As with the previous chapters, the following disclaimers/conditions apply: This story is a fictitious account. Any relation to any persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. This story contains male-to-male sex between consenting adults. If you are under the age of 18, or if it is illegal in the area in which you live to read such materials, please continue no further. This story is copyrighted by the author, and no portion of this story may be copied, distributed or republished without the author's express, written consent.
Author's Note: It may be confusing to figure out where I'm going with each new chapter. Although I'm trying to write this story in a linear, progressive fashion, the linearity is in the stream of time consciousness, rather than in the development of each character. Each chapter is devised to stand alone as a story all on its own. So, if this is the first chapter that you are reading, welcome. I hope that you find it enjoyable. There will be some references that you won't understand, but hopefully you'll still be able to find this story enjoyable. For a little more cohesion, I would definitely suggest going back to the beginning and working your way through from there.
All that said, here is the next chapter of "The Guardian". I would appreciate any and all feedback -- good, bad, and indifferent. Enjoy! ===========================================================================
"This, I need," he thought as he stormed through the apartment, following the boy's scent, tracking him. "I break my concentration for a few moments in the last 24 hours, he wakes up and everything goes to hell."
As he scrambled through the apartment, seeking out the boy, the guardian cursed himself. The goddess was right: he shouldn't have brought the boy here. Deep in his heart, he knew that. It was a big mistake. He was not the only one to use this sanctuary; there were many other ancient beings who called this edifice home. Many of the rooms in this penthouse apartment were innocuous enough, but there were several rooms that no mortal should ever see. The guardian felt the dread creep into the pit of his stomach. What if he found the room of the ancient warlock, Chris? Even though Chris was his mentor and would not do him much harm, the guardian did not want to be the one to tell the wizard that some human found his book of spells.
"I should just sedate him again," he said aloud. He knew the attempt would be worthless. He hadn't rested in nearly three days, and the last day and a half he had push himself beyond his limits. Between altering the memories of the men at the club, keeping this boy -- what the hell was his name, anyway? Brad. That's right... Brad. Well, between all else and keeping Brad telepathically sedated, and searching the astral plane for the creature, his head felt as if it could explode at any moment. He was weary, physically and emotionally, and now he would have to find this boy soon and erase his mind.
"When it rains, it pours, I guess," he said with a chuckle, running up the stairs. He could use a nice elemental shower right now. He would have to create a nice storm in the rejuvenation chamber when this was over. He made his way to the top of the stairs and let out a sigh of relief. The boy was in the bedroom at the end of the hall. No damage had been done. But he knew that he was far too weary to try to erase the boy's mind. Sloppy telepathic manipulation could have devastating psychological effects. Chris had taught him that above all else. He would have to work carefully... he needed to come up with a convincing lie. As he made his way to the door, he bit his lower lip and furrowed his brow. Lying was not his strongest suit.
===============
Brad looked around at the expansive bedroom. He didn't know exactly where he was, and he wasn't certain if he was having another dream or not. Everything just seemed so unreal. How did he get here? He didn't have a single memory that was concrete. All he had was those crazy dreams and nightmares.
He sat on the bed. The bed was firm. The room had the feel of an old-fashioned, almost Victorian master bedroom. The bed he was sitting upon could easily have fit five or six grown men. The headboard was carved of thick cherry wood, and the four bedposts stretched all the way to the ceiling. Draped across the bedposts was a canopy, made of a translucent fabric. Brad stretched out along the bed, resting against one of the seven thick down pillows. He scanned the room. There were two massive bookcases along the wall, and each bookcase seemed to be carved from the same wood as the bed. In fact, all the furniture in the room seemed to be made from the same type of wood. The binding on the books in the bookcase gave Brad the impression that none of the books were from the modern era.
In front of the bookcase was a writing desk and a wooden chair. The writing desk was equipped with parchment and a quill. On the desk, there was an open book, and one piece of parchment lay on top of the open page. Someone was either here and working, or had been here very recently.
Just then, Brad heard the door handle move and the large oak door swung open. Standing in the archway was a strikingly handsome man. His stance gave him the appearance of someone much taller than he actually was, and Brad could see through the fine-tailored, slightly unbuttoned shirt that this man had a serious physique on him. The man had a rectangular face, with a strong, square jaw -- which, Brad noticed, was tightly clenched. His skin was flawlessly smooth; he looked like someone made his skin from freshly poured chocolate. His hair was cut short; his head almost looked shaved, save for a very fine layer of wavy jet-black hair. His legs were strong and surprisingly long, and seemed to belong to a much taller man. His muscular arms seemed equally disproportionate; Brad guessed that this man would have a wingspan of more than six feet, even though he didn't seem as tall as his arms were long.
Brad felt uncomfortable as the man just stood there and stared, eyebrows furrowed and lower lip bitten. Brad couldn't see the man's eyes, as the glasses he wore were heavily tinted. Brad wondered if he had stumbled into this man's bedroom or private study, and he began to worry that the missing piece of last night's puzzle was a very essential one.
"Um, hi, I'm Brad," Brad stuttered, making his way across the floor toward the door. He extended his hand as he walked, trying to figure out what he should do.
"Hello."
"Um, I guess you're wondering what I'm doing in your bedroom, huh? Um... well, that's a funny thing, because I'm wondering what I'm doing here, too." Brad chuckled uncomfortably, withdrawing his outstretched hand. The man at the door raised one eyebrow. He was either looking at Brad quizzically, or he was not very amused. Brad wished he could see the man's eyes to tell the difference.
"You don't know how you got here?" The man asked, releasing his hold on the door handle and making his way into the room.
"Um, no, actually, I don't. I must have been pretty trashed to have forgotten, though. Um, we didn't hook up, did we?"
"No. Definitely not."
"Ah. Well... um, do you have a roommate or something that I might have hooked up with?"
"No, I don't. Listen, why don't I take you downstairs? I can fix you a cup of coffee and call you a cab to get you home. Or, if you'd like, I can call the doctor and have someone take a look at you." The man was now in the room and had made his way over to the desk by the bookcase. He quickly fit the parchment into the open book and closed it. He slid the book back into its place and turned around to face Brad, who had maneuvered his way back to the large bed.
"Um... I guess that would be fine. The cab, I mean. I don't think I need to see a doctor. This isn't the first time I woke up in a strange place," Brad said, issuing another uncomfortable chuckle. He began rubbing his temples. He felt the beginnings of a terrific headache. Whatever he did last night, he was going to pay for it today.
Brad went to sit down on the bed and his knees went weak. Suddenly, he was no longer back in the bedroom but he was back in that same stall from his dreams earlier. Only this time he was having an out of body experience; he could see himself being attacked by a thing that looked a lot like David.
"No! Please! NOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Brad heard his dream self scream. He was seeing himself from above, but he was equally powerless to do anything to stop it. He was trying desperately to wake himself up, but it was no use. He felt himself close his eyes and reopen them. This time he was back in his own body, and the thing was standing over him, its eyes glowing green and large, razor-like talons stemming from his fingers. Its hands began to glow as bolts of electricity shot from its fingers, striking Brad's body. All he felt was enormous pain, and for the second time in as many hours, he could feel as if he were dying.
Suddenly, he saw the face of the man at the door. The man's image appeared in the stall. Only now the man wasn't wearing his glasses, and his eyes were an incandescent type of blue. The man reached his hand out to Brad, and although the man seemed transparent, Brad reached out and touched the man's hand.
Brad opened his eyes again and he was back in the man's bedroom, holding the mysterious man's hand. He was lying flat on his back on the floor, and the man was helping him to his feet. Even though the man was wearing glasses again, Brad could tell that he was perplexed and concerned.
"Are you okay?" The man asked.
"Yes. No. I don't know. I think so," Brad stammered as the man helped him to his feet. "I don't really know what just happened."
"You went to sit on the bed and you just collapsed. You began to seizure, but you seemed to come out of it as I came over here. Are you sure you don't need to see a doctor?" Brad could hear the concern in the man's voice. There seemed to be an eerie sense of knowing in the words he said, too, almost as if he saw exactly what Brad saw when he collapsed.
"I just don't know what's going on," Brad said, sitting down gently on the bed. He could feel his eyes begin to burn with tears. Although he tried to fight them, all his frustration over his lack of any concrete memory and these terrifying dreams or flashes got the better of him. He began to cry, his face buried in his hands.
"Brad, it's okay," the brusque man said, putting his hand on Brad's shoulder. "Look, you didn't get here by accident. You were in a bad state last night and you couldn't tell me where you lived, so I brought you home with me in order for you to get some sleep. I just didn't expect you to wake up and go wandering through my home. I should have said something sooner. I'm sorry. I guess I wanted to know how much you remembered."
"What do you mean I was 'in a bad state'?" Brad cried. "I never get that drunk. What happened last night? What's going on in my head?"
"Telepathic manipulation gone wrong," an echoing female voice uttered. Brad was visibly freaked and bolted for the door. A sudden, powerful force lifted him off the floor and transported him back onto the bed. The same force slammed the heavy oak door shut.
"Do not fret, Bradley, I shall not hurt you," the female voice uttered again. There was a blinding flash of lightning followed by a deafening crack of thunder. Brad opened his eyes and she was there. The mysterious man didn't seem the least bit surprised at what just happened. He stood by the foot of the bed, arms akimbo. He just stood there watching, befuddled and seemingly angry.
"What the hell is going on?" Brad shouted, panicked. "What's HAPPENING here?"
"Calm down, Bradley. All will become clear soon enough. My name is Shiara, and I am the mistress of the goddess of the earth."
"Mistress of the earth? Wha-- how... what the fuck is going on?" Brad was panicking more and more, and his heart was beating so hard and fast he could actually feel it pounding in his chest.
The stunning woman's eyes began to glow a bright shade of silver. Her hair was long, wavy, and white, a striking contrast to her copper skin. She was wearing an asymmetrical dress of the sheerest fabric Brad had ever seen. The dress seemed almost a toga, wrapped around one shoulder and covering her large breasts. Her tight abdomen and back were exposed, and the fabric hugged tightly around her hips and draped the floor. She was long and painfully beautiful.
"Hear my voice, Bradley. You cannot resist the sound of my voice. You are panicking to the point of danger. There is no need. Be calm." The sound of her voice was melodic, almost hypnotic, like that of the fabled sirens of Greek mythology. Brad felt himself lulled to tranquility, as his panic was replaced by a deep sense of ease. He didn't quite feel like he was being hypnotized, but he definitely knew that he was being manipulated in some way.
"Do not be afraid, I am here to give you answers to everything that you need to know. Starting with what happened to you last night."
===============
Patrick scrambled out of the bar, up three flights of stairs and into the street. Bill and his trick were nowhere to be found. Patrick cursed himself. He wished that the bar wasn't so crowded. He had a bad feeling, and no matter how unreasonable he tried to convince himself that he was being, he just couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen.
Patrick leaned himself against the brick wall of the building and closed his eyes. He tried to think about what he really saw. At first he wasn't sure, but the more he thought about it, the more certain he was that he saw that man's eyes... well, glow. He cursed himself again. He was being ludicrous. There was no way that a man's eyes could glow, was there?
"Come on, Patrick, get a grip on yourself," he berated himself. "You're being ridiculous. Your eyes are just playing tricks on you, that's all. You know that there's no way you saw what you think you saw. Maybe you've had a few more drinks than you thought you did." The cool night air felt good against Patrick's face. He looked up and down the empty street and let out a sigh. He pushed himself off the wall and made his way back down into the bar.
As he was walking down the steps, he got the idea to give Bill's cellphone a call. He slapped himself in the head for taking so long to think about it, and reached in his pocket for his cell. He had Bill's number on speed dial. Within seconds, Bill picked up.
"Hey, Pat, what's up?"
"Bill... um -- ", Patrick stuttered. Suddenly he felt real stupid. He cursed himself and his face flushed a little. Just what was he going to say to Bill, anyway? 'Watch out, I think the guy you left with has eyes that glow?'
"Pat, you there?"
"Yeah, Bill, I'm here. I was just... wondering if you took the car with you or if you left it here."
"Nah, Damien is giving me a ride. I don't know where we're going exactly, but I'm not gonna complain, if you know what I mean." Patrick could hear the mischief in Bill's voice. Bill was definitely enjoying himself, Patrick thought. That much was obvious.
"So, do you want me to wait for you to come back, or is he going to take you all the way back to campus?"
"Well, I'm only his for an hour or so, so I'll be back. Why don't you go and try to have some fun of your own?"
"I might just have to do that. I can't have you be the only getting any action tonight." Patrick teased. He felt a chill down his spine and he quickly turned and ran to the top of the steps to check the street. He felt really uncomfortable again. As he checked up and down the street and realized that no one was there, he didn't feel any more at ease.
"Yo, Pat, you still there? Pat? Pat, you there?"
Patrick was clutching the cellphone at his waist, his eyes feverishly checking the street. He heard Bill's voice faintly and put the phone back to his ear. "Yeah, Bill, I'm still here. Hey, look, I just want you to be careful, okay? I've got a bad feeling that I just can't shake... almost like someone is watching us or something. I don't know, I can't explain it."
"Dude, you are always so paranoid that your father is going to catch you in the act and beat you to death. Pat, he is all the way across the country. There isn't going to be any surprise trip out here, and your secret is safe. Now just enjoy yourself, all right? Everything's fine."
"Bill, it's not about my dad. It's just that --"
"It's just that you need to relax, man. I mean it. Now, I'm not going to hear anymore talk about this. I'm going to have great fun with a very hot man, and you are going to go and yourself some ass. That's what we came here for. Now go!"
"Bill --"
"Pat! Relax! It's all good. I'll see you in a couple of hours, okay?"
"Okay, man. Be careful. Be safe."
"You, too, bro. It's okay, really. You'll see. It's fine. I'll see you in a few hours. Peace out."
With that, the phone went silent in Patrick's hand, and his friend Bill was gone. Patrick had half a mind to call him back and try to impress his fears upon his friend, but he knew that would be no good. Plus, there was nothing he could do about it from here, anyway. He had no idea where Bill was. He was just going to have to relax and pray that everything would be all right. He was just going to have to go back into the bar and try to enjoy himself.
==========
Within fifteen minutes, Damien's sleek black Mercedes Benz pulled into a multiple-level parking garage. Damien parked quickly and efficiently; he handled his car with expertise and care. Upon parking, Bill followed a few steps behind Damien as they made their way to the parking garage elevator. Bill made a mental note that Damien hadn't said a single word since they left the bar. In fact, if it hadn't been for Patrick's call, the entire car ride would have been made in silence. Damien didn't even make the usual "We're here" or "Come on" remarks that are standard when bringing someone new to your place. Bill just shrugged it off as part of the mystique. Some guys often got a little tense with bringing some random trick home.
Damien pressed the button for the top floor, a bell rang and Damien slid his key card into the slot. Only then did the elevator ascend. As the elevator rose, Bill noticed that there were two sets of doors. There were the doors that led to the outside, and then there were the glass doors encasing the elevator car. As they rose past the four-level parking garage, they were suddenly rising through the middle of a very expansive hotel. Bill could see porters carting luggage to and fro, he could see maids preparing rooms, room service waiters pushing large food carts, and various patrons scuttling about. From the decor, Bill guessed that they were in a four- or five-star hotel.
The glass doors opened, and Damien stepped out of the elevator, with Bill in tow. Damien's stride was both brisk and long; Bill was having to walk double-time just to keep up. They walked down a long hallway, and Bill saw that there were no other rooms on this floor. Damien slid his key card into the door, and the door unlocked itself. He quickly walked inside... again, without saying a word.
Damien flipped a switch and the room was enveloped in a soft, warm light. There were large windows from one corner of the room to the other, offering and expansive view of the city lights below. Damien threw his large coat onto a chair and proceeded to take off his shoes. He walked into another room and switched the light on. Bill stayed in the main living area and walked around. He had never been in a room so fancy before. He noticed that the carpet was thick and incredibly soft. He could hardly hear his own footsteps as he walked around. Since there were windows around the perimeter of the room instead of walls, all of the furniture was in the middle of the floor. There was a large black leather couch, with a matching sofa and easy chair arranged elegantly around a black oval coffee table. Bill crossed the floor to the liquor cabinet. He noticed that there was every sort of expensive whiskey, scotch, and brandy in the cabinet. One bottle had an engraving that said it was a 250-year-old bottle of whisky, one of only 150 bottles in the world. That bottle alone was worth $25,000. Bill was beginning to wonder just how rich Damien was.
"Take off your clothes," boomed a voice from another room. Bill turned around and saw Damien making his way toward him. He had changed his clothes and was now wearing only a tight pear of International Male boxer shorts. The boxers were cut low and showed the "V-line" below his impressive six-pack of abs. Bill gasped when he cast his eyes at what was prominently bulging in Damien's underwear. Damien was soft and it looked as if he were at least seven inches long already.
"Did you hear me? Take off your clothes, and put this on." Damien's olive skin had a healthy glow in the soft light. He was walking slowly toward Bill, each one of his muscles flexing and relaxing as he traversed the floor. He was now inches away from Bill, and Bill could feel the heat radiating from Damien's body.
Damien held up the fabric again. "Go into the other room, strip and put this on. I'll come and get you in a minute."
Bill took the silk fabric from Damien's hand and walked toward the bedroom. He quickly stripped off his navy shirt and blue jeans. He quickly folded them and laid them in a pile. Next he took of his Speedo briefs and socks and added them to the pile of his other things. He then took the silk kerchief and tied it around his eyes. He assumed that's where Damien wanted him to put it. Then he stood and waited.
It seemed to take about fifteen minutes before Damien finally came back into the room. Bill could feel the warmth of his skin as he ran his hands along Bill's body, inspecting him.
"Very nice. You will do well," Damien said, caressing the soft globes of Bill's perky ass. "Are you ready for what the next hour has in store for you?"
"Yes, I am," Bill said, already getting aroused by the soft caress. He felt something cold placed around his neck, and then he heard a metallic click. Before he could protest, he was led -- neck first -- into the other room.
Bill could not see where they were going, but they were walking for an awfully long time to just be going back into the living room. He heard a series of doors open, and he knew that he was passing from room to room. His only indication of where they had been was the lack of plush, velvet carpeting from one room to the next.
As Bill was being led to his destination, he thought he had heard someone crying or whimpering in the distance. It was low, and it was definitely muffled, but he was sure that he heard a soft cry. He remembered hearing Patrick urging him to be safe and careful, but he quickly dismissed the notion that he was in any sort of danger.
They entered another room and Bill heard a rather heavy door swing shut and lock. Bill surmised that either the door locked itself shut, or that he and Damien were not the only ones present in the room. Once his blindfold was removed, he saw that the latter was true.
The room looked like a sex pit from a porno. There were five guys standing along the wall: A trio of tall and ridiculously chiseled white guys, and two incredibly massive black guys that looked more like a couple of lineman from Bill's team. There was another guy sitting in the sling. He was asian, he had shoulder-length jet-black wavy hair. His skin was tanned, and he had very full, soft-looking lips. He was completely hairless from head to toe. He was muscular, but he was nowhere near as built as the other guys in the room. In fact, he was rather petite and looked to be more Bill's size than anyone else's.
As Bill surveyed the room and the men occupying it, he noticed that there was another sling in the room next to the one the asian man was in. It became all-too clear to him who was going to be in that sling.
"Bill, we're going to have some fun," Damien said, putting his hand on Bill's shoulder. Bill turned and looked at Damien and saw a sixth man pass behind him. This man was obviously the one who had bolted the door shut. He was an older gentleman, seemingly in his late forties or early fifties. His skin, however, belied his age; Bill couldn't see a single wrinkle among the man's strong features. His black hair was salted with streaks of gray and white, giving him a dashing, older Englishman kind of appeal. The man's eyes were ice-blue, a striking contrast to his sunned skin and dark hair. He had strong, broad shoulders, massive pecs, superbly defined biceps and triceps, and not a single ounce of fat on his stomach. The man was tall -- he looked to be about 6'4" or so -- and although he wasn't the tallest man in the room, he was by far the most statuesque. He was wearing a loincloth of sorts, and Bill could see the large mounds of muscles that was the man's ass flex as he walked soundlessly across the floor, his strong legs supporting his every move with ease and a sense of grace the belied his size. As he moved to the other side of the room, the men that were lining the wall separated for him.
One thing was certain to Bill: this man was definitely the alpha-male of the group.
The older man nodded silently at Damien, and Damien led Bill to the sling. Bill was a little nervous, but his excitement at his first orgy was overpowering any dwindling apprehension. He laid back in the sling and looked to his right at the asian man who was next to him. He noticed that the man was probably more of a teenager; he didn't seem to be any older than 20. Not that Bill was that much older, himself.
The two black men were the first to approach the slings. They were both the same height, about 6'6" or so, and they looked like the nose guard on the team. Their arms were massive, as were their pecs, shoulders, necks, and legs, but neither of them had defined stomachs. In fact, the word "beer gut" came to mind when Bill looked at the two of them.
The man in front of Bill pulled down his shorts and began stroking his dick. Bill couldn't see the size of the man, but looking at how tall he was -- and thinking about that stereotypical rumor -- Bill was prepared for this to hurt. He felt something cool and greasy slip in and out of his ass, and he knew that the man had lubed up his index finger and was loosening Bill up.
He heard the young man in the sling next to him start to whimper. He looked over and he saw the other men who were standing along the wall approach the sling. One of the guys grabbed the kid by his hair and turned his head sharply. The man then slammed his dick into the kid's throat. All the way. Bill heard the boy start to groan and gag as the man started to fuck his face hard. Bill heard the man's balls slapping against the boy's chin as the boy stifled coughs and chokes to suck the larger man's rod.
"You know the deal, don't you dare bite me," the larger man said. His abs flexed as he violently thrust his dick in and out the kid's mouth. Bill couldn't see the boy's face, but he was sure that this kid was probably not enjoying himself.
"Aaaah!" The boy stopped sucking on the man's dick for a minute to cry out. The black man had slammed his condom-wrapped dick into the boy's ass with as much ferocity as the other man was face-fucking him. He heard the boy pant and cry with each thrust of the larger man's dick.
"Suck my dick, boy. Don't worry about him fucking your ass. Suck my dick. Now!" The boy did as he was told and started to suck the man's dick again. Bill could hear the boy whimper as he took a violent fucking in the face and up the ass. Bill was slightly turned on by the sounds of all the flesh slapping flesh, but he was worried for the kid at the same time.
"Don't you worry about him, son, you just pay attention to Roy," the bass voice boomed. Bill turned his head back to the man who was standing in front of him -- apparently his name was Roy -- and saw the man working a condom onto his dick. All he could see was the purple swollen mushroom head of the man's cock. Bill saw the man using two hands to put the condom on, and he knew that wasn't a good sign. Bill was a size queen, and he was used to taking big dicks, but his ass was always tight, and it took a while for him to get used to a big cock. Once he got used to it, though, he would beg to be fucked like an animal. Hearing the boy next to him whimper made Bill a little more than nervous.
Bill felt the shot of pain as the man starting pressing his engorged head at the hole of Bill's ass. Bill started to massage his own nipples and work on his own cock in order to loosen up and not worry about the pain. It wasn't working as he felt the man push that fat cockhead in.
"Ow... fuck! Fuck that hurts! Aaah!" Bill cried out. He was jacking himself off hard now, trying to get aroused. The man didn't slow down as he pressed himself further into Bill's ass.
Bill felt his face flush from the pain as the man slid all nine inches into his ass. Bill was trying to push against the man's torso, but it was no use. Lying flat on his back with his legs in the air provided him with no leverage, and even if it did, the man was more than twice his size. He wanted Bill's ass, and he, as well as every other man in this room, was going to get what he wanted.
"Ah, fuck! Fucking hell that hurts! Fuck! Ah... shit!" Bill kept trying to ignore the pain. He used all his tricks -- breathing through his stomach, massaging his nipples, jacking himself off -- nothing was working. Bill felt as if he were being ripped open. He had never been spread so wide before. He could feel the tears run down his cheeks. He wasn't enjoying this at all.
He felt two warm, strong hands on his torso. He looked up and saw Damien. His mouth was moving, but Bill couldn't hear any words that he was saying. He almost looked like he was cooing softly. His hands felt good as they slid teasingly along Bill's torso.
Damien's hands caressed and teased Bill's erect nipples, his fingers flicking over them delicately and rapidly. He slid his hands down to Bill's stomach, clawing his way gently back up Bill's body. All the while, Roy was fucking Bill hard, his thrusts echoing in the small chamber, keeping rhythm with the other man fucking the other young boy in the sling.
Whatever Damien was doing felt great. Bill felt as if his body was on fire. He didn't even feel pain anymore as Roy slammed his ass. Every touch, every sensation -- even that of Roy's power-fuck -- was heightened. All Bill felt was intense pleasure. He could feel himself start to cum.
"Oh, fuck, I'm coming! Man, I'm gonna come!" Bill's eyes rolled into the back of his head as he felt an intense orgasm that made his toes curl. His ass was clenching tightly around Roy's dick, but even that didn't slow Roy down as he mercilessly plowed into Bill's tight ass, causing the sling to jerk back and forth with each thrust.
Bill's orgasm came crashing over him in strong waves. Every time the pleasure seemed to ebb, he would be pushed back to the peak of his orgasm again. Not only was this the most intense orgasm he'd ever had, but it seemed to last the longest, too. His muscles finally stopped contracting as his breath returned to normal and his body began to relax. He was reeling from the power of his orgasm.
Bill thought he would be drenched in his own cum, his orgasm was so intense. But when he looked down at his body, he was clean and dry. All that greased his torso was his own sweat. He looked up at Damien, perplexed. Maybe his cum splattered all over Damien's torso and face, instead? But Damien was as clean as Bill was, his hands still running over Bill's body, his mouth still moving indiscernibly.
As the orgasmic sensations subsided, Bill looked back at his cock and saw that he was still rock hard. In fact, he could feel another orgasm building at the pit of his stomach. All his muscles began to tense as he felt his second orgasm building in intensity.
The young man next to him seemed to be having a similar experience. There was one guy still face-fucking him, and the black man was fucking him as hard as Roy was fucking Bill, but one of the two white guys who were standing along the wall came over to him and started caressing him in the same way that Damien was caressing Bill. The young man couldn't speak, but he was no longer whimpering as before; now he was moaning as he felt his own orgasm begin. Within moments, an intense orgasm overtook the young man, but, like Bill, he didn't ejaculate. He remained hard as his first orgasm subsided and another one began.
After minutes of being viciously fucked by Roy, Roy pulled out of Bill's ass and the third white guy standing against the wall came over to the sling where Bill was. He had fiery red hair and rich green eyes. His skin was freckled, and he had the body of a swimmer. His gaze was intense, and he stared Bill straight in the eye as he slid his cock into Bill's ass. He wasn't as thick as Roy was, but his dick was longer. Bill guessed that he had to be at least ten inches.
Unlike Roy, this new man started fucking Bill deep and slow. He would slide his dick in all the way to the hilt, and then slowly ease it out, leaving only the head inside. Then he would repeat the motion, over and over and over again. The whole time, he stared Bill directly in the eye. Bill couldn't help but return the gaze. He felt as if this emerald-eyed god was looking through him, and he felt as if he were being pulled into this man's soul. He felt every inch of the man's dick in his ass, and it seemed as if this guy were stimulating every part of his asshole while he fucked him. Bill's dick was even harder than he was before, and he felt even closer to coming with each slow thrust.
Meanwhile, the salt-and-pepper haired older man stood in the corner, unmoving, staring. He said not a word and he didn't seem to be aroused by anything that was going on in the room. His icy glare seemed empty, almost as if he were concentrating beyond the scope of what was happening. He just stood there, watching.
Damien continued to run his hands along Bill's body, and his lips continued to move indiscernibly. The blood-haired swimmer continued his slow thrusts in and out of Bill's ass, while Roy stood behind the man, stroking his dick. The only sound of fucking was being made by the black man next to Bill, who was still pounding away at that hot asian ass with the same veracity of nearly half an hour ago. The boy in the sling seemed to be drunk with pleasure: one dick in his mouth, one up his ass, and two strong hands slowly caressing and stroking his body.
Slowly, the green-eyed stud started to thrust into Bill harder and faster, but still maintaining the depth of his strokes. Bill saw two ebony hands wrap around the tall man's torso, and then he saw the man grimace and stop thrusting for a minute. He leaned forward and rested his arms on top of Bill's torso, and Bill saw that Roy had begun fucking the man that was fucking him.
"Yeah, Steve, I want your hot ass, man," Roy said as he started pumping away at Steve's ass. As Roy fucked Steve, Bill could feel Steve's dick involuntarily pump in and out of his own ass. Steve's eyes never left Bill's own, and in a move that surprised Bill, Steve lowered his face to Bill's face and kissed him passionately on the lips.
Steve was no longer fucking Bill at all; the force of Roy's thrusts were doing the work for the two of them. Instead, Steve kept kissing Bill, his warm soft lips and moist tongue exploring all of Bill's mouth and neck. He even took his time and worked on Bill's nipples. While this was going on, Damien was still caressing Bill's face and whatever part of Bill's body he could get his hands on. Bill was in heaven.
Steve stopped kissing Bill and looked him dead in the eye. Roy had stopped his thrusting and pulled out of Steve's ass. He had walked next to Bill and was jacking off his dick in front of Bill's face, saying that he was about to come. Steve was still looking Bill dead in the eye, and he started his slow, deep fuck again. Bill noticed that Steve's face was now contorted with pleasure, too; apparently he, too, was ready to come. Roy and Steve's breaths began coming in shorter and shorter spurts and Bill knew they were going to shoot soon.
Seeing these two men so close to an orgasm only heightened Bill's pleasure. Once again, Damien's hands were caressing all of Bill's body and Bill could feel his balls lift as his own orgasm began. His eyes rolled up into the back as he let the sensation of Steve's dick deep in his ass and Damien's warm hands all over his body wash over him. He didn't know how they did it, but these men were blowing his mind. He felt all the muscles in his body tighten, and his mouth opened wide as he felt the first wave of his orgasm wash over him.
"Fuck, man, I'm coming again! Fuck, I'm coming! Aaaaah!" Bill shouted throughout the room. He didn't know how loud he was and he didn't care; he never had this many orgasms in such a short period of time before, and they had never been this intense.
The men fucking the boy in the sling next to Bill were also coming, as was the young asian man. It seemed like the whole room was caught up in the same, powerful orgasm. Their pleasure was heightened by knowing that every other man in the room was having an orgasm at the same time, and they seemed to share the intensity of each other's pleasure, feeding and multiplying it at the same time.
The first rope of hot cum hit Bill in the face. He felt the second and third stream of jizz land next to the first one. He was finally shooting his load, and it was the biggest load of his life. He shot four more times, each shot landing on his face and on his chest. His cum was hot, hotter than he had ever felt it before. As his orgasm died down, he felt Roy begin to shoot all over his face and chest. Roy had his hand on Bill's abs, and Bill could feel Roy's body shake as he shot three huge loads. Steve had pulled out of Bill's ass, and ripped the condom off his dick. The contraction of Bill's ass during his orgasm threw Steve over the edge. He began shooting rope after rope of hot jizz along Bill's torso. His cum wasn't as thick and creamy as Roy's was, but the heat of it was more intense. Bill fought the urge to wipe Steve's cum off his torso and suck it down his throat. Instead, he licked the remnants of his own cum off his lips. One of Roy's shots had hit him in the eyes, and Bill wiped his eyes clean to be able to see what was going on.
As he opened his eyes, he saw that the older man with the piercing ice-blue eyes was now standing behind Steve and Roy. As Bill's eyes focused, he noticed that Steve's and Roy's faces were contorted with pain. He looked at the 6'4" man and saw that his eyes no longer had irises or pupils; they just seemed to be green all over. His canine teeth were much longer than they should be, and his once black-and-white hair was now white all over.
Steve and Roy began to scream out loud, forcing the men in the other sling to turn around. They saw the muscular man bore his fingers into their backs, and there seemed to be a bright light emanating from his fingers. As Steve and Roy's screams intensified, their bodies were engulfed in flames.
Bill looked on in horror as Steve and Roy caught fire right in front of his eyes. The smell of burning flesh and the piercing screams of terror was too much for him. He wanted to get up and run, but his feet were bound in the sling. As he tried to move to get away, he felt Damien press his hands down upon his chest. He looked up and noticed that Damien's eyes were no longer the black opals they once were; now they were glowing a bright shade of green, just like the man who seemed to set Steve and Roy on fire.
Bill started screaming for help and struggling to get away. He heard Damien say something and rub his hands along Bill's torso, and Bill started to feel another orgasm building. His mind couldn't comprehend what was going on. He was terrified and he wanted to get away, yet all of sudden with some strange words from Damien, he felt as if he were going to come again.
The large man with white hair released Steve and Roy, and their charred carcasses falling to the floor. He then stabbed his fingers into Bill's body, as Bill started to come for the fourth time that night.
"No, please! Stop! What are you doing to me! Stop! Fuck, I'm coming! God, help me!" Bill screamed in pain as he felt his body begin to burn from the inside out. His life was flashing before his eyes as his mind raced to get a grip on reality. All he could do was scream as his felt his eyes begin to bleed.
"Oh, no, we're too late," a female voice said. She was standing in the room with her male companion. They had been trying to track the creature, but they were having a great amount of difficulty getting a lock on his mind. Her telepathy was not strong enough to break through his psychic shield, and by the time they had found him, they had hoped that they would be able to stop him in time.
She looked at the three men trying to break open a reinforced steel door. There was a young asian man frantically trying to get free from a sling, and there were two charred carcasses on the floor. She felt sick to her stomach as she knew she was too late.
"Elira, get these men out of here. I will deal with the creature!" Elira's eyes began to glow and suddenly the asian man was free of his constraints. She quickly ushered him to the door, and with a sharp wave of her hand, the door flew off its hinges and crashed into the wall across the hall. She was one of the most powerful telekinetic witches in the world, and she only hoped that she was strong enough. After all, she was only human... and humans couldn't manipulate the forces of earth as fast or as easily as other beings could. The only human alive who had been ever endowed with the powers of the Eternals was The Guardian, and he was nowhere near here now. She could only depend on her guardian and herself to survive this night.
She knew in her heart that she probably would not.
Damien turned his eyes to the new male that was left in the room. The female and he appeared almost instantaneously, and in the next instant after they appeared, they managed to set the four other meals free. His Lord was feeding still and he was vulnerable. Damien would have to deal with this threat on his own.
"Na'mor, did the goddess summon you here? You are too late; he already has the ones that he wants and there is no saving them. In fact, there is no saving your precious love Elira, either. You should have never brought her here."
"You will not destroy her, Damien! I won't allow it!" Na'mor brought his hands to his face and produced two balls of fire. He flung them rapidly at Damien. Damien released his hold on Bill, who was now dead, anyway, and produced a force field to block the attack.
"I will distract you long enough so that my Lord can feast upon your divine Elira. I'm sure he will love to consume all that telepathic energy she possesses."
"You will do no such thing!" Na'mor screeched, enraged. He produced a vortex of wind that blasted Damien across the steel-encased chamber and pinned him to the wall.
"By the power of the moon, I bind you! I bind you from evil! I bind you to this spot! Spirits of guardians past, hear my cry! Through the wills of the Eternals, I bind this evil!" Na'mor's eyes were a bright shade of purple, and similar color of electric purple radiated from his hands. He magically produced a scepter with a glowing crystal ball at its head. He channeled the power from his eyes into the scepter and the scepter began to glow. The crystal ball magnified his power and shot out at Damien.
Damien tried to get himself free to block the attack, but he was helplessly pinned to the wall by the force of the mighty gale. He felt the sucking power of the crystal vortex throw him to the ground. He was being sucked into the ball atop Na'mor's staff. He screamed and began to claw at the ground, a desperate attempt to avoid his fate. He was sucked into the crystal, and the negative energy contained within the crystal stripped him of all his powers, killing him.
Na'mor's anger subsided. He turned his attention to the creature, but the creature was no longer in the room. He saw the charred remains of the boy named Bill, as well as the dead bodies of two other men. There was nothing he could do for any of them; his talents did not include healing. That was a gift bestowed only on one guardian.
"Elira! Hear me! Touch my mind and lead me to you!" Na'mor called out into the sky, but there was no response. He felt sick to his stomach at the thought that he helped this creature destroy his beloved. He would have to search from room to room in order to find her, hoping to follow some sort of magical trail.
Elira was running quickly through the hallway leading up to the hotel room, a psychic map imprinted in her mind. The four naked and terrified men were right on her heels. She knew that if she survived, she was going to have a hell of time trying to alter their memories. Telepathic manipulation, especially memory alteration, was not a craft she had mastered. She was a master at telekinesis, however. She hoped that would be enough.
As the quintet made their way to the front door, Elira froze. She heard Na'mor's frantic psychic cry, and she stopped for a moment to link to him psychically. This way he would be able to teleport directly to her. She cursed herself for not doing it before they left the room, but she wasn't thinking too clearly. The adrenaline was rushing and all she thought about was getting out alive.
"Na'mor will never make it to you in time, my child," a voice called from behind her. It was as if he plucked her very thoughts from her brain. She didn't even feel anyone probing her mind.
"You thought you could hunt me? You thought you could track me? You were not the only one searching the plain for me. I knew of you and of the others, and I knew that you were coming. I was expecting you to come before I started feeding, not during my feast. Brilliant strategy, to wait until I was vulnerable. But I am not vulnerable now, and you are going to pay with your life."
"Run!" Elira screamed at the men who were standing behind her. If she was going to die, she was at least going to succeed in some part of this mission. She whirled around at the creature, bracing herself for whatever may come.
Before the men could get to the end of the hallway, the creature waved his hands and the men were suspended in midair, frozen. Their eyes could move, but they could not move any other part of their body, nor could they speak. The creature snapped his fingers and the four men were teleported back into the room, their bodies pinned against the wall.
"It's not going to be that easy, child. If you want them, you'll have to go through me."
"Na'mor, where you are you?" Elira thought to herself. He should have been able to track her psychic imprint by now.
"I told you, there is no use in searching for him. I've... altered your scent, and by the time he gets through my little ruse, he will be too late to help you. Defend yourself, child, or die where you stand."
Elira decided to take the offensive. She psychically latched onto the liquor cabinet in the corner of the living room and thrust it with all her might at the creature. He was caught by surprise as the 200-lb. cabinet, and all the liquor contained within it, came crashing down upon him.
Elira followed up the attack by producing a ball of fire between her hands. She began throwing the orbs as fast as she could at the creature. As he fled across the room, the orbs set all the furniture and the walls on fire. There was now no way out of the room as flames encircled the two fighters.
Now it was the creature's turn to attack. His arms stretched down into the ground and came up behind Elira, grabbing her from behind. She struggled violently to escape his grasp as she felt him try to pull her through the floor. She channeled all her energy into the most powerful psychic blast she could muster. She focused and reached out her mind, sending the blast directly from her mind to the creature's. He cried out in pain and released her from his grasp, as his arms returned to their normal length.
The battle continued on this way for several more minutes. It seemed as if the two of them were evenly matched, but Elira knew better. He was just testing her limits, seeing what she could do, and she had just about threw every trick she knew his way. She was getting tired, but she could tell that she had yet to begin to weaken him. Plus, the flames that engulfed the room were getting to be too strong for even her, let alone for the four men still suspended along the wall. She couldn't breathe, and she needed to get out of this room.
Elira heard the crackle of fire and turned her eyes back to the creature. As she did she saw a large orb of energy come catapulting her way. Sh threw her hands in the air defensively, catching the orb and launching it back at her attacker. That was a little trick she learned from Na'mor; he had trained her well, but not nearly well enough for this. She wasn't powerful enough, nor skilled enough to win. She needed to cast a spell in order to get out of here. She was weak, and she wasn't sure if she had enough energy to still be able to channel the forces of the earth for a spell, but she had to try.
"Spirit of the earth, hear my plea! Create a portal through time and space... allow your children to leave this place!" A strong wind began to blow as the light in the room bended to reveal a portal. Elira reached out her mind and tried to undo the magic that held the four men suspended on the wall, but she was no longer strong enough. She couldn't leave them hear at the mercy of the creature, but she was no longer strong enough to fight him, and the portal for escape would close soon.
She didn't know where the creature was, but she could sense that he was still nearby. Perhaps he was watching to see what she would do. No doubt, he would try to kill her soon. Her own safety no longer mattered. She had to find a way to free these men. She summoned the rest of the energy she had within her and started telepathically shooting the stasis field that pinned the men to the wall. She wasn't sure if she would kill them or not, but she didn't know what else to do. As each successive blast got weaker and weaker, she realized that she was powerless to free them from her foe's magic.
"Na'mor! Help me!" Elira cried out. She felt two strong hands upon her shoulders. She turned around and saw the bright, glowing eyes of the creature. He smiled sadistically at her.
"Let her go!" Na'mor shouted, magically reproducing his scepter and taking aim at the creature that held his love. "Let her go, now!"
"You have a choice, friend. You can either save her... or you can save them. Either way, I win. Which is it going to be?"
Na'mor looked at the men trapped upon the wall and looked at the woman he loved in the clutches of the most evil being he had ever encountered. He knew that he had to save these innocents, but his heart begged him to save the love of his life.
"Stuck? Well, let me choose for you," the creature said, smiling at Na'mor. He then leaned forward and bit into Elira's neck. She screamed in pain as she felt the creature begin to suck the life out of her.
Na'mor saw the creature attack and lunged towards him. He was stopped by an invisible force field and was thrown across the room. He saw the creature throw Elira into the closing portal and followed behind her. The portal closed a moment later and they were simply gone.
Once the creature was gone, his magic no longer held the men in stasis on the wall. They all fell to the ground and began coughing. Na'mor knew that they were choking to death, and he would have to get them to safety soon. His heart broke at the thought that he would not be able to save the only woman he ever loved. A slow fire burned within him, his rage consuming his heart.
This was the Guardian's fault. He allowed this evil to live. It was his fault that his precious Elira was gone. He and the creature were responsible for this. In his heart, Na'mor knew that he was responsible, too. He had failed his precious Elira.
Someone would have to pay.