Vortex Quest

By Abra Cadabra

Published on May 21, 2023

Gay

== VORTEX QUEST 6-5 ==

== PRO-PIRACY MEASURES ==

Co-captain Xane, no, Captain Xane proudly commanded the Sneak Attack.

His gloriously sculpted and freshly Troll-fucked body sparked with thaum-magic happily dancing along his veins. His rock hard dick pushed the golden thong away from his crotch as he creamed a dollop, his unseen mage-tongue licking the cockhead clean.

"In sight range, Master Xane," Helmslizard Helping Bite said and lowered a spyglass with two hands while the other two fiddled with the console.

"Seventh," Xane shouted. "Camouflage!"

"Ay!"

The vision bubble expanded around the vessel while the Hellion crew took in the wing sails. Xane saw himself fade. Things inside the bubble remained visible to the people within it, but they still turned translucent.

"Ready?" Marcus asked.

"Yep," Xane said and rearranged his finally softening dick. "Team Fame & Fortune heading out."

Named for their shining golden thongs, Fame & Fortune walked to the side of the ship, where a single step would take them over the railing. Seventh and Twelfth were waiting with rolls of rope, one end tied to the hull pillars.

Then they waited for the fifty foot long barge Blackened Etching to make its way right underneath them.

When the target was just a minute way, Xane gave the signal and slapped fittingly red bat wings on Seventh's back.

Fame & Fortune and their Hellion companion jumped, floating gently but fast to the target ship.

Xane dismissed the fancy wings as soon as they dropped onto the Etching's stern. He couldn't afford to keep free thaum tied up.

Marcus burn-chopped through webbing between arches and they slipped in, onto a storage area.

"Kobold," Xane said, his mage-hand instantly at the creature's throat.

Marcus raised his straight leg above his head and held it there effortlessly – sexy as balls. A shot of glitter from the animus-fighter's toe ring landed in the choking Kobold's face and he went down, clawing at his rope-belt. Seventh dragged him between crates and began searching the cargo.

Xane summoned a `flash grenade' bolt into his left hand and nodded at his demigod teammate.

Fame & Fortune advanced into the next area, a galley with hammocks. Five Kobolds were lounging, or doing light work. One Goblin was having a blood-dripping sandwich.

Xane sent the flash bang into the center and a deafening thunderstrike sent the crew to the ground, intense light flooding the room and not letting off.

"You..." Marcus started.

"I put up a sound barrier," Xane said. "No one else aboard heard this."

"Cool cool. Just checking, partner."

As the demigod duo cleared the room, incapacitating enemies with unicorn dust, Seventh poked his head in.

"I've found their treasure but the chest seems trapped."

"Can you move the whole thing without triggering it?"

"I think so."

"Then we just take the chest, okay? Marcus, everybody jerking it? Man, I never thought the sight of Goblin dick was going to make me crave."

Marcus slapped his own ass. "My hole's twitching, too, but the show much go on."

"Yup. Seventh, prep the net. Fame & Fortune are advancing."

The next room was finally the slave storage. A whopping eight loopy hunks were rubbing themselves on each other, sweaty hairless skin sliding in the dark.

Xane grabbed a metal chain, dampened the sound around it, and put it in front of the door to the rest of the Etching. While he secured the chain in place with metal-shaping, Marcus pulled up the shades and made them waddle along.

By the time the last slave was in the cargo room, Seventh had secured a green, shimmering chest with a skull for a lock inside a net.

"We're about to be right under the Sneak Attack," the Hellion announced.

Fame & Fortune corralled the bald, musclebound humans into the web, while Seventh secured the ties. Like fish about to get reeled in, the crammed slaves wiggled and squirmed. Xane held up the web's hook with his mage-hand while they made sure no slave was getting crushed.

"Ready?" the muscle wizard asked.

Marcus sliced a large hole into the ceiling of webbed arches and Xane sent the signal up, a green shot of sparks.

The Sneak Attack decloaked, having sunk within a dozen yards of the Blackened Etching. Twelfth lowered the rope and Marcus jumped up to grab the dangling end and tie it to the web's hook.

An alarm horn sounded at the helm of the Etching.

"Done," Marcus said.

Xane conjured a second green flare and the web got pulled up.

He slapped wings on Seventh again and watched the warrior ascend.

Fame & Fortune both glanced at the frantically masturbating Kobold and its dick's promising bulges and studs.

"Turn around," Xane ordered, pushed Marcus' fundoshi strap aside and shoved the head of his magically lubed dick into the eager hole. "Fuck our way up?"

"Ay, captain," Marcus said and twisted his body around to grin at Xane with ease.

The wizard shoved his dick in all the way, gave himself butterfly wings and rose, holding the lithe Marcus wrapped in his beefy arms and legs.

Fucking his definitely-not-boyfriend felt just as good as fucking girls on earth ever had – which was about five percent of the pleasure sex in the abyss had to offer.

On this maddening note, Fame & Fortune rose past the web of slaves, where thick arms and legs stuck out from the meat-chaos, lazily waving as the Hellions pulled the catch up.

Xane had half a mind to make the Etching explode for a more dramatic escape but they weren't here to murder, only to steal.

He nibbled on Marcus' tan neck as he pumped his first of surely half a dozen cumshots into the man's ass.

===***===

MEANWHILE...

After striking down so many of Marcus' silly name suggestions lately, Chay had accepted his team name: Drab & Dreary, after their black fundoshi.

Drab & Dreary had headed into a Goblin mining town where abominations discovered in the mines and adjacent caverns were brought to fight to the death.

Today was especially busy, with a whole six slaves waiting for the winner.

Chay had bet on his addition to the fighter pool – the very abominable Goro.

To avoid standing out, Chay had rented a young Goblin for a penta-obol, the miner Krang Krong, to playact as the owner of both slave Chay and abomination Goro.

Krang Krong had an orange kilt, held up by a bone-studded bandolier where his knife collection hung. He and Chay stood at the back of the arena, which was little more than a ring of stone blocks around a sandpit.

Goro dug his fists into an armored blob with antlers, spraying green goo everywhere as he ripped and shredded, his black ponytail flinging monster blood as it ran along the strands.

Chay didn't even need to help. If anything, he only took control of the enemies to make them seem more threatening and competent.

Originally the leader had promised to take over fighting duty, but Goro was too much in his element. With the aegis in his tiny black pouch, he could fully focus like in the good old days.

Chay on the other hand was quite distracted. Even ignoring his own raging erection, his eyes kept getting drawn to the white tattoos on Krang Krong's abs, pointing at his `third thigh' bulge.

Chay flicked the distracted Goblin's stud-pierced nipples. The reaction was irritation but also lust. Bingo.

"Ever fucked a slave?" Chay asked.

"They can't take it," the greenskin said.

"I can."

"...Here?"

"Who's watching?"

Krang Krong did a quick scan of the crowd ahead. Chay went to his knees, lifted the kilt and started to rub and lick the rapidly hardening blob-dick.

His ass was still lubed enough from the `whisting' stroll Drab & Dreary had taken before arena enrollment. Krang Krong's precum did the rest.

Standing with legs apart, head lowered but eyes still on the arena, Chay got Goblin-dick wrecked while he squeezed pathetic penile orgasms from his dick, trying to turn his mind to the anal pleasure alone.

A new contender entered the ring. A thick, four legged beast, black feather covered and nearly shapeless from the strength of light absorption. No discernable head. Goro went in.

Chay could finally let his softening dick hang, while Goblin juice dripped off the straps of his fundoshi as it hung between his legs. Sex in public was pretty exciting. It had been low of his list of fantasies but life in the abyss didn't call for decorum and a good reputat-

The beast in the arena `opened up'. Small limbs along its formless body spread many randomly placed wings, Fury-feather patterns shimmering on them.

The crowd fell silent as hypnosis froze their thoughts. Goro's stride broke, his fist unclenching as he lowered his arm.

A wave of sexual bliss beyond what the human body was made for shook Chay out of his catatonia. He made the abomination his puppet and looked down. He extracted his mind from sex paradise and closed the beast's wings that were pointed at the berserker.

Fucking himself on the paralyzed Goblin's dick, Chay glanced at the arena.

Goro realized what had happened, his eyes wandering over the stilled crowd.

He steeled himself. Chay could tell he had a plan but what-

Goro's eyes rolled back into his head. All the way. He must have flexed the upper eye muscle hard enough to snap the lower one, leaving him permanently looking at the inside of his sockets, until he allowed the damage to heal.

Chay let go of his puppet, giving the creature a fair fighting chance.

Navigating only by the feather rustle and sand-stomps, Goro zoned in on the creature and pummeled, each hit tearing out feathers on the retreat. Each counterattack by a wing flap was evaded. Goro did flips over the lumbering beast just to show off.

The creature got shoved from side to side by the blind berserker whirlwind, various segments of the audience unfreezing as no hypno-patterns were pointed at them. Mild panic broke out as people realized the fight had effectively left the confines of the ring but Goro's victory was obvious.

Krang Krong grunted as his mind came back online. He slapped his green hands on Chay's ass and fucked with new vigor.

Watching Goro have fun only heightened Chay's enjoyment. No sports performance had ever worked on him like this.

===***===

Two of their hard won shades had gone right into the Sneak Attack's generator to keep the ship afloat.

Diego had returned from his market tour with a roll of gold fabric and asked Xane to help with making a jockstrap, or multiple.

Surprisingly, Goro volunteered to join the jockstrap crew. Or maybe not so surprisingly now that the muscleman had chosen to live his life anally.

The end result left Chay as the only black-clad demigod. Diego and Goro had matching gold, sparkling jockstraps with pouches just big enough to contain their nuts and the tiny aegis dome.

"Hm," Xane made. "It lacks the stage-poser aesthetic, but I'll admit it's hot as balls."

"The faggiest thing I've ever seen," Marcus added. "Not really a complaint."

Goro flexed, letting mania-power pulse his muscles. "You should join me. All of you."

"I'll think about it," Marcus said.

Xane ran his fingers through his mohawk. "I know that sounds ridiculous but jockstraps feel like a step too far. Boss?"

Chay shrugged.

"Come on," Goro said with a grinning nod at Chay's crotch. "Be a team player."

"I'm sticking to timeless black for now," Chay said, eager to change the topic to something that let him avert his gaze from Goro's thighs. He couldn't handle how desperately he wanted lick his way up them and dig into the Japanese hunks hole.

"How about you," Chay quickly added toward Diego. "New hair to match the gang?"

The warder reached for his hair. "Marcus keeps prodding me into getting a cockhawk, but that, to quote the wizard, feels like a step too far. I guess I can always heal it back, so... fine. Xee, I've made my choice."

Xane clapped his hands. "At last. Sit down on this."

Diego crouched on a Daemon mage-cock, not having to remove the jockstrap. He shot Marcus a look as if he say `see how practical'.

Chay sank into a casual cuddle with Goro – tweaking each other's nipples - and watched the artist work.

Diego had chosen a whip motive. This weapons had been his divine gift during his holy mission and he still enjoyed using whips. His current one was in the belt he no longer wore now that he had taken the lead in jockstrap matters.

Xane created a thin, winding whip-mohawk that ran from Diego's forehead like a garden path, thinning backwards along the serpentines.

Then it was naturally time for an orgy.

The jockstraps stayed on, although Chay couldn't tell what was so fun about that. He preferred to be naked for sex. Hovering above the deck, the formed an aerial tangle of limbs sinking into each other's guts.

Punching into Marcus, Chay let his face `accidentally' move between Goro's glutes and gave licks around the rim while a mage-dick tore the berserker open. Goro seemed to like it.

Diego had purchased a few nectar buds with the fabric. Not enough for each hole. Chay lost the rock-paper-scissor on purpose so he could shove the golden egg into Goro's ass and keep licking as the nectar liquefied.

Visions set in. An arena where a hundred Goblins cheered them on. Chay was a dozen mouths, each caressing Goro's hole a dozen times over, mega-orgasming with every kiss, while a dozen Fiends rained pure sex upon them.

After too short a time, the men broke apart and landed on the ground for a cuddling nap.

Would Chay be able to resist the peer pressure and keep his simple black style? He was running out of allies in the matter. Maybe he was being silly. He had a dick for a hairstyle after all.

Next: Chapter 67


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