Home Artists Posts Import Register

Content


John stood at the rim of the torch of the Statue of Liberty, his girlfriend and Lee in his arms, and listened. Listened to the song of the Nightingale, accompanied only by the wind that sometimes blew by. It was a song without guidance, sometimes made up of wordless vocals, at other times consisting of lyrics that described the journey of a harpy that dared to dream big and succeeded – only to find herself with little to hold onto.

It was a long song that rarely clung to any specific melody for long. Even styles were fluidly interchanged, as Nightingale exhausted her whole vocal range to report on all about her life that she found noteworthy in a single song. There was little John hadn’t heard before. Growing up in a loving household with siblings and half siblings, doubts if her voice was enough to carry her through life, the elation of making it, the frustrations and benefits of court life, the many suitors, the years spent wondering if there was ever someone she truly wanted. Her friendship with an alchemist who, like herself, was desired for looks and talents, rarely for character and never by anyone who could provide more than the luxury they already had.

Finally, her thoughts on John. Layers of considerations. About whether he offered more than luxury. About whether he cared about more than her divinity. About whether he cared about more than her beauty. Once she resolved those questions, whether she cared about more than his looks, his power, and his influence. The question of whether she dared to fall in love, now that time was always on her side.

John listened to it all with a small smile on his lips. It was not always the appropriate expression for what she sang about. What he felt joy about was not necessarily what she described, but that she described it to them.

The song continued for as long as it was welcome. A final word, a final note, then it faded away. Standing atop the torch, Nightingale stood underneath the sky made for her. She may not have been the centre of the universe, but she was the centre of this night. With one jump, she landed in front of John.

Half a step separated them and half a step was taken by both of them. Their chests bumped together and John hastened to grab her by the waist. Nightingale’s wings enveloped him, her smile was wide and she stretched the bird segment of her legs to get close to the height of his lips. She parted her lips to speak, but leaned in at the same time.

Words were pushed back, in favour of what they both needed so much more urgently. John could smell her lavender aroma long before he finally tasted her lips. It was a rush of sweetness and more lavender, of the particular aroma of a midnight stroll through a forest, and of the softness of her lips. Her tongue was smoother than that of a regular human, alien, yet nothing new to someone like John. It wrestled with his, as he kissed her more and more intensely.

He held her tight; he was facing slightly down. Nightingale had chosen her height well, letting him reach her without issue, while also letting him enjoy that mild kick of being taller. That was not an aspect of domming that John put too much stock in, but he was still just a man with simple urges.

Elation was practically all John felt. It had been so long, yet so short, that he had pledged to earn himself this kiss. It was not even two weeks ago, and yet a battle for the fate of a world, for the fate of her friend, and a week of slow normalization ago.

Nightingale grabbed onto his left leg with her claws. Their kiss was romantic and pure, yet there was nothing innocent about it. Be it because of what all they had done before this point or just because Nightingale was who and what she was, she soon moaned. Moaned, tightened the embrace of her lips, and extended her tongue a little more. John got wilder, their movements less refined, until the harpy began to quake.

The sweetness of her saliva got more intense, as the fluid got stickier. John kept going, tasting her like he would have tasted the honey of any of his haremettes. He wondered how far he could push this, how far he wanted to push this, and was about to break the kiss to ask a question, when his girlfriend wrapped her arms around both of them.

“How about ya give me a little nod if ya want the mark now,” Rave suggested, leaning as far into the kiss as she could. Lee mimicked the motion to John’s left, although she was too short to get particularly close. One of her hands was also still in her pocket, for quite obvious reasons.

John felt the nod more than he saw it and immediately sent the magic flowing through that first kiss of theirs. It was a pleasant tingle that welled up from deep inside and made its way to the various surfaces that were in touch with Nightingale. As the energy flowed into her, John could feel her almost like an extension of his own body. The harpy’s moans grew more intense, crossed the border into gasping, while the energy concentrated on a specific point between navel and vagina. On the counterpart, John could feel a tingle on one of his fingers.

When it went away, he finally broke the kiss.

Nightingale was breathing heavily and her tongue remained erotically stretched for several moments, before she was reminded of her manners and quickly pulled it back inside. “You are a lot fonder of me than I thought,” John said, not having expected it to work immediately. What he wanted to ask was whether he could Observe her or not to see how close he was.

“It was when I witnessed how hurt you were at the idea that I had left,” Nightingale confessed. “This is when I fell completely for you. I love you, my John.”

“I love you too,” John responded quietly.

It had only ever mattered where he went to try and find Nightingale, not where she actually was. From the start, she had been in her apartment, watching all what the group did from the cover of invisibility. Perhaps she had been there even earlier. He didn’t need to pry, he would learn it in due time.

Nightingale gave him a second peck, then turned her attention to Rave. The two women, new member and head of the harem, smiled at each other. Nightingale’s wings loosened and she instead embraced the feline Lightbearer. Without any hesitation, they started to make out.

Aggressively, Rave claimed total dominance in the kiss. Ever the supportive character and surrendering to the original haremette, Nightingale let it happen willingly. What little self-control she had regained between kisses was rapidly robbed from her again, as Rave stimulated the sensitive mouth of the harpy to the same and then past the point John had brought her.

Watching his walking bombshell of a girlfriend make out with a dark-haired, pale goddess of a monster girl was always hot. To watch her make Nightingale orgasm, that was just a step further up. Trembling, her legs almost giving in, the harpy’s shout was muffled and distorted by their smacking lips and whirling tongues.

“You’ll fit right in,” Rave purred, when she broke the kiss with the post-orgasmic harpy. “Course we already knew that. Lee, come here.”

The young Fateweaver covertly passed Delicia’s core to the Gamer, before following the order. Expectedly, she found herself lip to lip with Nightingale a moment later. Lips that had been, in this aspect, virgin a few minutes ago were rapidly meeting all those that she would spend the rest of her life with. Nightingale was eagerly indulging in all of it, as natural to the harem life as a bee was to eusocial behaviour.

‘Hope that was everything you wanted to witness,’ John told Delicia.

‘Great material to bother her down the line,’ the giggly voice of the alchemist responded. ‘That’s enough for me though. I’d like to tap out here.’

‘Alright.’ John obliged her, simply putting her into his inventory. Then he went back to concentrating on the erotic and romantic display of Nightingale making out with Lee. Their kiss was a bit awkward, because neither was sure who should take the lead. Eventually, they figured out a balance that worked for them. Still, that kiss was considerably shorter than the previous two.

John decided to help things out by embracing all three of them and making this as best a four-way affair as one could. Kissing did not lend itself that well to multiple directions, but they put all they could into it. It was largely limited to tongue fencing. Soon, they started giggling from how ridiculous these attempts were.

“So,” Lee spoke up first, “you want us to, like, take you somewhere or was this all you wanted?”

“A great inquiry.” Nightingale looked up to the sky, where the wished-for sky was still present. “I received what I desired. Nothing further is necessary for my happiness.” The goddess of the night raised a wing in front of her smile, brushing over her lips with the soft feathers. “No, I want to be with everyone else. That is my answer. Let me join the roost.”

John was quite happy with that answer. He would have given her anything and everything she asked for in that moment. This was among the best things she could have asked for, although it would be difficult to deliver in its entirety right now. “Most of the other girls are out currently,” he told her, “but-“

“Akshually,” Rave interrupted, pretentiously, “they’re all downstairs.”

“Eh… uhm…” John was flabbergasted. Why he was flabbergasted, he couldn’t even put into words. This was Rave they were talking about, of course she had somehow foreseen that Nightingale would want every last haremette to be present only a few hours after they set out to initiate the harpy. Still, even for her unnatural mind reading capacity, this was a bit much.

“Ya can thank Lorelei for that one,” Rave gave further context.

“Oh thank God,” John breathed a sigh of relief. “For a moment there, I questioned whether you were switched out by an alien. I mean, when did you ever have the ability to plan a few hours into the future?”

“Wanna see how many holes I can poke into your blowjob schedule?”

“Blowjob schedule?” Nightingale asked.

“Oh, you will love that,” Lee stated, while they started heading down the stairs inside the arm of Lady Liberty. “Basically, during John’s office hours, one to three of us hang around under his table an hour at a time, just sucking him off for our mutual amusement.”

“The many perks of having orgasm-inducing cum.” John held the door to the main staircase inside the Statue of Liberty open. Once everyone was through, he hastened to get back to the front of the group, squeezing every butt in passing. “Doubtful that you will need that enticement though, my songbird.”

Nightingale swallowed hard, then cleared her throat. “That is an interesting pastime.”

“Speaking of pastimes, the second, less pressing question about you joining the fold is still in the room.” John opened another door for the procession, leading outside. Once more under the sky, albeit considerably lower, he continued, “Will you become Patron Goddess of Fusion, Nightingale?”

“It is our future. Your project is my project.” Nightingale kissed him on the cheek. “Make the necessary arrangements, my love.”

John was just about ready to cuddle her until she collapsed and then fuck her until she passed out from that one word alone. Keeping his composure, he opened the necessary guild window and sent out the invitation. Nightingale raised an eyebrow when the window appeared in front of her. “That is all,” he assured her, before she could ask.

Usually there was a large ritual involved. The essence of a god was not easily bound to a guild. In the first place, the ritual was only an option because gods derived their power from the same source as organizations: collective consciousness. A government had power because all that were ruled by it agreed that they were ruled by it. Agreed, in this case, meant a factual acknowledging of that reality, not a moral agreement. Faith was a product of the subconscious, for the most part. Still, one could be tied to the other, through supernatural means and by convincing everyone in an organization that this or that god was the patron of their government. In doing so, the god effectively added an affix to their original divinity.

Nightingale raised a claw all the way to the window and tapped the confirmation button. The moment she did, a new window opened for John.

![](https://i.imgur.com/RbTi4Pn.png)

And since Nightingale was now part of his harem, and thus his Harem Party, he could view her Observe window without being meddled with by her protection measures. It was still good manners to ask first though. After she gave her okay, he opened that window, just to sate his curiosity in full.

![](https://i.imgur.com/OsWNLeQ.png)

“I was taught that becoming a Patron God would be an ordeal.” Nightingale shook her head and once more fixed her eyes on the stars. The beating wings were at their most spread at the moment. “For it to happen instantaneously is…”

“”Bullshit?”” Rave and Lee suggested at the same time.

“…crudely put, but apt.” Nightingale possessively wrapped her wings around John again. It was the kind of appreciative possessiveness that would not get in the way of the harem lifestyle whatsoever. “How long will this sky last?” she asked.

“Until the next sunrise.” John responded to the hug in kind and, before he knew, he was making out with Nightingale again. The barrier had been torn down and all cravings they had suppressed for the past week could now be granted. With the solid dirt and grass of the Palace’s rooftop under his feet, the Gamer felt confident to take things further.

The darkness that clad Nightingale was ultimately not a solid object. With enough pressure he could and did push through it. He explored her naked skin, parted the leotard like it was a shallow pool. His kisses disconnected from her lips and went down her neck. “Won’t the inhabitants wonder?”

“I’ve made all the necessary arrangements,” he told her. “You don’t need to worry about a thing.”

“Important question,” Rave chimed in again, the Harem Comms open. “Do ya want to move downstairs or will ya do the whole doing thing up here? We can do either.”

“We’ll… proceed downstairs,” Nightingale gasped. “Beautiful as this sky is, I wish to add my scent to the roost post-haste.”

“Ya love to hear it.” Rave grinned. “Get to it tiger, I wanna see this girl in our bed in the next ten minutes!”

“What the girlfriend wants, the girlfriend gets,” the Gamer announced. He scooped Nightingale up into a princess carry and effectively jogged down to his apartment, with her in his arms.

The sooner they got this on the road, the quicker he could stop suppressing his erection. On the way, Nightingale posed a question, “All of us haremettes are present, yes?”

“All save Sylph,” Rave told her, before John could. That meant even Lydia was there, which was news to John. Pleasant news, of course.

“…Is it possible to have her be present as well?” Nightingale inquired. “I would prefer so, for my initiation. There are traditional ways to do this, among my kind.”

Slowing down, the Gamer nodded and put Nightingale down. “Alright, I’ll get that sorted, you proceed to the apartment.” He didn’t even wait for a response. With all the eagerness of a man that wanted to find out what traditions exactly a species like the modern harpy had created for their harem initiations, he rushed down the corridors towards the summoning room.

In short order, he called Sylph back. In a dramatic explosion of thunder and flower petals, the arcvolt elemental manifested, laughing as imposingly as she could. “Tremble, Master, and hope, lewdness has come to this world! Oh, also Mom said that her sister has a Quest for you and-“

“We can sort that out tomorrow,” John interrupted her. Even if the mention of a Quest from the Elemental Mothers was incredibly intriguing, it was not enough to topple the horniness created from the promise of deflowering a harpy goddess. “Nightingale just joined the harem and she wanted you to be there when we have her initiation orgy.”

“Let’s goooooooooooooooo!” Sylph shouted.

Comments

No comments found for this post.