A gay story: Vortex Quest Bk. 05 Ch. 05 == VORTEX QUEST 5-5 ==
== FURY AND CALM ==
There was a lot Xane could and *should* have been pondering.
He didn’t feel like it thought, only watching the bubble-leaved trees on the ceiling drift by as he laid on his back next to the Bleeding Pearl’s cabin, stroking the white mohawk of Marcus’ head on his chest, letting little butterflies dance on his arms, getting rapidly fucked by his own mage-dick into pure ass-bliss.
Chay stood at the railing a few steps away, his ultra-lean physique relaxed as he casually held onto the black wood, rippling skin only interrupted by the thin black line of the fundoshi separating his glutes.
“Some kind of master smith?” he asked, proposing the ninth option.
Mercy’s wings flapped briefly as he considered. The Nephil’s robe was covering him even less now, hanging off his golden giant body like a slutty toga. “None we have access to, I’m afraid. I wasn’t going to suggest this but maybe we can risk leaving the funnelcastle to itself. Blood vengeance does not come fast. If you destroy the final vortex and leave quickly…”
“Flip portal,” Chay said, slapping the railing. “We toss some random pieces of shit in, primed to turn into a Winter Key, and use it before the flip runs out.”
Mercy frowned. “Not… impossible. We *should* be able to prime something correctly. But you’d have to go all the way back to Mockery unless there’s a defunct one in this realm you can dig up.”
A lizard man dropped from the arch above. Brown with orange stripes. The captain.
“Flip portal?” he asked. “Big stone ring, goes swoosh with a ball that’s bright and dark at the same time? And out comes something other than what went in?”
“Yes,” Chay said. “You’ve seen… No, your genetic memory. You *know* of a place with an active flip gate.”
Captain Toothcracker grinned. “We Snoutfuckers get around. For the right price I might part wi-”
A bell rang. The Kobold cursed. The crew in the rafters started leaping around to different stations.
“Who’s attacking and why?” Chay asked the captain.
Xane and Marcus took this as their cue to get up.
“Furies,” Toothcracker spat. “This is the Goreslip Passage. I should have flown around, curses. Champion Tgellfwan has been trying to expand his domain here. Didn’t think he’d dedicate this much to it, though.” He shouted orders to his men before turning back. “Maybe they’re raiding us for slaves, maybe we’re being made an example of to show they control the area.”
“We’ll do what we can,” Chay said. “Guys, Furies shouldn’t be too hard to handle. Let’s go.”
Xane stepped up to the bow of the ship where two four-armed Kobolds were loading a cannon. In some distance was a swarm. A hundred bird humans with wings of red and blue and gold. Their ever-shifting patterns were hypnotic… fascinating…
Someone slapped a hand over Xane’s eyes. “Not this shit again. Hypno-wing protocol, Xane. Don’t look, only fire.”
Two motes went out at the speed of arrows. The first detonated into a spray of needles in the middle of the flock, tearing flesh and feathers to shreds. The swarm of a hundred burst apart, just as expected, clustering together in a ring. A second mote turned to a spray of liquid fire above the front of the ring, catching many more than it would have in the loose formation.
With the first few Furies dropping from the sky — or ceiling or whatever — the Kobolds atop the ship’s arches fired lighting into the swarm.
Mercy was tying strands of holy twine to Marcus’ weapon.
Marcus… amazing how close Xane had gotten to the tall bastard. On earth, they probably wouldn’t even have become friends, but now? What label to put on it? More than brothers? Clichéd. Boyfriends? If they were gay, definitely, but they weren’t. Straight male friends with benefits? Didn’t capture their emotional bond and sounded fucking absurd. Sure, they didn’t *need* a label but it would have been nice to have a way to pin down the fondness-
Goro slapped Xane across the face. Multiple times.
“Xee, bitch, listen. They have some kind of mindblast that traps you in your own head.”
“O-okay, fuck,” Xane stuttered. “I’m here.”
“Then fight.”
The flock was upon them. They came from all sides. Beaked, clawed, vaguely feminine in shape but more plucked chicken than lady.
“Thralls,” Chay shouted. “All thralls. Can’t be reasoned with. Will mostly fight to the death.”
Goro punched one so hard she practically exploded into guts and bones as she flew off the ship. He went to shake the ponderous Kobolds from their passive state.
The angel-demigod collaborative trap was ready, the chakram zipping in circles, wrapping Furies in shining string. Ten or so got caught, slammed into each other, wings and limbs cut and broken. The twine ruptured.
Xane sent a mote into the cluster and made it detonate as chaos, shaped as a multipronged star. Fury bits rained down.
Chay was wrapping the Bleeding Pearl in a layer of fog, darkness pouring from him like a humanoid volcanic eruption — glorious and horrible to behold. Goro kept him safe by running back and forth across the deck and swiping bird cunts out of existence. A puppeteered Fury also protected him.
The dimming light made the wings less and less hypnotic.
The thaum-mage wasn’t really jealous of Chay like how he might have been if Goro had been a girl he’d fancied. He could be happy for them and they were concerningly hot together, but some part of him wished he could also have ‘cracked’ Goro’s shell like that. Their head start on friendship hadn’t turned into a-
Pie rushed over his face, icy cold. Darkness and frost. Did she control her internal temperature? It was enough to tear him back to reality.
Kobolds with their own spears sticking from their backs lay on top of him. Somehow, Xane had fallen.
He fought his way to his friends at the back of the barge. Every second he had a bolt ready. Either a telekinetic bludgeon wiping hypno-chicken off the deck, or corrosive poison giving an enemy an ever deepening wound.
The area was darkening as Chay’s fog closed them in. Xane stepped out of his fundoshi to use the aegis.
The Furies were tossing slaves overboard. The naked hunks were either catatonic or panicked. Some fought back but were no match for the supernatural birdies. Many popped from their injuries and their souls got sucked into the floor.
Wasn’t it strange how humans had the most suckable dicks in the abyss? Every monstercock was vastly more fun to ride — at least with demigod healing powers — but having a riffled tentacle invade your mouth didn’t sound pleasant. Not that Xane really *loved* to suck cock. If anything it made him miss having his own sucked even more. None of his girls had ever loved cocksucking as much as Goro seemed to. Why was that? Did guys just ‘get it’? There was just something hot about-
Goro kneed him in the guts.
Claws were digging into Xane’s shoulders. The berserker grabbed the Fury that attacked the wizard, ripped her wings off and rammed her into the deck head-first.
“What’s going on?” Xane asked, holding his stomach.
“Mindblasts,” Chay said, wielding a bloody Kobold spear. “Goro’s mark is keeping him immune. Marcus, uh, found a way, too. We two are going to keep getting blasted again, I’m afraid. Behind you!”
There was nothing on the deck but a dozen Furies, advancing on them. The thaum-mage had a mote turn into a cone of piercing, poisoned ice. The ones who weren’t hit lethally were too shredded to be a threat.
“Get to Mercy,” Chay said.
“Where *is* Mercy?”
“The cabin,” Chay said. He looked up where his fog obscured anything beyond the rafters. “We’ll crash into the ceiling in a minute if he doesn’t find a way to stop it. All those souls got sucks into the engine – it’s overpowering.”
“What do I do?”
“Protect him. If he fails, blow up the engine. Save Kobolds if you can.”
Wasn’t it strange how Kobolds had ‘genetic memory’ despite being born from primordial sludge in pools or egg sacks? Probably made up for the lack of parenting. But who’s memor-
Goro gave him a hard shove as he ran by to give the leader’s skull-patterned head a slap.
Damnit, mindblasted again.
“Let’s try this,” Chay shouted and dove into his fog. A golden substance splashed from the dark, swirling wall. Nectar splattered all over Xane’s face and torso.
Equally splashed, Chay emerged. “Think of it as smelling salts.”
Xane was overcome with the urge to fuck the umbralist to pieces, to lick every inch of him but especially the ones dripping with his most-craved drug.
“Thanks, boss,” the wizard said and saluted. “Heading in.”
A stark naked, short, Korean muscle-god swaggering into the flock, his crotch shining like a floodlight, reeking of sex like nothing earthly ever could, thunder pulsing ahead of him every second to wipe birds off the ship — exactly how he wanted the world to see him.
The deck itself was fairly cleared out. Marcus was dashing and dancing overhead, whitefire zooming like long-exposure photo art against the dark. Xane sent a mote up to help clean the area, lightning striking a few Furies.
He stepped over a dead Kobold. The battle was being won at a cost.
He felt himself getting lost in thought and let the intrusive fantasy of sucking off a triple-cock version of Marcus snap him out of it.
The smell of nectar in his nose made him dream of an orgy but kept him from deeper thoughts.
He swiped a sex-honey drop from his nipple and tasted it just as he knocked on the cabin door.
Toothcracker glanced through the iron grate window. “Safe?”
“Not yet,” Xane said. “But let me in.”
The captain let him slip into the cabin where Mercy and two other Kobolds were kneeling on the ground, reaching through a cutout in the floor, tapping crystals and wires.
“How’s it going?” Xane asked.
“The fuel stopped coming,” the Nephil said. “I’m catching up with the siphoning but I’m not sure we’ll stop before we crash.”
“Are you making the clouds around us?” Toothcracker asked.
“Uh, Chay is,” Xane said. “For tactical reasons.”
“Tell him I need to see.”
Xane stepped out the door and projected his voice. “Chay!”
The hunk stepped from the darkness in the shade-containment area and waved.
“Part the clouds, bro,” Xane projected. “Captain’s gotta steer.”
He got a thumbs up and escorted Toothcracker to the cabin roof where the wheel was. A cluster of Furies was regrouping at the bow, trying to dismount the front gun. Xane sent a mote into them and the thunder clap shredded their flesh as it tossed them overboard.
The fog bubble dissipated.
Xane hadn’t realized how much the Bleeding Pearl was *racing* upward. He busied himself keeping straggler Furies at bay while the captain steered.
Their ascent slowed considerably as the ceiling drew closer and the engine got siphoned but they were obviously not going to make it. Should he explode it? Yes, they were too fast. He readied himself to jump down and warn-
The vessel ran into a plasmafall. Odorless, watery ooze in gentle azure washed over the deck like a thousand hoses. Everything was powerwashed, including Xane.
Pressed to the ground by the plasma, he created a kinetic shield overhead to protect himself somewhat.
The nectar was gone from his chest. The regular mindblasts from Furies hanging out in some distance hit him. He sent a firebolt at one and slapped her out of the air but the blast still came.
Part of Xane missed being gay. His appreciation for the male form, including his own, had reached unprecedented heights. His fellow demigods had turned from good friends into the hottest slabs of meat ever, which made the journey through the abyss vastly more bearable. And monsterdick went from sexy by association to something aesthetically pleasing in itself.
The feeling of male attraction per se had been strange but after what felt like a lifetime of nectar visions he wasn’t too surprised by his romantic feelings following his caged crotch. If only he’d-
Nectar drizzled onto his face. Marcus stood over him, broad legged and grinning, the garnet on his ass vibrating.
Fucking Marcus. Fucking his ass, his mouth, his skull. Sucking his dick and lips and pits. Riding his cock, his fists — riding his entire leg, both at once. A dozen Daemons ready to jizz all over him.
Xane snapped out of the nectar vision which had snapped him out of the mindblast.
“Uhhh.”
“Hold on tight,” Marcus said and threw himself over Xane.
Toothcracker steered his ship right under one of Hiwinymb rare stalactites.
“Oh shit,” Xane shouted, “oh shit oh sh-”
The hundred foot long, spiraling rock bore into the center of the Bleeding Pearl, wood splintering, iron whining, chains clanking.
The sharp tip widened to a foot, then two, then three as the ship lost momentum.
The deck broke, rope webs and iron chains snapping taut to prevent the vessel from falling apart. One of the side sails was jettisoned as the attachment panels ruptured.
The barge came to a grinding standstill.
A final Fury hovering off the side was beheaded by Goro’s well placed spear shot and fell. Relative silence descended.
“How…” Xane started, searching for Marcus’ eyes. “How did you resist the mindblasts?”
The animus-fighter grabbed Xane’s hand and put it on his crack. The plug was vibrating, pulsing and even rotating.
“When the slaves died,” Marcus said, “some souls slipped right into my ass and powered up the plug. Kept me sane.”
“That doesn’t *sound* sane.”
Marcus shrugged, got up and pulled the wizard to a stand.
No human thralls had survived. The Kobolds who hadn’t been in the cabin were dead. Remaining Kobold and Fury corpses were simply kicked overboard. With the engine cooperative again, Toothcracker started the extract his ship from the stalactite.
The Bleeding Pearl hung lopsided but she stayed aloft.
The demigods were crammed into the cabin with the rest of the crew, since the deck was mostly holes now and parts threatened to drop any moment. They passed the soul stone plug around like a blunt, letting their holes get pulse-fucked in turns, one mindshattering abyssal mega-gasm chasing the next.
Xane was fondling his own nipples while he sent glowing sparrows across the ceiling for Pie to hunt.
“I guess,” Toothcracker said, “you saved my planks as much as I could hope for. I’ll tell you where the flip gate is. Have you heard,” he asked toward the Nephil, “of Lord Hgaan’s Ghoul Arena?”
Mercy frowned. “Maybe. He’s still alive?”
“Possibly. He’s been quiet but his domain can be accessed as easily as before. You just… wouldn’t *want* to go there.”
“And he’s got a flipper?” Marcus asked.
The captain nodded. “It’s the centerpiece of his arena. Just ask to fight for his amusement. Before he was sequestered, many people tried to flip something to a more valuable state and pawn it off before it turned back. Of course, that only worked if they first survived the arena.”
“Why not just kill him,” Goro asked, “and take what we need?”
Mercy jolted. “He’s a Wraith.”
Goro took the plug from Chay and popped it between his crazy thighs. He spasmed as the pulses reached his insides.
“So?” Chay said. “We killed several of those. Why are you shocked?”
“A *True Wraith*,” the golden giant insisted. “Not a Wraith-ling who plays lieutenant to a lord. A True Wraith makes Daemons look like pushovers.”
“Oh,” Chay said. “Cooperation it is.”
“Apropos cooperation,” Xane said and sat up. He looked at the three Kobolds tending to the underslung engine through a hole in the floor. “Any of you want to fuck human ass? Not slaves, no risk of popping. Don’t go easy.”
The captain and his mates exchanged glances, then broke into horrible lizard-grins.
The demigods turned onto all fours.