Date: Thu, 18 May 2023 08:06:05 +0000 (UTC) From: Abra Cadabra Subject: vortex quest part 65 == VORTEX QUEST 6-4 == == SNAKE BY DAYLIGHT == Goro walked with more confidence, more swagger, more calm, now that his tiny black fundoshi pouch once again covered a heavenly cock cage that kept his rod minuscule. Looking at the muscleman with his umbra-sense, Chay got the impression Goro was as relaxed as if he'd come back from a meditation retreat. And all it had taken was to remove the tiny release valve to their mindboggling horniness. All that and more, Chay thought about while up to the elbow in the mania-warrior's guts, his eyes wandering over the rippling back muscles that flexed with every anal punch. While Goro was getting his ass hammered beyond human limits, he `supervised' Diego who was breathlessly scream-yelping as the Troll mechanic Gonyo Bana fucked into him with the biggest dick Diego had taken since regaining human form. Chay was of two minds about the newcomer. He had valuable talents, a lot of experience with the abyss, a magical mid-range weapon, and was as trustworthy as a creature in this world could be. But he was different from the pantheon – not suffering the same curses, lacking esper mind-protection, didn't even share their earthly history – so they couldn't just make him a full member yet. Not that Diego was *too* eager to work under Chay, having spent decades as an independent, prideful demonblood. Gonyo Bana cummed with a long grunt, his Olympia-worthy body spasming as Diego whimpered at the ass-filling load rushing up his over-stretched guts. A yellow, speckled lizard-face poked into the room. "Almost there, captain. Five notches, give or take." "Ah, good," Chay said. "Fuel status?" "We can make it back easily. Another journey like this would be stretching it." "Hhgng," Diego mumbled, drooling, on all fours, his pulsing ass leaking cum. "Yeah... stretching... ughhng." "Buy a shade," Chay said, "at Gaff Eeeskr'Wooo. Wake up the other demigods." As the helmsman retreated, Chay pulled down his fundoshi, his erection wiggling painfully hard. His fisting arm stayed inside Goro but the berserker kindly bent through his own legs, like Marcus' snail, and hammered Chay from below while the leader creamed out loads onto Goro's ass. Jerking off had become an irritating duty that cut into his enjoyment of real sex. Yeah, he had started thinking of anal as `real sex' long ago. But was he ready to put the cage on voluntarily – for good? Not yet. ===***=== Miles up, near the ceiling where upside-down trees spewed bubble clouds from their blossoms, was a nest, fully enveloping many times a floating rock the size of a mansion. The collection of twigs and entire tree crowns was the home of Starbeholder's old friend. Furies fluttered around the airborne nest, getting antsy at the Sneak Attack's approach. There were dozens. Chay was steaming with gray fog like a factory chimney, creating a large bubble of cover. At a respectful distance to the nest, the pantheon and Diego boarded the latter's ward-bowl, covered by the gray smoke all around. "Ready?" Chay asked. "Always," Diego said, slurring his words from superhuman relaxation after taking the eight inch wide Troll cock. "Can you keep up?" Chay nodded. Without the fan he couldn't make tendrils shoot from his mist but his overall speed had been kindly increased. He created a tunnel for Diego to see their target. "In there, before the chicken cunts get to react." "Hold on. Diego Air taking off." The group dashed to the largest nest entrance faster than the Furies could react. Alarming birdcalls and wing fluttering were audible outside the bubble but the demigods hopped into the next tunnel, twigs and dry bushels rustling underneath their feet. It smelled wooden and fruity. Sticks were in their way, arranged into a barrier with two Fury guards behind it. Chay kept the entrance blocked with his fog, took control of one guard and made it knock out the other. Xane stood ready with a purple projectile in each hand, covering their backs, while Marcus' burning hands sliced through the wood barrier like a knife through mere air. Goro walked ahead, his lit aegis pulled from his fundoshi, a smirk on his lips, fingers on his nipples. The center of the nest wasn't had to reach. Chay only had to suffuse the area with fog to prevent hypnotic attacks, puppeteering any bird-gal that came too close in the narrow, winding tunnels. Ruling over the mesmerizing birds was an Astral Wyrm, ancient and power-hungry enough to have grabbed a minute lordship by taking this bird stronghold. She was pale white, translucent and shimmering. The single serpentine head was raised high over the coil of her body but there was no tension in her. Void traveled along her body. She was ready to vanish at a moment's notice. Chay raised his hand. "Greetings mighty Gloomwhisp. We were sent by Starbeholder." She relaxed considerably. Knowing the Nightwyrm's name meant little but initiating conversation instead of an attack meant a lot. "You're difficult to reach," Chay continued. "We tried to be too fast for your underlings to fight us so we wouldn't have to kill any." "And what is your reason for coming?" she asked, now lowering her head. Something poked at Chay's brain and he didn't shut it down. Better she got her information from his mind than Diego's. They'd have to find an Esper Wyrm for him soon if they kept running into fucking snakes at his rate. "Hm," she murmured. "Temporal protection. I can teach you how to anchor yourselves in the present, yes. Immensely hard to achieve, but less tricky for a demigod, I suspect." "Great," Chay said. She seemed cooperative. Not eager but willing. She had high expectation for price gauging however. There was no way around a negotiation. "What will it cost?" Gloomwhisp acted as if she were thinking but Chay knew she had made up her mind. "One hundred slaves." Chay gave a light scoff. "The shortage is not resolved yet, which is of course why you want your hands on-" Was it offensive of take to a snake about `hands'? She didn't seem to have noticed. "-why slaves would be ideal for you even though you have no use for them. However, the current batch is all low quality. The Reapers only give a three ringspan guarantee until they might fall apart." "Your ship," Gloomwhisp said. "It uses souls. How long do the slaves really last?" "Five ringspans, maybe. We barely get to keep them around that long, though, before they go in the engine. Twenty slaves should be plenty." Fuck, it felt weird to talk about people like that, even if they weren't `really' people. "Eighty slaves, then," Gloomwhisp said. "In smaller batches. I can surely sell that much." "You'd mostly send them to local lords, right?" Chay asked. "Since you're at the border of several territories. More a gesture of goodwill toward your neighbors than profit." "Perhaps. Sixty slaves and you deliver a letter to Starbeholder and bring me the response." "Forty and the letters," Chay said, already seeing himself foist the messenger duty on a crewmate, or maybe even Shadowhand if they had a purse of obols to spare. "Fifty," Gloomwhisp said with finality. "Delivered as you acquire them." Chay gave a bow. This was going to be a lot of work but doable. "You may leave as you came," the Astral Wyrm said and gave an ear-shattering whistle. Chay let the fog fade and saw they were surrounded by waiting Furies who folded their spread wings, hypnotic patterns tucked away. The five demigods left under a dozen watchful bird eyes with the rustle of feathers whispering throughout the nest structure. ===***=== The White Seep Lake drank the contributions of four creeks. It was held back by a century old dam of rugged bricks and let a thin stream of water rain down a nearly three mile cliff into a lightless gorge. The Niagara Falls would have blushed in shame. Atop the dam was the Hak-Haak-Guuun Crossroad - a tiny, Lich-run trading village of summoned, skeletal creatures, of sand-based craft workshops and of general commerce, with a dock where small barges were parked to haggle over the trickle of slaves available. Five figures clad in soul-sail repair rags were lounging at a food cart by the Crossroad entrance, watching the business proceedings from afar as pink clouds played around their feet. A spinning neon ring of flashing colors hovered over the food cart, advertising freshly scraped rust mold in scraggly runes. More such illusory signs decorated the village. It almost created a cyberpunk nightclub atmosphere. Chay had dropped two obols to get jugs of Grrrgrrrng for everyone, declining the complimentary mold loafs – they *looked* well enough like bread to risk trying but smelled... funky. Diego had instead bought himself a mug of steaming hot Fnee-fnee sap with a shot of vodka. "I'd say I've missed this," Diego said, leaning back on the counter. "But I've never really *had* this, you know?" "Hanging out?" Marcus asked. "Or alcohol?" "Not having to hide. Belonging." "We're kinda still hiding," Chay reminded them. He tugged on his clothing that hung off his shoulder. "If Gonyo Bana hadn't whipped us up these `tunics' we'd need some illusions." He checked their naked legs were still hidden in his pink mist to lend them an otherworldly appearance. Xane made himself grow antennae. "Could still slap something together." "So... you're with us now?" Marcus asked the ward-demigod. Diego gave a noncommittal head-wiggle. "What's the plan after you've saved those time-frozen fuckers?" "You have more experience with the abyss," Chay said. "Any vacation spots you'd recommend?" He'd sensed the man had waited for this question. Diego grinned. "You didn't check out the Temple of the Wild Ride while you were in Jheyr'Udd, right? One of few places in that realm worth going to. Oh, ever since seeing the Reaper's worldtree in Mockery, I wanted to go check out Evpnekh. It's supposed to be all jungle – trees within trees within trees. Nevo'Vragga had amazing hot springs back when we visited during my divine mission. Almost peaceful for a slice of hell. Higo-Tuku is the realm with the most bits and pieces from Heaven if you're into that. Just gotta avoid their Eternal Battlegrounds." "And what about us?" Chay asked, lightly tugging on his friend's open signatures and smirking at the flinching from Xane and Marcus. Marcus glanced back at the cart host who mixed tea. "Maybe I *will* give barista-dom another shot, who knows?" Goro gave a long hum. "In that case... From the revolutionary academy, we know there's gyms." Chay had to laugh. "You want to be a personal trainer?" Goro grinned back. "Just a thought. A sexy as fuck thought." Xane rubbed his chin. "Maybe I can be a freelance artist. Hey, don't laugh, assholes. A sculptor! Somebody's gotta be making all these totems and idols and shit. I'll carve any Daemon's face into a rock if I get paid in drugs and sex." Chay let out a pathetic whine as his balls got crushed. He wasn't the only one. Diego chuckled. "Sorry. Too strong? I was just checking if they're still active." Xane rolled his shoulders. "Man, we need to get you one of those magic ball-tatts." Diego waved him off. "Nah, I'm good." As the demigods continued to chat, a Fiend landed at the entrance to the dam settlement. Molten gold hung off his horns as jewelry, a white cape hung off the sole pauldron on his chest strap. His loincloth had the double bulge of two semihard dicks, bouncing between his red, gloriously muscled thighs that vibrated with every mighty step. He carried a small tentacle abomination in a duffle bag like a puppy. Chay swallowed hard as the demonling walked past, folding his wings over the rippling glutes. He looked at his companions to seem casual but noticed each one was staring. "Fuck," Chay said. "Petition to rename the pantheon to `horny faggots on the hunt for cock'." "Bit of a mouthful," Marcus said. Goro huffed. "Two demon-dicks' worth of mouthful, I'd say." Xane gave a long sigh. "Like hanging out at the bar, staring after chicks. But about fifty times more desperate. And we're literally addicted to... the chick's... cum? Sorry, metaphor machine broke." Chay pinched Xane's nipple. "You know we can just ask that hunk if he wants to ravage some willing slave asses, right?" "Guess so." The wizard tried to spot the still haggling Hellions in the market area. "Do we have time?" Diego downed the rest of his hot sap and clapped his hands. "My whole human life I've wished I could go to a freer country and visit a gay bar." Xane pointed his thumb at the glaring neon ring above. "Sorry, pal, this is just a mold station." The warder shot him a grin, grabbed Chay by the wrist and started walking. "Dips on at least one nectar cumshot up the backdoor." Chay let himself get dragged along. The others followed. "I guess you expect me to do the talking?" the umbralist assumed. "Oh please," Diego said. "This is the abyss. Everyone's horny." ===***=== Chay had handed off Diego-supervision-duty to the couple in the golden fundoshi. Marcus was rambling the fifth demigod's ears off while Xane played styling consultant, putting illusions on Diego for judgement. Chay retreated to the engine room at the center of the vessel, where three bald, anonymous musclemen cuddled in a corner, drooling in the red gleam of psychaceous rubinite and the trans-alethium's purple luster. Seventh, the Hellion who was tall even for the usually well-grown, red-skinned creatures, had become Chay's de facto first mate. "I assume," Seventh started, "you want to avoid territories right around Gloomwhisp's cave." "Yes," Chay said. He wasn't just `distracted' by the bulging demon-red muscles barely hidden under a few leather straps. He was so far past earthly horniness that the sight of a Hellion alone was orgasmic – without a shred of the relief you'd expect to go along with it. Rock hard dick tucked into his fundoshi-hem, Chay studied the map. "This route. How well guarded is it now?" "Badly," Seventh said. "But that also means it's barely used. Maybe focus on low flying liners. Those are generally short distance and not well equipped. Since you're not looking for booty beside a few slaves..." Another crewman entered. Twelfth Hatched of the Ninth Brood, aka `Twelfth', bringing more maps from the helm. He was naked. Seventh gave him a disapproving glare from the skull-sockets. Twelfth shrugged as he dropped the scroll, his fifteen incher slapping his ripped legs. "Co-captain Xane asked for a sample of my armor for improvements. Then he sucked me off." "Co-Captain, huh?" Chay said to himself with a chuckle. "I'm displeased," Seventh said. "But slaves don't usually ask to get their faces fucked. And none are this... practiced." Chay pushed his fundoshi down. "Yeah yeah, I get it. Grab the ectoplasma." He turned around and waited for the flat cockhead to explode his sphincter and push onward, a thick meat tube sliding into him, and farther and farther, winding along twenty two inches of his guts. He was getting ripped apart with pleasure in places Chay-from-earth hadn't know he *had* places. He didn't even want to jerk off, just tugging at his open signature to crush the cum out of his balls. Whimpering like a bitch, Chay let himself fall apart once again. Everything and everyone in the abyss wanted to fuck him. Metaphorically and often anatomically. The map on the table was forgotten by now, but without a sip of nectar he kept in mind that he had plans to make. Fifty slaves weren't going to collect themselves. His eyes fell on the purple crystal on its central pillar. Illusions were going to make slave raids easier but also cost souls to operate. A tricky calculation he'd make later. Twelfth was back and placed his cockhead on the umbralist's lips. Chay took a medium breath and held it. The monstercock pushed in, bypassing his gag reflex with one thrust and pushing on down his entire esophagus. It was an incredibly sexy violation, brutally uncomfortable yet divinely easy to accommodate. Glorious stimulation. Seventh handed over a tiny flask, his personal nectar supply, and let Twelfth drizzle a bit onto his cock as it half-retracted from Chay's interior. Gold drops along the red rod entered the demigod with a long, long slide. Then Chay went blind to the world around him with a burst of lust.