A gay story: Vortex Quest Bk. 06 Ch. 06 == VORTEX QUEST 6-6 ==
== ASSORTED SLAVE TRADE 1 — OPENING UP ==
It was strange how much they sought out civilization now, after spending much of their holy quest acting like criminals on the run.
Goro felt the slight tickle of his swaying braid below his shoulder blades as he swaggered down the dim tunnel that smelled of copper and sweet berries, ahead of Marcus who was still talking Helping Bite’s ear off, the four armed Kobold having adopted a nod-and-frown tactic.
Xane had named the Goro-Marcus team Peace & Quiet and the martial arts demigod had done his enthusiastic utmost to miss the sarcasm.
Yes, Goro adored the lean, brown man with the pure white mohawk, loved him even, but he was eternally glad they had brought the helmslizard along.
The tunnel gave way to a cave lit by glowing moss. Vark and Croc corpses hung off ceiling chains, three to six per hook, interspersed with some massive squid-looking creatures. The Kobolds of the Entrails Weaver clan were chopping steaks and rubbing them in red berry paste for preservation, stuffing guts with half-dried blood, or loading meat-filled barrels on carts.
The smell of charring steak made Goro’s stomach churn. He hadn’t eaten food that wasn’t cum in so long that he couldn’t imagine ever going back.
Helping Bite did the talking. He was approached by the Entrails Weaver clan’s Urrk himself, a spiky-backed dark green Kobold with a crocodilian face. When it became clear Helping Bite wasn’t going to sell his two slaves, the Urrk got less friendly, when he heard they wanted to *buy* slaves he was outsight annoyed.
But Helping Bite’s claims simply required demonstration. When Peace & Quiet lifted a whole dead Vark each — basically a baby whale in the shape of a porcupine-hound — the clan head reconsidered.
===***===
The no man’s land of long stretching caverns felt like a forest of stone pillars under a canopy of gleaming moss. Kobolds reached toward the top with long sticks and plugged berries from the ceiling thicket.
The creek of teal ectoplasm splashed as a dead Croc rolled through it, coming to a stop on the other shore. Marcus held up his hand — whitefire extinguished — and Goro gave him a high five.
“Should be the monsters done,” Marcus said. “We can tell the Urrk the incursions are dealt with.”
Goro gave an assenting grunt.
“Oh come on,” Marcus said and placed a slap on the berserker’s ass. “Say a little more than that. What’s on your mind?”
“The ectoplasm.”
“Yes, a lovely feature of the landscape.”
Goro shoved the animus-fighter who turned the force of the push into a cartwheel.
“I meant-”
Marcus levitation-spun right into Goro’s face. “I know what you meant, big dude. Let’s do it.”
They dipped their hands into the creek, then into each other’s asses. Marcus’ fist slid easily between the jockstraps, Goro having to push the other man’s fundoshi strip aside — what had once been a huge fetish for him now seemed like a nuisance.
He didn’t care that jockstraps ‘looked gay’, he wanted the convenience.
Bent over, legs spread, they made their way back to the Entrails Weaver army rallying spot, barely slowed down thanks to godly muscle strength, infinite stamina and flying hops.
They looked ridiculous of course but Goro could hardly care when he felt like his hole was swallowing the cosmic secret to everlasting joy.
“Are you on our side now?” Marcus asked.
“What?”
The animus-fighter gestured with his free hand. “I mean the Marcus-Diego-Xane cluster that’s formed. We’ve basically recruited the wizard to our agenda of treating the abyss like a playground. Chay’s the only wet blanket left. I know you’re his main boytoy, so I wasn’t sure where you stand.”
“That’s a strange perspective,” Goro said. It was easier to think while having ultimate-sex *and* hover-jogging, than if he had just stood still, swimming in the horny. “We’re not power blocks, we discuss and form agreements. And Chay’s usually right.”
Marcus shrugged with the hand not buried, as they hopped over a pile of berry sacks. “I’ve never heard you ‘debate’ a fucking thing. You follow either boss or vice-boss around like a lovesick puppy and that’s it.”
Goro needed a moment to think. He pulled out, sending Marcus into a bliss-convulsion and got the experience returned.
“Drink?” he asked, already pushing his jockstrap pouch down.
Marcus made a one-handed hand-stand, lips on the aegis, his semi-hard-on in Goro’s face. Losing the chakram had come with a power-up for the Filipino’s athletics shenanigans.
The mania-warrior drank and pissed, gently sucking on the hardening cock until the sipping turned into a blow job. He held onto Marcus’ hips and dipped a fist into the hole before his eyes, while the upside-down demigod repaid the anal favor. They ball crushed each other.
Once Marcus was drained, Goro stepped back with a sigh.
“Okay. Fuck it.”
“Fuck what?” Marcus asked.
“I’ll talk more. Ask me something.”
Marcus did a thinker pose, one leg crossed over the other bent one. A mere mortal’s knee could have screamed in pain. “Uhhhh, what’s your favorite ice cream flavor.”
Goro walked away. “Never mind, I regret the offer.”
Marcus landed on Goro’s shoulders and sat down, his calves rubbing the berserker’s nipples. He added absolutely no weight, politely using levitation.
“Oh come on, Big G. It’s so hard to make you laugh. I just want to be friends.”
“I… We *are* friends.”
“Awwww,” Marcus made and cupped Goro’s cheeks from above.
“And you don’t need to make me laugh if you give me orgasms.”
“Is that your rule for dating?”
“I… kind of?”
“Sounds miserable. I bet your relationships all sucked.” Marcus grabbed Goro’s shoulders and made a handstand on them. He lowered his face to be right in front of Goro’s. “But this one won’t.”
They shared an upside down kiss. There was no saying who had initiated.
Marcus dropped with infinite grace and was walking the moment his feet hit rock.
Goro stood and stared at the slender, rippling back.
Was it okay to kiss Marcus? Was that cheating if the babbling twink and Xane were a thing — however straight bros could be a thing? Well, only if they kept it a secret. And there was no way Marcus would fail to recount the whole thing.
Peace & Quiet reunited, with Goro swiping Marcus off his feet from behind, swooping him up bridal style and pressing their faces together in a hungry kiss.
Then it was time to check in with the Weaver’s and get pointed at the next incursions. Abominations had started showing up in the Lower Kve’ssrt Passage and rival clans were encroaching from the high tunnels. Much fighting to be done.
===***===
Some floating islands were so small they could be converted into vessels by sticking sails on. Even regular wind sails to drift on the currents that circulated through Hiwinymb did the job, although backup soul drives were the norm.
Two levels of wood and iron platforms ringed a car-sized rock, allowing half a dozen stalls on the upper deck and an off-limits warehouse below.
The merchant Hn’raj made his little island’s presence known by a balloon-sign above the market, hung with up-to-date boards telling of exotic wares. And since the market was powered by wind, it needed no slaves to run, leaving them for sale.
Chay, Xane and Diego were shorter than the absent demigods, earning them the team name Shorties originally. Xane had quickly offered Smartasses as a fitting, self-deprecating alternative. No consensus had been reached.
Chay had said nothing about hiding their identities but Xane preferred to walk around with slow blue lightning traveling along his veins, eyes aglow.
He just looked so fucking badass he would have made sweet love to himself if he could have. And he could — a mage-dick buried in his hole, shoving sexual perfection up his spine.
As the trio of mostly-not-that-short smartasses drifted through the loose crowd of Trolls, Hellions and one Drake, they pretend window shopped the fabrics and gadgets on display.
Behind them was the Sneak Attack’s janitor, a Glooper, holding in its transparent wardrobe-shaped body the stolen treasure chest Chay had managed to open without triggering a curse.
Currently, the Umbralist was staring at a smattering of dark books, both fiction and scientific literature.
“Chay?” Xane said and gave the leader a little ball squeeze.
“Yeah?” Chay asked, eyes still on the display table in front of him.
“You can splurge a little.”
Chay shook his head. “We don’t need any of these.”
“Not what you were looking for?” Diego said as he slipped between them, a hand on each of their shoulders. “No sappy romance novels?”
“Maybe,” Chay started, “we have a better negotiation position if we look like we came here for reasons other than buying slaves and-”
“Bitch,” Xane interrupted. “Just buy yourself a fucking book on, uh… history, adventure, illustrated meat pie recipes, I don’t fucking know what’s leisure to you. But not everything is a power play.”
“Haggling *is*,” Chay insisted.
“Live a little,” Diego added.
“Fuck, I hate that phrase,” Chay said. “And… but… okay.” He turned to the Glooper and switched to the clicking and smacking sounds of the Elementic language. “Money please!”
The wizard and the warder gave Chay a slap on the glutes as the leader waited for the treasure chest to squidge from the creature’s center to the front, lid open.
Chay grabbed books. Six Chronicles of the Lvuun Fortress, The Journey to Kla’a’aa, Way of the Hunt parts 1-4, and Royal Conversations. He dropped the asking price into the copper bowl under the watchful fire-eyes of the stalls surveillance noggin.
The Glooper kindly stored the bound tombs. Xane wondered if Chay would get the paper returned slightly digested but surely Chay would have thought to ask if that was a possibility.
Or was that giving the leader too much credit? Xane opened his mouth to-
“Nuh-uh,” Chay said and shook his head. “That’s rude to ask a Glooper.”
“Wow, okay, just read my mind then. Not creepy at all.”
Chay shrugged with a grin. “Just keeping you out of trouble.”
Diego gave Xane’s mohawk a ruffle. “You’re easier to read than you think.”
“Oh. How so?”
Diego chuckled. “Just a little bookworm humor.” He elbowed Chay. “He’s a jock, so of course that would go over his head.”
“I hate that phrase,” Xane said with a sigh.
“Sorry shorty,” Diego said, grabbed Xane’s face and pressed a kiss onto his neck.
“Now let’s get going,” he added and dragged his companions along the market ring. “Chay’s going to start hurting.”
“Already does,” Chay said, his hands vaguely covering the erection that poked from his black fundoshi.
“Could have told me,” Xane said. “Stay close.”
An invisible mage-mouth started sucking Chay’s dick, while an illusion covered the crotch to give it the appearance of a soft dick, tucked well away.
“What about me?” Diego said, giving Xane a light brush along the back and a magic ball squeeze.
Xane had a mage-tongue lick Diego’s hole. He loved showing off. And his power wasn’t even at its limits. He had less magic at his disposal without the motes but he was doing just fine with the upgrade.
They moved on, each one a little too wide legged to seem natural.
On the side of the ring opposite the barge docks was the tent stall where Hn’raj sat, a long roll of parchment by his side on which he scribbled numbers. Gnomes waited on him.
He was a Scourge Fiend, the wingless, white, vaguely aquatic demon who rarely took to high places like a floating market.
Chay gave himself a wafting cape of smoke, royal purple in color. He had finally managed to shift away from mere pink. Xane already missed the cartoonish pink blush.
“Master Hn’raj,” Chay began, nodding but not bowing. Was that the correct level of formality? Xane would have messed that up.
The umbralist stood just off to the side as he let the sales demon know they were interested in slaves, giving Hn’raj a view of the chest within their trusty block of jello.
Xane stood with arms crossed, letting his eyes crackle with blue lightning, just in case the muscular, marble-skinned fucker towering over them even on his sitting cushion was underestimating their power level.
Diego was playing with a ward orb, lazily juggling it from palm to palm. Xane intensified the mage-tongue’s licking. He enjoyed the expression of uncontrollable pleasure on the warder’s face, but also the faint sensation of rimming deep inside the man that the mage-tongue let Xane experience.
Negotiations were over before he knew it. Chay shoveled nearly half the treasure into a bowl the gnomes were holding up on a gnome-pyramid that looked much too fragile for the weight of obols.
The trio returned to their ship with seven diverse, bald hunks in tow. The shades were as catatonic as they came, since their hasty solidification had let little of their spirit congeal.
Xane corralled them ahead with harmless prods of thaum-force. Diego was ready with his transparent shields in case one of the musclemen stumbled off the side of the plank.
Chay stayed back to restock the Sneak Attack’s nectar vials with Hn’raj glorious sex juices, for a fair price.
Then it was time to go reunite the pantheon.
===***===
After ten minutes of flip-flop anal fucking, their dicks had softened and Xane considered the foreplay over.
He let Marcus drop on top of him and raised his legs. Marcus’ arms entered him halfway down the forearms, spreading the wizard’s hole with two fists.
Xane created a copy of the animus-fighter’s arms and slid them into Marcus’ own ass, letting the man fuck himself.
Feeling far beyond words, Xane became a whimpering mess.
Marcus, too, but they didn’t actually stop him from babbling with his too-cute lips.
“…and the Weavers sent a decoy army,” he brought out between wrecking convulsions, “and tricked the Footstompers into attacking with their whole army and so Peace & Quiet dropped from the ceiling and *bam*, we exploded five heads before they knew-”
Xane took a sip from the nectar vial Chay had given him and went temporarily blind and deaf to the world. He was drifting in a sea of Daemons fucking, a dozen cocks entering his head, jizzing into his brain. Muscles to worship — the lean, ochre ones, like on Marcus. Marcus who was kissing him, through the mouth, into the soul.
“You know,” real-life Marcus said as the nectar vision faded, “we don’t have to make out with demon cum. We can just, you know, make out. I did with Big G and he’s a good kisser. Maybe he can teach you.”
Xane’s throat was blocked by a whole-body fuck-seizure for a second, then he whispered, “I’m a fucking *great* kisser, asshole.”
A mage-hand grabbed Marcus by the bright white mohawk and pulled him in. Making him forget whatever Goro had done, showing him the joy of his… whatever Xane was. Definitely not boyfriend.
===***===
The central room of the ship was the only one fully enclosed, no view to the outside.
The gentle purple sheen of the vision gem, traced along the deep red clouds Chay had put under the arches, their diffuse ruby mixing with the sparse lanterns in the corners.
“An excessively romantic mood,” Goro said. “But I get that you’re trying different fog colors. Not that I’m complaining about a little romance.”
He looked down his abs where his own cum ropes were interspersed with Chay’s droplets. And farther down, between his legs where Chay’s head was, mouth wrapped around the aegis.
“Ready?”
Chay gave a thumbs up and the mania-beast pissed, fingers on his nipples.
There were buff, naked slaves all around them but none were the figment kind who could just be *asked* to piss. Unless the demigods wanted to drink from the Hellions again, they had to help each other out like usual.
“We’ll have to bring this load to Gloomwhisp before they pop, right?”
Chay slid from beneath Goro’s crotch and swallowed one last time. “Yeah, we’re going there once maintenance is done.”
“So how is the tap?” Goro asked. “Does my aegis make you miss yours?”
“…Maybe,” Chay confessed. “I’m in two minds about it to the point of despair.”
The smoke faded back to pink, which seemed to be its default color anytime Chay wasn’t paying attention.
Under the gentle hues, Goro sat down and started jerking off the shades nearest to him. He had already scouted their dick sizes and picked the two biggest.
“Do you need slug shit?” Chay asked. “I bet Marcus doesn’t need the ring for now.”
“They can get hard just fine,” Goro said. “And don’t distract from the topic. I can only recommend caging the beast again and being done with it. I know I felt *right* jerking off my own dick again but it feels *better* this way.”
Chay cocked his head. He was certainly using his umbra-senses, however that worked. Goro was fine with that. If he could have opened his brain and laid out every last intimate detail of his psyche to his friends, he would have.
“Who are you blabbermouth?” Chay eventually asked. “And what have you done with my mute brute?”
Goro smirked. “I’m trying to let you know what’s on my mind more often.”
“Ah,” Chay made. “Shouldn’t have left you alone with Marky-boy. No, seriously, this is a good change. Keep it up.”
Goro grunted in assent and bent over to start sucking a big human dong, enticed by the challenge, the muscle, and smell, and the fight against himself.
Chay got up and stretched, his pink fog fading to white and dissipating. He gave Goro a foot tap on the glutes. “If Gonyo Bana is done pulling the chains taut and feeling frisky, I’ll send him your way.”
Goro pulled up. “I thought you were going to join me here.” He nodded to the second big dick he had prepared.
“I’m not as crazy for cocksucking as you.”
“Oh come on, let’s have a couple’s date.”
Chay sighed and went to his knees. “Pretty sure I’ve never heard you say ‘come on’ before. Marcus really *is* a bad influence.”
Then Goro heard nothing but gagging and blowjob struggles. His favorite symphony.