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The Gamer Chapter 1766 – A Vulgar Display of Confidence
🕑 Added 2024-10-21 07:14:36 +0000 UTC
Finding time to spend with Lydia was often difficult. Differences in time zones and duties made it difficult to coordinate things. The teleportation options John had given her, both the pad and the relatively new Perk that let her teleport over to the Palace and then back to where she had originally come from, alleviated much of these issues. They did, however, remain issues.
Sometimes, the only way to make things work was to visit her.
Sometimes, she wanted the edge taken off.
“Ah! Ah! Ah! AHhhh, yes!” The queen’s sharp moans bounced around the walls of her office. The Enlightenment era architecture of the room was a splendid showcase of all the beauty that had been in that era. The ornate fireplace, the red armchairs, the decorative plaster, and the big desk that Lydia was currently bent over. “Keep---- YES!”
John gave her round ass a nice smack, just as the orgasmic spasms started. Pain was not one of Lydia’s vices, but John had yet to pound a woman that did not enjoy at least a little bit of spanking. The tight ring of her sphincter clenched around his cock, while he lowered his pace to a gentle reminder that there was more to come.
“Use me, my love,” the copper-haired woman groaned.
Taking that permission, John grabbed her by the waist and began to pound her hard. It took less than half a minute to bring her to another hard orgasm. Pussy juices squirted from her cunt, while he hammered her backdoor. The view from behind was as erotically obscene as ever, her asshole widely stretched to take in his girth.
Lydia’s hands grabbed the edge of the table opposite of where her thighs met the wood. Her knuckles went wide. Multi-orgasmic, high-pitched cries escaped her every time he made her ass ripple with his thrusts. She remained in that state for only a few minutes. John was pounding her hard with the intent to release quickly.
“Wait!” she cried when he was just about ready to release.
John did so, despite the protesting grunt that escaped him. Taking a half step back, he pulled out of her, giving her the room to quickly turn around and grab his impatiently twitching cock with both hands. Stroking him rapidly, she pushed him over the edge.
John’s load was tenfold of an average man’s orgasm. It was easy to forget when he dumped all of his thick seed deep inside his women. Spraying the long ropes all over the queen’s features illustrated the point much better.
White soaked into the base of Lydia’s hair, covered her from forehead to chin, and landed on her outstretched tongue. The final few spurts even covered her chest.
John let her stroke as much of his seed out of him as she desired. “You usually do not enjoy the mess,” he commented and reached into his inventory to withdraw one of the steamed towels. Its pleasant heat and softness made cleaning his cock with it a quick and gentle affair. He handed it to Lydia after – who only wiped off her hands. “Now what are you planning?”
“A vulgar display of confidence,” Lydia stated and got up. John’s elemental senses picked up the moving of metal behind the walls. Then, there was movement. “Sit over there, my love. Speak only if I prompt you to.”
John decided to go with it and walked over to the chosen armchair. ‘I remember when this was velvet,’ he thought to himself. Very shortly after his stays in Lydia’s main residence had become an expected occurrence, every regularly used surface had to be replaced with something easily wiped. To spare the local servants the icky task, Aclysia often came through afterwards to clean up their mess and to make Lydia some of her preferred tea. It was October now. Things were getting cold in the northern hemisphere.
Barely had he gotten seated that Lydia chose him as her seat. The act hardly surprised John. He was only curious about what would happen next.
The door to the office opened loudly. Harsh footfalls accompanied the rapid entrance of the visitor. A bald man of partial Arabic descent spotted the queen. His annoyed expression turned blank with surprise for a second, then thunderous with anger. “First you make me wait and listen to your howling and then you do not even have the decency to clean yourself?!”
“And what will you do about it, Lord Africanus?” The queen did not even look at the man as she posed the question. Her attention was instead with a ring that hovered from her desk over towards her. It was a band as dark as wrought iron, white images of oaks and eagles carved into it. The engagement ring of the Gamer’s second fiancée settled back on her ring finger fluidly.
“It is improper!” Africanus declared.
“Perhaps, but what does it matter to me?” The cum-coated royal put an arm around her man, careful not to get any of his seed on him. “You have been spreading the rumour that I am the whore of Berlin anyhow. How many men did you insinuate have their way with me every night?”
John’s investment in the situation shifted drastically from mild amusement to contempt. He had not liked Africanus before today. Their interactions were limited and so he only had a reputation to go on. Africanus was powerful, governing the holdings of the Greater Empire along the Mediterranean coast. While that territory had shrunk over the millennia, it still contained Tripoli and coastal Egypt. More importantly, he was a staunch traditionalist. Staunch to the point that John wanted to slap him with a wholly new political label. A stagnatist, dedicated to society just existing in the same state in perpetuity.
Naturally that disposition and position of power made him one of the faces of the broader movement that stood against Lydia’s reforms. Several duels, verbal and physical, had been fought between the two. Lydia had emerged the victor every time and every time the humbled traditionalists were forced to cede ground to her.
Fundamentally, John only got involved in that when Lydia asked him to. This was her theatre to play in. ‘If someone is spreading rumours about my Lydia being a slut, that’s my issue.’ He glanced at Lydia and remembered the promise not to talk unprompted. ‘I suppose I will be the prop to make her look more impressive.’
Africanus just glared at Lydia, who slowly put one leg over the other. The man could not help himself, he did stare. The naked queen would have put supermodels to shame with her genuine beauty and balanced physique. “I have heard as many as five,” she said.
“Your honoured grandfather famously called out the three whores of Europe, why shouldn’t I be allowed the sa-“ Africanus stopped when he was hit by a wave of John’s annoyance.
Lydia gently caressed his chin, making his emotional aura settle down. “Forgive him, my love, he is of lesser intellect. We must live with our enemies, do we not?”
“As long as they know their boundaries,” John growled.
“As long as they know their boundaries,” Lydia echoed. A face like moulded steel, the Queen of Mithril rose to her feet and crossed the distance between herself and Africanus. It was only during that walk that she cleaned herself off the sticky mess of her fiancé’s seed. The towel was cast aside afterwards. “I will state it simply, Africanus, that I tire of your cheap shots against me and mine. You will publicly apologize for the rumours you have spread and that will be the last I hear of you in my life.”
Defiantly, Africanus stared at her. Wearing shoes, the slightly shorter man was of equal height to Lydia. “And what will you do about it, whore?”
Africanus flew across the room, his body bent around the aftermath of the fist that had slammed into his stomach. Before he could crash into any of the furniture, metal pieces loosened from the furniture all around. They formed a wall that painfully caught the man. Individual pieces wrapped around his limbs, stretching arms and legs out.
“Do you believe yourself capable of challenging me, margrave of the empire?”
“You a-“
“Do not interrupt me!” Lydia chastised the man, another strip of steel already wrapping around his face to muzzle him.
Through his lenses, John saw the bald man attempt to cast possession on the many pieces of metal around him. All the spells fizzled in unison. Pulling his eyebrows together, Africanus focused his power only on that muzzling strip. The dedicated spell broke against Lydia’s magic all the same. The anger slowly shifted into fear.
“I see the realization is finally beginning to seep into your skull.” Lydia raised an open hand. She clenched it into a fist. In an instant, all of the metal binding Africanus snapped together, constricting him into a package that would have nicely fit into a casket. “John, by your Gaia-granted measurements, what level was I when you gifted me Strimata?”
“Around level 250,” John reported. That point of time of note because her birthday had been shortly before the most public duel with Africanus.
“And what level am I now?” Lydia asked, already knowing the answer.
“701,” John provided the answer.
Africanus screamed, from surprise or because Lydia tightened the bindings around him even further. “You hold your rank because of your martial prowess,” the naked queen spoke with the certainty of iron. “I will not downplay your accomplishments. Unlike you, I have no need to engage in falsehoods to underline my point. With you I share a concept so simple that even you shall understand it.”
The bindings shifted, folding the man together where he hovered. Knees to his chest, wrists next to ankles, he was a bundle so tight not even Eliana would have enjoyed it. Lydia folded her arms behind her back. Africanus was made to hover up to her, kept from a hurtful fall only by the metal mage’s power.
“I am closer to Romulus now than I am to you.” The statement made Africanus’ eyes bulge. Like most of his faction, his beliefs were centred around the supremacy of the Apex. Challenging that authority was the button to press. “Rage at that all you want, but do notice the bigger picture.” Lydia sighed and shoved the man into a nearby chair. “I can end you like this.”
Lydia snapped her fingers.
The metal bindings squeezed tighter.
Then they all loosened.
Africanus inhaled sharply. Now that his chest was no longer restricted, his lungs could fill to their full capacity. All of the pieces of metal returned to their original shape and their hidden spaces within the apartment.
“You’re lying,” Africanus growled.
Lydia, who had started to walk back to John, stopped, her back turned towards the man. “Be very careful what leaves your mouth next.”
“You’re just using the Gamer to make you look more powerful than you really are!” Africanus stated. “If it weren’t for him, then you would just be a weak queen! You would know your place.”
“You’re right about one thing and dreadfully wrong about the other.” Lydia turned to face the man again. Despite her nudity, her posture gave her the dignity of a queen. “When does power belong to a person?”
“When it cannot be taken away,” Africanus declared.
“Then power does not exist.” The queen’s deep grey eyes held only deep disappointment. “I can cut off your limbs at this very moment. I can cripple you forever with the ease of a thought.” A piece of metal whistled past Africanus quicker than he could see. He turned pale. “No ruler would have power either. All armies are made up of individuals that may refuse the call. My love, what do you reckon would be an adequate definition of power?”
“Difficult,” John said first. “Power is a very broad concept… Perhaps the best definition would be: ‘a force, be it based on physical prowess or authority, that can be reliably summoned and directed’?”
“A mouthful, but I believe that serves well enough. Would you agree, idiot?” Africanus’ eye twitched at the insult, but he nodded all the same. “Then the power I have from John is my own. You are, however, accurate in saying that I am using him to gain it. I will dignify that much.” The Gamer’s second fiancée gave him a short-lived smile. “I believe our arrangements on this matter are to the satisfaction of both parties.”
“How convenient for y-“
“Where you are dreadfully wrong!” Lydia’s voice filled the room like the reverberation of a hammer striking a bell. “Is your belief that it is my power that gives me my will.” She walks forwards. “From my weakest moments as heiress-apparent to the day before I was granted this might, I have always done what was required in service of my goals. It is my will that opened the road to power, not the other way around – and know that my iron will is now dedicated to eliminating you as a factor in my life, Lord Africanus.” Her irises were almost as black as her ring now. “Tell all that you wish about it and know that I will always confess to this threat: the next time you stand in my way or lie about me or mine, I will see you undone. There will be no great diminishment of your name or a deliberate effort to take your power from you – I will actually just kill you.”
Africanus opened his mouth, perhaps to say something more that was unwise. The words got stuck in his throat. There must have been a part inside the warrior that still remembered fear. “…I will… take my leave,” he choked out and headed for the door.
Closing it with her magic, Lydia made sure it hit him on the way out.
“An unusually strong handed approach to domestic politics,” John commented while Lydia sat down on an armchair opposite of him.
“I rarely take advantage of the right to feud. Its effectiveness cannot be denied,” Lydia stated. Her eyes gradually lightened to a blueish shade of grey. “Certain conditions must be met before such an approach is viable. Africanus has been overstepping the boundaries repeatedly, even within his own faction. My threat to end him will cause him to seek out what allies he has. He will find few willing to die to defend him. If he is smart, he will realize that they will be inadequate and remove himself from the European theatre until my mood improves.”
“If he is not?”
“I make no empty threats, my love. You ought to know this. I will skewer his heart with Strimata, then send his intact corpse to his estate. That is all of my time and effort he is worth.”
“I won’t lie, I wish I could just do this with my political opponents,” he sighed.
“All that have to deal with idiotic opposition wish to see it cut down. Such a tool is best swung with care.”
“And like all tools it should still be considered,” John finished her thought.
“Little as it pleases our mundane, modern sensibilities, there is a time and place for violent takeovers and suppression.” Lydia waved off. “We have conversed on this many times before, I do not believe we will discover disagreements now.”
John stretched in his chair. Chatting with Lydia like this was a deeply relaxing matter for him. She understood his life better than most, even among his harem, and there were few topics between them that they could not have an amicable talk about. “A change in topic, then. Do you have any teachers of metal magic available? Ones that are tight-lipped?”
“An interesting question, may I inquire about its motivations?”
“Are the sound blocking enchantments back up?” John asked.
“They have been since Africanus entered.”
“Do you remember Fianna?”
Lydia nodded. “Your scout. She lost her arms during the recent affair. I heard it was a lucky outcome?”
“Had it not been for the regular healing, she would have lost her legs as well, at a minimum,” John answered. “In any case, she has replaced them with prosthetics. She has expressed a wish to try and wield them to their capability. After a few tests, we have found that she has no aptitude for electricity magic, but some in the realm of metal.”
“Be more precise, my love. How much is some?”
“Not much,” John admitted. “She remains a sniper, first and foremost. Her Innate Ability is to greatly increase her eyesight. It seems to be in the Life domain, with a slight leaning towards Earth, which helps her with metal magic.”
“In that case, I have no teacher, tight-lipped or otherwise, that would be of much help to her,” Lydia reported. “Rex Germaniae’s magic focuses on elevating those with potent elemental Innate Abilities. Even if I found a teacher that was willing to teach her, their lessons would demand a floor that she does not have. It would progress slowly. You ought to ask Lu Zhi about this instead.”
“Really?” the Gamer asked. “Why is that?” Lydia laughed. “What is so funny?”
“I was reminded of the past and the many questions you had because Jane is awful at explanations, not to mention uninformed.” She smiled nostalgically. “It is a rare treat that I serve as your guide in the Abyss again.”
“Then guide me, Princess of Steel,” John humbly requested.
Mimicking the harsh tone of their early days, Lydia said, “I spare you 5 minutes for this explanation, Gamer.”
Comments
Christian Krueger
i can't wait for the outcome of this ploy.
icequeen52
Okay that was satisfying as heck
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