The Gamer Chapter 929 – To a simple expansion (Patreon)

“Ask me again,” Siena instructed, after the movement of her bubble-covered hand stopped. Her right still rolled John’s balls in her palm. Her soft breasts still rubbed against his back. Her tail continued to slide all over his soaped-up body. Her voice was right by his ear. “Did you not hear me? I told you to ask me again.”

With a sigh between desperation, lust and exasperation, John did his best to snap his wet fingers and asked, “Siena, are you my mistress?”

“Yes, I am,” she purred into his ear and resumed the pumping motions of his aching cock. Slow, tight strikes up and down his hard meatpole kept him close to the point of no return. “Do you crave release, hmm? Do you want me to stop edging you? Did you hope I would let you cum quicker when you told me that I had to ‘work for my release’?” She giggled and suddenly the speed of her hand intensified. “Cum for me, John. Cum all over the tiles!”

John had expected more teasing, but felt only relief at this sudden development. It washed over him like the hot water of the suddenly turned-on shower. His cum shot out into the air, accompanied by Siena’s orgasmic cries and the steady wet sounds of her handjob. After several minutes of edging, the load and the bliss he felt were equally above average.

‘Why did I even make that command?’ he asked himself as his orgasm started to subside. The answer was obvious. Because he was a completionist. Since the hypnotic suggestion of ‘are you my sex slave?’ existed, the counterpart needed to be made.

Despite his complaints, it wasn’t as if he actually disliked using the command. Getting the girls to be more dominant could be entertaining. With Siena, it changed fairly little. Already big on taking control and sadism, using the command on her only made her enjoy herself more, especially if it was paired with a relief command. Putting it on someone like Gnome was more interesting. Having the cuddle rock do her best to take charge of a situation was adorable in all the sexually charged ways.

“What the fuck, Siena?!” Eliza cried out, while the last drops of cum were wrung out of John’s cock and ran down the drain along the water that washed off the soap. “You can’t waste John’s seed like that, I fucking need that!”

“It’s still not time for you to get pregnant,” Siena responded.

“That’s not the point, Shadow the Edgehog, it tastes fucking fantastic!” Eliza continued her complaints. “At least tell me when you make him cum next time so I can drink that shit!”

“That would be a reward he hasn’t earned,” Siena hummed.

“I’m about to claim what I deserve,” John growled warningly, done with being submissive for the day. “If I had more time, I’d push you against the wall and fuck your ass until you pass out.”

“We can try that later,” Siena laughed.

“As for you,” John stared at Eliza and then nodded towards the floor, “if you want any of that cum, you know what to do.”

“Hmm…hehe…ehehehe…” Eliza stepped out from under her own shower and into the middle of the shower room. Soon she got down on all fours and started licking what she could find of his cum off the bathroom tiles. Thanks to Aclysia’s steady work, the Gamer had no doubt that the floor was as clean as the plates they ate from. “Yesshhhh,” the blood mage panted while the enchanted taste of his seed gave her a few light orgasms.

Watching the submissive degrade herself like that made John a whole lot happier. If they hadn’t had somewhere to be, he would have walked over and fucked her round ass. As it was, he let Siena massage every inch of him until he was clean. That was another factor that tingled his dominant side. As much as she might have taken the lead in cleaning his dick, she was still giving him a service.

After Eliza had lapped up all the cum she could smell and all of them were completely clean, they headed out into the living room.

Usually, the living room was a perfect example of a clean household. Aclysia wouldn’t allow any place he inhabited for a prolonged time fall into a state that could be described as even minorly disorganized. Today that cleanliness was compromised thanks to a layer of clothes that covered every available surface.

John’s harem was assembled in the room. Most of them had already made their choice of attire for the evening. Fine dresses dominated the selection, with every girl showing as much skin as she thought appropriate. Notable exceptions to the trend were Scarlett, who stuck to her suit, and Salamander, who wore a tight leather top and jeans. It gave the apocalypse elemental a biker tomboy look, even despite the long hair she had chosen to sport this evening.

The few that hadn’t picked something to wear yet were only in their underwear (a trend Siena and Eliza mimicked). Because they were rich and because they all wanted to look good, it was all lingerie of the most comfortable and sexy variety. One of them also added garter belts and stocking to that combination. It was Lydia, who was using her metal control powers to make pieces of metal fly into the dresses and then picking them up. They hovered over to the person currently being advised on what she should wear for the day.

Nia stood there and let herself be mustered by the combined gazes of everyone else. For a moment, John wanted to ask why they were trying to dress up the pariah when her ‘natural’ dress was already beautiful. Then he had seen the pale-skinned blonde in her white lingerie and decided to keep his trap shut. It would be nice to see her outside the usual binary of ‘dress’ and ‘nude’. The way the colourless panties stuck to her significantly improved backside made him doubly aware that they had no more time for sex.

He put on his suit and reminded everyone else of that fact, “We should head out in ten minutes.”

“It appears I’ll be spared playing the fashion doll, then,” Lydia declared and stood up to pick out what she wanted from the harem’s collection. Because most of their clothes were enchanted to be form-fitting, anyone could wear almost anything. This led to the current sprawling display of high-quality cloth lying around the place.

Lydia quickly picked out one of Metra’s dresses. It was jet-black silk and held up only by the tightness with which it clung to chest and midriff, leaving both almost visible. The pencil skirt was short, very short. If it rode up a few centimetres, everyone could have seen her panties. As it was, all one saw was the garter belt, a hand width of delicious thigh, and then the black stockings.

“You sure about this?” John asked. “There will be photographs. People at home will complain that you dressed like a hooker.”

“That is the beauty of my current situation, my love,” Lydia declared and threw her bra to the side. With the nature of her dress, its straps would have been in plain view. Just when John had thought she couldn’t look any better, he was reminded what a wonder unrestricted breasts were. “If the nobles complain, they go against their previous word. If they do so, I have every justification I need to cut them down in another duel.” A quiet rattling came from the corner of the room where Strimata was resting against the wall. “Let the people talk about my appearance, I got nothing to hide.” She stemmed a hand into her hip.

“Indeed, you don’t,” John said, giving the curvy queen a lecherous gaze. The internal affairs of Fusion had turned important enough that she could now appear on official events with him and it wouldn’t be seen as beneath the leader of one of Divided Gates. Perception was all that was based on and only the reaction of the remaining world would show if it was true.

“I like this one, what says the harem?” Rave spoke up and John deliberately kept his eyes away. He didn’t want to be spoiled on the looks until Nia wore it. While everyone gave their agreement, he instead watched Eliza wiggle her round butt into the confines of leather pants. A black top and choker were soon added. With little time, the blood mage just picked what she usually went out in. They weren’t exactly festive clothes, but they were fine enough for the occasion.

Siena also picked her usual dress. She and Salamander were confined in their choices due to their tails. The skirt of her dress was slit twice at the front, allowing easy leg movements, and once at the back, parting above the base of her tail. That had the side effect of leaving her big, delicious bum in plain view. Most of her tits were also visible, a sharp V-cut going all the way down to her navel. The strips of cloth that covered her breasts also wrapped around the back of her neck.

“Looking good, Nia,” Rave said approvingly and let John turn around.

It was a little bit odd to see Nia in a dress that wasn’t white, but the sky blue harmonized perfectly with the colour of her eyes. Decorative ornaments, sparkling like tiny gemstones, covered the sides of her chest, midriff and waist. Simple strings over the shoulders kept all of it up. The skirt was shorter at the front, ending just above her knees, and longest at the back, coming at a point between her calves.

“Do I look good?” Nia asked John, twirling around once to show all of her.

“Always, and especially today,” the Gamer responded without missing a beat, getting a smile to bloom on her face. Then he glanced over to the clock. “As much as I would love to look at all of you, we have to get going. The host is the last person that should be late.”

That wasn’t entirely accurate, in this specific case he had hired so many helpers that most of the evening could have happened without him, but it would still look odd if he came in late. With all of the impeccably dressed gorgeous women in tow, the Gamer moved to the teleporters and soon they all emerged over at the Fusion Capitol.

The teleporter was set inside the Dome of Power, the place in the capitol where the upper house of Fusion’s federal government, the House of Exceptionals, held its sessions. It was a circular building in the neoclassical style that had also been used for the White House. In practice, this meant that there were a lot of roman-esque pillars and an impressive dome on top of it all, giving the building its name.

The corridors that connected the large hall in the centre with the offices that every member of the House of Exceptionals was given for their government work were empty. Not in the sense of decorations, the walls themselves were works of art and slowly being filled with artworks and podiums for statues. Simply, there was nobody but John and his harem inside it. The same could not be said for the plaza they walked out to.

The Dome of Power was located at the centre of the rectangular green strip that interrupted the ring shape of the proper Fusion Capitol building. Two walkways led from the dome to the tips of the capitol, but John’s attention lay with the plaza at the centre of the circle. A large crowd filled it, buzzing around between stands and tables John walked towards without worry. The moment he was spotted, cheers broke out.

‘So, this is what 95% approval sounds like,’ John thought, taking his hand off Rave’s waist to wave at the people. The other hand still held onto Lydia. If the ruby-lipped queen attended the public event of a lesser power, she would have front row seats.

Two days had passed since John had been skeptical about his aggregated approval numbers. Since then, the only thing that could have made him believe in his popularity had happened: a sizable portion of land wanted to join Fusion of their own accord. They had come to him already agreeing on the minimum of Fusion’s constitutional demands, and with the worst elements of their local communities either exiled or captured, to be handed over to officials after things were made official.

A sharp observer could have pointed out the obvious: that John had done nothing to get this outcome. Since he had done nothing to create the situation, why should he get approval for it happening in the first place? It was a valid chain of reasoning, but it didn’t resonate properly with the human experience. Whether things went good or bad and whether or not they were involved at all, opinion on the leader always changed by the whims of the situation.

At this moment, the people of Fusion were on edge because they reportedly had an eldritch threat around them. However, things were going well, the economy was still flourishing, the government was taking measures that would let the people know they were being looked after (whether the measures worked or not was almost secondary), and nobody inside Fusion had died yet. The reveal of the secret information was what John had anticipated to crash his approval, but instead it had risen. After these recent developments dominating the news cycle, it had gone up a little bit more. It helped that he had decided to make a large event out of it. Seldom did one get the opportunity to celebrate peaceful expansion. That aside, John’s office wasn’t the appropriate place to decide such things. Both in terms of grandeur and because of legislative matters.

The absurdly high approval couldn’t last forever. Most approval polls asked the specific question if people were happy with the way he handled current ongoing situations. With nobody getting their head chomped off by Lorylim, approving of him was likely the default answer. The bad news was that concrete policies and time would wear that down. The good news was that going down from absurdly high approval meant he would still have very high approval.

“I must inquire on which cloud you are currently hovering,” Lydia asked, rubbing his back with gentle motions. They continued to walk until there was no longer stone under their feet but the thick cloth of the red carpet. It led them up a flight of stairs. “This must stroke your pride immensely.”

“It’s dangerously exhilarating,” the Gamer confessed and stopped at the top of the stairs. He turned around, looked down to the people that had a better life because of him. A saint would have been happy having accomplished that. John Newman would have lied had he said that the applause he got from simply waving at these people wasn’t part of the reason why he continued. He wanted to do the right thing and he wanted the glory. “I would say its cloud… sixty-nine.” He grinned at Lydia.

The queen rolled her eyes and pinched his buttocks. “A joker as you always are, my love,” she berated and nodded towards the large glass gate. Two guards stood there, waiting for their president to walk inside. “Will you be able to peel yourself away from the adoring masses?”

Just barely, he was.