A gay sex stories: Vortex Quest Bk. 01 Ch. 06 == VORTEX QUEST 1-6 ==
== GOD’S OWN TORPEDO ==
Having to heal yourself with the slow and steady workings of thaumaturgy kinda sucked balls but the moment Xane’s lisk-cuts were gone his horniness was back in full force.
As the group advanced through desolate crawlway tunnels, he made useless jerking gestures in front of his crotch while he let his magic tongue work over his hole and sack.
The mage froze when they reached the holy spire.
A blinding white crystal of irregular shape, tall like a twenty story skyscraper. Crooked, its sharp tip pointed to the ceiling of Jheyr’Udd at 20 degrees, its base sunken into the hard ground.
The spire was insanely ornate. Layer upon layer of gold in organic patterns ran around the crystal. It seemed made of nothing but ornaments.
White fog emanated from it, creating a 20 foot high sheet in a radius of their college’s running track.
“Hm,” Chay made. He was looking at the red lanterns marking the edge of the fog. “I think those keep the holy nebula contained but we shouldn’t have trouble crossing.”
He took a step past the border, into the fog.
“Oh hey,” Chay said and the fog parted around him. White mist was oozing from his palms, driving back the glowing, holy one. “I can’t *control* it but I can push it with my– shit!”
He ducked and a flock of imps jumped him from inside the fog. Unlike the dark red, purple and blue imps they had seen so far, these ones were a pale, spotted white, emaciated and their leathery wings were covered in bird feathers.
Xane sent a straight lightning bolt at one and it went up in flames.
Chay swatted at them, hitting their vulnerable, blue eyes. Imps usually had tiny black dots for eyes. Why were these so different?
One of the creatures started fighting its fellows. Ah right, Chay’s new puppeteering skill. Useful. The next lightning bolt was ready and zapped a fluttering beast from the air.
Marcus jumped in and roundhouse kicked three back into the fog. Goro leapt in and caught two out of the air. He threw them at the retreating ones with superhuman strength.
“Ugh,” Chay said. “Guess they’re not demonic enough to be kept out. But did you see how weird they looked — like cherubs. I think the spire it twisting them. Or un-twisting them, if the abyss is inherently twisted.”
“Holy mutant imps,” Marcus said. “Naturally.”
Chay made the holy nebula part ahead with his own fog and the naked muscle-packed demigods wandered in with tired steps.
Xane had long given up on wiping his sweat away with magic, but he was glad he could easily get rid of his blood, his cum, his friend’s cum and lisk-egg goop, while his buddies had to wait for their sweat to wash it all down. He helped them, of course, but he wasn’t going to wipe their every crevice.
On some level he loved the idea of battling his way through a demon infested underworld with his best friend and other hunks, naked balls swinging in the warm breeze, but he would have preferred to let his *cock* swing, too — and to shove it into a pussy every so often.
The area was littered with burst crystals, humanoid imprints hinting at warriors who had traveled inside to invade the abyss. Large white feathers could still be found on the ground.
Goro’s head twitched to the side. “Something’s in there,” he growled. “Something big.”
The tired demigods froze, eyes on the fog as Chay widened the unobscured space around them. He dropped his books for easier movement.
A part of the mist itself rushed them — a vapor-tube as thick as a leg. Goro stepped forward and rammed his fist into the wobbling projectile which flowed over him unhindered.
Xane hadn’t made new motes yet so he punched at the air with his mage-hand. It disturbed the fog-snake but didn’t disperse it.
The tube of whiteness draped itself over Chay and encircled him. He waved his fan and the fog-snake was catapulted off him. It coiled at the edge of their holy mist clearing.
“Guess it can’t hurt us,” Marcus said and gave the wobbling tube of smoke a pet. “Who’s a good ethereal snakey boy? Who’s a g- Ouch, the fucker bit me. Shit off, snake. You better not be fucking venomous. I’m having your smoky ass for breakfast. I’ll find a way.”
Marcus stepped back, eyes on his hand where blood dripped from multiple punctures. Gentle, transparently white flames licked along his arm in slow motion as the wound closed itself.
Chay waved his fan and the smoke-snake was thrown in the air. Instead of retreating, it hovered above, compressing itself and spiraled down at Chay.
More fan waving and the snake was tossed around.
“I think… it wants to play,” Chay said. “It obviously lives here. Maybe it’s not a creature of the abyss. Or it was and got mutated.”
After some more fan-play, the snake was comfortable encircling Chay again who let it happen. When it was coiled on the ground like a real snake Chay got to pet it without getting bitten.
Xane followed. He conjured an illusory cloud of smoke around him and the snake paid him more attention.
A head manifested at the tip of the coil — a cat’s head.
“The snake is a *cat*?” Marcus asked. “A… snake-cat? Snat? Cake?”
“That sounds stupid,” Chay said.
“I vote for cake,” Xane said and naturally Goro gave an affirmative grunt. The mage fist-bumped the berserker.
Chay rolled his eyes but tickled the ‘cake’ under its immaterial chin. It reacted very much like a real cat, only with clouds for fur and a long, long body.
“I guess it’s some kind of smoke-dragon-thing,” Chay said, “but fine, it’s a ‘cake’ if it has to be. So what do we name you? Cloudy? Puff? Oh I know, Nebular.”
“What do you name a cake?” Marcus asked with a grin that meant mischief. “Pie, haha.”
“Ridiculous,” Chay said.
“I second Pie,” Xane said. He was all for Chay being their leader but he also liked taking charge when he could, even if only to tease.
“Pie the cake,” Marcus said with crossed arms.
Chay gave an exaggerated sigh and rubbed his temples. “I hate democracy.”
Xane stroked Pie between the cloudy ears. “How do you like that name, huh?”
There was no purr, but Pie happily nuzzled into the thaum-mage’s palm.
===***===
They had no difficulties getting into the spire since it had plenty of openings. Three floors were open to them, connected by free stairs, large uneven arches and broken walls. The gold ornamentation remained exuberant, almost tumorous, creeping even onto the floor.
Light came from downward-burning fire, similar to the flames of Marcus’ animus-magic but much brighter.
There was a lot of emptiness.
The demigods carried together all the loose objects still left. Amphorae with colorful substances, intertwined rings, a glass cube with orbs circling within, spirals that were hard to carry since they kept flickering out of existence.
Xane wondered if these were really just ‘creature comforts’ or if they were handing their demonic friend a heavenly nuke. Not that he necessarily would have objected.
It was enough ‘useless’ stuff to fill an ultra-ornate container the size of half a bathtub. Crates like that were plenty, usually without content.
Goro laid claim to a long strip of white silk. With the help of Xane’s ability to mend ripped fabric, the Japanese hunk made a new fundoshi for himself. It wasn’t totally opaque.
“Might as well stay balls out,” Xane said. He was creating new motes — a blue and a speckled yellow butterfly this time.
“It’s not fun to feel my package whipping around during battle,” Goro answered. “And it’s about the feeling of clothing.”
“Good point.”
The aegis kept their packages tightly on their bodies so Xane hadn’t had trouble with his low hanging balls, but having them cupped in a thong was probably more comfortable.
Marcus swung a scepter of three intertwined gold-rods. “I have no issue going naked but I’d rather not have our holy radiance give us away. Plus I don’t want to keep looking at y’all’s assholes every time you bend over.”
Xane chuckled. “Excellent fucking point. Man-hole flashing isn’t my cup of protein shake. Already sick of looking at your balls, even if their tiny size makes them subtle.”
Marcus raised his middle finger and cupped his low sack toward the mage, then grabbed a strip of white cloth. “Uh, Goro, can you show me again how to twirl the underpants of your people?”
“Sure. Here.”
Marcus dropped the scepter into the crate and joined the fundoshi-gang.
“I’ve been thinking,” the lithe Filipino said.
“Uh-oh,” Chay made with a smirk.
Marcus spoke with conviction. “We need a group name. I mean, we named Pie so successfully. Who are *we*?”
“Battle gods,” Xane said.
“Hellfuckers,” Goro said, not sounding serious for once. He rolled up the rest of their fabric and used it to tie up his hair.
Chay cocked his head. “Servants of the light?”
Marcus frowned. “I figured a collection of gods is a pantheon, no?”
Chay gave a slow clap. “That’s a surprisingly sensible suggestion for once. We might technically *be* a pantheon.”
Xane stretched. “Man, I think we should go to sleep.”
“Same,” Chay said and patted his new, white fundoshi. “We’re as safe here as we’ll ever be. Gotta piss first, though.”
The freshly named ‘pantheon’ slipped out of their freshly fitted fundoshi and stepped to the edge of a crystal arch. With hands behind their heads, legs far apart and two steps of space between them, they pissed down.
Barely a drop went were it was supposed to, four streams splattering wildly from the aegis-holes.
Their dicks began to glow, rapidly turning from a gleam to a powerful searchlight.
“Aw, shit,” Marcus made.
“No, it’s just our old buddy,” Xane said and pointed while his piss got sprinkled up onto his beefy pecs. He had spotted the ex-angel gunning for them.
Gallant landed outside the holy mist, waiting.
===***===
Xane and Goro carried the ornament-riddles crate, which seemed made of pure gold. Thaum-magic was flexible enough to let him lighten the load but not so powerful he could just negate all weight.
The Korean bodybuilder had already forgotten how fucking large Gallant was. As a short guy he was used to looking up *slightly* at other men but demons were a whole new level.
He didn’t like to admit it, but his eyes went right to the crotch dent where Gallant’s prehensile dick was poking the robes.
Chay made them put the crate down *inside* the anti-demon barrier.
“What have you got for us?” the leader asked.
Gallant lightly bowed. “Well, my allies. I have put out some feelers and you and we are not alone in our desire to vanquish the vortex.”
“Can you just,” Marcus said, bouncing, “like, give us nectar?”
Gallant smirked. He let his robes slide off him with a flap of his dragonfly-wings and his crazy large dick looked right at them.
Xane groaned at the sight of the Nephil’s incredibly buff body. Why were all demons beefy enough to place in a stage competition?
“Nectar is not cheap,” the massive minor demon said. “But I can skip one delivery to my dealer to cement an alliance.”
The smell of demon cum reminded Xane of a dozen things, from cookies out of the oven, to acrylic pain, to pepper and roses, to a new leather jacket, to fresh man-sweat.
He hated the craving and tried not to think about the fact it was cum. He’d never had an addiction but he knew what it was like to drink your first glass of water after an hour of brutal cardio — every sip of nectar was that first glass, over and over.
As soon as he tasted it he got railed by sex-brain. Dick, balls, sweat, muscle, demons and *men* flooded his mind. Pathetically whining, Xane jostled against the rest of the pantheon.
Gallant’s dick helpfully bent in an arch like a faucet, letting out dollop after dollop of golden bliss.
The men alternated with two having their tongue right at the slit while the others kissed the fist-sized head. So they rotated.
Xane quickly gave up on trying to avoid touching tongues with the others, instead playfully wrestling with Marcus’ tongue for dominance of the slit.
He was taken to a different world. One where Marcus’ tongue was kissing orgasms into him, each one heightening the desire for the next.
His sex fantasies became a struggle, Gallant railing Xane like a bitch in the mage’s mind’s eye. Xane fought to think about himself railing girls instead. The bliss was too distracting.
All four demigods rubbed the golden giant’s dick and fondled his balls. There was a lot of meat to handle.
Much too soon their feeding came to an end. The pantheon avoided all eye contact as the insanity-inducing cum-feast ended.
Xane’s thoughts shifted from man-meat back to tits, pussy and a semblance of shame. He sat down and glanced at his crotch where radiance penetrated the pure white fundoshi.
Gallant received his gift basket of unidentified trinkets. Then it was time to talk shop.
The greatest lords of the abyss were chosen by King Zheggyr to be ‘Champions’ and rule a great domain with many lords below them. Champion Mashmorg led the vortex project. His jealous opponent was Champion Hrailoth who had wanted the prestige of the vortex for himself.
And a demon loved nothing more than a chance to sabotage a rival.