Vortex Quest

By Abra Cadabra

Published on May 27, 2023

Gay

== VORTEX QUEST 6-7 ==

== ASSORTED SLAVE TRADE 2 – LOCKING UP ==

Among the multitude factions of Reapers – not all of whom were even in the business of collecting souls – the occasional betrayal by a single agent created opportunities for vigilantes.

The Reaper Sfend'roch had made off with a hoard of a dozen slaves and hid away in a cave. Better yet, it was the latest batch, higher quality figments who would last for weeks.

Marcus and Chay had been needled into accepting the team name Too Much Cardio for their – relative – lack of mighty muscles.

Having Diego join them didn't change anything, since the ex-Devil's human body was rather a middle ground between Chay's wiry, leg-heavy physique and the Filipino's slender muscles.

The trio of men descended into Sfend'roch's hiding hole, veiled by fog, just slightly too dense to pass as natural to anyone who paid attention. A steep and narrow decline in the shimmer of gooey silver slugs and ferns with anglerfish bulbs at their tips.

Chay slipped a finger into Diego's gold silk jockstrap and pulled it aside for a second. The aegis was mildly gleaming. He let the hem snap back, his fingers brushing Diego's nipples on the way up.

Marcus spanked both their butts. How could they dare not include him in their sexy shenanigans?

"Demon confirmed," the leader said. "Still a way's down."

Diego unfurled his whip, which stayed slightly coiled in accordance with his will. "What are you expecting, boss?"

"Oh not you too with the `boss' shit," Chay said.

Marcus smirked as Diego shot him a wink. Team Cardio had two jokesters to one wet blanket. Marcus' favorite ratio.

"Can't have built many defenses," Chay said. "Something runic perhaps, I'll keep my eyes open. He bribed some Hellions into coming along when he went solo. And maybe there's a reason he chose this location as- Speaking of which."

The umbralist gestured them to dip down and melted into his own fog.

Marcus went ahead on the right side of the tunnel, Diego on the left.

"Four guards," Chay's voice whispered in the mist. "Not paying attention. I'll distract."

Marcus wound his way through ferns without disturbing them, moving on nothing but his middle fingers with anatomy defying contortions.

Two Hellions ahead of him, an empty bottle between them, an unfinished card game on a stump beside.

The fog touching Marcus pulsed pink.

He came out hands blazing, a flat palm to the neck of each warrior and two helmet-clad heads went flying.

Farther along, a whip snapped from the dim ferns and ripped the other two guards to the ground.

Chay became visible again. "All clear. I'll start leaking fog into the main chamber and scout it. Stay here." He looked at Marcus. "Stay."

The animus-fighter raised his hands. "Okay okay, got it."

The leader vanished.

Diego pulled Marcus in at the hip. "Hello cutie, come here often?"

Marcus pulled down his fundoshi, flashing his erection, and made a sad face. "Little help?"

"Aw, you know I can't resist those puppy eyes."

Marcus had expected the shorter man to go down on him but apparently Diego still had enough lube in his hole, hopping right on.

Marcus carried the warder, letting their tongues flick against each other as he topped him from below.

The sex was made a good deal more satisfying by the plug in Marcus' ass. He had brought it to capture any accidentally released souls but even the sensation of a lifeless artefact spearing his guts was enough to elevate topping. Yet, it wasn't as good as...

"Something the matter?" Diego asked.

"Fuck, did I look distracted?" Marcus asked. "Always hated when chicks told me I looked like I wasn't enjoying it."

Diego chuckled. "I know you're not."

He didn't need to elaborate. Each cumshot felt beyond what Marcus's dick had been able to give him on earth and yet it was so much less than the abyss had to offer. He couldn't even put a number on it. His ass was simply the center of sexual joy.

He fucked harder. Not that it helped much.

Chay eventually rejoined. His dick had been hard when he'd left but was neatly in the black pouch now. He had jerked off.

"Did you like watching?" Marcus asked.

Diego grinned. "My little Cha-Cha, the voyeur in the mist."

"I've counted six more Hellions on my scouting tour. Easy enough. Sfend'roch is in a tower with his slaves, protected by a rune trap at the door but we can go in from above."

"I notice you're not denying the allegations."

Chay waved and the entire cave's worth of fog moved like pulling a blanket. "This way. Stay low, hit hard."

The fight was almost mechanical. Marcus sliced and punched and kicked. The final two Hellions surrendered and got dosed with glitter to make sure no backstabbing was forthcoming.

The cavern's single tower, which no longer served as an outpost to whichever clan had built it, sported a single door and lacked a roof.

Three lean, mean, horny as balls demigods dropped in, landing on the wobbly stones where over a dozen sweating, bald hunks lazed about, mostly drooling. But these were figments, aware enough to react with shouts of surprise and alarm.

Sfend'roch was at a desk, penning letters. The dark demon in a yellow tunic rose to his full nine feet, his jackal-y face showing concern. He whistled for a Hellion guard that never came.

Marcus rolled through the air, his ring touching the dark giant's nose. A shot of unicorn dust sent the Reaper stumbling backwards, struggling to tear off his tunic.

He landed on top of a slave, crushing the undead soul. Other slaves cried out and scrambled aside.

A `tadpole' escaped from the fading body, swirled around the room and got sucked into Marcus' plug. The vibrations started instantly.

Marcus went to his tippy toes, chest arching up as pleasure got rubbed into his system like a dozen massages taking effect at once. His fingers were right at his nipples, voice in an inhuman whimper.

He must have stood like this for a while, since next he knew, the plug was empty, Chay had deactivated the rune above the door and Sfend'roch was loosely tied up.

Chay and Diego were riding on one of the Reaper's three tentacle dicks, the third one slapping lazily between them, long enough to let them lap up the glorious nectar as it oozed out, one honey drop at a time.

Had it not been for the sight of demonic sex juices, Marcus would have refilled his anal toy right away. But instead he knelt before the Reaper's crotch and joined the three way kiss, licking up the tentacle-cock's segments, then eating nectar from his friends' mouths. The visions were an incoherent mess of muscles, cum and demon worship.

When the dark giant was fully drained, Marcus gave him another glitter dose. Sfend'roch snapped his restrains and masturbated his empty cocks.

"That was fun," Chay said, sounding raw and ready for a nap. "We should, uh, make more demon friends. Or enemies."

Marcus made an exaggerated stretch, pointing his ass at the other demigods. "If I could marry a little angelic device, I'd propose to this plug right now." His eyes fell on Diego, then Diego's clothing. "Fuck. I think I've seen the jockstrap light."

Chay tugged at the plug. "My turn?"

Marcus gave a nod. The leader pulled the plug out with a ball crush, giving the Filipino another ten slowly fading seconds in anal paradise.

"If somebody would be so kind," Chay said as he pushed the plug past his fundoshi strap.

Diego's whip snapped a slave's head in half, making the man pop like a zipper was going through him.

Chay tensed up, spasming, clenching, eyes rolled into his head. To his credit, he still managed to speak. "Di-did it always feel this good?"

Marcus gave him a slap between the shoulder blades. "Afraid so. Do we start ushering the slaves out of here now?"

Chay was drooling, cross-eyed.

Marcus let his shoulder's sag. "I'll take that as a yes."

The warder gave him a rub along the pure white mohawk. "At least you still have me. But just to be clear, I'm trying that thing next. Now get to work."

"You heard us," Marcus said and clapped at the confusedly blinking hunks, many of which were even taller than him. He set his hair on holy fire. "This way please. Out of the cave, go go go."

He had to repeat himself in nearly as many languages as there were hunks.

A dozen figments made it to the surface, after each demigod had gotten a decent run with the plug. Not that there was a way to ever feel satisfied when the abyss was making you horny beyond all reason.

===***===

The bastion of Lord Gvren'Gvoat consisted of five towers atop of floating island, ringed with an illusory garden of bubbling blood pools ringed by tumorous sacks and groves of leafless trees, gnarled in the minor lord's visage, pearl-caterpillars resting atop the crooked branches.

"Lovely place," Goro said with heavy sarcasm as they stepped inside the vision bubble.

Xane chuckled. "Hehe, don't tell me the savage berserker dude prefers pretty flowers over fountains of viscera. I like the creativity in this realm."

The demigod duo – codename Barbell Besties – float-walked along the path, to the Troll-guarded gates, their thigh muscles flexing and quivering with every soft touchdown.

"I've got a sensitive side, you know," Goro said, smirking.

Xane reserved some thaum-power to let his mohawk burn in rainbow colors while he prepared a bolt in each hand.

The Trolls stood no chance, their necks exploding on impact. Xane prepped his next projectiles.

Goro rammed his shoulder into the door and the bronze ripped apart. A runic trap triggered just as Chay had predicted.

While black spears materialized and dug into the ground where the mania-beast had stood, the Barbell Besties took to the air and ran up the wall.

"I've been thinking," Goro said. "You remember those visions of possible futures in Mockery?"

"How could I forget that shit?" Xane said. "I saved your collective, sexy asses that day."

As they leaped over the stone roof, the wizard rammed icicles into the heads of two onlooking Hellions, then let them explode in a shard rain that brought down the remaining roof guards.

"You had motes in some of those," Goro said. "In visions where we chose to stay. I didn't have my mark."

"Yeah..." Xane said. "Didn't really think about that. They were distorted, right? More... abyssal."

"I assumed they were the same ones the sky fucker gave you," Goro said as they made it to the back of the bastion. "But maybe they're butterflies from hell."

The mania-warrior slammed his body into a window, muscles pulsing to ridiculous size with godly might. The hail of glass bounced off of him as the shards got ejected by instantly healing skin.

They were in the throne hall. Gvren'Gvoath was absent. His lieutenant had to be around but wasn't in the room. With all guards called to the breached front gate, the Barbell Besties encountered only four Hellions and a stagbeetle-panther abomination Goro head-butted into a wall.

Gnomes raced into their tunnels to call for aid. The thaum-mage zapped as many as his lightning could reach.

"Now that you mention it," Xane said as he swung a reinforced Elderite door open. "The invisible midnight bitch told us there's divinely powered artifacts. And obviously there's angel shit laying around. So there could be mote-like things- Ah, this one."

They entered the generator room where a dozen scared or feisty hunks were chained to a grate in front of the soul gem. While three shades mindlessly drooled, nine figments started bombarding the Barbell Besties with questions in six languages, none of which were even English. Talking was going to be too cumbersome.

Xane kicked one of the scurrying Gnomes into a decorative pile of human skulls. He drew a sign in the air, pointing out of the room.

Goro kindly ripped the slaves' measly neck-chains apart. He spoke casually. "So you think you'll find a way to get motes again?"

Xane hummed and gave mage-foot kicks to more Gnomes. The little fuzz-and-mold balls had probably called the guards back by now.

"Not sure I want any," Xane confessed.

Goro snapped the last chain like it was a paper ribbon. "I thought you loved them."

"Kinda. But they were always external to me until I gave an order to turn into a specific spell. Sometimes they were assholes and landed on my nose when I needed to fucking see."

Goro laughed, terrifying the nearest figment. The slaves were getting a move on, ambulant ones helping the catatonic ones, while Goro grabbed the three bodybuilder shades like massive sacks of flour.

Xane took one off Goro, keeping the slave over his shoulder, getting irritatingly turned on by the smooth, human muscles rubbing on him.

To distract himself from the all-consuming urge to jerk his now rock-hard dick, he prepared two bolts – one crackling on his pecs, one along his erection – and kept talking.

"The power storage would be nice, I guess, but I like the total control. Would you want another mark? There's probably shizz like that in one of the realms. I heard Flekh'Senm is big on tattoos and signatures. But I only know that because half the realm is in trans-dimensional chaos. It's all over the papers now. Some major civil war. Which... might be a bonus to you, right?"

Goro hummed. It was his `processing information' hum, so Xane let him think.

Back in the throne room, Goro gave Lord Gvren'Gvoath's iron and bone throne a few kicks, bending the backrest into a ramp to the broken window.

The demigods and their dozen `rescued' slaves escaped to the garden, where the confused and dizzy figments stumbled through blood pools.

The Sneak Attack pulled up.

"Maybe no new tats," Goro said. "Not for the moment. But there's something else, I thought of, recalling that tunnel of futures."

"Namely wh-"

Pandemonic curses echoed behind them.

A Wraith, the lord's lieutenant, had burst into the throne room. Xane dropped his carried shade into blood-weeping grass, jumped to see through the window, and shot his bolts.

Twin lightning raced from his nipples and seared several arms off the creature. The thaum-mage's green dick-bolt swung upward in flight and broke into a dozen arrows that fractured the ceiling. Chunks of stone rained onto the screeching Wraith's metal cap, forcing him back.

The demigods' escape vessel unloaded the Glooper and the Troll to assist with the slaves' boarding. Seventh was waiting for them.

As the Barbell Besties hopped on, Xane set his mage-mouth to suck him off.

"Excellent," the Hellion vice-captain said. "The figments are payment for the Wyrm, leaving three souls for our generator."

"Huh," Xane made and did quick metal math. "Team Cardio was already successful then."

"Yes. They moved to the Defiled Sanctuary by Wyvern right away."

Strange. Chay had told them to meet up on the ship again. As the Sneak Attack fled the scene, the robbed bastion shrinking in the distance, Xane tried to imagine why the leader had rushed to the HQ, until he felt a hand slide across his abs from behind.

"Hey Big G," the wizard said. "You didn't finish. What were you realizing?"

Goro casually flicked Xane's nipples from behind, and rested his chin on the shorter man's mohawk.

"We never really made good on that shower sex promise."

===***===

Xane was magically sucking himself off again, when they arrived at the Nephilim habitat.

What should have been mindblowing penile orgasms only made him dizzyingly greedy for anal. But he had given up on fucking his ass at the same time. It only made the blowjob register as a nuisance – a mosquito's buzz tainting the symphony of glory.

He `hid' his erection within an illusion of a much bigger erection.

Marcus threw himself into Xane's arm and whirled them both around. Xane got a nut crushing. He tugged on Marcus' open signature in revenge.

"That happy to see me?" Marcus asked with a glance at the thaum-mage's exaggerated crotch.

"Always. Need a fuck?"

"Badly, duh. But that has to wait."

"Why?" Xane asked as he got dragged along to a room where Chay stood naked, Gallant before him.

"Guess who's getting caged?" Marcus asked and pointed at his crotch.

Chay gave a wave. He seemed excited – giddy even. "Hey Barbell Bitch."

"Bestie," Xane corrected.

"Sorry. Bitch Bestie," Chay said with a smirk. "Everything's ready for little Chay to get snuggly tucked away forever. We wanted to wait so we weren't going behind your back. Any grand objections?"

Xane twisted around to look at Goro before remembering that the massive hunk was already caged.

Chay and Marcus stepped nude into a circle of geometric diagrams. Gallant held an aegis in each hand.

The devices began to glow, stronger and stronger until they were once again properly indicating the fallen angel's demonic nature.

The golden domes snapped to the waiting men's crotches with force, making them both flinch and whimper as the urethra tube placed itself inside them.

Then it was done. Two radiant packages lighting up the room, leaving Xane as the only demigod top in the world.

"Orgy?" Marcus asked.

The pantheon collapsed into a heap of muscle and lust, punching each other in the ass within ten seconds. Gallant let his prehensile dick escape and the men took turn licking superb satisfaction from his tip.

Xane fucked Chay's hard glutes with gay abandon, while Goro's arms was deep inside his own hole. Chay wasn't really having it, craving something bigger.

Xane gave him bigger.

A mage-dick, the size of a Daemon's tool, made Chay hold still in blissful submission.

Xane had let illusory mega-dongs hang from his crotch before and blown up the mage-dick to great size quite often, but never combined the two into giving him functional Daemon cock. Because where was the point if his real dick was unstimulated inside the illusory one?

Except... ravaging Chay like this turned out to be fun as fuck. Especially while getting violently shaken by a fist inside him. Maybe tops didn't need dicks. Not that Xane was giving his up anytime soon.

He created a mage-asshole at the end of the Daemon cock's shaft for him to fuck while he fake-fucked Chay. Everybody got what they wanted.

===***===

Marcus joined the jockstrap crew.

Goro and Diego had offered an already tailored piece and with Goro now a jockstrap enthusiast, the fundoshi side of things lacked compelling advocacy.

Chay and Xane were handling politics. Meanwhile the animus-fighter was holed up in a dead end corridor with Diego, their feet mutually sunk into each other's asses.

It had started as regular sixty-nine fisting but both he and the ex-Devil were easygoing and experimental. Having only just discovered foot-fisting, Marcus already wondered how deep two men with the power of gods could kick into each other? The thigh? The hip? The idea of fitting more than one leg seemed like something straight out of a nectar vision.

The fisters – feetsters? - made out whenever their position allowed their faces to meet, fully distracted.

A shadow fell over them. Or maybe it had been there a while.

The martial artist screamed as his balls were crushed vastly beyond what was enjoyable. He pulled himself away in a rare fit of embarrassment, making Diego whimper and spasm as feet slid out of guts in one go.

One leg raised, trembling and half blind with waves of slowly ebbing orgasms a dozen times beyond the humanly possible, Marcus glared at Xane. He somehow felt like the bodybuilder had walked in on him masturbating.

The thaum-mage stood broad legged, arms crossed and nodded. "Everything's ready. You two coming?"

"What's ready?" Marcus asked. "Boss said it was going to take all day."

"It's been all day," Xane said and conjured a wristwatch to tap. "You two have been at it for a whole Ringspan."

"Oh," Diego made. "Guess we did have a little nap in between. Piss?"

"Sure", Marcus said at the same time as Xane.

They both knelt down and the wizard neatly split the chaotic stream from Diego's aegis.

After filling up on hydration, Xane walked ahead. "We got the response from Starbeholder, so we can deliver it to the crazy bird lady. Plus, Zlennrop accepted Chay's testimony and wants the Hellions to join him so we won't have a crew for much longer."

"Shadowhand's been busy, huh?"

Xane nodded. "Which is another issue. We're running out of money. Sending messages around and owning a ship ain't free. Chay's got the math down but we better not drag this out."

"Onward then," Diego said. "Here's hoping my Chrono-Sight is good enough to catch up with you."

They made it to the outside, a long arch bridge connecting their courtyard with the Sneak Attack's dock. It would only take them half a minute to get there, except...

"Hey Diego," Xane asked. "Has Marky-boy taught you whisting yet?"

"No, what's that?"

"Really?" Xane said. "You foot-kick each other in the hole but you never even whisted?"

Marcus held a hand to his face as if to whisper but spoke normally. "He means falking."

"Oh, you mentioned it."

Xane went into a squat right between them. "Let's make it a threeway."

"Why do you get to be in the middle?" Marcus complained. "That's two fists for you, one for each of us."

Xane raised his hands and conjured two mage-fists next to them. "Any more questions?"

With one more second of eye contact, the men in golden jockstraps took their positions next to the thaum-mage. The walk to the dock took five minutes.

Next: Chapter 69


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