A gay sex stories: Vortex Quest Bk. 01 Ch. 13 == VORTEX QUEST 1-13 ==
== SHADOWHAND’S GIFT ==
One plasma chute ride later and the pantheon was back at the holy spire, resting, horny.
There was no fabric to create new fundoshi for the naked members, Marcus and Goro. The mania-warrior’s hair was a shoulder-long undercut again. Chay had given him the beads that had held his book collection together as a hair tie. That was all he could do.
While Pie lazily floated around between them, collecting cloud-belly rubs, the glistening athletes compared notes. Just as their discussion died down, their crotches lit up.
The aegis-light was bright even in the shimmering fog that seeped in from around the crystal hideout.
Gallant awaited them at the misty border.
Chay landed there first. He kept his voice perfectly level, despite wanting to scream, as he retold the events in brief.
“And now I’d like some answers,” he finished.
“Certainly,” the gold-skinned demon said, casually. “Ask away.”
Questions came barreling out, not just from Chay.
When a human died, their soul often passed through the abyss before reaching whatever lay beyond. Reapers could capture a soul and — if judged suitable — manifest it in an artifice of its body made from ectoplasm.
But that human was a mere Shade, barely conscious, hollow, without thoughts and memories. If left alone the Shade’s shell would break apart within a month, letting the soul escape.
Driven only by bare instincts like pain and sex those Shades were traded around as currency until the body was killed near a soul stone where the soul got trapped.
This soul then spent its vitality powering machines. Once used up, it became too immaterial to be contained and escaped. Reapers caught it anew, ‘nurtured’ it back to health and the cycle repeated.
However, with each ‘rebirth’ the soul solidified, becoming more and more a person with full conscience, memories and so forth. Gradually turning from a Shade to a Figment.
Figment Slaves were just as useful but sometimes got unruly. They could be used as thralls or forced to do labor but were troublesome and still broke apart after a few months at most, getting trapped in a soul stone.
Then why the vortex?
A fully manifested soul had a chance to escape the abyss by wiggling out of the Reaper’s nets, although that took many, many cycles. Anyone brought *alive* from earth could be bound and tracked by demonic magic, never to escape. An infinitely rechargeable battery.
A lot of things made more sense now, but the news weren’t encouraging. They really needed to stop the vortex.
“We got time for a drink, right?” Marcus asked, eyes on the Nephil’s crotch.
“Afraid not,” Gallant said, turning and lowering his dragonfly wings to watch a Wyvern approach. “Hrailoth awaits you. He mustn’t know about your little diversion. Although, he’ll notice the betrayal soon enough. The open signature is plain to see for any demon worth his nectar.”
Gallant slowly waved his hand across the men.
Chay cupped his balls in anticipation but it did nothing to lessen the crushing. Breathing through the pain that rose even after Gallant’s half-second tug, the umbralist glanced over his team mates.
Marcus whimpered, knees weak. Goro was steady, his pain only noticeable by his clenched glutes and set jaw. Xane was on one leg, using the other to ‘shield’ himself from nothing in particular.
Neither was too weakened by the attack to be useless in a fight, Chay figured, so from a tactical perspective this was fine. From a personal perspective it was bullshit and he wanted to scream.
===***===
“Aw,” Xane made as they arrived at Hrailoth’s fortress. “I was so close. I can almost make a fourth mote. It’s just not stabilizing.”
Marcus chuckled. “I thought ‘I was so close’ meant you got off on riding that Wyvern.”
Xane punched him on the back. “Man, if only it was that easy. Hehe, we did ride some massive snakes though, am I right boys?”
Chay rolled his eyes. “I’d rather not talk about that.”
“About how we’re turning into cock lovers?” Marcus asked as they passed the gate and stepped into torch light. “If we avoid the conversation forever it’ll come crashing down at the worst possible moment.”
“Probably true,” Chay said.
“See,” Marcus said. “I make a great vice-leader.”
“Excuse me?” Xane said. “That’s already me. You’re third in line and I’m only putting the big guy last because he’s all about that lone wolf life.”
Goro grunted.
Chay gestured them to keep it down. “Not in earshot of the big mofo.”
The humongous, red, horned muscleman was lounging on cushions among piles of gold. Gnomes formed a furry slingshot and tossed bits of raw meat into his maw.
“We got the half from Rvebnar,” Chay said and raised the semi-circle of rune covered stone. “Where’s yours?”
Hrailoth pulled out a similar device and tossed it right into Goro’s hands.
“What a strange coincidence,” the Daemon said with a voice that traveled more through bone than ears and made Chay’s legs quiver, “that my old friend Fno’Xhaan has been slain so shortly after the arrival of you four.”
Chay said nothing. Hrailoth was lying about being friends with the dead Wretcher, he could tell.
“And even stranger,” the lord continued, “that the signatures I put on you are no longer bound to me. No doubt opened with blood old Fno’Xhaan had kept in reserve.”
Chay held back a smirk. Their ally Dle’Shuul was safe, unless they decided it was expedient to betray him.
Hrailoth closed his fist and Chay felt pure force coming down on his balls. He sank to his knees, squeaking. His friends dropped, too, the Japanese bodybuilder holding out the longest.
PainPainFuckNo StopPainPain FuckShitAaaaahh.
The ball crushing radiated into his nub, his thighs and knees, his abs and flank, his *lungs*.
He whimpered soundlessly.
The demon wasn’t even looking at them. “I suppose we’re still on the same side, no? The vortex must go. That’s useful for me and all right with the heavens.”
Chay bent forward. There was a *tug* on his balls as much as a crushing. If his crotch was pressed to the ground, he could take a bit of the edge off. He’d never had his balls crushed for so long, only briefly in a few fights as a teen. The sheer heat was on a whole new level. His abs were seemingly collapsing into themselves.
Hrailoth lazily spread his immense legs. “Then I guess we should continue to work together. I can understand your need to stay independent. Fine then, I’ll accept this.”
Their balls were released. Chay dared to rise, but the ache wasn’t lessening. His family jewels had a long memory. He was dizzy.
“But I have a condition,” the demon added, now looking down at them. “There is something of Fno’Xhaan that must become mine. You will bring it to me or I’m letting the Purgator’s Legion *and* the King’s Own Ever-Guard know you’re here. The vortex will be guarded by everything the abyss can throw at you.”
===***===
They speed-walked away with as much dignity as four sweating hunks with two fundoshi between them could muster.
“Fuck you!” Goro shouted as soon as they were outside the fortress. He flexed his whole body in a half-squatting most-muscular pose, middle fingers up, muscles pulsing with frenzy, and shouted at the abyss. “Fuuuuck Youuuu!”