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The Gamer Chapter 1659 – Days until the Wedding 8 – Three Different Women
🕑 Added 2024-04-05 06:40:29 +0000 UTC
It occurred to John that he may have sat among three of his haremettes that were the most different from each other.
Aclysia, with all of her grace and all of her hidden craziness, kneaded the muscles of his shoulders. Metra, raging openly at the Dark Souls boss, drummed her heels on the floor. Siena, laughing at her torment, sat on the other side of John.
They had plenty in common. Each was devoted to him, in their own ways. Each was a proud warrior, even if many would have called Siena’s methods underhanded and Aclysia’s methods uncomfortably brutal. Each was gorgeous, tall, and athletic.
In terms of total dichotomy, John had a vast array of better choices for pairs of two. Lorelei and Rave, for example, were antithetical to each other in a vast number of ways. Eliana and Siena were another obvious pair. Undine and Sylph, more so even than Undine and Salamander, made for a stark contrast.
In terms of a trio of three, though, Aclysia, Siena, and Metra were probably as far from each other as was possible for a group of three in his harem to get. They had their overlaps, but they were utterly different people with different interests. Yet, they got along splendidly.
“How was the cabinet meeting, Master?” Aclysia asked.
John felt his shoulders stiffen again at the question. Muscles that had been kneaded into a putty now had a core of hardness in them again. Immediately, there was a wave of irritation that washed through the room physically, followed by a wave that nearly crashed into John’s mind, before Aclysia managed to regain her composure. Like blackened ichor, the annoyance stirred, viscous, under the surface of her graceful soul.
“Who are we going to kill?” Metra asked. She was only half-joking.
“No one,” John waved off, then went into the lengthy explanation that was expected of him. He did it to dissuade them and because Aclysia just liked hearing his voice. “Emrik stirred the pot somewhat.”
Siena grabbed a pen and paper and scribbled down. “Emrik… who else?”
“Very funny,” John remarked drily. From Siena, it actually was a joke. Metra was still of the mind that political opposition that got a bit too uppity should be culled. For all of the sins that Siena animated him to commit (more) to, the shadow spirit did not advocate for wanton murder. She had thoroughly learned her lessons on that front. “We’re not killing ministers,” he repeated to Metra.
“I’m not honestly advocating for it until I hear more,” the First of Wrath assured.
“What inconveniences you, Master?” Aclysia urged him to continue.
The Gamer groaned at the recollection of the meeting. “To put it simply, about a third of the ministers banded together to issue a formal protest against my decision to leave. They will comply, but want to make it known that they are in deep disagreement and personal disgruntlement. The unpredictable flip-flopping between me being available and unavailable is making it difficult for them to plan what projects to start with and what strategies they can pursue.”
“And?” Metra shrugged. “Let them protest. They’re your ministers and a third isn’t that much.”
“A third was outspoken, you never know who is a quiet sympathizer for a movement that is already this large. More importantly, they had with them a writ that had the signatures of many people in positions of power outside of the cabinet. Ahanu was one of them.”
“Ahanu, really?” Siena asked, an eyebrow raised. “I know him and Emrik are entangled, but I considered him more loyal than that.”
“Loyalty includes telling those you care about when they overstep.” John practically cited the letter in that moment. It was a sentiment he agreed with. “Besides, from the Hidden Tradition’s perspective, a continuous outwards view is unhealthy. They joined Fusion early on to prevent war on the continent and to help unify the area. We’ve now reached a stage where we have cleared those conditions. Likely, they want to favour a defensive approach. Beyond that, our assassination of Mengele has made much of the elite upset with me.”
By now, rumours of Mengele’s death had made it to the broader public. Confirmation from the Purest Front was still not out. With how secretive the guild was at the best of times, them telling the world that their leader and founder was dead was mere formality. Enough disparate sources had speculated on the matter and various world leaders behaved as if it was the case.
The public responded to the development largely with apathy. John’s poll numbers had dropped slightly due to the events, many of the more isolationist or wary elements of Fusion taking a predictably cautious stance towards anything that could lead to war with a great power. John would recuperate those numbers in due time.
The elite, however, was in an uproar about this – on all sides. The Revealers, Supernatural People Party, Fusion Libertarian, Project Shield, Economists Party, Stream Party, Centralists, Individualists, and Lake Party all were disapproving to some degree. The reason was nearly universally a perceived recklessness on John’s part. He couldn’t exactly say they were wrong, the Gamer had been gambling when it came to the Purest Front’s reaction about all of this.
He enjoyed the support of the Crowning and Wrath Party. The monarchists and the military expansionists were approving of his actions and of anything that put Fusion on the map. Unlike the public, which was not organized enough to draw the certain conclusion that John had done it, the political elite was and did. Everyone was certain he did it and for good reason.
“Sargon had to deal with anklebiters like this,” Metra stated. “The ambitionless curs that follow a nation’s ascent, then weigh it down like a millstone when they have gotten all that they want out of it.”
“I don’t think having cautious elements is unwise,” John pushed back. “It’s easy to advocate for the expansion of the realm from our position.”
“You’re thinking like a mundane person again.” Siena checked her already flawlessly clean nails. “Mundane wars have politicians advocating for the opening of battlefields they will never see. We bleed for these conquests. We built this Federation. We sliced our enemies to ribbons. It is our prerogative where to aim our power, not theirs.”
“There’s a reason why the Abyss is organized into guilds, not nations – even if you and others sometimes call it such,” Metra added. “There are people, like you, whose ability to build far exceeds the limits of others. What will their protests achieve? Even if all of the elites got their collective balls together and managed to turn the entire military against you, what the fuck are they going to do?”
“They’re Abyssals; if things worked like this, then they would know better than to launch a letter of protest.”
“They launch a letter of protest because that’s the medium you listen to,” Metra retorted. “Because you made this system in the image of a mundane system, because you still think like a non-magical person, because you let them get away with it. You think Romulus responds to protests like this? That Lu Zhi does? When they get letters like this, it’s not a protest, it is a gentle request for reconsideration.”
“And is that better? When everyone around is afraid of responses to their complaints?”
Metra gave John a long stare. “You still don’t understand.” She sighed and brushed through the hair of her tail. “People can be honest to their liege while respecting them.”
“You think I’m not respected?” The Gamer was almost growling those words, feeling his pride claw away at his reasonability.
“You’re letting people change the trajectory of Fusion. They’re making your project theirs, and when you violate their designs, they will lose respect for you.” Metra stared directly into his eyes. There was no mirth to be found anywhere in them. “I said it before and I’ll say it again: I do not need to convince you that I am right. Reality will assert itself in time.”
John chewed the inside of his cheek, then let out a long sigh. “Why do we keep having these talks,” he grumbled and fell back onto the sofa. He hadn’t even realized that he had slowly gotten more and more rigid.
Aclysia had the answer for him, “Because this matter will always remain close to your heart, Master – as it is to Metra’s.”
The obvious truth and one John readily accepted. He would have preferred not having Metra push back when he vented on this and, to her credit, most of the times she didn’t. It would have been unfair of him to ask her to never voice her core beliefs though and, much like the ministers, she also had a point. Had John asserted total control over Fusion and reminded people more frequently that everyone was where they were because of his decisions, then the tone of the interactions would certainly have changed in a way more agreeable to his pride. That came with its own set of issues though.
There were no solutions, only trade-offs. The perfect system did not and would never exist.
“How did the meeting go beyond that?” Aclysia asked.
John let the maid return the task of kneading his shoulders and summarized. “Smooth sailing from there, really. I made a little speech to dispel as much of the fears as I could and it worked well enough to make them compliant. Arrangements were made and our trip to Yucatan has been cleared as far as that end of affairs goes.”
“They know to leave well enough alone then,” Metra hummed. A short break ensued. “Did I use the wrong tone there?”
John shook his head. “You said what you wanted to say, it’s fine. I love you too much to be offended by you getting a little snippy.” He shot her a lewd grin. “You can repay me though.”
Metra smirked back, then bowed down to flirt with his prominent erection. They were in their apartment and, of course, all of them were naked. That there had been no sexual entanglements so far was owed mostly to John usually not wanting his date hours, even if they were as casual as this, to be taken up by this.
Today, however, he was stressed and the wolf-eared berserker whispering, “President or king, you are my Master,” before licking up the side of his cock was a balm for his soul.
“Our plan to visit Yucatan is fully unperturbed, then?” Siena asked.
“That is what I said.”
“It does not hurt to be certain.” The midnight elemental snuggled up to him. Large breasts squished against his chest, making his cock twitch inside Metra’s hot mouth. A reaction that continued to occur when the sadistic woman of his harem found his tongue with her own. Sharp canines playfully bit his lower lip.
The lewdness did not escalate from there. Metra venerated his cock with slow bobs, letting it pop free when Siena had sunk to her level to take over. The double blowjob was casual, by harem standards. Yes, he was sucked into the depths of Siena’s delightfully tight, hellishly pleasurable throat, but that was scarcely a challenge for her. The two women swapped his cock back and forth, occasionally kissing with the glans between their full lips.
Aclysia transitioned to presenting John bits of cheese on her salver. He eagerly took every bite that she presented on a toothpick. The scent was quite strong, the taste even stronger. The sharpness of aged cheese mixed with faint sweetness and, well, cheesiness. “This is really good,” John commented. “New brand?”
“Our very own produce, Master,” Aclysia revealed, her voice beaming with pride. “Claire and I have been working with the milk that we got from the animals we are keeping on our Oklahoman property. This cheese has been matured with your exact taste preferences in mind.”
John groaned in delight. It was no steak, but the bits of cheese certainly hit the spot. Personalized cheese presented by a maid and a double blowjob – what more could a man want?
The last vestiges of stress melted away and his mind turned to… nothing for a moment. His lust reached the pinnacle and his seed messily pumped into the two mouths that were competitively kissing for the top spot. Much of his load landed on their faces, more ran down the shaft, their tongues too busy wrestling to lap it all up. A fact that they fixed swiftly thereafter.
They cleaned themselves and each other, among the moans that tasting his seed caused, then moved to the bath on motion of John. There, he had the focus shift from himself to Metra and Siena. The two were made to lay on loungers and be on the receiving end of massaging attention from John and his first maid. It didn’t take much convincing.
John was working Metra’s back. The sculpted strings of artificial musculature covered her metal bones. “I do love athletic women,” he thought out loud, tracing the contours of her back with every rub and every knead.
“I noticed,” Metra purred.
“Why would you not?” Siena answered. “We do look the best.”
“You are drop-dead gorgeous, absolutely,” John agreed and watched as Aclysia squirted some fresh oil over the blue-skinned woman’s back. A little smile played around both of their lips. Siena rolled onto her back and, without hesitation, Aclysia began to massage the woman’s breasts instead. Before things could heat up, Siena was back on her stomach.
“What’s next for us, Master?” Aclysia suddenly asked.
“What do you mean?”
The head maid glanced at him for a moment, seeking his eyes for no other reason than to express her love through more than words and mental entanglement. “The earlier talk made me ponder. We have reached the pinnacle of what a guild can accomplish. Every day brings us closer to the zenith of your power. We work day by day for the good of this realm and its people. What is next for us?” Aclysia’s thumbs traced up Siena’s spine. “What are we aiming for next? There are plenty of projects that you still wish to see through. The liberation of Japan, the eradication of the Lorylim, this upcoming Yucatan exploration, we are not short of work to do, but what are we aiming for? What is the ultimate goal of our engagements?”
There was no pondering silence to her question, because it was one John already had the answer to.
“I want to help.”
The four words made the three women in the room direct their two eyes onto him with one emotion shared between them: adoration. The sincerity of his words made them all stop. Metra and Siena sat up to listen to him.
“We’ve made it long past the place where we had to struggle to survive and at this point we’ve built a foundation that will survive generations, as long as we ward off the worst attacks that can happen. If there’s anything I want to do with all of this power, then it is simply to help. I don’t know what form that will take or how much I want to meddle with people to help. I don’t want to be overbearing, but I don’t want to be absent either.” John showed them all his most sincere smile. “I still aim for us to be free of the requirement of running the state. I want us to be free, to enjoy each other’s company, to raise the little ones, and to help. We’ll never be without work and never be without purpose.”
“Master,” Aclysia swooned.
“You’re the sovereign,” Metra purred.
“Saviour to many,” Siena joined in.
The tail of the midnight elemental wrapped around his arm and yanked him over. John fell onto the lounger and was quickly beset on all sides by the warmth of his women. Hands ran through his short hair, while they held him close.
“Always with you.”
“Always behind you.”
“Never without us.”
It hardly even mattered which one of them said which.
