The Gamer Chapter 1033 – Couch Talks (Patreon)

Satisfying Nathalia was no easy task. In some ways, it was an entirely impossible task. Whenever she was satiated, she was horny. Whenever she was sexually content, she was hungry. It took a combined effort of the group to get both urges down to ‘acceptable’ levels. Perhaps surprisingly, John only did a little bit of the demanded work. After the previous hours-long engagement, Nathalia desired to get a bit more intimate with the girls primarily. That did contradict her previous focus on ‘tonight’ somewhat, but what the dragoness exactly wanted of the evening was to be seen anyway.

There were two primary ways Nathalia worked with the harem to relieve her lust. Either she dominated one of the girls, which usually was more to the direct benefit of any one of them than Nathalia’s own, or she had them eat her out. On rare occasions, one of the harem’s more sadistically minded members managed to instead push down Nathalia and use some toys on her.

Between the sexual engagements, they finished grilling, moved to the apartment, fed her some more, and ultimately managed to appease her fully with a massage. The advantage of this process was that Nathalia, at the very least, left a lasting impression on those who hadn’t known her yet and reminded everyone else that sleeping with her was an experience.

“Now, tell me what happened, in detail,” the dragoness demanded, sitting on the Harem Couch. Because she had been busy, continuously, in one way or another, she hadn’t yet heard any of the explanations of what happened. “Aclysia, bring me a stool.”

“There is no need to, Mistress Nathalia,” the weaponized maid stated. “Simply put your feet up and the Harem Couch will react to your wish.”

The goddess of volcanoes did as recommended and let out a pleased ‘huh’ when a stool did indeed manifest from the segment of the Couch, already in the shape of an armchair, she was on. She crossed her legs and danced her fingers over the armrest. “I considered, Aclysia, and decided you may drop the mistress title. In this social order we now inhabit together, we are supposed to be… equals.”

‘Yeah, she’ll do fine,’ John thought. Not only did she ‘lower’ herself to the level of people who were definitely weaker than herself in status in order to fit properly into the wider harem, she did all of this in fluent English. She hadn’t spent the year just wallowing in her own horniness. ‘Does make her a bit uncomfortable, but if it was a sacrifice she would make for anyone, it wouldn’t be worth anything.’

“I will address you as Nathalia, then,” the weaponized maid bowed.

“This extends to you as well,” the dragoness added, looking at Beatrice.

“Affirmative. I respect your consideration.”

Nathalia sighed and rubbed her forehead. “Consideration… you may call it that. I’d call it a concession to our living conditions…” She pointed at Lee with her other hand. “You, come here.”

“My name has three letters and sounds vaguely Asian, but it’s not ‘You’,” the young Fateweaver responded.

“Lee,” Nathalia said and turned the pointing into a wave. Once the little Miss Magus was in reach, the dragoness pulled her into her lap. While Lee yelped at the sudden development, she was frozen in awe once the much taller and stronger woman had her leaning against her bosom. “You are quite entertaining to bully.”

“I thought that’s what we had Gnome for?” Lee asked.

“H-hey!”

Salamander cackled, “Come on, no panties, you know it’s true.”

“None of us are wearing anything right now!”

“That ain’t the point and you fucking know it.”

Nathalia ignored the bickering across the room. “Such a precious woman you are,” she purred, caressing the side of Lee’s face.

“I guess I’ll at least sell for much when you get tired of me.” Lee smiled in jest.

“Dragons never sell what they deem as precious.”

‘Well…’ John thought of Dramar, but decided not to raise the exception in this discussion. He was too distracted watching Nathalia kiss Lee anyway. “Are you part of my harem or are you trying to steal it from me?” the Gamer asked.

“I can’t steal what I already own,” the dragoness made a dismissive gesture. “What is yours is mine, what is mine is yours. This reminds me, it would be a good start to tell me the extent of the land we own.”

“This island,” John told her. “Plus some properties around the world, but particularly in the eastern USA.”

Nathalia furrowed her eyebrows. “I was under the impression that you conquered vast swathes of territory, my John. What happened to them?”

“I don’t own them. Fusion’s member states and their citizens own that territory.”

“And you own Fusion, is that not the case?” Nathalia asked.

“Nah,” Metra chimed in by leaning on the backrest of the dragoness chair. “Master over there decided he’d create a presidential republic. Essentially, the people own Fusion, he just has the most influential government job.”

Nathalia’s furrowed eyebrows wandered up to create a deeply confused expression. “Why?” she wondered in such an earnest way that John was split between sighing and laughing. He did neither and Lee answered before he could.

“Because it’s the fairest way to make a state,” she said.

“Is it fair to give the power to people who have the privilege to live under a ruler strong and cunning enough to expand his influence?” Nathalia asked. “What did they do to create his realm? Divvy it up among your soldiers, if you must distribute the land at all.”

“Yeah, see, the Romans tended to do that and that led to a whole host of problems, such as continuous expansion being required to give new soldiers new land and… yeah, it’s just not sustainable.”

Nathalia opened her mouth to make another suggestion, then shook her head. “I never cared much for the matters of your human states. I will trust that you know what you are doing.”

“It’s honestly a whole fucking mess,” Metra interjected again. “Where he is letting the people have the power to govern themselves but ultimately everyone understands that he could take it back fairly easily if he ever wanted.”

“Ah… so it is more about effective governance?” Nathalia seemed more at ease with that explanation.

“It’s about principles,” John told her and sighed, “but yes, it’s also about effectiveness. If I knew I would always make the best decisions for everyone, I would make them for people. However, I don’t, so I can’t. Honestly, even if I did, who has that kind of time to micromanage the lives of hundreds of thousands of people?”

Nathalia nodded and made a waving gesture. “Let’s stop with this political talk and walk me through the happenings. I only know what the Horned Rat told me and what you said during our brief conversations.”

It was a lengthy breakdown, starting with after she left. At some points she laughed, at others she was angry, sometimes she complimented people in the room for their actions, at other times she chided them. Two times John had to stop the explanation because Salamander and Nathalia got into a playful altercation that, predictably, ended with Nathalia winning both times. The more recent things got, the more intently the dragoness listened.

“…and now we are waiting for the ramifications of the end of the Death Zone,” John finished up.

“Hmm…” Nathalia hummed. The naked skin of her arms was soon hidden underneath her scales, of which she pulled off multiple and placed them on the table in front of her. The maids let out a unified, pained, high-pitched sound when the obsidian-esque material seared its outline into the wooden frame of the otherwise glass surface. The dragoness only realized what she was doing to the furniture when it was already too late. “Does this table matter in any way?”

“Statement: it matters to the integrity of the room,” the passive, perfectionist maid was fast to answer. “Statement: it is highly important that everything is in top condition. Statement: the table will need to be replaced. Statement: I am agitated.”

“Yes,” Aclysia echoed the sentiment in a single word.

“Relax,” John tried to calm them down. “It’s nice to have some imperfections here and there. Makes the place feel lived in.”

“Sarcasm: I understand, Master, I will start to add random coloured spots to the walls, scratches to the doors, and make sure that every last chair just slightly wobb- urgh,” Beatrice reached for the shoulder of her fellow dragon maid for support. “I cannot sustain this joke. It hurts.”

“We are not throwing out a perfectly good table because it has some searing marks,” John told the duo.

“It’s not a perfectly good table anymore,” Aclysia lamented. “The amount of work I put into lacquering the surface… anti-scratch measures for glass aren’t cheap or easy, Master!”

“If you look at it like Aristotle, you would understand that the soul of a table is not bound to the perfect intactness of its surface’s looks but to the surface being optimal for a human to place them at so they are within reach. This minimal damage to the tabletop, therefore, does not impede the proper function. It is, therefore, a perfectly good table.”

“Contention: it may be a perfect table, but it is no longer a good table.”

“Can ya three spare us the semantics war?” Rave asked with a yawn, her cat tail flopping on Sylph’s leg. The first of the harem was unsurprisingly cuddling with three of her fellow lovers. “It really doesn’t matter.”

“Our environment is of the greatest possible importance! Where Master and his women relax is the nexus of the world,” Aclysia vehemently disagreed.

“We are not throwing out the table,” John insisted. “If it bothers you so much, fix it, but we are not getting rid of it.”

Siena giggled, turning the page on her tablet with the swipe of a finger. “Because we just cannot afford another table.”

“We could afford living in another house every day of the year. The point is to respect what we already have,” the Gamer put his foot down, figuratively speaking. “We are not throwing out the table.”

“And thus concludes the biggest fight we had in probably three months,” Rave clapped with a wide smile on her face. “Hurray for the harem.”

Aclysia and Beatrice sighed in unison, then looked at the reason for the entire discussion being offered to them by the handful. “I suppose I am sorry about the table.” Nathalia did not sound sorry at all, she likely shared ambivalence with 70% of the room. “Since your Material Bonuses are depleted, you will benefit from these.”

“Thank you, Nathalia,” Aclysia said, after swallowing her remaining annoyance. Beatrice quietly mimicked the motion of receiving the scales. Both swallowed them, only to be presented with a shard of Nathalia’s gem afterwards. They took that as well and, after John had accepted the Material Bonuses, it restored a whole bunch of powerful bonuses to them. Most of all, their Libido spiked tremendously. Their cheeks flushed and they now had other worries than a couple of burn marks on the table.

The dragoness rubbed the gemstone in her chest carefully, then broke one more shard off and handed it to John, along a couple of her scales. “Me having a similar magical frequency as Tiamat is doubtful, but it is worth the try,” she said and nodded towards Metra.

“Appreciated,” the First of Wrath lowered her head in honest gratitude, while John stored the items to show to Medelnick later. “If nothing else, you’ll give the creepy old guy the closest thing to an erection he can have.”

“That tends to be the reaction to any part of my body anyone gets their hands on,” Nathalia chuckled. The Gamer couldn’t help but follow suit, if only because the dragoness making a joke was so rare. “Do not lose it. I’m only willing to part with one more shard. My gem needs a couple of decades to restore itself fully and I am not going to suffer the aching that ensues if I remove too much of it.”

“I won’t,” John promised. He imagined that must have been a sensation similar to a toothache, progressively worsening the smaller the crystal got.

“I’ll have to have a stern talk with my useless brother, next he shows himself,” Nathalia switched to a different topic. “I allowed him to help you and he has been… his usual self.”

“He got less useful afterwards, to be honest,” John told her. His hand retreated from the inventory, now that he had put everything away. “I actually wonder, did you ever encounter Tiamat?”

“Her and I fought, once,” Nathalia responded.

“You did?” Metra asked, and John was equally surprised. This felt like the kind of thing that the First of Wrath would know about. “When?”

“Difficult to say… I never cared much for the way you humans tracked time… especially since it took you so long to agree on any kind of system.” The dragoness made a tossing gesture as she thought back. “It was when the first city states started shaping up in what you call Mesopotamia. Tilgun told me of this fascinating goddess he had found. I decided to investigate, out of boredom. Tiamat behaved like someone whose four-jawed face deserved to be clawed off. So, I tried that.” The goddess of volcanoes made a sour face. “I believe we accidentally raised the Caucasus mountains by a couple of metres during our brawl. In the end, our brawl ended because of Gaia.”

“…Hard to believe she didn’t just obliterate you,” John said.

“It was during the mythological age. Gaia was more inclined to brush over such accidents at the time.”

“Who out of you two would have won, you think?” Metra asked.

Nathalia’s sour expression deepened. “The goddess of chaos was… probably still is more powerful than me. At the time, she was whole. I hear she cut herself apart later. Maybe I could have squashed her true body at her weakest, but her Faith would always surpass mine.” The goddess of volcanoes looked down at her hand. “There is only so much power that can be wielded at any given moment, which serves to make many of us prominent gods, particularly those of death and destruction, equal in a direct engagement. Because of this, Tiamat always had an advantage. She could cut entirely new beings from her flesh, far beyond simple avatars. Many she kept bound to herself, others were gods in and of themselves. That was what made her one of the most powerful gods of her time. The Reaper and that annoyance Ferikrona are likely more powerful than Tiamat, but I doubt they changed their stance on staying out of all mortal affairs.”

“As far as I know, Ferikrona isn’t allowed to get involved because Gaia does not want the stream of time meddled with,” John said. “As for the Reaper, I honestly tried to find him but he hasn’t been seen outside of a select few public events in hundreds of years.”

“I only ever encountered him at Romulus’ court and I had no interest in speaking to him,” Nathalia said.

“Because skeletons only have bones, not boners,” Salamander joked and got growled at. “Come on, we all know you are a big old slut, Natty.”

“That was then and now is now,” the goddess declared.

“What, are you going to claim you are a whole new person now?” the apocalypse elemental mocked.

“No, I am loyal,” Nathalia declared and moved over to John, sitting down on his lap. “Who cares for my partners in the past? Let them fade, all that matters now is my love for John and… most of you…” She gave Salamander a glare. “You, I will tolerate.”

“You know you love me, granny.”

“I will drown out your insolence by indulging in your breasts later.”

“HAH, try me.”

Rolling her eyes, Nathalia concentrated on John. “Kiss me, my John, and then you may show me this island in all its details. If it’s all you truly claim to own, then I demand it to be impressive at least.”

“As you wish, my goddess,” John obliged on both accounts.

The Horned Rat would be back when he felt like it anyway.