to turn around and descend the stairs behind him, find the first exit he could and flee from that accursed castle, he felt himself compelled to move forward. His hand reached out and he pulled on one of the handles, the door opening up rather easily despite its imposing size.\n\nInside was a chamber with high ceilings, two rows of pillars keeping the structure aloft. On the opposite side of the room was a platform with a single step, lifting a golden chair just high enough to denote its occupant's importance. It had a low back, the arm rests carved with the head of a dragon, its ribbed and scaled neck extending to the base. Crystal obelisks sat on either side of the throne and a tall window towered behind it with the silhouette of land underneath a dark sky clearly visible.\n\nOn that throne sat a familiar creature. Keane had seen his likes in the storeroom when he uncovered that statue, and he had seen the creature in the vision that the dragon had given him. He sat on the throne in a casual manner, one elbow propped up on the head of one of those carved dragons, his hand clenched into a fist and his cheek smooched up against it. The other hand gripped the opposite rest and those claws clicked against it.\n\nThe creature was mostly naked, only wearing an amethyst cloak with a gold and ruby clasp and that silvery crown Keane had seen the dragon wear once. He slouched a little in the seat, his legs spread open and his junk on display for anybody to see. It was just as Keane had seen it, a white shaft with a loose foreskin that hung over the black glans beneath. A pair of large balls acted like a pillow on which the cock rested.\n\nAs Keane approached the throne, he found himself sinking to his knees. He stared down at the floor, the stones covered in a familiar wine-colored carpet. He kept his gaze on the floor, his knees spread apart so that stone cage would be on display. The dragon must have decided to toy with him again as the otter felt something push against his tailhole and spread it open. His eyes clenched and he grunted then let out a moan that echoed off the walls of the throne room. His gaze flicked up and he saw the king smirk as he straightened his back, his forearms resting on his knees, and leaned in to look the otter over.\n\n“So you're the one who has been sneaking around in side of my castle.” The king spoke at last. “And you thought that you could free one of my prisoners. That was a mistake.” The creature clicked its tongue then chuckled. “Looks like he's having fun with his doll, though, and it looks like you have a request for me. Well?”\n\nKeane looked up at the king and his mind rang with the words of the dragon even as images of his village bounced in his head. He wanted to go home, he didn't want to become another prisoner in this castle, and most of all he wanted his sexual frustration to end. Which he wanted more was beyond him. He lifted his head to look at the king and felt another rub to his crotch, precum drooling out of the cage to make a mess on the carpet.\n\nThe king stood and walked over to the otter. He placed a single finger under the otter's chin and guided his nose right to his crotch. Keane couldn't help but smell that musk, the scent of a familiar desire the plagued him all evening. He felt the king's shaft press against his nose then rub along his furry muzzle, those thick, soft strands of fur stimulating the king's shaft enough that it began to swell. The otter's hot breath spilled over the thickening shaft and his eyes remained fixed on the red eyes that stared down at him.\n\n“Lick it.” The king said and Keane complied. His maw opened, his short, soft tongue rolled out and he licked from the base of that shaft to the hooded tip before he buried his nose against those slightly sweaty balls. “Good otter.”\n\nKeane didn't know why that had made him so happy, he just wanted to sniff more of that masculine scent. He got another taste of the king, this time of his balls and this time without prompting. His tongue bathed each one of those orbs then swirled along the base of the creature's cock before he pulled himself away.\n\n“I want... I want to go home.” He whimpered and looked back up at the king before him.\n\n“Why would you want something so silly?” The king said, gripping the back of the otter's head and pulling it against his crotch again. He ground his cock and balls against the boy's muzzle and grinned. “Especially when you can make this place your home.”\n\nKeane struggled at first, but once he took another whiff of that scent and got one more taste of the king's sac, he settled in and closed his eyes. It was like that musk was flowing from his lungs and up into his brain, swirling around it and enclosing it, making it swim in that heavenly scent.\n\n“I want...” Keane said again and the king humped a little harder. He could feel the thick toes on that creature's foot against the cage below him, toying with that trapped member and stroking over his own furry sac. It was enough that he had to moan, had to bury his face into the king's junk and take his fill of the creature standing before him.\n\n“Go on, otter. Say it.” The king growled, his foot pressing the otter's balls firmly into the floor.\n\nKeane whined again and reached up to grip the creature's hips, he wasn't sure if he wanted to pull him closer or push him away. Instead, he just held his grip there for a moment then finally lifted his he ad to groan.\n\n“I want to be you!”\n\nDarkmon blinked; it was an unusual request, but one that he found himself drawn to. His lips curled into a grin and and pushed the otter back until his ass was sitting on his heels. He cupped the otter's muzzle and tilted his head upwards then leaned over with a grin on his muzzle.\n\n“That's a far better request, my toy.” The veemon said and leaned in to kiss the otter on cheek.\n\nKeane's ears folded back and he almost blushed at that kiss, as well as being called a 'toy.' What he didn't realize was that kiss had left a mark on his cheek in the shape of pursed lips, though it didn't stay that shape for long. It started to spread across his face, and around one of his eyes. By the time he looked up at the king, one of his emerald eyes had turned ruby red.\n\nDarkmon took a step back to admire his work, a yellow mark forming just beside the new eye of the transforming otter. That black skin quickly spread upwards, a horn growing out of the back of the otter's head. At the edge of that spreading corruption, a neon green outline could be seen as otter's form was rewritten and turned more into that of Darkmon's. It wasn't until a small horn grew out of the tip of Keane's muzzle that he knew something was amiss.\n\nHe brought his hand up to his cheek and touched the smooth, warm skin that had replaced his soft fur. His heart raced in his chest and he explored his face, up to the horn that was now almost the same size as one of the king's, and then down his muzzle to that smaller horn. When he drew his hand away, the webs between the fingers were gone. As was the fur and the soft pads on his fingers and palm. Instead, he had three black fingers capped with grey claws, and the corruption was starting to spread over his arm.\n\nNot thinking, he wiped his hand on his thigh in a futile attempt to shed the corruption from his body. It only managed to spread it even further as it flowed quickly down his leg and to his feet, two toes fuzing into one as the other two grew larger. It spread along his crotch as well, and as it touched that cage that had held his cock captive for so many hours, the cage dissolved; or rather, it became more of that corruption. His cock turned white, the head of his shaft becoming black and slightly swollen before his foreskin bunched up around it, hanging loose off the glans.\n\nThe taint had spread to his chest and belly, the otter increasingly becoming worried. He stood up, taking a few steps back before he felt something inside of his head. He knew his name was Keane, but he could also swear his name was Darkmon. He had grown up on a small island with several villages of otters like himself, and he had grown up as a veemon who fancied himself a noble knight and sought to rid the land of an evil dragon king.\n\nWhile he held his furred hand out, a worried look on the otter half of his face, his other hand stroked over the new, smooth skin of his body, the Darkmon half of him grinning. That black hand reached over, cupping the furry cheek on the other side of its body and spreading more of that corruption before Keane's furred paw could grip the wrist and pull it away. That only served to spread it even further as his webs once again dissolved, his fur disappearing, and his skin turning dark.\n\nA part of him was getting turned on watching himself become a clone of the king that stood before him. That part was Darkmon's half of his consciousness, but just like the king was already hard and stroking his shaft, Keane soon was hard. The taint had spread down his tail, across his entire face and up his left arm. One of his hands went to stroke himself while the other worked to spread the change down his leg.\n\nIt wasn't long until his entire body was covered in that smooth black and white skin, both of his eyes now a ruby red, and that yellow “V” adorning his forehead. Keane watched as Darkmon circled around him, then grabbed him from behind and finally thrust his cock deep into his new tailhole. He moaned louder than he had when the dragon had teased him, a shiver running down his spine and to the tip of his tail. He curled that tail around Darkmon, pulling him with it each time the veemon decided to shove his cock back in before pulling out.\n\nAgain and again his ass was pounded, those large balls s lapping against his thick rump. Keane felt weak and he dropped to his knees with Darkmon still on top of him, humping him wildly like that dragon had done to him. One of Keane's hands gripped his shaft, pumping it freely now that the cage was gone, and finally he felt himself overcoming that sexual frustration. His shaft throbbed and pulsed with each plunge of Darkmon's hips against him and it didn't take long for the over-stimulated, new dark veemon to spill his seed.\n\nIt was all that was left of the otter and that thick, hot cum sprayed all over the carpet, making a mess of it. His tailhole clamped around Darkmon's cock, almost tugging it into him before the king let out a groan and filled his new toy with that corrupting seed. It sprayed against the silken walls of Keane's insides, quickly absorbing into his new body. There was a flash of light in the new veemon's eyes and then it was it gone, along with Keane's old life of being an otter.\n\nDarkmon made his way back to the throne while Keane took a moment to collect himself. He rose again and stepped up onto the platform before kneeling in front of his king. Keane could remember parts of his old life and who he used to be, but he had the memories of a new life in him as well. Unlike Darkmon, though, Keane didn't fancy himself a king. He was just a clone and a toy for the king to enjoy. Not that he minded that.\n\nHe lifted his head and grinned at the other Darkmon. “That was, Sire. Thank you.” He cooed, his voice even sounded an awful lot like the king's.\n\n“You're welcome, my clone.” Darkmon leaned over to stroke his new clone's cheek then gave him a passionate kiss. “Besides, you look so much better as me.” Darkmon coaxed his new clone to sit in his lap and made out with his toy while Keane did his best to pleasure his new King.\n\nHe couldn't help but agree, though. He was far sexier as another Darkmon. ","description_bbcode_parsed":"People seem to think that i'm blowing hot air, some people tend to think that it's all just talk and fuck around~
But no. It isn't. Not all of it, This little otter came close enough to the King that he now belongs, entirely to the King. So much so, we had to do away with that stupid form of his. Replace it with something way, way better.
He is now and forever will be, my Clone~
But, don't take my word for it ;)
Darkmon © Me
Keane / Keanemon / Story © http://www.furaffinity.net/user/keane/
Art © http://www.furaffinity.net/user/achiga
A Mirror Darkmon
The rhythmic crashing of waves against jagged rocks accompanied ringing in the ears as the first sensations Keane felt upon awakening. The otter felt water rushing up to almost his waist before it retreated back to the sea in a never-ending ebb and flow. His head throbbed and his body ached, it took him a while to collect himself enough to even open his eyes. He was lying on an unfamiliar beach with his cheek planted firmly into the sand. In the corner of his eye he could see the splintered wreck of his boat, the last few hours suddenly coming back to him.
He had left his village days ago, heading south to visit another friendly tribe of otters. He did so almost every year and sowed his wild oats in as many of the males as his loins would allow. There was also some trade involved, though that was more of an excuse than a purpose. Typically, the route was sunny and ocean calm this time of year, but Keane had run into a rather potent storm that had formed on top of him without warning. It was all he could do to save himself and he worked as fast as his legs would allow him.
He knew he had to fold the sails up first, but he also knew if he kept one, he could use the wind to guide him out of the storm before the worst developed. He took the gamble, angling the sail just right to cut most of the wind, reducing the strain on the mast. He didn't exactly care the direction that he was taken so long as it headed out of that storm. It was working, too, until the wind suddenly changed and half of his boat was lifted out of the water with a powerful gust.
The mast snapped in half, one of the arms hitting Keane in the head. He would never know what happened after that, but he could peice together enough. The storm had tossed his boat around and pushed it towards shore where the rocks had torn the poor little ship apart. Keane was lucky to be alive and he couldn't help but smile at that, despite his situation.
He lifted himself up to a kneeling position and ran his webbed paw through his cheek. Sand stuck to his fur rained down onto the beach. He brushed off his side and belly as well before standing. Scanning the beach, he could see pieces of his boat littering the sands. There was also a crate off in the distance; one that Keane immediately recognized. It was his cured fish.
Though his head felt like it was being squeezed in a vice, the growling in his belly seemed more pressing of a matter. He walked along the beach to that crate, glad to see it was mostly intact. The fish may have been a little wet, but the otter devoured it anyway. It was salty, flaky and as delicious as the first day he set sail, he would have to thank his brother when he manged to get home. It was only with a full stomach that he thought about getting home.
After fashioning a makeshift pouch out of his loincloth, leaving the otter practically naked save for the vest he wore, he packed it with as much of the fish as he could and walked along the beach. He was flanked by the ocean on one side and tall cliffs on the other. There was no sign of civilization, but for all the otter knew, he could climb those cliffs and find a village just above. If he could find a suitable place to climb.
The sun hung low in the sky when he turned a bend on the beach and saw the stone, cylindrical towers of a castle in the distance, each capped with a conical roof. What got him the most excited, however, were the light shining through the windows of some of the towers. Lights meant that people had to live there, which meant he might find a way to get himself home. There was also a stone and wood dock with a pathway that lead to stairs acceding to the top of the cliffs. The sight lifted his spirits enough to pick up his pace, bounding up the stairs two at a time until he reached the top.
The castle was at the end of a long bridge, the guardhouses on either side were empty, though. Not that the otter thought anything of it. In his village, there were no guards even for the chieftain. He walked right passed them and over the bridge to the front door of the castle. He had never seen an entrance so big; it was almost two and a half times his height. Yet when he tried to open the door, it swung on its hinges feeling as light as the thin door on his own house.
He entered into a grand foyer, the stone floor covered in a soft rug. Its pattern was crimson circles outlined in pink and midnight blue, with four concave diamonds bordering the circle in the same crimson, but with a dark green outline. The pattern repeated itself over a field of bronze the edged tucked into themselves. On the walls were tapestries, or perhaps banners, each quadrant broken up into midnight blue, black, dark brown and orange; a golden “V” centered on the tapestries with a field of white behind it.
“Hello?” Keane asked with a trill in his voice, calling out to any hidden figures that may be in earshot. He walked further into the foyer and peered around. Oak tables displayed expensive-looking vases and matching shelves held all sorts of nicknacks. He didn't dare walk over to either lest he be mistaken for a thief.
Nobody answered his call, nor the handful of attempts afterward; each louder than the last. Instead, he decided to venture further in and hope the occupants of the castle would be forgiving for his intrusion. He exited into a hallway, large arches on stood on either side of the wall opposite to him and as he walked by, he glanced one of the largest dining rooms he had seen. He could fit every member of his tribe around that table, and still have enough room left over to invite several of the other smaller tribes.
The next few arches were sealed with doors, none of them budging when he gave them a push. It was still too early for the occupants to be in bed, or at least he gathered that should be the case, but maybe there really was nobody there. Maybe the lights were automatic like the ones he saw in the big cities on the mainland.
“Is anybody here?” He called out again, hearing his voice reverberate a bit. A noise caused his ears to perk up and he halted in his step. It sounded like a groan, and it was coming from the end of the hallway. He could see a set of stairs descending, curling in a clockwise fashion. He practically held his breath and waited for the next noise that he swore was a faint plea for help.
Keane had a choice to make. He could leave the castle now and hope to come across a village before sunset, maybe even make camp along the road, or he could descend those stairs and investigate. The more sensible part of his brain told him to do the former but there was a more noble part of his brain telling him to do the right thing. It was a part that he strived to listen to his entire life and he wasn't going to go running now just because he was in a strange land.
He walked forwards and carefully took the steps downwards, spiraling around a stone pillar. It ended in a rather dark and forlorn room. It was lit by the flickering light of torches that lined the walls and on the far end were iron doors with small windows about the height of Keane's eyes. The room was furnished with all sorts of devices, most of which included restraints. It would have been easy to mistake this place for some kind of torture chamber, but the shelves of rubber toys in all shapes and sizes, sexual restraints that could fit big and small, and kinky clothing of just about every sort make it clear it was as sex dungeon.
“Ah, finally, a visitor,” said a voice coming from behind one of those doors, “and perhaps you'll be kind enough to free me.”
Keane stepped further into the dungeon, still eying the contraptions that sat on either side of him. One of them still looked to be covered in fluids and he wondered if they belonged to the deep-voiced figure on the other side of that door.
“What's going on here?” Keane asked, keeping his voice low. He was surprised by the dark chuckle that he got in response, his brow furrowing and his eyes narrowing on that door.
“It's it obvious, my dear otter? I suppose not.” The figure sighed audibly. “You don't look like you're from around here. Nor do you look dressed enough to be one of the King's guests.”
It was then that Keane remembered his nakedness. He was so used to running around his village sans clothing that he had forgotten he should cover up. He could also feel those eyes staring at him, at his maleness, and it made his fur itch. He took a step further, grabbing one of the torches before he approached the door.
Inside was a rather chubby looking dragon. It was a good thing the prison he was kept in was so large because he took up a fair deal of space inside of there. His scales were mostly grey, though his paws and feet, the tip of his tail, his horns and even the tip of his muzzle were a vibrant yellow. Between the grey and yellow, the scales changed color in a soft but steep gradient. Even his shaft followed that same pattern, grey at the base and yellow at the hooded tip. The sheer size of that shaft caught the otter's attention and it took him a moment to tear his eyes away.
Looking into the dragon's eyes was unsettling, though. They were bright yellow and without pupils, making it difficult to tell exactly what the dragon was staring at. The way the fur on the back of Keane's neck stood up, though, he figured those eyes were directly on his. They glowed as well, creating a shadow around the dragon's eyes. The otter could feel his heart racing as he stared into them, unable to look away.
“Who are you?” He asked at last.
“I used to be the king of this castle.” The dragon said with a tinge of spite in his voice. “Until the Dark One came to depose me. Now I'm just a prisoner, one who wants nothing more than to be free of his accursed castle.” As the dragon spoke, he moved in closer to the door, staring down the otter with a smirk on his face. “Maybe you could help me. You look to be far from home and I would be willing to escort you back.”
Keane didn't know what to think. On one hand, he only had the word of the dragon to go by. He had just met the male and he could not be certain about the verisimilitude of his claim. But then, if this place was a sex dungeon, why would its occupant be asking to get out? That was the part of the story that nagged at him. It was Keane's sense of nobility that made the decision for him.
“What do you need to get out? I'm afraid I can't break the lock.” He glanced down at the rather sturdy and thick lock that held the door closed.
“We will require the key, but the King keeps it on his person at all times.” The dragon said and his face got even closer to the small window. He peered out at Keane with those glowing eyes and they looked softer somehow. The dragon almost looked gentle. “You wouldn't stand a chance against him while he's awake, but luckily I have a plan.”
“What's that?” Keane asked as he stepped closer.
“I need you to fetch me my plush.” The dragon's lips curled when he saw the confusion on the otter's face. “Oh, don't worry little one, this isn't just any normal plush. With it, I can subdue the King long enough for you to snatch the key. It will be a breeze.” The dragon sounded pleased with his own plan.
Keane thought for a moment, but he had already come this far. It didn't make sense for him to turn back. “Alright, I'll get your doll. Do you know where it's being kept?”
“Of course,” the dragon cooed and stepped back from the door, taking a seat on the floor with those large balls acting like a pillow for his impressive cock. He couldn't help but notice the otter staring and he even adjusted himself. “It's in the storeroom at the top of this spire, kept in a small, blue chest. You just have to keep going up the steps and you'll find what you're looking for.”
Keane watched as a thin, clear liquid drooled from the tip of that still-flaccid cock and over those gigantic balls. He then nodded and forced a smile. “Got it, I'll be back in no time.”
By the time the otter reached the storeroom at the top of the tower, he was huffing for breath. It wasn't that he was out of shape, though, but rather the trek had seemed almost endless. His legs burned and the pads were starting to get cold from walking on that bare stone, but eventually he stood in front of a large archway with boxes and chests lining the walls of the room beyond. In the middle of the room was a structure covered by a dusty cloth, the ends of which pooled around the base.
It was no taller than Keane himself and it aroused his curiosity. As he stepped into the room, his eyes scanned for the chest he was told would be there. As he walked around the object in the center of the room, he let his paw drag across the sheet. He kept a lookout for that blue chest. His paw brushed against a bulge in the hidden object and he paused, gripping the sheet before he gave it a tug. It flowed easily and spilled onto the floor, revealing a rather detailed statue underneath.
It was black and grey, the surface of the statue polished smooth and shiny. Two horns jutted out of its head with another small horn poking out of the tip of its muzzle. The statue was clearly of a male as the bulge Keane's paw had touched before was the well-endowed and engorged shaft standing proudly between the statue's legs. On its forehead was that same “V” pattern he kept seeing around the castle, inlaid with gold and yellow gems.
Around back was a long, thick tail about the same size as Keane's, as well as a thick ass that seemed to fit the statue well. Both hands and feet had only three digits, each of them capped with a large claw. Keane had never seen a creature like this on any of his travels and idly wondered what it could be called. He hadn't noticed that his hand had gone back to that shaft, nor did he notice how warm to the touch it was for a piece of stone. He just gazed into those ruby eyes, swearing they were staring back at him.
Then in the reflection of the stone, he saw a blue glint and turned his head, tearing his gaze from the statue. It was the chest that dragon had told him to retrieve. He turned and took a step towards it, but then felt something grab his shoulder and around his waist. He yelped and tried to break free, but the grip around him was far too strong. His head turned and he saw the statue out of the corner of his eye. It had moved from its platform and now had quite a the grin on his face. Those eyes glowed a brighter red and Keane couldn't help but stare into them.
“The King doesn't take kindly to trespassers.” The statue said, his hand reaching around to grip the otter's cock and toy with it. “Especially the thieving kind.” It hissed.
“Let...let me go!” Keane struggled against the grip and felt something slide under his tail. His ears folded back, his tail swinging wildly behind him until he felt the stone head of that shaft poke just under his tail. That was when those eyes started to swirl, and then the entire room began to spin. Or was it them who were spinning? Keane couldn't tell.
His cock grew in the grasp of the statue and he soon found himself pushing back on that stone shaft. Except, it didn't feel like stone anymore. Perhaps he had been mistaken all along. The material was soft, it was warm and it was pliable. As precum oozed from his shaft, the statue's hand started to squeak against the surface of his throbbing flesh.
“What would be the fun of that?” The statue whispered into Keane's ear. “Besides, it looks like you're enjoying this. Now, moan for me, toy.” His hand gripped tighter around the otter's shaft and he trust himself forwards, burying his shaft inside of the intruder's ass.
In spite of himself, Keane lifted his head and groaned, his cock twitching. Drops of pre rolled out of the slit and onto the statue's fingers and dripped against the floor. Even when Keane closed his eyes, he could see those spiraling eyes in front of him. His tail wrapped around the statue's waist, pulling the thing against him as the statue's hips rolled in and out.
“That's it, my little otter. This is just a taste of what the King will do to you should he find you.” The statue laughed and kept on humping that tight, hot ass. His hand stroked quickly over that throbbing otter cock around front, the combination of the two actions quickly driving Keane wild.
The otter panted, reaching back to grip that statue's soft, thick ass as he drove himself back against the shaft now pulsing inside of him. How something could feel so realistic was beyond him, but he couldn't stop. He had to keep going, had to get this statue off, he had to empty his own balls. He could feel himself getting closer, his balls drawing up against his body.
“F—fuck, I'm so close. Just a little more...!” The otter cried out. Then the room stopped spinning.
Keane opened his eyes and he was one his hands and knees on the cold stone floor. He was no longer being held by the statue, no longer being fucked by it. Yet he could still feel that familiar pressure in his ass that came from post sex, and he was still very close to the edge of orgasm. When he turned his head to look behind him, the statue was back where it had been and in exactly the same pose. How it had gotten back there so fast, and how it looked so solid now, was beyond him.
The otter had a more pressing issue to worry about though. He went to grab for his shaft and give it a nice tug, but he found it bound and flaccid. A stone cage had wrapped around his shaft, secured behind his balls. No amount of prying at it could break it free, but he also never seemed to come down from that pre-orgasmic high. He managed to get a claw between the ribs of the cage and stroke himself, his tail thumping hard on the floor behind him in frustration that he couldn't quite stroke hard enough.
In the end, he gave up and decided to stand, climbing up on one of the chests to reach that blue box he had came after. He plucked the plush figure from the box and examined it. It was grey all over and had nearly invisible stitching to it. Its shape lacked enough detail to determine what kind of animal the plush was supposed to be modeled after. Keane turned it around in his paw a few times wondering how this was going to help subdue the king long enough to snatch that key, but it was the only lead he had to go by.
He turned around and leaped off the case, leaving the blue box behind where he had found it in case someone should show up and find anything askew. He also picked up the sheet that went over the statue, covering it but always aware in case it decided to come back to life. With the room back the way he had found it, all that was left was for the otter to descend the stairs. His ears perked up and he swiveled them in every direction he could, hoping not to run into anybody else on his way back down to the dungeon.
Keane tried his best to walk like normal when he descended the final few stairs into the dungeon. He could still feel a little bit of that warm, black cum dribbling out of his ass, but at least his mind felt less fuzzy. He also had the doll in his hand, meaning he was one step closer to getting himself home. At least, as long as the dragon was true to his word.
He had expected the dragon to be at the door, eagerly awaiting his return. Instead, all he heard was the dull roar of his breathing. What he didn't hear were the footsteps behind him as plush pads cushioned the steps of another male. Keane had made it almost half way to the prison door before he heard a voice and spun around.
“What do we have here. A new plaything, perhaps?” A bunny stood at the door with his arms crossed over his chest. He had on a rather large smirk and a cocky look about him, but that was about all he was wearing. He was rather lithe, typical for a rabbit, but he had a thick ass and thighs that he was obviously proud of. Between his legs stood a throbbing pink member poking out from a small sheath, those walnut-sized balls dangling underneath.
He had pure white fur with splotches of black on his upper arms, his thighs and one of his shoulders. He also had that same yellow “V” he had seen on the banners and on that living statue in the storeroom. Minus the tall ears, the bunny was almost a head shorter than Keane, but he still managed to look imposing. Perhaps it was the leather straps around his biceps and the thick cock ring at the base of his junk, or maybe it was the crop he was wielding in his paw.
“I,” the otter started, not sure of what to say, “seem to be a little lost, I was looking for the king to see if I could maybe get help with my ship.” He decided honesty was the right way to go about this, though he didn't offer up too much information.
The bunny just laughed. “And so you got the poor dwaggy's widdle doll?” The rabbit replied as though talking about a toddler. “Don't worry, rudderbutt, you'll make a fine addition to this dungeon.” With that, the bunny charged forwards.
Keane dropped the doll on the floor and met the bunny with his own charge. He grabbed at the other male's shoulders as he approached and the bunny slashed a pair of pink lacquered claws at him which just barely missed his face. Keane's lips curled into a snarl and pushed the bunny back, but the rabbit ducked out of the way and tried to take the otter's legs out from under him.
With a quick turn, that rudder swung around and smacked the bunny against the muzzle sending the lapine back on his thick ass. Keane leaped out of the way as that crop was thrown at him, listening to it smack against one of the machines behind him as the bunny scrambled his way to his feet. He squared off against the otter and leaped at him once again, but Keane was much too large of a target for the bunny to take down head on.
Instead, Keane grabbed the bunny's wrists and held them above his head. That was when the bunny brought his knee up and grazed the otter's junk. Keane growled, a rush of adrenaline making it far easier to push the bunny until his back hit one of the sex machines. It had a convenient place to lock the rabbit's wrists and then he only had to still those legs long enough to latch the ankles in as well. He barely even noticed the raging hard-on that throbbed in front of his face while he tied down the rabbit.
“This is getting real fucking kinky, rudderbutt.” The bunny laughed and thrusts his hips at Keane who slapped the cock again. It only seemed to turn the bunny on a even more. “Fuck, harder!” He screamed at the top of his lungs.
Keane stood up and grabbed a thick ball gag from off the wall behind the machine then stuffed it into the bunny's maw. He latched one of the straps behind his head before wrapping the other around his muzzle. Those red eyes staring back at him were full of lust, the rabbit's shaft dripping onto the floor. Keane just stepped away and grabbed the plush from off the floor.
He couldn't help but look back at the bunny, though. His rigged cock towering between his legs, throbbing and glistening in the torchlight. He could help the bunny out, just grab that shaft and pump it in his paw until he came. He already had gone this far in tying him up, he was nothing but a toy in the hands of a superior now. Keane blinked at that, not knowing where that thought had come from, but before went back to talk to the dragon, he pressed one of the buttons on the retraining device.
The hum of a motor sounded and Keane watched as a piston was raised behind the bunny. A thick, equine shaft poked at the bunny's hole and soon slid its way in much to the male's pleasure. Keane left him like that as he walked to the prison door, his ears still catching the muffled moans and grunts as that machine went to work fucking the lapine. It wasn't long before the bunny was shooting his load all over his chest and belly, and moaning for more.
“It's good to see him get what he deserves.” The dragon said with a chuckle, standing up to approach the door. “Did you get what I asked for, little one?” Those yellow eyes stared unblinking at the otter who just nodded. “Good boy, now hand it over.” The dragon stuck his fingers between the bars on the window of the door and waited for the otter to hand him the doll.
Keane lifted it up without a second thought, almost lost in those eyes. He only managed to pull himself away from the gaze when he felt some of his fur being plucked from his hand as the dragon took that doll. The stoic look on his face turned into a grin and the dragon laughed pushed those furs into the doll.
“Ouch, watch what you're grabbing, will you?” Keane spat and rubbed the spot where those strands of fur had been plucked. “How are we going to pacify this king?” He asked and saw the dragon's lips curl into a wide grin.
“Little one, there is no pacifying our great King.” The dragon said in a slow cadence, his tone dark. “There's only joining him.”
With that, the dragon lifted up the plush and Keane stared at it. No longer was it grey and mostly featureless, it looked almost exactly like him. The otter watched as the prisoner touched his finger to the doll's crotch and started to rub, the feeling being transferred directly into Keane's own crotch. But the stone cage kept him from getting hard. He could feel his shaft pressing up against the ribs, wanting desperately to escape.
The otter gripped the door and let out a moan, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. He had fallen for the dragon's trap and was now at his mercy. The more the dragon rubbed the crotch on that plush, the weaker the otter's knees got. It was all he could do to keep upright, and more worryingly, that cage was now getting really tight. He poked his fingers through the bars of the prison as though to reach for the plush and the dragon laughed.
“Want me to stop already, little one? But we just got started.” The dragon drew a claw down the back of the plush and it sent a shiver down Keane's spine, his tail lifting a little. That claw found its way underneath the tail of the plush and it pushed forwards. Keane's ass stretched, his toes digging into the stones below him as he fruitlessly ground his cage against the door. The thought of escaping left him, he was so desperate to cum from the encounter with that strange statue that it became his obsession.
The dragon moved forward and opened a slot in the door through which food could be delivered. It was the perfect height for Keane's caged bits to slip on through, precum dribbling around the stone ribs and onto the floor. One large hand gripped that cage, giving it a teasing tug while the otter let loose another needy groan. With his free hand, the dragon dug that claw a little deeper into the backside of the otter plush and Keane grunted. His ass was already being stretched further than the statue had.
“Please...” Keane said at last, looking into those yellow, glowing eyes once again.
“Please, what?” The dragon replied and Keane wasn't sure what he was pleading for. The dragon curled his lips into a grin and pressed his face against the door, his eyes glowing brighter. He had the otter exactly where he wanted him; desperate and unwilling to look away. Even if he regained enough of his composure to want to escape, his grip on that cage was far to strong to break free of. He just stared into the otter's emerald eyes and watched the pupils grow larger. It wasn't until the otter's jaw hung slightly open that the dragon knew he had him completely enthralled.
The dungeon faded from around the otter, leaving him standing on a wine-colored carpet. The walls and the ceiling were an eerie, billowing darkness that seemed to float around the small platform. In front of him was the dragon from the prison. He somehow looked prouder, more intimidating, and he wore a silver crown on top of his head. Between his legs was another familiar creature. It looked almost exactly like the statue Keane had run into in the storeroom, except this one was undoubtedly real.
He was also on his hands and knees facing Keane with his tail hiked up as high as it could go. A night blue cloak hung from around his neck and pooled on his left side and the creature had its eyes squeezed shut. No doubt he was feeling the girth and length of that dragon's cock buried within his ass as the dragon fucked him relentlessly. Beads of sweat glistened on the smaller creature's skin, rolling off and dripping onto the carpet below. An engorged, white cock throbbed below the creature, bouncing against his belly with each powerful thrust from the dragon. The black glans of that shaft shone in the light while pearls of precum splattered against the creature's chest and stomach.
Keane could smell the overpowering scent of masculinity hanging in the air and it made his loins stir. He watched as the dragon came inside the smaller creature, then started to fuck him again. It went on and on until Keane's cock felt like it was burning, his balls aching for release. He looked down, desperately trying to wiggle a finger through the cage to give himself a stroke. By the time he looked back up, the smaller creature was not only standing, but delivering a blow to the dragon which knocked him back against the throne.
The dragon faded away, replaced instead by the smaller creature he had been fucking. He was sitting on the throne, that silver crown adorning his head, and he was staring right at Keane. It made the otter's heart race and as he took a step back, he ran into a warm and scaly wall. Behind him, the dragon stood towering over the otter, his hands coming to rest on the mustelid's shoulders. The dragon bent down, his hot breath spilling over the otter's small, rounded ears.
“I stood no chance against the King.” The dragon rumbled in a low voice. “What hope do you have? You'll become just another one of the King's playthings. A toy for him to use and lock up like I have become.”
Keane wasn't sure he liked the prospect of that. He wanted to get home, to go back to his village. He wanted to rip that cage off, shatter it to free his cock. He wanted nothing more than to kneel in front of that king and stroke himself, to take that royal shaft into hi muzzle and pleasure the creature that was unknowingly tormenting him. He could hear the dragon chuckling behind him as his head shifted towards his other ear.
“You can have what you want if you're smarter than I was.” The dragon hissed, his tongue brushing up against one of the otter's ears. “You just have to give yourself over to him. He will be much kinder that way.” A dark laugh built within the chest of the dragon and the scene before him started to fade. “Give yourself to the King, Become perfection itself.”
By the time Keane came back to his senses, he was standing in front of two large, arched doors. He had no idea how he had gotten there from the dungeon, or just how much time had passed. He could still feel the dragon rubbing all over him, though, and every once in a while toying with his bits or teasing his ass. He supposed the dragon had used that doll to force him to walk here, and even though he wanted to turn around and descend the stairs behind him, find the first exit he could and flee from that accursed castle, he felt himself compelled to move forward. His hand reached out and he pulled on one of the handles, the door opening up rather easily despite its imposing size.
Inside was a chamber with high ceilings, two rows of pillars keeping the structure aloft. On the opposite side of the room was a platform with a single step, lifting a golden chair just high enough to denote its occupant's importance. It had a low back, the arm rests carved with the head of a dragon, its ribbed and scaled neck extending to the base. Crystal obelisks sat on either side of the throne and a tall window towered behind it with the silhouette of land underneath a dark sky clearly visible.
On that throne sat a familiar creature. Keane had seen his likes in the storeroom when he uncovered that statue, and he had seen the creature in the vision that the dragon had given him. He sat on the throne in a casual manner, one elbow propped up on the head of one of those carved dragons, his hand clenched into a fist and his cheek smooched up against it. The other hand gripped the opposite rest and those claws clicked against it.
The creature was mostly naked, only wearing an amethyst cloak with a gold and ruby clasp and that silvery crown Keane had seen the dragon wear once. He slouched a little in the seat, his legs spread open and his junk on display for anybody to see. It was just as Keane had seen it, a white shaft with a loose foreskin that hung over the black glans beneath. A pair of large balls acted like a pillow on which the cock rested.
As Keane approached the throne, he found himself sinking to his knees. He stared down at the floor, the stones covered in a familiar wine-colored carpet. He kept his gaze on the floor, his knees spread apart so that stone cage would be on display. The dragon must have decided to toy with him again as the otter felt something push against his tailhole and spread it open. His eyes clenched and he grunted then let out a moan that echoed off the walls of the throne room. His gaze flicked up and he saw the king smirk as he straightened his back, his forearms resting on his knees, and leaned in to look the otter over.
“So you're the one who has been sneaking around in side of my castle.” The king spoke at last. “And you thought that you could free one of my prisoners. That was a mistake.” The creature clicked its tongue then chuckled. “Looks like he's having fun with his doll, though, and it looks like you have a request for me. Well?”
Keane looked up at the king and his mind rang with the words of the dragon even as images of his village bounced in his head. He wanted to go home, he didn't want to become another prisoner in this castle, and most of all he wanted his sexual frustration to end. Which he wanted more was beyond him. He lifted his head to look at the king and felt another rub to his crotch, precum drooling out of the cage to make a mess on the carpet.
The king stood and walked over to the otter. He placed a single finger under the otter's chin and guided his nose right to his crotch. Keane couldn't help but smell that musk, the scent of a familiar desire the plagued him all evening. He felt the king's shaft press against his nose then rub along his furry muzzle, those thick, soft strands of fur stimulating the king's shaft enough that it began to swell. The otter's hot breath spilled over the thickening shaft and his eyes remained fixed on the red eyes that stared down at him.
“Lick it.” The king said and Keane complied. His maw opened, his short, soft tongue rolled out and he licked from the base of that shaft to the hooded tip before he buried his nose against those slightly sweaty balls. “Good otter.”
Keane didn't know why that had made him so happy, he just wanted to sniff more of that masculine scent. He got another taste of the king, this time of his balls and this time without prompting. His tongue bathed each one of those orbs then swirled along the base of the creature's cock before he pulled himself away.
“I want... I want to go home.” He whimpered and looked back up at the king before him.
“Why would you want something so silly?” The king said, gripping the back of the otter's head and pulling it against his crotch again. He ground his cock and balls against the boy's muzzle and grinned. “Especially when you can make this place your home.”
Keane struggled at first, but once he took another whiff of that scent and got one more taste of the king's sac, he settled in and closed his eyes. It was like that musk was flowing from his lungs and up into his brain, swirling around it and enclosing it, making it swim in that heavenly scent.
“I want...” Keane said again and the king humped a little harder. He could feel the thick toes on that creature's foot against the cage below him, toying with that trapped member and stroking over his own furry sac. It was enough that he had to moan, had to bury his face into the king's junk and take his fill of the creature standing before him.
“Go on, otter. Say it.” The king growled, his foot pressing the otter's balls firmly into the floor.
Keane whined again and reached up to grip the creature's hips, he wasn't sure if he wanted to pull him closer or push him away. Instead, he just held his grip there for a moment then finally lifted his he ad to groan.
“I want to be you!”
Darkmon blinked; it was an unusual request, but one that he found himself drawn to. His lips curled into a grin and and pushed the otter back until his ass was sitting on his heels. He cupped the otter's muzzle and tilted his head upwards then leaned over with a grin on his muzzle.
“That's a far better request, my toy.” The veemon said and leaned in to kiss the otter on cheek.
Keane's ears folded back and he almost blushed at that kiss, as well as being called a 'toy.' What he didn't realize was that kiss had left a mark on his cheek in the shape of pursed lips, though it didn't stay that shape for long. It started to spread across his face, and around one of his eyes. By the time he looked up at the king, one of his emerald eyes had turned ruby red.
Darkmon took a step back to admire his work, a yellow mark forming just beside the new eye of the transforming otter. That black skin quickly spread upwards, a horn growing out of the back of the otter's head. At the edge of that spreading corruption, a neon green outline could be seen as otter's form was rewritten and turned more into that of Darkmon's. It wasn't until a small horn grew out of the tip of Keane's muzzle that he knew something was amiss.
He brought his hand up to his cheek and touched the smooth, warm skin that had replaced his soft fur. His heart raced in his chest and he explored his face, up to the horn that was now almost the same size as one of the king's, and then down his muzzle to that smaller horn. When he drew his hand away, the webs between the fingers were gone. As was the fur and the soft pads on his fingers and palm. Instead, he had three black fingers capped with grey claws, and the corruption was starting to spread over his arm.
Not thinking, he wiped his hand on his thigh in a futile attempt to shed the corruption from his body. It only managed to spread it even further as it flowed quickly down his leg and to his feet, two toes fuzing into one as the other two grew larger. It spread along his crotch as well, and as it touched that cage that had held his cock captive for so many hours, the cage dissolved; or rather, it became more of that corruption. His cock turned white, the head of his shaft becoming black and slightly swollen before his foreskin bunched up around it, hanging loose off the glans.
The taint had spread to his chest and belly, the otter increasingly becoming worried. He stood up, taking a few steps back before he felt something inside of his head. He knew his name was Keane, but he could also swear his name was Darkmon. He had grown up on a small island with several villages of otters like himself, and he had grown up as a veemon who fancied himself a noble knight and sought to rid the land of an evil dragon king.
While he held his furred hand out, a worried look on the otter half of his face, his other hand stroked over the new, smooth skin of his body, the Darkmon half of him grinning. That black hand reached over, cupping the furry cheek on the other side of its body and spreading more of that corruption before Keane's furred paw could grip the wrist and pull it away. That only served to spread it even further as his webs once again dissolved, his fur disappearing, and his skin turning dark.
A part of him was getting turned on watching himself become a clone of the king that stood before him. That part was Darkmon's half of his consciousness, but just like the king was already hard and stroking his shaft, Keane soon was hard. The taint had spread down his tail, across his entire face and up his left arm. One of his hands went to stroke himself while the other worked to spread the change down his leg.
It wasn't long until his entire body was covered in that smooth black and white skin, both of his eyes now a ruby red, and that yellow “V” adorning his forehead. Keane watched as Darkmon circled around him, then grabbed him from behind and finally thrust his cock deep into his new tailhole. He moaned louder than he had when the dragon had teased him, a shiver running down his spine and to the tip of his tail. He curled that tail around Darkmon, pulling him with it each time the veemon decided to shove his cock back in before pulling out.
Again and again his ass was pounded, those large balls s lapping against his thick rump. Keane felt weak and he dropped to his knees with Darkmon still on top of him, humping him wildly like that dragon had done to him. One of Keane's hands gripped his shaft, pumping it freely now that the cage was gone, and finally he felt himself overcoming that sexual frustration. His shaft throbbed and pulsed with each plunge of Darkmon's hips against him and it didn't take long for the over-stimulated, new dark veemon to spill his seed.
It was all that was left of the otter and that thick, hot cum sprayed all over the carpet, making a mess of it. His tailhole clamped around Darkmon's cock, almost tugging it into him before the king let out a groan and filled his new toy with that corrupting seed. It sprayed against the silken walls of Keane's insides, quickly absorbing into his new body. There was a flash of light in the new veemon's eyes and then it was it gone, along with Keane's old life of being an otter.
Darkmon made his way back to the throne while Keane took a moment to collect himself. He rose again and stepped up onto the platform before kneeling in front of his king. Keane could remember parts of his old life and who he used to be, but he had the memories of a new life in him as well. Unlike Darkmon, though, Keane didn't fancy himself a king. He was just a clone and a toy for the king to enjoy. Not that he minded that.
He lifted his head and grinned at the other Darkmon. “That was, Sire. Thank you.” He cooed, his voice even sounded an awful lot like the king's.
“You're welcome, my clone.” Darkmon leaned over to stroke his new clone's cheek then gave him a passionate kiss. “Besides, you look so much better as me.” Darkmon coaxed his new clone to sit in his lap and made out with his toy while Keane did his best to pleasure his new King.
He couldn't help but agree, though. He was far sexier as another Darkmon. ","writing":"","writing_bbcode_parsed":"","pools_count":0,"title":"Made in the image of The King~ By Achiga","deleted":"f","public":"t","mimetype":"image/png","pagecount":"1","rating_id":"2","rating_name":"Adult","ratings":[{"content_tag_id":"4","name":"Sexual Themes","description":"Erotic imagery, sexual activity or arousal","rating_id":"2"}],"submission_type_id":"1","type_name":"Picture/Pinup","guest_block":"t","friends_only":"f","comments_count":"2","views":"166","sales_description":null,"forsale":"f","digitalsales":"f","printsales":"f","digital_price":""}