The consequences of Corey’s encounter with Hari become apparent and Corey and Marcus are reunited in the aftermath.
Beads of sweat rolled down the sides of Gene’s face from his brow and dripped from his chin onto Corey’s chest. His whole body glistened with a faint sheen in the dim light streaming in through the window. Underneath him, Corey squirmed and writhed, bucking his hips to the rhythm of Gene’s thrusting.
The two had been at it for the better part of an hour, and yet release remained out of reach. Corey’s cock was straining against the filigreed gold of its cage, leaking profusely with every thrust and every moan.
A knot of tension was tightly wound in Gene’s groin. His cock throbbed and pulsed, tantalizingly close to orgasm but kept in check by an iron will. He gasped as Corey’s hole squeezed around the base of his cock, Corey’s insides fluttering around his throbbing length. He would never dream of coming without Master’s permission.
Gene’s chest rose and fell with each heavy breath he took while pounding Corey’s willing chute. He cupped the side of the hero’s face, brushing a thumb over Corey’s flushed cheek. Corey was so beautiful, like this.
Even looking as disheveled as he did, with his hair sticking out every which way, With his eyes glazed and glassy with lust and his lips parted ever so slightly as hot breath escaped him in puffs and moans, he looked beautiful. Gene could scarce resist the urge to lean down and capture Corey’s lips in his own—nor did he have any reason to.
Gene stole a kiss from Corey and savored the quiet little moan that escaped the hero as their lips locked together. He moved his one hand down from Corey’s face to Corey’s hips. With his other hand, he tightened his grip around Corey’s wrists, which he kept pinned against the bed just above Corey’s head.
"Still feeling empty, jockboy?" said Gene, slowing down to give Corey a few deliberate thrusts of his cock. Fuck. The vacant look in Corey’s eyes as he giggled and moaned with every slap of Gene’s hips against his sent a shiver down Gene’s spine.
Gene loved it. He didn’t know why, not exactly, but he did know that it wasn’t something Master had put inside him. It had been there all along, suppressed for no reason other than he’d felt uncomfortable feeling the way that he had. But there was just something so undeniably hot about seeing someone normally so clever and eloquent become as dumb as a pile of rocks.
"Well, empty in that pretty little head of yours, anyway," said Gene. He snapped his hips forward, driving his cock all the way to the hilt into Corey. "You can’t be feeling your jockpussy is empty right now, can you?"
All Corey could do was writhe and moan in response, tightening his legs around the small of Gene’s back. "More…" Corey breathed, rolling his hips as much as he could, clamping his tight little jock-hole around Gene’s cock. "Please."
There was no chance that Gene could resist such an impassioned, desperate plea. He pushed his weight down on top of Corey, practically folding the jockboy in half as he drove his cock harder and faster into the quivering, fluttering fuckhole. He grunted, catching Corey’s lips in his own as the bed creaked underneath them.
Gene had felt very little that felt better than having Corey’s taut, muscular body underneath him, writhing as he pounded that hot, velvety hole with all the strength that he could muster. The only sensation he could even remember that could surpass it was feeling Master’s cock splitting him open the first night they met.
After a few minutes, Gene pushed himself off Corey with a grunt. He had to pace himself, or else he would drive himself crazy. He’d been riding the edge for so long he felt like he was going to explode, but he wouldn’t dare even think about doing it without Master’s express permission.
"Keep your hands up," said Gene, letting go of Corey’s wrists to grab the jockboy by the hips. He’d been kneeling on the bed earlier, his knees pressed against the mattress on either side of Corey’s ass, his body wedged between Corey’s splayed legs. Tightening his grip, he heaved Corey up so that Corey’s lower back was resting on his knees, his cock still buried balls-deep inside him.
Corey looked so vulnerable, spread out like this in front of Gene, that Gene couldn’t resist playing with him a little. He released Corey’s hips and, his touch feather-light, he splayed his fingers on Corey’s heaving chest.
Gene could feel the sweat under his fingers, could smell it. The whole room smelled of sex, the air suffused with musk. Once he was sure he wasn’t going to have an "accident," Gene resumed fucking Corey, only this time he elected to take on a more… luxurious pace, sliding his cock in and out of Corey’s ass in long, deliberate strokes.
Corey sucked in a sharp breath as Gene traced his fingers along the outline of his muscles. Gene’s touch brushed tantalizingly close to his nipples. "Please…" Corey breathed, squirming under Gene’s ministrations. "Please…"
"What was that?" said Gene. He angled his hips just so. His next thrust drove his cock right into Corey’s prostate, eliciting a long, low moan from the jockboy’s parted lips. "You’re going to have to be a bit more specific than that, Corey," said Gene, with a little smirk.
A deep, shuddering breath made Corey’s body tremble as Gene pulled out of him. Corey chewed on his lower lip, his eyes wide and pleading as he looked into Gene’s. "Please, Gene, please…" he breathed, eyebrows knotting together as he struggled to put together his words. "Please play with my nipples!" he blurted out, as Gene slid his cock all the way in once again.
Gene grinned. He moved his thumbs closer to Corey’s nipples, gently rubbing around the rim of Corey’s areolas. He savored the way that Corey writhed underneath him at the teasing. "Like this, Corey?" he said.
"No," Corey whispered, pushing his chest out as much as he could as if it would help the situation. "No, no, no… Please… More, Gene. Please… More!" he begged.
Every little whimper, every whine, sent tingles of pleasure up Gene’s spine. He didn’t think he was particularly sadistic, at least not on any level near Master’s, but there was just something about the way that Corey reacted to the teasing that got him going.
"Like this, then?" said Gene, easing his thumb even closer to the hard little nub. He rolled his hips at the same time, sliding his cock into Corey with one smooth stroke as he lightly rubbed the tip of his thumb against Corey’s nipple. The strangled gasp that he managed to extract from Corey was exquisite.
"Yes… Please. More…" Corey whispered. Gene didn’t say anything. He watched Corey’s expression closely as the bliss curdled into frustration once it dawned on him that Gene wasn’t going to go any further. "No… No. Please, Gene. More. Please!"
Corey’s adorable expression was too good to resist. Maybe Gene had tortured his charge enough with the teasing. Though Master had explicitly told him that there wasn’t such a thing as too much teasing, he really wanted to see the way Corey’s face would contort with pleasure once he finally got what he wanted.
"So…" said Gene, gently rubbing the nub of Corey’s nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, "like this?" A small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as Corey mewled, eyes squeezed tightly shut, lips parted, cheeks flushed, cock twitching in its ornate golden cage. One look at his face made Gene’s cock throb.
"Still not enough?" Gene said leaning down to press his lips at the gentle valley between Corey’s pecs.
"More…" Corey begged. As Gene straightened, he had to bite his lower lip at the sight of Corey’s cobbled abs rippling with every undulation of his body as he bucked his ass onto Gene’s cock. "Please. I’ll make it feel good for you…"
Gene chuckled. Corey shouldn’t have done that. A bribe was what that was, and while he certainly appreciated the way that Corey’s insides flexed and fluttered around his cock, it wasn’t exactly wise to reward such behavior, especially coming from a dumb jockboy like Corey was.
A low, disappointed whine escaped Corey’s throat as Gene removed his fingers from his nipples altogether. The last thing Gene wanted was to put ideas in Corey’s head. He could imagine Master wouldn’t approve or take too kindly to Corey returning to the manor with the notion that sexual bribery was okay.
With a grunt, Gene moved his hands down to Corey’s hips and once again picked up the pace of his fucking. "Noo…" Corey moaned. His shoulders twitched, clearly fighting the urge to move his hands down and play with his own nipples. But the jockboy knew better than to take his pleasure into his own hands, and Gene was more than happy to help enforce Master’s rules if Corey needed reminding of them.
Not that Corey cared much about getting his nipples played with as Gene rammed his cock as hard and as deep as he could into the willing hole. Corey’s back arched off the bed as a low, delirious moan escaped him, as his body was bent almost in half by Gene’s weight on top of him.
In and out. In and out. In and out. Harder. Faster with every thrust. Corey moaned, his voice faltering every time Gene’s cock slammed into him, his toes curling against Gene’s lower back. "Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. You feel so good, Corey," Gene groaned.
As the brief rush of energy he’d felt tapered off, Gene slowed down. He was close. So close. Just a little more and he would spill, pumping his jizz deep inside Corey, but he knew better.
Gene leaned back, easing his weight off Corey as he wiped the sweat from his brow. He took a few deep breaths to settle the thundering of his heart. He’d probably fucked Corey hard enough to force the memory of bribing him for some nipple play out of his mind.
With a small grin, Gene reached for Corey’s nipples and pinched them hard. Corey’s eyes flew open, and his back lifted off the bed as a strangled yelp escaped him. Gene moaned as Corey’s hole clamped around the base of his dick. It felt so good.
Just as he was about to resume fucking Corey, Gene heard the simultaneous pings of his and Corey’s phones. His was in the pile of clothes by the foot of the bed, so he opted to pick up Corey’s phone from the nightstand where he’d placed it.
The notification was for a single text message, but it was the byline that caught Gene’s attention. The message was from N3M0, and if it had been sent to both of them at the same time, he could only imagine it was quite important.
Gene tapped the polyglass to read the message and blanched. Fingers shaking, he set the phone back down on the nightstand. The contents of the message had been enough to quench his arousal. His softening cock slipped out of Corey’s ass with a quiet pop. "Corey is poisoned. Take him to the manor immediately," the message had said.
Heart racing, Gene snapped his fingers three times in front of Corey’s face and spoke the emergency trigger words that Master had implanted for just such an occasion. "Little thundercloud, little thundercloud, it’s time to wake up."
Gene grabbed his clothes from the foot of the bed as ice-cold clarity washed over Corey. "W-What?" mumbled Corey, shaking his head and blinking. Gene could only imagine how disorientating it was to be pulled out of trance so abruptly. "What’s going on?" Corey muttered as he sat up.
"You’re poisoned," said Gene. He already had his shirt halfway on. "I don’t know how, but N3M0 sent the message. I need to get you to the manor right away."
"Ugh…" Corey said. He propped himself up with his elbows on the bed. He looked down, feeling a tightness in his chest. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go back. He was… scared of what would happen if he did. "I feel fine… I probably don’t need to go."
Gene grabbed Corey by the wrist, his grip tight enough that Corey looked up into his eyes. "I don’t care," he said. "I’m not going to risk it."
By the time that he’d finished dressing up, Corey was sweating profusely. He had to steady himself against the wall as he and Gene made their way out of the student residences. His head was spinning and he could feel bile in the back of his throat. "Ugh… I’m gonna be sick…" he groaned.
Gene, displaying a surprising amount of strength, wrapped one arm around Corey’s waist and used the other to drape Corey over his shoulders.
"I know, buddy, I know," said Gene. Corey knew the poor thing was trying, but he could hear the tinge of panic in Gene’s voice and it wasn’t helping. "Try not to hurl right now, okay? We’re almost there."
There was a chance they’d bump into someone out late if they took the elevator, but Corey was in no shape to take the stairs. They didn’t encounter anyone on the way but the trip down to the lobby was tense.
It was late enough at night that no one was lingering in the common area out in front of the residence. Corey and Gene managed to get out without much trouble.
The fresh air Corey had been hoping would help his nausea, didn’t. He had to stop for breath and heaved dryly over the handrail of the steps leading down to the sidewalk.
A contragrav car was idling right in front of the building. The passenger side window was rolled down and a man Corey recognized to be Psyphon was leaning out. "Quickly," he said, motioning toward Gene and Corey.
By the time they reached the car, all the strength had deserted Corey’s legs. When the back seat door opened, Castor’s head poked out, concern written across his face. Wordlessly, he helped Gene bundle Corey into the car.
As soon as Corey was buckled in, the floor of the vehicle vibrated. They rose vertically into the air before Pollux stepped on the accelerator.
Psyphon twisted in his seat and leaned toward the back. The atmosphere in the car was tense, and Corey couldn’t help but feel nervous. "Take my hand," said Psyphon.
Corey didn’t have the energy to reach up for the hand that Psyphon was offering. Gene was the first to notice, so he did the only reasonable thing and grabbed Corey’s wrist to put it in Psyphon’s hand.
"Jesus Christ, you’re worse off than I thought," muttered Psyphon.
A strange, slightly warm energy flowed into Corey through his hand. He could see threads of faint red light working their way into his body, shining through his skin.
The effect was immediate. Even though Corey’s energy didn’t return, the tightness in his chest was somewhat loosened, and the nausea was diminished. He still felt like shit, but at least he felt less like shit.
"There. That should help for a little while," said Psyphon.
"What was that?" said Gene, putting his hand in Corey’s and giving it a gentle squeeze.
"A touch of regeneration," said Psyphon. "It should slow down the internal damage but it won’t be enough."
"How could this happen?" said Castor, his voice trembling.
Corey wanted to say something, to reassure his friends that he’d be fine, but nothing escaped him save for a weak croak.
"Unforeseen circumstances," said Psyphon. There was a bitter note in his voice. "Corey got involved in something he shouldn’t have, but none of us could have known."
Gene shook his head and squeezed Corey’s hand even tighter. "Why wouldn’t the regeneration be enough?" he said.
"Magic," said Pollux, before Psyphon could respond.
"Well, to be precise, it’s a magical poison-curse two-in-one that was designed to kill even a regenerator," said Psyphon.
Corey’s heart hammered in his chest. He was afraid but at least he was being taken somewhere he knew he would be safe. He was confident that Marcus would find a way to save him if Marcus didn’t already know of it.
"Is there anything else we could do?" said Gene.
Psyphon was quiet for a moment. He held his hand out again. "This is esper-killing magic we’re talking about here. Thwarting it won’t be simple. But we can give ourselves some time."
"I’ll do anything," said Gene, placing his hand in Psyphon’s.
"Alright. Here goes nothing," said Psyphon.
Gene shivered and closed his eyes, but nothing seemed to change outwardly. When he opened his eyes again, his irises had turned the color of ice. "Oh. Wow. This is…"
"Yeah. From good ol’ Boreas himself," said Psyphon. "It should slow things down even more."
Corey had a guess what the power Psyphon had given Gene could do. He felt his body temperature dropping precipitously. His thoughts were getting sluggish and sleepy, but not in the same pleasant way as falling into trance.
The colder he got, the less Corey wanted to move, and the less he worried about what was going to happen to him. As his body chilled thanks to the power Gene had borrowed from Psyphon, the feeling of Gene’s lips pressed against his cheek seemed almost searing hot.
"Sleep, for now, Corey," said Gene. "We’ll get you out of this."
Heat was the very first thing that Corey became aware of when he woke up. It was intense, searing, almost painful. It coursed through his body, following his veins, winding slowly around him like a dragon’s breath.
Corey cracked his eyes open. The first sight that greeted him was of a familiar black ceiling, though there was a strange smell in the air that he couldn’t quite put a finger on. The tension in his shoulders loosened as he realized where he was.
His nakedness didn’t faze Corey in the slightest. If anything, his lack of clothing helped to settle his nerves. The many sessions he’d spent in Marcus’ dungeon had instilled a certain sort of conditioning in him and he couldn’t help but slip into a more docile, submissive state.
"You’re awake. That’s good."
Corey smiled. He turned his head to either side, trying to find the source of the voice. He didn’t fret too much when he couldn’t. It wasn’t unusual for him to hear Marcus’ voice without seeing the man himself during one of their sessions.
"Master…" Corey murmured, surprised at how weak he sounded.
It wasn’t until Corey tried to push himself up into a sitting position that he realized he wasn’t actually lying down on anything. He was suspended in mid-air, hovering on his back.
"How are you feeling?" said Marcus, stepping into Corey’s field of view.
In the months that Corey had known Marcus, he’d come to realize that on top of being the most devious supervillain in the Commonwealth, Marcus also shouldered a lot of miscellaneous work. In all that time, he’d never seen Marcus look as tired as he did now.
"Like I’ve been run over by a truck, Master," Corey murmured. He tried to laugh but it came out as more of a cough. "How about you, Master? You look tired…"
A small smile tugged at the corner of Marcus’ lips as he reached up to stroke the side of Corey’s face. "That’s just the age showing, my little thundercloud," he said.
For someone that did it for a living, Marcus was a pretty terrible liar. Then again, he wasn’t trying. "Hmph. If you say so, Master," said Corey.
Marcus chuckled. It was a little thing, but Corey was glad to see some of the stress written so clearly on Marcus’ face disappear. At least for a little while, he was satisfied with just indulging in Marcus’ gentle touch.
A frisson of pain wracked through Corey’s body as the heat inside of him doubled in intensity. It felt as if a wave of molten lava was creeping through his veins. The worst of it was in his back, near his spine, and breathing only made it worse.
Corey squeezed tightly as he felt Marcus’ fingers slide into his hand. The pain was receding, but at a snail’s pace. Sweat beaded all over his body, trickling across his skin and dripping off his naked form.
It wasn’t until he heard the quiet hiss of his sweat evaporating as it fell that Corey realized he was suspended over some sort of heat source. It certainly explained why his back felt hotter than his front and helped him identify the scent that had been bothering him since he woke up.
There was smoke in the air. In all likelihood, Corey was being levitated over a bed of charcoal since the room wasn’t choking with smoke despite the lack of ventilation. What he couldn’t figure out was why.
"Are you comfortable, little thundercloud?" said Marcus, after a few minutes.
Corey nodded. "All things considered, Master," he said, with a quiet laugh. He’d tried turning over, earlier, but hadn’t had the strength. Now, he wasn’t so sure he wanted to get a face-full of burning charcoal, however high above it he was suspended.
"Curious?" said Marcus.
Who wouldn’t be? thought Corey, but he didn’t say it out loud because it was a bit too impertinent. "A little bit, Master," he said.
Marcus raised a polyglass slate into Corey’s field of view. He made a few gestures on the surface and it came to light, displaying a video feed of Corey’s situation from another perspective.
Corey already knew that he was floating pretty high up because Marcus had to reach up to touch him. He hadn’t realized just how high up he was.
The bed of charcoal under Corey was itself resting on a stone block about two feet high. He was levitating another four feet or so above that. Unsurprisingly, the charcoal bed was the least absurd thing in the room.
Surrounding the block that the charcoal bed was placed on was a magical tetragram. That was to say, a magical circle with four focal points that, Corey assumed, stood at the four cardinal directions. He wasn’t too clear on the finer points of magic, though, so he couldn’t say for sure.
The circle itself was made of what appeared to be gold dust, and it seemed to shimmer and undulate like a living thing. Placed in the center of four smaller circles at each of the focal points were certain substances that Corey couldn’t name.
"Since it’s a magical affliction that you have, we’re using magic to purge it out of you," said Marcus. He laughed as he squeezed Corey’s hand. "Pretty expensive magic," he continued.
"I’m sorry," said Corey.
"Whatever for?" said Marcus, tilting his head. "It’s not your fault you were poisoned."
"No, I know." Corey sighed. He did, on some level, feel a little guilty. He didn’t doubt that Marcus had spent an exorbitant amount of money to save him, but he knew he was the victim, here. "I’m sorry for not coming back sooner…"
Marcus smiled. "I always knew that when you donned the mantle of Godspark that you would need some time away to yourself. I might not have expected it to happen so soon but, all the same, I won’t hold it against you," he said.
Corey squeezed Marcus’ hand. "I’m glad, Master," he said. After a few moments, he added, "I missed you."
"And I, you. But we can discuss how you are to make it up to me when you are better," said Marcus.