== 6 -- Aion Ascendant ==
Zooming toward Jove station, Aion absentmindedly rubbed his dickhead as Princess Magna steered the chariot. Fontus-28 rapidly shrank to another one of a million glints across the heavens.
"For this purpose," the lady in red continued, "we'd like to recruit you. Just one mission, to expose the raider nest on your home habitat."
Magna gave him a smile that would probably have made a straight guy's dick instantly soften for emergency jizz-prevention.
A sense of deep calm settled in the muscleteen at the same time as an electric surge for action gripped his fibers. The scent of hyacinth and citrus came with a scalp-tingle as if he'd listened to a pleasant voice for hours.
"What do I do, radiant highness?" Aion asked, his hands now by his side, standing at attention in a light lat-spread.
"I'll give you another packet for Maximus. We're still fairly sure he had some relations with the raiders. Or someone around him does. His sources will inform him off important data you'll allegedly carry in addition to the one meant for him."
"I'm bait?" Aion said. "I mean, I shall act as a lure, your radiant highness. It's my pleasure."
Arc-dust strips broke formation around the princess and settled on him.
"You seemed to know how to use it," Magna said, "as responsibly as can be expected from a male. Talon Zeno will tell you the rest. We're almost back."
Aion bent his back and sucked his dick dry as the lady pulled her chariot between pale gray skyscrapers and gently set down beneath a rainbow bridge on ground level.
Her transmundane swans broke apart into human forms and marched with rhythmless steps to wherever the nearest Brain needed them to go. Aion hopped off the chariot as it fractured into mundane metal boxes that snapped to the nearest wall.
Zeno was waiting for them under a golden arch, lit by what light fell through the rainbow bridge above where hunks crossed.
The `talon' -- a commander of knight forces - was not in his knight-form to stay inconspicuous, just a normal 195 centimeter (6'5'') tall. He gave a bow to the princess, deep enough to kiss the dickhead of his 29 centimeter rod.
The disciplined hunk was a Parakeet going by his neck tattoos. His color was peach, plait mohawk and nose ring looking pale against his dark bronze skin. His right forearm was aglow with constellations Aion wasn't familiar with.
A phantomic circlet sat on his head. A peach-colored fulminare gem dangled off his ear, to give his motions greater power. A horseshoe piercing made his cockhead more inviting to sit on.
Dusty again, Aion could easily glean the muscleman's state with the lightest dip into psycher pulses. Zeno was anxious but hopeful. The fuck-marks on his chest would both fade within days and he hated going virginal. With a 66 day load saved up, he was eager for pussy.
"Greetings, mate-master, sir," Aion said and went into a squat. He swallowed the lightly precum dripping dick and bobbed his way down the shaft.
"Hey there, cunt," Zeno said. "You've been told the important part?" The talon pulled the muscleteen farther under the bride, checked that the princess was preoccupied with her tesseract and grabbed Aion by the neck to push him down. He humped the psycher's throat for a bit, making suppressed whimpering sounds until his dick slightly softened to prevent an accident.
"You'll be deputized," Zeno said as Aion rose. "That includes liberation rights and shit. You understand what the fuck that means?"
"Yes, fuck-master, sir."
The muscleteen could barely contain his excitement. He flexed his abs, rubbed his thighs and rode the edge as his dick turned ten percent soft.
The talon picked up a fingerless black glove from his hip strap. "Touch a dude with this shit and he gets liberated if you fucking will it. For disciplined ones, that's momentary. You've been temp-lib'ed before?"
"Sure, dick-sir. Feels weird as balls, walking the wrong way for a few steps and snapping the fuck out of it, then seeing something rush by that the Brains needed moved."
"Cumshot. For potent dudes, it's possibly for the fucking duration of a task, if that. Maximum one month of light liberation in severe as balls circumstances, not that you'll run into those."
"Right. And if he's indulgent..."
"One year plus whatever the Brains need. Consciousness only sporadic. Proper fucking liberation. Obviously, any criminal will be sentenced fucking properly. Nothing for you to jizz about."
"Fuck yeah."
"This is a covert mission. Don't use the glove unless you really fucking gotta, cunt. Keep it hidden."
Aion slipped into the glove. He let dust trickle over it and watched it fade. Invisible.
Magna was ready, too, having prepared the golden worm. The psycher dropped to his knees in front of her and accepted the packet.
From "Popular earth children's songs":
Humans once arcana shaped, to light far cosmic sights. // In gentle armor ever draped, we stride `cross astral nights.
Oh arc, light fire `round the stars. // Bedazzle earth and moon and mars.
Arcana won't you show the path, peace and prosperity. // Our ascension's aftermath, our daughters see with clarity.
Oh arc, light fire `round the stars. // Bedazzle earth and moon and mars.
Under the hues of Icarus' false sky, the herald on covert mission mingled with the loose crowd around a quartet of wrestling pits, each with a pair of teen-adonises vying for dominance, their semi-hard dicks flopping between their thighs as they gleamed oil slick. Most were Hillstars but this was the edge of their territory. Most wrestlers were potent, rings white, but some were even disciplined. Older hunks cheered from the edges.
First Feather Maximus was cheering among them, shouting instructions as a potent Hillstar muscleteen pulled a disciplined Penguin into a spladle. The loser remained spread with open legs, his hole accidentally covered by his thick semi flopping onto his crack. But both players' dicks hardened as they held position for the judge.
Aion sensed a half dozen overwhelming desires to jump into the pit and fuck the muscleteen senseless. With how many indulgent hunks there were around, the loser would probably get several loads fagged into him.
"Maximus, dick-sir?" Aion asked and gave the hunk's pecs a rub from behind.
"Ah, the psycher is here for another fucking go. Faunus told me there was more to jizz about."
"Not that I'd fucking know," Aion said. "Just the messenger and shit."
The crazy buff dude with orange as his color led the way. His immense back rippled as he swaggered, a fresh gracehoney constellation twinkling on color splotches at the base of his neck.
The duo had a hand on each other's dickhead, gently rubbing, as they made it to a row of six benches outside a glamour wine bar.
Two were stone sauna-benches, the lean musclemen fucking on them drenched in sweat. The other four were leatherglass, but equally occupied. Phantomic tablets held frozen cubes of glamour wine in different aromas.
The psycher herald and the first feather were about to squeeze themselves next to some cockriders when Faunus approached them.
Maximus' assistant with the pear green hair and white septum ring grabbed Aion across the pecs and pulled him around. "Better not fucking do it here. Too many suspicious as balls eyes on us lately. The Grand fucking Beak just said something about a second raider incident in as many fucking days."
As he spoke, an omen made itself known -- eyeballs squeezing out of dark corners. Vigilance. The psycher nodded.
"Good point, whore," Maximus said. "I heard some shit went down with a herald."
"Cumshot," Aion said and suppressed a grin. "Not super worried, don't jizz. Let's look for a spot."
Among the naked concretanium covered in graffiti of dicks and tits, they found a storage shed with wrestling mats and body oil barrels between fog-bleeding pipes.
Faunus stood guard outside, while the psycher and the suspected raider contact Maximus sank against a mat. Aion let the muscleman press himself on top of him and bottomed for a minute, riding the edge with sporadic making out.
Maximus' dick softened a tiny bit and his blissful, focused expression turned more neutral. "Ready, cunt?"
"Yeah."
They put their foreheads together and Aion let the message slip through his consciousness, briefly aware of its content but unable to hold onto it.
They spasmed and briefly blacked out.
Aion came to with the weight of Maximus pressing down on him and the muscleman's wrist-thick 25 centimeter (10'') still snuggly inside him.
Faunus had entered and towered over them with a grim expression. He held a phantomic device, a pearly outline of a tube with a trigger. A stunner, shit. And in his other hand was an extractor tube.
Aion brought the invisible glove down on Maximus to let his body get taken over by a Brain and commanded the vessel to get off him.
Faunus aimed the stunner and-
Aion lashed out with his psychic might, bolstered by hidden arc-dust.
Faunus flailed backward, his nerves cramping. Both devices fell. The semi-real stunner fractured into sprawling geometric patterns as it hit the ground.
The temp-liberated Maximus rose with slow, uncoordinated zombie moves. Aion pushed his way free, his abs involuntarily flexing as the top's dick slid from his guts.
The psycher let used-up glitter rain from his skin as he pushed himself against gravity to hasten his rise. Faunus was pulling something from thin air -- no, he had to carry invisible things.
Aion pushed his arms out and sent sparkling force at the enemy. With the grace of the arc on his side, he tore the veil around Faunus into wobbly bits. He followed up with a twirl, slamming his heel into the muscleman's chest.
Unreality around Faunus ripped. His chest strap carried several more items than it had seemed. There was an occlusion gem shard worked into the leather, keeping him undetected. So he was probably important to the raiders -- maybe even a leader of sorts. Cumshot.
Faunus had caught himself and started pummeling the muscleteen with his fists. Aion blocked competently but got leg-sweeped to the ground.
A knight burst through the door, which was just tall enough to accommodate him. He was armed with a wand, trying to make sense of the situation.
Before Aion could shout, Faunus pulled a ring from his chest strap onto his middle finger and sent waves of force at Aion and the knight. His impetus gem, getting squeezed for all it held.
The psycher let the force shove him into a pile of mats. He wasn't going to be able to reach the enemy with his glove but maybe if the knight shot-
Faunus pulled something else from his strap -- a palm-sized bar of compressed arc-dust. Unaffordable. He was obviously super high ranking with a criminal organization.
Transmundane particles in red and green filled the air as it grew heavy. The wall ruptured silently to create a hole for the delinquent to slip through, into darkness.
It was too small for a knight and already started closing.
Aion rushed in. No longer having to push against the impetus gem's force made his leg muscles practically catapult him into the wall space.
He crashed into pipes and clung on. It was a shaft. Where had the asshole gone? Dropped?
Aion heard noise above and glanced up. He burned arc-dust and lit up his skin where the glittering substance sat. Faunus was above, walking horizontally. He was using dust to make gravity go sideways.
Aion did the same. Running up a wall like it was floor felt weird.
He let his dick go semi-soft. Not that running made his dick swing in a way his muscles couldn't involuntarily compensate but he had to be battle ready. The semi-soft dick flopped on his thighs, drops of precum getting flung onto his quads.
His supply of unreality wouldn't be able to keep pace with entire bars worth of the illegal powder so he had to be fast. Running bent over in the narrow but high wallspace, Aion made it higher and higher along the buzzing pipes until he had nearly caught up to the culprit.
Faunus swung his glittering bar's remains and let it crumble. Bits of shimmering dust rained down -- coming right at the wall-running muscleteen. They flared to fireballs.
Aion dodged, giving Faunus enough time to get to the shaft's ceiling, kick a grate aside and jump out. Pipes melted on fireball impact and drenched the shaft in hot fog.
When Aion caught up and climbed from the vent he got to see Faunus' back as the muscleman made a superhuman jump over a rainbow hued vendor stall cover.
They were nearly at the fake sky, orange and purple and a few streaks of cyan almost close enough to touch. The large rooftop was a marketplace, crowded with adonises mingling, shopping and sucking themselves.
Aion burned a tiny bit of arc-dust around his eyes and zoomed in on Faunus as the dude vanished in the crowd. There was a leaplove constellation on the small of his back. Superhuman jumps. Fuck.
The teen-adonis felt the light prickling that came with an omen. Shadowy hands hovered over the crowd, perched and ready to nip down.
Aion gave himself a nod and made his way through the crowd by touching everybody ahead with his gloved hand. Hunk after hunk jolted as a dark hand gripped his face and made him amble out of the way. The hands retreated again from the minds of disciplined and potent hunks, but lingered on indulgent ones. They were liberated now, condemned to mindless labor.
Well, becoming indulged had been their choice. Also, it was hot as fuck to liberate random bitches.
Aion jumped into a fountain where a quartet of teens was sucking dick in a circle while bathing. Four indulgent assholes, cumming all day. He liberated them even though they were out of the way.
Faunus remained occluded so the Brains weren't going to tell Aion where to go. He had to find... Several hunks now formed a corridor for him and pointed, shouting for him.
A pillar into the sky.
Aion rushed to a shattered grate at the pillar's base, seeing the traces of spend arc-dust coating the melted edges.
Another dark upward travel. But this time there was a ladder and red emergency lights dotted the length. He lightened himself and climbed at superhuman speed.
Faunus was far ahead but had to stop at sluices. He had a new bar, spending liberally to make the round gates fade.
Aion nearly caught up when the enemy let another nearly spent bar crumble to make the walls bend and twist, closing in around the muscleteen.
Burning yet more of his own supply, Aion fought off the spatial attack, which gave Faunus enough time to slip into a side tunnel.
The psycher followed and found himself in a bath café. Pools of gold and silver water, ankle-, knee- or hip-high were stacked throughout a hall where hunks bathed, danced or chatted. Sauna benches ran along the walls where hunks sweated in the open, self-sucking their sweat dripping cocks.
Aion ran on the golden water surface as dancing musclemen made it splash around him. Burnt arc-dust trailed his steps. He liberated as he went to get them out of the way. Most were at least potent anyway, so it hardly mattered. And the odd indulgent bitch didn't matter either.
"Green Hillstar?" Aion asked. "Potent, light skinned."
An attendant waved at him. A disciplined, purple-haired Crane with snake bites made to match his septum ring. The hunk pointed as Aion neared. "Ran out on the street. I tried to go fucking after and shit but he jumped so high."
"Fucking leaplove constellation," Aion said. "Where the fuck'd he go?"
The Crane shrugged. "Didn't see."
Aion gave a nod and ran outside. He found himself in a rising canyon of dark, jagged metal and immense glass shards shining in prismatic light.
At the core of Jove lay an arrangement of repurposed colony ships and other early vessels, forming a substructure of open canyons and high tunnels.
Rainbow steam plumes veiled some of the surrounding. The muscleteen walked down steps into a loose crowd of adonises, mostly disciplined. He had no idea which way to go.
Something blurry moved in the corner of his vision.
His gaze fell on a plaque taller than himself. The Robin symbol, half eaten by rust, taken from the side of a First Arrival ship. As if to drive home what a disappointment he was to his order.
The symbol moved. Robins -- actual little birds -- broke from the metal and fluttered in circles. A premonition?
The swarm dashed off, through steam. Aion ran after.
The birds twirled around a screen of famous wrestler Urban the Parakeet getting spread in a spladle in his recent loss, the camera as interested in his hole as in his suffering face.
What did that mean?
The birds dashed through the displayed asshole, making the projection flicker -- just how close to real were these premonitions? -- and flew up the building behind it.
Halfway to the top was an ancient colony ship's turbine exhausts, worked into newer concretanium. Three tubes, easily eight meters (26') across. The ones on the side were covered in lit rosettes and inhabited, but the central one was a light waterfall of pink liquid collecting in a pool below, between a hairdresser and a capsule repair shop.
"I gotta get the fuck in there? Enter the hole?"
The robins were gone. He could only hope he had understood them right.
Musclemen grunted in surprise as the psycher jumped, glitter raining off him. With a half-scream, he got catapulted into the massive, century old exhaust and landed on pink water that played around his ankles.
Two figures up ahead in the dim light. One with a white gleaming nose ring -- Faunus - and one indulgent dude with no glow to his face.
They clearly saw the muscleteen splashing their way. No time for subtlety. Aion rushed in.
Faunus spun and gave the indulgent adonis a kick to the back, making him stumble at the pursuer. Aion and the stranger crashed loosely into each other, giving Faunus time to bolt while the now-liberated stranger tumbled aside.
Threads of silver and black seemed to trail after Faunus -- omens of unknown meaning -- as he ducked into a shaft that went diagonally up.
Aion followed him into darkness, ascending the man-high tube where exhaust, fuel and drainage ran under a half-ladder half-staircase. Metal creaked under the teen-adonis' stomping feet. He let the meager glow of his nose ring be enough, with a dash of arc-dust enhancement to his vision.
The Robin emerged into an alley barely wider than the tube, with graffiti-streaked concretanium reaching five stories up to either side. The iridescence of the cosmic welkin far above was reflected in puddles along the alleyway.
Faunus was nowhere to be-
The black and silver strings faded fast but they lead up. Aion spotted the raider leaping between walls, ever higher.
Four knights appeared at the alley entrance, wands ready.
"Up!" Aion shouted. "The fagger is going up."
Two knights tried to shoot up, the others ran around the building to the elevator. Aion burned arc-dust to rise. With fingers and toes ultra-sticky, the muscleteen climbed the wall nearly as fast as Faunus had leaped.
The roof of the building was a wide golden dome, intersected by many stained glass window strips. Faunus slid through an open one and dropped into the crowd inside.
Within was a social function of about a hundred hunks. Disciplined only. No women. By the plethora of fuck-marks, expensive jewels and constellations, these were some of the richer adonises across Jove. Waiters, recognizable by the white cuffs, walked around offering flutes of Diaphanous Mead imported from the earth system.
The chambers' walls were full-length mirrors except for large stained glass rosettes looking outside. With those mirrors and the bright white floor reflecting the crowd and the opalescent ceiling, spotting a single potent hunk was no easy task.
Aion reflexively got himself looped into the party's tunes. Ethereal, stately music had been chosen. Unobtrusive but with an edge of bombast.
There!
Faunus walked with measured steps, barely drawing attention between the better styled musclemen chatting or mutually riding cocks.
Aion followed, dropping down with no attempt at stealth. He projected his voice, arc-dust drizzling off his throat.
"That's a fucking raider. Stop him."
Faunus ran, one hand going to his chest belt. He was out of dust bars but... the indulgent stranger had handed something over to the Hillstar. A red egg.
A premonition. The room flooded, musclemen swept into abyssal depth, violent waves crashing overhead.
"It's an f-bomb!" Aion shouted.
A dozen knights barreled in through a white and gold door. The crowd's murmurs turned louder. Several party goers threw themselves at the hunted criminal.
Faunus raised the hand holding the egg and closed his eyes. Wand fire zoomed across the crammed space. Faunus' impetus gem tossed the egg toward the ceiling.
The f-bomb went off in a flash of silver and black.
The blast wave itself felt like little more than a stiff breeze. Then came the inevitable edge.
Aion felt his orgasm approaching. Even with his dick semi-soft there was no stopping the shot from happening. His body was spasming hard enough to keep him from walking as the load approached the point of no return.
He fought, arc-dust drizzling in glittery streams off his skin.
All around, aegis gems went off and wrapped individuals into defensive bubbles. Even some glacies gems burst on their circlets and bracelets to keep harmful effect on the wearer locked in frozen time. Safespell constellations shone and rippled across skin.
Aside from those few lucky, guarded hunks, everybody convulsed. A hundred cumshots went off. Grunts of pleasure and cries of frustration filled the space.
Geysers of white goo exploded across the room, musclemen who had been fucking were desperately fagging into the hole they had casually used while they got their faces splattered by the bottom's shots. Other chatting duos fell into each other and fagged fast and recklessly to at least keep from void-jizzing.
Echo pips all over the room reset triple and even quadruple digit numbers to zero. A hundred septum rings turned white.
Aion fought himself into a slow, stumbling walk. He was resisting. His dick had fully hardened but the arc-dust protected him. Precum squirted from the tip and drizzled along his shaft.
The entire knight battalion had collapsed.
A dozen giant hunks were fading to regular size as they lose their discipline and with it the privilege of knighthood. Their wands no longer reacted to them.
Faunus was jogging around the pile of ex-knights, toward the elevator -- no, beyond it, into the corridor.
Aion managed to speed walk even as his knees stayed weak. The next wave was washing over the room and a second round of cum geysers erupted everywhere. Nearly every hunk had found a hole to stick his dick into by now, but the existing cum splatters made the area treacherous for someone on shaky legs.
Rings started going unlit as rich and powerful musclemen turned to indulgent nobodies.
Catching up to Faunus over and over wasn't going to cut it with what little arc-dust the psycher had left. He needed a decisive win -- to break the barrier that kept the Brains from doing their job.
Aion stepped over two muscleteen-waiters who were on the floor fucking each other, screaming into each other's shoulders. Ibises with one fuck-mark each. Neither of them would be able to do this job again for another ten days at least, and neither was going to get mated in as long.
Aion picked up a shattered mead flute and broke into a run. He was properly in control again and made after Faunus, the sharp crystal fragment in hand.
He had to use the glove liberally to get anywhere. Hunks were fucking and cumming, many for the third time, all over the place, with no regard for him. As soon as his palm was in reach, they jolted aside. Many even shrank to pixies. The Brains were on the case as much as they were able and Aion was going to do his part.
Faunus had made it to a balcony and jumped. His constellation let him leap from wall to wall on the way down. Aion wasn't sure he had enough arc-dust left to do the same. If he dropped he was likely to splatter on the ground.
Unless...
The Robin jumped.
Faunus pushed himself off a wall at the expected trajectory and the psycher fell right onto him.
The two adonises slammed into a stained glass window and bounced as a bundle of limbs toward the street.
Aion rammed the broken crystal into Faunus' skin, slicing where the leather chest belt was in reach while pulling on the strap at the same time.
The belt broke apart.
Faunus freed himself with a kick and grabbed onto a ledge, letting the muscleteen fall.
The occlusion gem shard was gone. Faunus was vulnerable to detection. If Aion had been able to touch him with the glove one last time...
But his work was done. He fell. In half a second the ground would meet his spine and-
His drop slowed. A gleam surrounded him and he struggled into a vertical position as he was deposited gently enough to stay standing.
A Parakeet knight, peach as his color. It was Zeno the Talon, now 235 centimeter (7'8'') tall. One of the many overlapping, interlaced constellations on his forearm sparked until Aion's feet were on solid ground. The talon's semi-soft dick slapped the teen-hunk in the face as the knight commander pulled him along.
"Good cunt. Almost got him," Zeno said. "Around the corner."
Aion hurried after the knight's mighty steps, into a smaller alley where polychromatic fog crept from a ring of vents that connected the gothic structures to either side.
Faunus was there, bleeding from cuts. But he was not alone anymore.
Another raider, this one wearing the iridescent full-head hood, had joined him with a bar of compressed arc-dust on hand.
"Jizzer," Aion shouted. "Give the fuck up."
"Fag you," Faunus said.
Zeno fired his wand and the red beam bounced off a prismatic aegis. The two criminals slipped into the fog and it hardened to a solid wall.
The talon shot at it but got nowhere. He turned away. "Gotta check with a Brain if he's been the fuck acquired."
"I got him," Aion said, grinning and hitting a lat spread.
"The fuck? You're a psycher, cunt?"
"Yes, sir. Got his signature. This way."
Chants of the Arcana, verse 56:
All-connecting lineages, a vision rendered by mental prowess. Man unto man shall be joining the celebration of oneness. Reaching even through night, the final demesne of the Arc, your aggregate souls will see lasting liberty.
Keeping someone's psy-trace wasn't easy, especially since his jobs had never required him to train that skill, but Aion was so worked up, he was willing to drain his mental reserves to finish the betrayer on his terms.
As they entered a main road, Zeno was joined by six other knights in phantomic armor -- transparent plates with an opaline sheen hovering just an inch over their skin.
One of them slapped something onto Zeno and the same armor appeared on him.
Aion continued to rush ahead. "I can't... the fagger's going deeper, but I don't see a way down and shit."
Zeno only gave a nod toward a hunk under his command and a wand opened a tunnel down, melted from the road itself, pointing into the substructure.
The talon activated his ring and a gleam traced all present adonises.
Aion jumped first. "Fuck yes, we're practically dropping the fuck on top of that void-jizzer. We're... shit, I lost it."
They landed in an uneven street, where neon lights wrapped around mirrors among dark metal structures. The few present hunks moved aside for them.
"All suddenly and shit?" Zeno asked. "Or gradual?"
"Instant as balls, sir."
"Cumshot. Gotta be their headquarter. Lucian, call backup."
"Sir," a knight said and started drawing a free constellation into the air with power from his bangle.
"Aion," Zeno said. "Where was he?"
The muscleteen indicated. It was almost cave-like. Jagged plates colliding between two narrow buildings like a cut off back alley.
Three wands tore the plates away and tossed them aside with ear shattering noise.
"Aion? You can stay behind."
"Yes, fuck-master, but I'd rather see this the fuck through."
"Then just don't get in the way, cunt."
What counted as a basement was rather vague in the substructure welded from the parts of century old interstellar vessels but they were clearly moving into some place's abandoned basement.
With the knights up ahead, Aion saw little more than round, striated glutes before him.
Lightning zapped and voices shouted.
"The shroud halo," Zeno yelled, followed by a crack-like explosion.
The knights parted and finally Aion got to see the chamber. A dozen raiders had been battle ready, taking cover behind sofas, upturned tables and crates of junk. Most wore hoods. Faunus's skin was healed. He wielded a gray tube.
The shattered remains of a red wheel clattered on the ground. The headquarter was no longer shrouded from the Brains.
"Area stun incoming," a knight announced.
Something immaterial washed over the psycher and the raiders slumped to the ground, overwhelmed by tiredness.
Aion slipped past the knights who had lowered their weapons.
"Roll them the fuck up," Zeno said. "I'll liberate, you search the room and shit."
Aion tapped the talon on the ass. "Can I get a fucking sec with the traitor, sir? I own him revenge."
Zeno shrugged. "I'll save him for last. You got until the lady commissioness shows up."
"Cumshot. Thanks, sir. Can you lend me a hand for just a moment?"
Aion slipped out of the liberation glove and put it on a crate. He laid himself on top of Faunus, who weakly struggled against sleep, and threaded his leg into the raider's.
Facing almost no resistance, the Robin pulled Faunus into a splade, spreading the hunk's thick, creamy white legs as far as they went, the opponent's knees bending reflexively.
Both Aion and the raider were still semi-soft. The psycher gave a nod to Zeno and the talon crouched down and fingered Faunus' ass open until he was slick enough to enter.
The knight commander grinned as he shoved Faunus' dick into the muscleman's own hole, making the delirious dude fuck himself. It was long enough to enter a good 15 centimeter (6'') with ease -- more when the knight pushed it.
"Now, bitch," Aion said. "Fag yourself."
He pushed his last sliver of arc-dust into a psychic attack, sending the defenseless, half-asleep raider into a horny frenzy.
Zeno left them, so Aion reached forward with one hand and kept the spladled Faunus' dick self-fucking his guts.
"Come one... you gotta be horny as balls, fag already."
Faunus mumble-grunted and his dick root twitched, hardening just a bit. His septum ring turned clear. He fagged himself.
Aion's dick hardened so fast it slapped Faunus in the face and a squirt of precum flung past it onto Aion's lips. The sexy humiliation revenge was complete.
The muscleteen extracted himself from the configuration, letting Faunus lay spread eagle with his dick still in his ass, and wiped his precum off his face to lick it. Cum bubbled in drizzles from the raider's hole, past his self-fucking semi-hardon.
Zeno had taken the liberation glove Aion had left behind and touched Faunus with it. The hunk jolted but didn't otherwise move.
After a minute of search and cleaning, the lady commissioness arrived.
"Her venerated highness," Zeno announced, "Baroness Mercuria."
The knights and Aion knelt, facing their own hardons. A taste of elderberry spread in the psycher's mouth, together with a sense of pleasant nostalgia. His eyes watered as the relaxation of a foot-and calve-massage hit him all at once. He wobbled as he knelt on one knee, all nervous tension leaving him.
Two crossing strips of arc-dust silvered the figure of the olive skinned lady commissioness. She wore tight blue robes with fluttering, jeweled appendages, and a Parakeet embroidery on her shoulder cloth. Her bright hair flowed in three long braids with rainbow bands woven in.
"Truly," she said once Zeno had filled her in. "It's a major raider cell, right under our noses. And with the logs of the crashed speeder, we seem closer than ever to figuring out Electra's wandering nest. Excellent work, my son."
Zeno rose, clapped his hands together in front of his dickhead and bowed so deep the crown of his peach mohawk nearly swiped the floor.
"Thank you, mother."
"And you," the baroness said and turned to Aion. "I hear from Magna you did a lot more work than expected. And again, I find you here."
Aion looked up at the women hovering before him. "Venerated highness, I've only done my best to be mateworthy, uh, in a homo way."
"Truly," she said again. "The knights will have to take care of this scene now. You are released, Aion the Robin. For you excellent services to Olympio, I grant you a lifetime exception."
Aion couldn't help but grin wide. "My gratitude, venerated highness Mercuria."
A lifetime exception. He had a get-out-of-liberation free card if he was ever indulgent and called on, his debts were forgiven up to a certain maximum, he could put himself on any woman's recommendation list, or put someone else on there -- or take somebody off.
But most importantly he got to cum without it counting against discipline. For the second time in one day. He had barely an hour's worth of horniness since the last cumshot and already felt like he was ready to burst. Indulgence without having to watch his blue ring lose its luster.
He swaggered outside, his heart racing, and slipped through a devouring basin to clean up and let the icy chill clear his head.
Walking the unfamiliar, winding paths of the substructure he found the nearest Brain hanging in a web of cables between an extrasensory candle shop and a gamma-cloud rental. He requested the vision of him making Faunus fag himself with the ability to move around the scene.
The Brain requested the processing fee. The muscleteen paid by kissing his leaking dickhead and sucked himself dry while he was at it. He send a viewing-mindlink to all his dorm mates and a few other friends.
Then he requested a telespeech mindlink to his sister Ambrosia to tell her what the day had been like.
With all his obligations behind him, he found the nearest assembly of adonises.
It was a public steam shower, iridescent plumes at various temperatures and effects rising from the ground for dudes to walk through or stand in. There were a dozen visitors.
Three erect musclemen pissed on the absorption-mat off to the side. One disciplined muscleteen, two indulgent musclemen.
Aion joined them, letting his hands wander over their back muscles as they sprayed forceful streams up, to let the drops rain down.
"Hey bitches," the psycher said. "I got a fucking exception. Anyone up for a fuck?"
"Fag for fag?" an indulgent Owl with a buzzed purple mohawk asked.
"Sure as balls," Aion said. "I want buildup, though."
"An hour? Two?"
"Cumshot."
The disciplined teen-adonis -- Swan with emerald as his color - groped Aion's chest. "Ha, Rufus never lasts more than ten fucking minutes. I can do buildup."
"Thanks. I'm Aion."
"Virgil," the emerald muscleteen said. "Let's get wet as balls."
The four stepped into the shower plumes where the indulgent hunks immediately crashed together and fucked each other, lips locked, hips slapping together in mutual dicking-down.
Aion and Virgil found a good spot between two steam vents were liquid playfully sprayed on them and slipped their dickheads into each other for a few minutes of teasing.
Aion hadn't even told Virgil he was a cunt. As much as he preferred anal only, he was going to get that free cumshot. The second one for today, he kept reminding himself. Was this how Gordian felt all the time? That seemed too amazing to be true. Fuck, that dorm mate really was a bad influence.
From "Olympio Proverbs":
When one sun sets, two more rise.
Aion stood with legs apart, bent onto the terrace railing's golden arches and watched the neon streaks of the Olympio navy fleet paint a trail from the docks toward the Aurelia asteroid field where the raider headquarter was supposed to dwell. Maybe this time false princess Electra's evasive bulk of kludged together ships wouldn't have time to escape.
Twenty floors above the main streets of Jove, Aion got pounded by the thick 25 centimeter (10'') of Cassius, as thanks for putting the short hunk on the recommendation list. The crimson haired, stocky adonis had made it to disciplined status and was practicing his stamina.
Next to them, Gordian was sucking himself on a mat, laying on his back, legs in the air with his toes next to his head. Indulgent as always.
Most of the mat was taken up by Tarquin, oil wrestling with two hunks he'd invited over, all three shimmering in the prismatic light of the cosmic welkin all around and a fresh constellation below Tarquin's navel.
Before the mirrored walls in the back of the terrace were three projections of various matches of the Heron senior wrestling league and a Quogball match from Styx station that Cornelio had put on -- a station so far at the edge of Olympio it took a day for the footage to arrive.
"When's the move, cunt?" Cassius asked.
"Not anytime soon, don't jizz," Aion said. "Not desperate as balls to move out. I mean, having my own place would be a cumshot but I want a good money cushion."
Next to them, Gordian's dick slipped wetly from his own throat. "Fag you," he said with a chuckle in his hoarse voice. "You got the most fucking money here, herald cunt."
"I won't, if you jizzer keep mooching, hehe."
Tarquin lost and was pulled into a double-spladle with each of the hunks pinning an arm and a leg. His hole pointed right at his friends.
"Uh, Gordian?" Tarquin said, his voice raw through his compressed chest. "Are you just gonna void-jizz again or are you gonna let me save your dignity?"
Gordian straightened and crawled over to the wrestling loser to fag into his ass while the hunks kept him pinned. Tarquin got hard.
"We'll keep hanging out, right?" Gordian asked before taking Tarquin's hardening dick in his mouth as he sank all the way into the dorm mate's hole.
"You can jizz on that," Aion said. "I have no fucking doubt, the second I buy a place, you bitches are going to crash it."
Cassius slapped the psycher's ass as he humped it. "Every fucking day, cuntboy. You want us to. Can't let that homo hole get lonely."
Aion looked back and grinned. "Cumshot, sir."
The End
If you enjoyed this tale, please let me know.
Creating a special atmosphere was my main goal, but I hope the plot was fun to follow and the characters were easy to paint on your mind's canvas.
May the grace of the shining arcana be with you. Be mateworthy. Stay disciplined.