The Gamer Chapter 1423 – Thorough Grinding 15 – As they Advanced (Patreon)
Content
The Creator Puppet was exchanged for the Ambassador Double. While the Raiding continued, the golem would continue practicing with the mace. Frustratingly, none of what he did stuck properly. Consciously, he knew that he was making all of these little mistakes while having his duels against Claire, Sylph, or even Eliana. Practically, he was incapable of building up any kind of muscle memory. The drawbacks of his Innate Ability.
At least casting the Elemental Bolt remained fun. It was the first time that John had access to a spell in the traditional sense. Sure, they always were projectiles, but he could fire them as birds or as spirals, as bullets or as lances. It had little influence on the performance of the attack. That was bound to the total Stats of the Creator Puppet. It was fun though.
The party kept slaughtering its way through the Raid, the Creator Puppet kept gathering what experience it could, and John was balls deep in Lydia’s backdoor.
“My… love,” she gasped, as the constant slapping of his hips against her ass filled the room. Untiring, he was glued to the hypnotic ripples of her bubble butt. In one moment it was a perfectly round display of the female backside, then it was compromised, so wonderfully compromised, by the pressing of his groin against her, flattening the relaxed flesh. John’s hands were around her waist. A second pair, with slender fingers, was just a bit lower. “Deeper…” Lydia ordered.
The demand was not for his ears, but for that of the seer that was lapping at the royal’s cunt. Lorelei lay between Lydia’s four limbs. Although she was fully dressed, her skirt had wiggled up enough that the chastity belt was on full display. Pussy juice soaked through the enchanted silk that covered her pussy. Sometimes her hips bucked up, attempting to grind against the toys that had manifested inside her. That was as much pleasure as she got to experience. Neither Lydia nor John were touching her.
“Yesh,” she slurred, lustful desperation in every quiver of her body.
“How is it, to watch someone else get everything you want?” John asked, spanking Lydia’s ass for effect. The auburn-haired buttslut shouted her lust openly.
“I loooohve watsching my sishters cuuuhm,” Lorelei lewdly proclaimed, never stopping the motions of her tongue. “Youh claihm her sho thoroughly, Mashtahr!”
“You didn’t answer my question,” John reprimanded her.
“It makessh me dizzzzyyyyy.” Lorelei’s lower body shot up and trembled – her release remained unfound. “I waaaahnt you to fuuuuuhck my asssholeeeee so muuuuuuch.” She suddenly went silent. John could only imagine her sweaty, desperate face as the plug in her backdoor grew a little bit more. He kept it just slightly thinner than his cock. When he would finally claim that hole, he would have already trained her completely. “Shaaaape me moooooore, Mashtahr!”
Now it was John’s turn to tremble. He imagined what he could do to her with the enchantments. Turning her tongue and throat into fully erogenous zones. Growing her tits until they were as large Salamander’s and just as sensitive. Milk gathering inside, as her belly swelled from his seed. Months ticking by, her growing larger, then years ticking by, one after another, making sure she got each of the seven children she wanted. As a start, that was.
‘Fuck,’ John caught himself, one fantasy transitioning into another one. He forced his mind onto the object of his current desire. The heart-shaped pillow of an ass was right there in front of him and Lydia kept moaning his name. Even now she tried to sound graceful. Attempts utterly destroyed by the chain of orgasms he pounded into her. Lydia threw her head back and screamed.
“Inside me, my love!” With one final thrust, John felt his balls tighten. Lydia’s sphincter clenched tight, the walls of her backdoor a snug and warm fit. Each spurt made them shift, spasms wandering up her spine like animating pulses. Splashes of her pussy juices trickled down his legs. “M-… more,” she gasped. “My distant love… more… fill me for all the orgies I miss…”
The begging made his orgasm surge again. Swinging softly back and forth, she coaxed another spurt of thick white from his bottomless balls. A deep, laughing hum reverberated from Lydia’s throat. Every drop of cum prolonged her own ecstasy. She kept gyrating her ass to milk him.
“On your back,” Lydia ordered, when a modicum of control returned to her limbs.
“What if I don’t want to?” John responded cheekily, prompting the auburn-haired royal to roll her eyes. “Alright, alright,” he gave in immediately. Lydia was one of the few that he let order him around in the bedroom. Mostly because it was a mutual affair between them. Besides the enjoyment she derived from all three of her holes, Lydia was fairly regular in her sexual tastes. A little bit of normalcy in his sea of dominations. ‘Well, as normal as it can get,’ he thought, as he settled on his back on the bed.
Once seated comfortably, Lydia was right back to moving her hips in seductive circles. A little bit of heat snuck under her tone, when she said, “Your services are no longer required.”
“A-as you wish,” Lorelei gasped and sat up. She gave a longing look at where John and Lydia were connected. She folded her trembling hands in front of her midriff, clenched the fingers tight to prevent any instincts of having them wander off anywhere. Within a few breaths, she had stood up and relaxed. “If you require further assistance, please call for me. I’ll be in the living room.”
Lorelei walked away with a swing to her strut that even a seasoned model would have marvelled at. Every swing of her hips was another movement of the hypnotizing pendulum that kept both John and Lydia in its sway. Only once she was out of the room did the queen remember to resume the motions of her own hips.
“Did you instruct her to increase her allure?” Lydia asked.
“No, she’s been picking these things up on her own. I’m not even sure whether it’s a conscious effort,” John responded. The strut was just one of the many subtle gestures that Lorelei was doing these days that inflamed his desires. From the way she was sitting to how she picked things up, it all had that needful grace that was only emphasized by how conservative she dressed. “I don’t know whether Lorelei has a brazenly seductive bone in her body.”
“Do not underestimate the lengths a needy woman will go to, my love.” Lydia smiled over her shoulder. “Subtle efforts, but efforts nonetheless.”
John shook his head. “Make obvious efforts and you’ll get what you want very quickly. Men are stupid.”
“I was speaking in general. Seldom did I have a problem formalizing what I want.” She rose all the way up and then plopped back down. “Be-sides,” she moaned, “have I not acquired a man who can read all my subtleties?”
“I suppose that is my purpose.” John traced up the depression of her spine. A low moan echoed from her throat. He suppressed the urge to put his hands around her neck. ‘Wrong woman,’ he reminded his body. Instead, he wandered back down and took hold of her hips again. While the angle did not pronounce her assets, with a body like hers, that wasn’t needed for every motion to be alluring.
Lydia laughed, in a way that she only did for him and his. With a wave of her index finger, she closed the bedroom door. The lock turned with a loud click. The Gamer braced himself for a feverish increase in the pace. Instead, she retained the leisurely gyrating of her hips.
“My love, how are you in the Raid?”
“Making steady progress…?” he responded with mild uncertainty. This felt like it was going somewhere.
“So, there is no chance that Jane will return to listen to us. Good.” Lydia suddenly stopped and turned as much as she could. A greyish blue, she beheld him with her brilliant eyes. “How are you progressing on the rings?”
“Making steady progress,” John answered with more certainty this time. “I managed to make contact with Brokk and Sindri and we’re talking about what they could do with Celexiums.”
“You contacted the smiths of Draupnir?” Lydia shook her head. “Your extravagance knows no bounds. You do know that a simple ring would do?”
“No – it would not.” John’s voice was beyond firm. “Only the best for my girlfriend.” He brushed up the inwards curve of Lydia’s waist. “For all of my haremettes.”
The queen sighed heavily. “Are you certain a perfect ring would be superior to alleviating the torture of waiting?” She shot him a judgemental look. “You are not using this as an excuse to avoid impregnating Eliana, are you?”
John furrowed his eyebrows. He sat up, to wrap his arms around her. Leaning against him, the queen sighed again. “What brought this on?” he asked.
“You’re going to join the Divided Gates in the coming months,” Lydia came straight out with it. “Luna let me know that Romulus has begun making the arrangements for the meeting in earnest. The Mandate of Heaven has responded. It won’t be long now until you’re a leader of a nation of equal status to my own.” She gave him a long and deep stare. “You will find no greater opportunity to make our relationship ironclad in the eyes of the German nobility.”
“To propose when I ascend to your rank, in a meeting Romulus organized…” John mumbled. He understood. The thought had crossed his mind. “The ring has to be perfect, Lydia. Not just for her, but for-“
“My love,” Lydia interrupted him suddenly. “Understand the depths of those two words. I will never break with you. I have sworn every oath to myself and whatever deity may listen. The ring is a formality. You could carve it from driftwood and I would accept it. Jane will not mind.”
“You were always the more utilitarian of you two,” John said. “She would certainly mind.”
“Not enough to-“ Lydia stopped herself when he placed a kiss on her shoulder.
“The ring is not just for her, Lydia,” he whispered. “It’s not for all of you either. It’s for me. I cannot give to her something that’s less incredible than the love I feel for her. I would never forgive myself. This is something I only get one shot at.” He gave her an apologetic look. “You’ve chosen to prioritize Rex Germaniae over living with us; if I can’t propose to you at the optimal political moment, that’s a consequence of your preferences, not mine.”
Lydia pressed her lips together, until the red drained from their flawless form. The colour of her eyes shifted between light and deep grey, from steel to graphite. “Disappointing,” she hissed. The Gamer did not respond, and with another grunt of displeasure, she let her head rest on his shoulder. “My love…” she whispered, “…I shall not chide you for your selfishness, as my request is selfish as well.”
“But…?” the Gamer asked.
“No but.” The red returned to Lydia’s lips. “I wish for an outcome. If it does not happen, then it will not.”
“It might still.” John touched her midriff and felt her shiver in response to the gentle motions of his fingers. He stopped above the Lover’s Will mark, trailed the heart shape at its centre. “Months are an odd measure of time. They can pass by so swiftly if all happens as expected and not at all if there’s a great many things to do.” He closed his eyes and took in Lydia’s scent of citrus shampoo. “I don’t want to put anything off. Not getting married, not becoming a father… but I need to do this properly.”
“I suppose you would not be the man I love if that was not your stance on it.” Lydia pressed her back more intensely against his chest. “Lay back down, John. There’s much you can still give me that does not require complicated talks.” There was mirth in her voice, an attempt to return to their previous eroticism.
John could not follow immediately. “You’re not angry about this?”
“I’m disappointed,” Lydia gave the worst answer. “I cannot help it, my love. It is unusual for you to not meet my expectations. Your reasoning is sound, however, and so I shall carry no grudge. Perhaps you will yet surprise me.” She scratched him behind the ear and he opened his eyes again. He was faced with the weak smile of his gorgeous lover. “To Abyssals, marriage is a ritual of diminished worth. To Rex Germaniae, it was a tool of alliances first and foremost. The peasants copied their lords and were inspired by what the mundanes did. It never acquired quite the spiritual weight it has in the mundane world… but I still remember what it was like to grow up a mundane human. Even weak, little Lydia, who robbed to keep her father afloat, remembers dreaming of the day she would tie the knot with a man that would save her from her destitution.”
“You are far from destitute,” John whispered, “and even further from being weak or little.”
“And yet the fantasy remains mundane,” Lydia whispered. “Perhaps it will be for the better that the opportunity is missed. Perhaps I can marry as Lydia and not as the queen of steel.”
“You’re both.”
“…Would you let a part of me go on displeased, then?” Lydia asked and immediately shook her head. “An unfair question, we have already arrived at our impasse. Forget I asked, my love, and lay down. There’s much I still wish to experience, while I have you to myself.”
John did let her push him down this time. He returned a smile, but when she turned her head and resumed riding him, it dropped. Would he let a part of her go on displeased?
He would have to work that out.