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The Gamer Chapter 1370 – Birdy Told
🕑 Added 2023-01-21 07:06:12 +0000 UTC“And that just… makes it easy?” Hailey asked, staring at the box of small vials that John had just handed her. Each glass bottle held no more than 10 millilitres.
“Easier than a tampon, or so I am told,” John responded to Hailey’s inquiry. “I obviously have no first-hand experience. You drink one each weekend and then three over the course of your period, whenever you feel it intuitively. It’ll give your body a way to… diminish the bloodier side of those days.”
Hailey put the potions into the bag she had slung over her shoulder. Like much else John saw her with these days, it was brand new. The money he had given her, she was investing into a number of useful things she obviously had always wanted. It was nice to see her in new clothes. Particularly because the new clothes she wore around John were quite skimpy.
Today she wore a tiny denim vest and the same leather bra that she had displayed previously. Typically she carried some more modest clothes on her when she arrived, but they always flew right into a corner of her car. John had a feeling those only existed so her parents didn’t comment on the way she was dressed when she left the house.
The tan lines were moving up and John loved it every time he saw it. At some point, it would only be that bra and a thong that left any kind of semi-permanent imprint on her. He would see to that. He owed it to his own desires. When he had come so far in getting his very own country girl, why stop here?
Hailey steered his thoughts back to less pleasant topics. “Ain’t normal for a guy to be willin’ to talk about girl’s difficulties.”
“It’s not exactly my favourite topic. I’d like to pretend women are perfect creatures that always look good, don’t grow any hair in unwanted places, are always ready to have sex, and fart rainbows at worst.” That last bit got a chuckle out of Hailey. “Sadly and thankfully, I am wise to reality. There’s a lot of work that goes into… this.” He gestured at the country gal’s perfectly hairless, work-sculpted curves. “The Abyss makes it easier, with all of the magical tools, but work is still work and I admire effort.”
“Been a lot easier without daily shaves,” Hailey reported and ran a hand over her smooth leg. “Feelin’ smoother than a polished barrel… Anyhoo, purrdy boy, thanks for the present. I’ll see you in an hour or two.”
“That’s the first I hear of it?” John was confused. “Thought you were leaving for the day, like usual.”
“Well, I won’t be seeing ya tom’row, will I?” Hailey pointed out.
John shook his head. Scarlett had been keeping up with the count of the tornadoes in the state and the 114th one was approaching rapidly, which meant they had to relocate to the prophesized area. “I’m not willing to expose you to that level of danger. Not yet.”
“And I ain’t willin’ to let ya leave me for a few days without a proper goodbye.” She checked the sun. “Gotta get back before the cows go wild though. Catch ya later.” She closed her eyes and puckered her lips.
John was way too experienced to even hesitate at the invitation. Putting an arm around her waist, he pulled her against his chest. Hailey let out a surprised and pleased laugh, then she was silenced by him claiming those pink lips. She tasted like salt and smelled of dust, machine oil, and the forest. A blend created by her lifestyle and the constant meditation exercises.
Aiming to impress, John explored her mouth thoroughly. This was the first opportunity to kiss her that he had gotten since she had jumped him on her property. Considering how overwhelmed he had been at the time, this may as well have been the first.
Hailey evidently had expected less than he was giving – which was her mistake. Her breathing grew more excited with each passing second. The less experienced answers of her tongue, the Gamer nudged in the proper way. When they parted, they did so only because he wanted to leave her hungry for more. “You have to go, right?” John asked suavely, nodding down to the clenched fists holding his shirt.
“Ri’ht,” Hailey responded breathily. She took a deep breath, forced herself to relax, and stepped back. “Later!”
“Later!” John shouted back, staring at her ass while she climbed into her pick-up truck. ‘I am so smacking that ass,’ he thought and turned around, when her car rolled off his property. The sensation of the kiss lingered on his lips. Every step back to the construction site had a spring to it. John felt as bouncy as he always did when one of the women he was coveting responded positively.
He went around the first floor that they had built. By now, all the drywall had been screwed in and all the windows put in place. Save for the fact that there was no roof yet, it was a perfectly liveable shelter, with running water and electricity. The lack of furniture, wallpaper, and other such things that made a house a home prevented them from making the switch though. John hadn’t even installed a toilet yet.
Work on the second floor had begun. It was, understandably, more difficult. Getting the bricks up there to lay them, alongside all other building materials, was a process that took its time. Regardless, they were making good progress. Everyone was taking a break at the moment. A break that, John realized moments before he started mixing mortar again, he felt like joining.
Entering an Illusion Barrier from a spot that did not exist on the other side was always a trippy experience. One moment John stood on top of the mansion, the next he was on the ground level, standing right next to Nathalia’s snooze spire. The heat from the building made him take a reflexive step sideways. Even though he had considerable Fire Resistance, he did not like direct contact with lava.
Few of the haremettes were around. Many opted to take their break by showering, others just took a nap, yet others went over to the Hudson Barrier to follow other obligations. By the central camping place, John spotted a typical pair. Nightingale and Delicia were hanging out by the grill, one cleaning the stone surface of that elemental-shaped area with a wet broom, the other sitting on one of the moss couches, sipping a cold drink with her straw.
“Did Aclysia put you up for work?” John asked, once he was at a comfortable talking distance.
“Yup, apparently I need to step up my brooming game,” Delicia responded, waving the wooden utensil around. Dirty water was flung around and Nightingale swiftly shielded the vase from which she sipped her alcoholic beverage with her wing.
“Delicia!” the lady of the night cried out. “This is unservantly behaviour.”
“Urgh…” the smug maid quickly put the broom back down. The end of the shaft extended a full hand’s length past her shoulder as she scrubbed the smooth stone. “Don’t tell the head maid, please? She’s scary.”
“Aclysia is the best,” John simply said and joined Nightingale on the couch. “Day drinking, and gin and tonic at that?” he whispered to her. “What has gotten into you, my songbird?”
“I am inspired by your example,” the goddess responded simply.
All John could do was chuckle, while they snuggled up against one another. Nightingale offered the end of the extra long straw to him. He refused with a simply raised palm. She shrugged and took another sip. The liquid travelled up, slightly shifting the colour of the blue straw, and then rapidly descended after the harpy stopped sucking.
Together, they watched Delicia work. The shortstack was diligent in the task given, for the most part. Shaking her ass and practically bouncing whenever she relocated, she seemed more focused on attracting eyeballs than doing the proper work. “I doubt by ‘step up your brooming game’ Aclysia meant ‘give Master a show’,” John called her out for her constant flaunting.
“Fiiiiine,” Delicia groaned and immediately switched to proper, practical scrubbing. “Surprised you can think about anything else than making new stains, really,” she sassed at him while doing her work. “Only reason why you keep introducing new maids is so you never have to learn how to operate a laundry machine.”
“Love that you can just state that as if it’s a fact,” John responded drily.
“Ah! I hear a lot of issue with the formulation and none with the statement.”
“Even if I told you the truth, you would just twist it around.”
“Psh, like I need to twist anything to insult a nerd like you. Want to throw some more Leet-Speak at me?”
Nightingale chuckled, interrupting their back and forth with her elegant tones. “It’s pleasant to have Delicia rub someone else’s nerves.”
“Oh, don’t worry, I got plenty left for you, dirt feathers!” Delicia declared with a smug grin.
“You were the one slinging muddy water around!” Nightingale immediately checked her wings to make sure there was no dirt on any of them. The panicked and ultimately unnecessary reaction caused Delicia to roar with mocking laughter. Clenching the shaft of the broom tightly against her chest, she struggled to remain upright.
John’s mind immediately vanished between those tits. The wood was swallowed between those white-hugged spheres of female bounciness. “The starer is back!” Delicia pulled him back to reality and pointed an accusing finger at him. “Police, police, I got a stalker, he is always leering at my tits!”
“If you don’t want them leered at, wear something with less cleavage!”
“Victim blaming! Plus, you gave me this outfit!”
“You practically begged me to let you into the maids.”
“No, I did not, I said I liked being one!”
John suddenly dropped the entirety of his outrage as he realized he could treat himself to a little something. With the shift in his demeanour came a shift in Delicia’s. Suddenly, she blushed and squirmed, as if she already knew what he would ask. “Assume the pose.”
“Y-yes… Master…” Delicia responded quietly. Her eyes were focused on the floor. Carefully, she put the broom against the grill. Then, she elegantly pulled the front flap of her skirt up and to the side. Between panties and garter belt lay the Lover’s Will mark, deep blue on her pale skin. It was every bit as sexy on her as the other four maids.
“I’ll have all of you rowed up for my viewing pleasure as soon as we get back to regular affairs.” John grinned. That was something he could look forward to. Claire and the other maids would still have attempted the welcome home ritual, had John not told them that it did not feel right out here. He was rarely ever out of sight from where he slept, so it felt odd to be welcomed home in that matter. Best to keep that enjoyment for the regular daily affairs. “Alright, get back to work.”
“How gracious of you.” Delicia’s voice was dripping with dry sarcasm.
The rhythmic sound of the broom on the floor accompanied the little love whispers John and Nightingale exchanged for a little white. Eventually, John had to ask a question he had been wondering about for a while. “Say, you two aren’t exactly close in age and neither in… temperament,” he put it diplomatically. “How did you two end up being best friends?”
“Like so many stories, it starts with Gale being unnecessarily nervous,” Delicia responded immediately.
“He – was – the – son – of – a – DUKE!” Nightingale responded with the intensity only someone tired of repeating the same fact every retelling could muster. “Nervousness was completely justified.”
“Psh, like they would have fired Yolande, world renowned songstress, over some minor slight.”
“I was not world renowned,” Nightingale shot back immediately.
“Ladies, can you take it from the top?” John requested. He was capable of piecing things together, but a structured rundown would have been a lot more constructive. “Gale, can you do the majority of the talking? Otherwise, we’ll be answering to jabs until the sun goes down.”
“What, you think my sass is solar powered? Psh, that’d be stupid.”
Nightingale cleared her throat. “It was about eight years ago. I was making a name for myself at court, after my discovery as a songstress in a night club. This night, with the patronage of Maximillian’s parents, may they rest peacefully, I sang at a gala that had most of Rex Germaniae’s mid-level titles in attendance. Those that inherited positions of local worth. During my stay in the back area, I met a short and loud-mouthed peasant girl.”
“The gala was an event to which the valedictorian of each course of the Cologne Hohenstaufen Academy were invited, which of course included my glorious self.”
“Less than half the accomplishment she makes it sound like. The alchemy course is the least visited.”
“He didn’t need to know that!”
“But I already did, because of course it is,” John pointed out.
“Grrrrr.” Delicia bent the shaft of the broom nearly to the breaking point. “I will show you! I will show you all, just you wait, you doubters! Alchemy rules and I’ll blow your mind with what I’ll create, once I get my laboratory up and running.”
“Sure, sure,” John egged her on. Truthfully speaking, he could not wait. Breakthroughs in alchemy, an objectively low-funded field of magic due to a lack of products that exceeded ‘useful’ in their description, would only go further to put Fusion on the map. Becoming the core of an explosion in magical research was rapidly growing closer. “Continue?”
“We had a short exchange in the backroom.” Nightingale stopped to take a sip of her drink. “I found her obnoxious.”
“I found her hilarious!”
Nightingale bit back a snide remark. “I appreciated the presence of another lowborn, however. We talked, until it was my time to perform. Afterwards, I was approached by the son of a duke who made uncouth advances. His status made refusing him difficult, albeit I was convinced to do so no matter the setback that created. That was when Delicia entered the scene.”
“Big shocker, Delicia comes to the rescue,” the alchemist said. “I came right in with a sharp tongue and witty mind and dismantled the situation, is there anything I cannot do?”
“Touch your elbows together?” John suggested.
That gave the shortstack pause. John could not believe his eyes, when she fell for the oldest trick in the book. In an effort to get her elbows to meet, she squished her tits together something fierce. The Gamer laughed and she kept on trying. As long as her chest remained that humongous, she would never succeed.
“Aaah, man, whatever!” Delicia cried.
“While Delicia drew the ire of the court, I slipped away. I would later report the incident to my patrons of that evening, who would then proceed to hire Delicia to shelter her from negative consequences.”
“And so I could supply them with health potions and all the good stuff. Oh, hey, John, remember the potions that Mario de Medici used in his fight against you? My work!”
The Gamer did briefly recall, although it was not him who had fought the Italian sword master. That would have been Eliana (Thana at the time) and the potions had changed nothing about the course of that fight. “Glad that you were always working against me.”
“Yeah!” Delicia proclaimed proudly.
They continued to banter the time away until Hailey came back.
