The Gamer Chapter 786 – Tournament of Oddities 21 – The home affairs (Patreon)

‘I suppose getting one Quest every two challenges is still pretty nice,’ the Gamer thought while he went through the text. ‘I don’t like the sound of those goals. I don’t like them at all. Do they have some mechanism that can kill and then revive me or is it the traditional ‘live for this amount of time’ kind of challenge?’ He sighed out loud and the window disappeared, when his actual body over in Florida pressed the button. ‘Guess I’ll see tomorrow. Not like I will be punished for failing the Quest.’

He got the experience just for being there so, even if he immediately surrendered, he was guaranteed around two levels for something that he would have gone to anyway. The optional reward was something he seriously should chase after though. It would be a tremendous quality of life improvement and meant he didn’t have to switch back to Elementalist all the time, just for the chance to get that blasted ‘Synchronize perfectly with three elementals at the same time’ challenge done.

Not that having the Elementalist Class on at most times was a drawback. It had the best passive bonuses of any Class, giving extra Stats to all his elementals, so he wanted it active anyway. It was just nice to have ease of mind with these things.

“So that was that fucking thing,” Eliza said from her position in his lap. Her back was pressed against his chest, his arms were slung around her shoulders and her tight, little pussy gripped his cock like a mould fit around a freshly cast sword. Except this case was constricting around him with pleasurable pulses as the muscles inside the submissive, pale girl twitched. “What’s it like seeing yourself on the stream?”

“Not that much different from seeing myself in a video,” he told her, enjoying just the entirety of the situation. Having a lover that was two sizes smaller than him enabled a level of protective cuddling that just pandered to certain instincts. ‘No wonder most men tend to want to have shorter girlfriends,’ he thought.

“You watch videos of yourself?” Eliza asked in a mocking tone. “How much of an egotistical ass can you be?”

“It helps with figuring out how to present myself properly,” John told her, squishing her entire body, just because he could. “Charisma gives me an intuitive understanding about these things, but it’s better to do at least some practicing, you know?” He reached out to the laptop, groaning a bit as the motion made her shift around him, and then dragged the timeline back by about thirty seconds. The picture changed on the laptop and the large television they had in the living room. “See this? This is the exact moment I communicate to myself how I look on stream.”

He was showing her the moment he turned to face the door and the little pause he had shown there. Because of the way he then seamlessly mustered his resolve, he managed to eliminate any feelings of hesitation the scene had and replaced it with pure confidence. Pure confidence that the Gamer, in that situation, had not had.

“A leader has to think of optics,” he told her. “There is an example that’s often cited where Ronald Reagan met Gorbachev in Geneva. Although it was quite cold at the time, Reagan refuses to wear a coat and hops down the stairs as youthfully as he can to meet the Soviet leader. They shake hands and, despite being 20 years older, Reagan comes across as more dynamic and energetic than his opposite, whose body is almost entirely hidden by the coat.”

John stopped for a moment to indulge in one of his favourite things, smelling the hair of the girls he loved. Eliza had that natural sweet smell that well-maintained women had, just cranked up to thirteen. Whatever pheromones the human body could exude, the blood mage’s state as something genetically superior to the average person made her natural aroma that much more enticing. Luckily, her evolution left her close enough to bear his children. Something extremely important for her and increasingly seductive to John.

“I know that photo and it’s not that fucking impressive,” Eliza told him.

John nodded, he tended to agree. “I think the example is overblown, but the point stands. In the minds of many and, in a lot of ways, in reality, I represent the entirety of Fusion. If I look weak, that’s an issue. Granted, any hesitation I showed at the end there is probably overshadowed by the entire overanalysing of the door.”

“Which makes you look like a totally overcautious jackass.”

“Sure, it also makes me look thoughtful, though,” John told her. “Careful to not wager anything important on a spur of the moment decision. Anyway…” he put on some nice jazz music and then got off the laptop, “…let’s leave the essays of how my behaviour was or wasn’t appropriate to the journalists. Right now, I only care about you.” He pinched her left nipple and got a tiny, lustful sigh from her. “You’re adorable,” he whispered into her ear.

“No, stop!” she shouted, blushing so heavily her pale skin went from a blue to a purple tinge. “I’m not cute or any of that shit! I’m just a useless piece of meat that you find attractive for some reason. I don’t deserve compliments; compliments are for attractive girls that don’t drown in depression and actually do productive fuckery with their lives. I…”

“Eliza,” John interrupted her, grabbing the underside of her chin and pulling her head back. His voice rang with mild anger. “You know my rules – nobody gets to insult what is mine. And, just so we are completely clear, remind me whose you are?”

“Yours,” she answered immediately, her self-deprecating tone replaced with lustful gasps. “I’m yours.”

“That’s right, good girl,” he complimented in a much softer voice. He reached down between her legs with his other hand, rubbing her clit with slow, methodical movements as he continued to talk. “You’re my Eliza. A girl with a killer body and beautiful thighs. You’re gorgeous, you’re a submissive masochist that knows exactly how to deal with my vast urges. You’re a great artist, a person that continues wonderfully to recover from a lot of trauma and your presence alone is a great deterrent for anyone that wants to harm me. You… have a lot of great qualities.”

He had a lot more to say about what was lovely about her, but he stopped short due to her squirming in his arms. As a lack of moans bore testimony to, she was genuinely uncomfortable with all of those compliments. Before she got some sort of embarrassment attack from being treated too well, it had happened in the past, John decided to give her something she was more comfortable with.

“Now, slave,” he growled in his bedroom voice, “get on the floor and present yourself. Show me that you can at least follow orders, you wonderful slut.”

“Yes, Master.” She sounded more relieved than horny and rose off his cock to follow his orders.

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“Ehehehehehe,” Eliza was smirking like the well-filled cumdump that she currently was. Holding onto John’s arm, she continued to giggle while they walked. “Master used me good, hehehehe.” It would have been a bit creepy if he didn’t know her so well.

“You try to be me and not constantly want to use you,” John told her. “Do you know how many men would give their left hand to have someone like you?”

“Anyone who would willingly cripple themselves to get the ‘privilege’ of getting to deal with me and my issues is a giant fucking moron.” Stabbing at his side with one finger she looked at him. “Like you! That I want to carry your genes into the next generation is just as smart as an inquisitor whipping his wife for not telling him what his birthday present will be. As a matter of fucking fact, crossing your absolute idiocy with my bitching lunacy is guaranteed to produce some awful monstrosity.”

“Sure, but it’ll be our awful monstrosity,” John joked and fondled her butt. In doing so, he didn’t just touch skin, but also leather. As many times as he had cum inside her, she had needed to put on her usual outfit to keep the semen from drooling out, even after the shower. The thong alone would have done on that end, but it just looked better when she was also wearing the bra, and John had a definitive hard-on for those thigh-high leather boots.

“I want to have your fucking baby so bad!” Eliza suddenly cried out. “No, fuck it, babies, plural! Give me eight of those! Just breed me with that giant cock of yours again and again until I forget what it’s like to not be pregnant!” Taking her hands off his arm, she grabbed his shoulder and began to shake him. “TALK TO ME, YOU SHITHEAD, WHEN ARE WE BREEDING!?!”

“You’re really moody today,” he pointed out, unbothered by the way his field of view was torn left to right and back again repeatedly. His Extension lacked the biological parts that would have taken issue with such a treatment.

“Urgh, sorry,” Eliza let go and pouted, “must be because I know you’re not here… I mean, you are. You absolutely fucking are right here. You smell the same, sound the same, fuck the same, but I know you’re somewhere else.” She reached down to the Lover’s Will mark and her womb behind it. “Also that you’re shooting some magical replacement and not the genuine stuff. Of all the fucking things my ‘supreme’ senses notice that could give you off as a double, it’s the fucking fact that there are not even useless swimmers in this semen. It’s just some pseudo-cum liquid. It’s still fucking awesome, but it’s just not the same!”

“I could point out that I am not only shooting blanks but you’re also on birth control. However, you’re clearly aware and this doesn’t sound like I can talk you out of it with logic,” John remarked.

“Oh, right!” Eliza must have remembered something. “I wanted to ask you if you cared if I had the birth control removed.”

“Why?” John raised an eyebrow.

“Because it’s about as useless as a dismembered pantomime screaming in pain.” Her metaphor was as flowery as they always were. “The only one who I will ever let fuck me is you anyway. I may be a useless bitch, but I’m a loyal bitch. Since you can tell your impregnation tadpoles to stay away from my eggs anyway, I don’t really see why I should keep them locked up.”

“Good point…” John slowly admitted, wondering why he found himself with an immediate wish to reject her assertion. When he realized what it was, he said it out loud. “It would be really dangerous, you know that, right?”

Eliza grinned from ear to ear. “Whatever could you mean, Master?” she asked in her sweetest tone. “Afraid that you’ll lose control, switch that shit back on during sex and knock me up without thinking about it? Because I totally don’t hope that happens.”

“You remember we have an agreement, right? You get your baby after Rave gets her vows.”

“Yeah and the reasonable part of me understands that and that I shouldn’t really have kids while a depressed goddess of genocide mopes around inside, too much of an unstable cunt to confront her growing humanity and stop annoying me with her shitty interruptions every few weeks,” Eliza rambled down only to moan, “but I really fucking want to be breeeeeeed.”

“Hard to argue with that,” John returned and scratched the back of his head. “Anyway, to your point, I don’t mind if you take the birth control off.” Excitedly, Eliza wobbled where she stood. “If it happens, then that’ll be on me and I’ll take responsibility.”

He couldn’t deny that Eliza being basically one button click away from impregnation at all times gave him a giant hard-on. The ability to dictate whenever he was ready to knock her up presented a level of control he had never considered. It would be a struggle sometimes, but he thought himself disciplined enough to withstand the temptation. Which was just another layer of debauchery on his love life. That aside, she was completely right. There was no need to wait until the engagement for her to get rid of whatever the Apothecaries had done to keep her temporarily infertile.

“Yesssssssss,” she hissed and got back to hugging his arm. “Love you!”

“Just remember to only go to a female doctor or Medelnick!” he told her. It was one of his admittedly illogical hang-ups that he didn’t want any man to touch his girl’s intimate areas, even if it was for a purely medical purpose. If it was necessary, he knew he would cave fairly quickly. As long as they had the luxury, he insisted on it.

Medelnick, who he had first met when bringing Tamara over for inspection of her blood addiction, was an exception due to the notable fact that he was a eunuch with no Libido to speak of. He was less of a male, and more just a plain human. Paired with a notable skill in his craft and a willingness to stay within the ethical boundaries that Fusion set, he was the perfect candidate to be John’s go-to Apothecary.

“No need to get jealous, John,” Eliza said and nibbled on his arm, for some incomprehensible reason. “I already said, the only one I ever want inside me is you. You and your stupidly fat, giant, wonderful cock.” She pulled on him to make them continue their way down the hallway. “Let’s get going, Velka is hungry!”

“I think that’s up for debate,” John told her, and they continued on in their path.

The second they opened the door, there was an excited meow from the Magryph. Her black and white head peeked over the edge of one of the higher platforms and she meowed a second time, before vanishing for half a second. Then she began to move with something in her beak. Jumping down one platform, landing on another one and then following the pathway along the wall down, she met them at the feeding table. Proudly, she put down a polished pearl, presenting it by nudging it toward Eliza.

“You did it, you stup- fu-…” Eliza bit the inside of her cheek and fell silent for a second. Chuckling, John watched her attempts to keep the curses down. “You did it, you bird!” she finally got out a very incomplete feeling sentence and reached out to take the pearl and look at it for a little bit. Velka had other plans, grabbing Eliza’s pinkie with her beak and pulling her towards her back. “Good Velka.” The blood mage didn’t mind and gave the cat-sized chimera a nice series of back scratches, while John went to inspect the riddle he had put down for her.

She had indeed solved it. The removable bits had been stacked at the side in a surprisingly ordered fashion, with all the knobs and handles turned or moved. ‘Alright, so she is capable of basic problem solving now,’ he thought. “Eliza, remind me to lock the door when we leave,” he told the blood mage.

“Like you a- could wipe anything from your orgasm powered harddrive if you fu- FUCK!” Eliza screamed and John turned around, concerned Velka may have scratched her or something. Instead, he found the blood mage slamming a hand in front of her mouth and a startled Velka sitting on her butt and quietly warbling in a confused fashion.

“What just happened?” the Gamer wanted to know.

“I got frustrated with the fact I shouldn’t curse, so I cursed extra loudly reflexively…” Eliza mumbled and ashamedly looked down on the floor. “You can give me a dunce hat now or something…”

“I’ll give you a spanking later, don’t you worry,” John joked and walked over to give her a quick kiss. In the first place, he wasn’t that concerned about Velka learning some bad words. That was a restriction Eliza had decided to put on herself entirely on her own. “Anyway, look at that.”

She followed the direction he was pointing at and spotted the bowl with normal cat food that they had placed there. Of the amount they had put in there, there was clearly a fair bit missing. Some of it had been scattered over the nearby floor, but not enough to make up for more than a quarter of it.

“Aww, she’s growing up.” Eliza sounded equally sad and excited about that. Then she got back to giving Velka head pats. “Once you’re an adult, I won’t feel bad about cussing like a horny sailor around you anymore.”

The Magryph had no idea what any of that meant and only meowed and warbled because she was happy with the general attention. “Who knows, maybe she’ll get strong enough to carry you, small as you are,” John teased the white and blue haired blood mage and got himself stomped on the naked foot for that. Thankfully, she had enough control over her strength nowadays to do so without breaking his bones.

“You’re an as- an a- an ace of spades!” Eliza stammered in search of something to insult him with.

“And you’re precious,” John told her and stroked her head with more intimacy than he could have ever mustered for a mere pet. He ran his hand over her soft, wild and silky hair, then carefully brushed a few strands behind her ear.

“Apparently?!” Her voice cracked as she answered.

“Good thing you’re willing to be mine forever,” he said while bowing down. “Because I can’t give you up.”

They kissed one more time.