*** Seven Charges of Flex-Dance Power*** *** Chapter Three ***
Our next destination was the middle of a broad street. It was nighttime but we hurried to the sidewalk in case a car would rush through.
Makoto had his shoes – and the scrunchie – but nothing else. Even his phone had stayed behind. He cursed a lot in Japanese.
This left Ivo's phone as our last line to Thane, the self-proclaimed counselor.
I had lost the gym bag but it had been empty anyway.
Back in my sneakers and shorts, now quite oily, I addressed our surrounding. "Does anyone know where we are? Or where the locus is?"
"Let's just find it," Ivo said. "Spread out but don't lose sight. And if it gets quiet, we meet up here."
Makoto was still worked up but he nodded. "Sounds like a fucking plan. But let's first look for a red box. Thane sent a gift against fucking bloodsuckers."
We made our rounds. I didn't spot the box but I did feel a pull on my calves. Heat was flooding and ebbing in the area, gently beckoning me toward a big, old building. A museum. I glanced back at the two boys still searching the box and walked forward a bit, around the corner.
There were no conveniently open windows or anything of the sort. Disappointing.
"Hey," I said as I got back to the others. "The locus is inside the museum. No idea how to break in."
Ivo grinned. "Thane figured we'd be stuck at a closed door sooner or later. He taught me a few more spells than just teleporting."
I really regretted forgetting my phone. I would have liked some contact to this counselor myself.
Makoto found the red box. "Wow, this is fucking heavy," said the naked, Asian muscle boy with sharp tan lines.
Inside the gift box were three circles of metal. Ivo looked at his phone. "Those are silver," he said. "Thane thinks it'll be a vampire det... de-ter-rent?"
"It will keep them off," I said. "I suppose they harvest through the neck. Makes sense."
The collars were made of small, overlapping plates, which let us adjust the size. We picked one each, made it fit tightly around the neck and snapped it shut.
A car drove by. It was too fast for us to bother hiding, but the driver appeared to notice us anyway since the car honked. Well, I had never gone streaking before.
"Hm..." Ivo said. "I can't feel the collar locking mechanism. I don't even know where the lock is anymore."
"Of course," Makoto said. "Wouldn't want the fucking vampires to just take it the fuck off like it's nothing or... Did it get really fucking quiet?"
Looking left and right we spotted a huge, dark blob moving at the end of the street.
We ran toward the museum's back.
"Can you fight?" Ivo asked the Japanese muscle boy. "With magic?"
"No I just drove the fuck away."
Ivo handed over his phone. "Read this. It's how to get in. I'll hold the Stalker off. As long as it's only one I should be able to do it."
We arrived at the emergency exit and Makoto read Thane's instructions, while slipping out of his shoes.
By the time I had stripped, Makoto was already dancing his flex-dance.
"Donnie," Ivo called out. "Come here. Load up on energy. We fight."
We stomped on the grassy ground and hammered our thighs to open up to the magic at top speed. Ivo hit the abs-thigh pose over and over and over. Meanwhile I gyrated my hips in a hectic lap dance – ass out, then flexing back in, always thrusting.
The Stalker came closer at below walking speed.
I looked behind me where Makoto was dancing on the stairs. He had apparently taken a quick lesson from us, because he hit the most muscular pose as he creamed a string of gold onto the door's lock.
The lean muscle boy rattled the door but to no effect. He started dancing from the legs again, preparing to cast the spell anew.
With the Stalker only moments away, Ivo ran forward, screaming.
He stopped a few steps in front of the distorted solid smoke pillar. The thick boy flexed his arms as if doing curls, tensed his whole boy and shouted at the creature.
He thrust his hips forward with every shout, sending white gold shots into the Stalker's body.
"Uaaa!" Ivo screamed as he hip thrusted the projectile away. "Uaa!" Another. "Uaa. Yeaaah! Take! That! Fuuuck! Haaah!"
Each hit punctured the Stalker's form and it broke into shards. They stayed in the air, slowly reforming.
"Hey Donnie, think you can-" Ivo turned around to face me and his eyes widened.
I whipped around to see a Stalker towering above me. It had moved into range – in total silence, of course.
I thrust my hip at it and screamed, more with fear than aggression.
Maybe it was because I didn't want to fight, but the spell took a different form for me. My cum string shot up from my dick, moved to point a curve at the threat and broke into a web.
The moment my orgasm ceased, the glowing cum turned into a spreading web of viscous cum lines.
It made the Stalker stay back, even lean away. The creature couldn't touch my shield.
The webbed shield stayed connected to my dick as I stepped toward the stairs behind me. But it was already fading.
"Ha!" Makoto shouted as the door opened under his touch.
Ivo rushed inside and I followed, walking backward to keep the Stalker at a distance. Walking past the entrance, I saw the lock, partly melted away by Makoto's spells.
My shield faltered and we ran. Ivo carried my clothes, for which I was grateful. I hadn't thought about them.
We ran up some stairs, into a room full of masks. The place was in darkness so I couldn't tell what was being exhibited.
"Better fucking hurry," Makoto said. "We must have made some fucking silent alarm go off."
"Yeah," Ivo said. "This is the locus. Let's bind and get the fuck out."
We hit our poses – flexing and dancing. At this point, I wasn't even getting soft in between castings. My horniness was not fully unloaded by the magic orgasms.
Hand-free was too close to a ruined orgasm to fully work, I suppose.
With our dicks already semi hard, we could finish the binding in under a minute. In the low light from the outside streetlamps our three glistening bodies moved with the flow of magic.
Charged cum fizzled out as our loads were spend to thicken the lines of our star tattoos. Now my star was nearly full. Only a bit in the middle was missing.
"Let's move the fuck higher," Makoto said and walked off.
I agreed. "Yeah. We should cast the teleport as far away from the Stalker as possible. Any idea where we're going?"
The Japanese boy handed the phone back to Ivo and said. "No fucking clue, but Thane texted he found a way to make casting faster, so he'll have another fucking gift waiting."
I wondered, "Doesn't that imply he knows where we're going already?"
"Nope," Ivo said. "He sends stuff to us by interfering with our teleport spell. The gifts follow where we do."
The staircase didn't go any higher so we started the flex-dance. I hadn't know how exhausting it was just to tense your muscles over and over, but my body was getting weak. The leg flexes almost hurt. Magic helped by warming me up inside and massaging my muscles as it flowed up and around.
With ass flexes and hip thrusts I made it stream higher, but my back was also getting sore. The night had brought a lot of excitement and my spine wasn't too happy.
We slammed together again as our oiled up dicks slapped each other upon meeting. The orgasm brought me quick relieve but it also kept adding to the residual horniness.
I snatched my shoes off the ground and started falling. Wait, where had Ivo dropped my other clothes? Ah, there. I reached out and... a white gold storm.
We hit asphalt. My shirt was nowhere to be seen. Well, that was the first time I had made a donation to a museum.
It was a back alley again, but much filthier. Thumping music echoed inside the narrow space. It came from a night club right next to us.
"Yo, I found it!" Makoto said. He held up a red box. "The fucking gift that will make us cast faster."
It contained three black anal plugs labeled `large' and one tiny packet of lube.
Makoto tore the pack open, estimated one-third of it and squished that part out on a plug. He crouched down, brought it to his hole, grimaced hard and... got back up – plugged.
"Come on," he said. "Don't be fucking cowards. Get it the fuck in already."
"And..." I said. "That's going to help?"
The boy carved from marble shrugged. "If Thane fucking said so. We can't rub one out, needs to be fucking hands-free, but we can help along with a prostate massage."
I took a plug. It felt silky smooth.
Makoto distributed the lube between mine and Ivo's. I crouched down and lined it up with my hole. I missed a few times. How had Makoto found his way in so easily?
Once I had the tip in, the rest slipped past my resistance easily, hurting only a bit – like a sting along my whole sphincter.
It was a thoroughly weird sensation to be stuffed by something hard like that. But I could see it aiding us. My dick was hardening from the backdoor stimulation already. Weird.
Ivo was the last one to get plugged.
We all moved awkwardly now, with our legs a bit farther apart and our backs straighter, as if we had been impaled.
The Croatian guy paced and mumbled in his native tongue. "Too weird. I don't like it."
"Hey," I said. "Can you feel the current? I think the locus is inside the club."
"Let's fucking try," Makoto said, "if the plug does what it fucking should."
He walked up to the emergency exit and gyrated his hips while massaging his thighs. This time the spell to melt the lock worked on first try. I had no way to measure the time but it didn't feel much faster.
The naked Japanese boy and we two boys in gym shorts entered the building. There was a short, dark corridor to the club space. The music was already too loud to talk normally.