The Gamer Chapter 1445 – Her Time [Layla POV] (Patreon)

Layla sat on the bench, a hand in her panties as she drooled from both upper and lower lips. All of them – ALL OF THEM – were in one location. All of his women… well, not all of his women. Layla was right here and that was all manners of screwed up and why did it have to feel so good, it felt so good, she couldn’t walk, she couldn’t even keep thinking, it was so much, just so much, he was so much, he was everywhere. He was there, all of him was there. His essence was carved all into them, all of the marked haremettes. The privileged little cunts probably didn’t know how good they had it. 21 were marked. 1 more, a similar and yet infinitely different aura, faded in and out of this realm. 1 Layla sat on the bench, a hand in her panties as she drooled from her upper and lower lips.

All so close together they were like a beacon. A tremendous prismatic furnace that engulfed the entire palace in a spectral sphere. Gold and purple swirled all throughout. Layla could feel the aura with her entire body. His air filled her lungs. His Guild Hall supported her body. In a way, wasn’t he cuddling her, since she was sitting right on his property?

The thought and the flare of energy was too much. Under the midnight moon, Layla’s hips bucked up and she utterly drenched her underwear with wave after wave of squirting juices. She screamed incoherently into the lonely forest – into his forest – while her thick thighs – his thick thighs -  became soaked in glistening fluids.

“MMMMHHHMOOOOAAAAARRRRRRRR!” she screamed, incapable and entirely unwilling to stop her fingers. She barely made it onto her legs and stumbled forwards. Mindlessly forwards, into the forest. Every step that brought her closer to him was the correct step. She fell against a tree and an immediate image of him grabbing her from behind surfaced. She dropped her panties and let him inside. His aura flooded her like his imagined self flooded her womb – his womb.

Layla stumbled further forwards, until the weight of their aura was just too much and she collapsed to her knees. One helpless bundle of breedable hips and lovable dedication, Layla pushed her fingers into her throat as deep as possible. Every time she came, and there was no end to it, she repeated in her brain, ‘John loves blowjobs – you love giving blowjobs. John loves blowjobs – you love giving blowjobs. Your throat is made for John’s cock, your throat is made for John’s cock, John’s cock is made for your throat. John is made for your throat. John is made for you. John is made for me. John is for me. John is mine. John’s mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.’

Each repetition had the brunette gushing. She kept fingering her mouth, training herself to be a good little throat slut. No gag reflex. No gag reflex. None of that bullshit. When she finally had him down her throat and her body did as much as suggest he didn’t belong in any of her holes, she’d choke herself on his perfect, fat cock until she died or was a proper haremette.

Another surge of pleasure had her howl into the forest like a bitch in heat. Which she was. A Newman breeding bitch in heat. The only cure was immediate impregnation. Did she not deserve that? Of course she did. She was young, she had thick thighs, she had a nice ass, she was crazy – crazy for him! Those were all the prerequisites for John to pump a load of cum into her nubile body, right?!

Depraved hazel eyes, dull with obsession and need, stared off into the distance. Face down, ass up, Layla masturbated in the forest as she drooled from both upper and lower lips. She was squirting and squirting again, marking her territory. All of him would belong to her when she belonged to him. And she did belong to him. It was just a matter of formality until all of the haremettes accepted her like her sisters in wise obsession already had.

Layla rubbed her pretty pink pussy at rapid speed. Panting, she overstimulated herself to the point she could not think anymore. There was only the prismatic glory of his aura and that of the haremettes that had a spark of his inside them. The mark. That wonderful mark. She would have it. Aclysia and Claire would let her have it. John would let her have it. There was no other way.

Eyeballs rolled up, Layla experienced one more orgasm. All there was in her mind was him. All there was in her sense of smell, touch, and sight was him. All of it was stimulated by the overpowering perception of her aura sense. He was driving her crazy. Spasming and trembling, wiggling her bubble butt in the air, she remained there. All was electrical torrents and light. So much light.

The hyper-orgasm faded, allowing her just a moment to imagine. To imagine him finding her. Taking her adorable butt home so she could take her rightful place. Then she was filled with every drop of cum she deserved, pounded until she could barely move. Once he had slated his lust for her (for however short that could last), she would grab a fellow haremette and allow her graciously to lick the excess seed out of her cunt. Over and over she would be thanked. Then he would pump her full all over again and again and aga-

He was gone.

“He’s gone…? He’s gone! HE’S GONE?!” All of the aura that had just enveloped her was swallowed up and now she was just a lonely girl in the middle of a forest that was fucking fantastic because it was his BUT HE WAS NO LONGER THERE.

Screaming like a banshee, she clenched two handfuls of leaf litter in her hands. She pounded the ground with her fists, while the dried material was brought alight. It burned light blue, the colour of undefined mana, and scattered not a single amber. The raw anger was an ocean she could not hold within. The fire spread out from wherever she slammed the ground.

It was the sound of Sentry Golems approaching that snapped her out of it. In a hurry, she suppressed the flames alongside her aggression. The surface of her aura trembled, then changed, retook the usual false appearance.

“He’s supposed to be gone,” she reminded herself, her voice as dead as she felt on the inside. “How can he just leave his woman here? That beautiful, wonderful, dreamy man that I want to have inside me! Asshole!” Layla rubbed her arms, recognizing with horror that she had chaffed her arms during her fit. Audibly she grit her teeth, about to jump the Sentinel Golem that was scanning the environment for anything that was off. It would find nothing. “Stupid bitch, don’t damage his property.”

Layla would have slapped herself, if that hadn’t made it worse. Swallowing, she tried to get full control over her anger. She failed. Of course she failed. She was but a maiden in love and her man had left her behind. Absence made the heart grow fonder, they said. Sounded like something stupid people with lesser partners would say. Who would want to be away from John?

“This was planned, this was planned, calm down, Layla, Claire told you this would happen,” the perfect little stalker mumbled to herself and walked back the way she had stumbled. To take the road would be faster than to navigate the trees and climb the artificial little mountains. She came across her discarded panties and left them there. Panties were a hindrance where she was going to spend the next three days.

It was easier to think when she wasn’t constantly at the very edge of an orgasm so intense she lost muscle control. Layla was aware of the state she was in. The rim of her skirt was drenched. Every other stride was so large that anyone could see her glistening, hairless cunt from dozens of metres away. Her top was totally out of whack. Her hair was a mess. As she walked, she pulled a twig out of the wavy, hazel cascade. Arms and legs were scraped, her face dirty. She looked like she had been masturbating in the forest. Of course that wasn’t quite accurate. She had gotten her brains scrambled by his superior presence; the masturbating was just a minor addition to that pleasure she sought on instinct.

Ah, well, people that saw her were welcome to misunderstand. Who cared? None of them were John and therefore they did not matter. Not that she expected to run into anyone.

The great advantage of midnight strolls was that no one was around. Whoever was still active during this hour either was in the Bae Circle, some pub elsewhere in the Hudson Barrier, or working in the Production/Industry areas of the Guild Hall. In other words, they were all far away from the south of the Guild Hall and the entrance to the Palace there.

Layla had a skip in her step as she made it across the bridge. The Sentinel Golems were the only real hurdle on her path these days and they had never been difficult to deal with. Very few spiders still hung around the place. Six, if Layla counted right. Claire couldn’t keep the others active while she was inside another Illusion Barriers. Six should be enough to tell her if anything unwarranted happened while she was gone. In an emergency, Layla would tell her. She’d make sure no one that did not belong in the Palace would get in there!

“Hi there, little friend,” Layla said when she found the largest of those six sitting exactly where Claire had said it would be. The black and red arachnid was the perfectly unnerving mixture of a tarantula and a black widow. All shiny and chitinous, but large and bulky too, with very pronounced fangs. It was the kind of spider that would have made many, many people immediately run in the opposite direction.

The dinner plate-sized arachnid raised a front leg and waved back. Layla squealed at the adorable little thing. She had no love for spiders, but she did have a love for parts of Claire since she was her sister in true love. Doubly so since even parts of Claire knew to aid her in her quest to get John what he deserved: herself.

The eight-legged guide skittered along the wall and Layla excitedly followed. This was not the usual route! Had Aclysia succeeded in getting that tunnel installed? ‘Oh, Claire was so right that she could be trusted!’ Layla thought. The absolute joy of having two women around that knew the absolute truth of John deserving MORE.

They were in one of the many semi-useless hallways that cut through the white star fort underneath the Palace. Layla had scouted all of them out and all of them had only served to get from one side to the other until Nightingale and Hailey’s personal areas had been put into the fortress. Now most of them only served to get around. There was so much space down here for her John to create all kinds of fun facilities.

The spider eventually stopped and tapped its leg on what seemed to be a random wall segment. It suddenly parted, revealing a corridor behind. Layla followed the spider through corridors of dull grey and up a flight of stairs. There, she found herself in a small chamber. A single table was in it, several flasks on top of it filled with red liquids and a couple with translucent ones. Next to them was a glass form, the kind commonly used for casserole. Additionally, there was a letter. The spider skittered up to it, clearly expecting Layla to read it.

‘Dear Layla Viorica,

First of all, I am quite saddened that we cannot have our second meeting today. It has been an honour to get to know you. I must admit that Claire’s first mention of you had me sceptical, but after seeing the dedication you have for ~~my John~~ our John, I am in full support of your covert operations. I will not tell you to learn to withstand his magnificence as quickly as possible, as you will need no motivation to do so. Truth be told, I am envious of your ability to have him fill you so completely. Alas, I am blessed with a mental connection to him, and that is a value in and of itself.’

“Boasting bitch,” Layla hissed before continuing on.

‘I am sure that must sound boasting to you. I apologize. It is difficult not to swoon for any connection one has to ~~my~~ our John.’

Layla felt slightly bad now. Only slightly, though. If she knew better, Aclysia shouldn’t have said it. “I forgive you, though,” the pretty little stalker mumbled. How could she not.

‘To the point. On the table you will find several bottles of acid (the clear ones). You are required to melt your phone to proceed. We do not want Scarlett to find out before it is time for you to reveal yourself and it is only a matter of time until she discovers even scarce digital communications. For this reason, all our communications from here on out will happen via notes in this room and this room alone. This minimizes our discovery risk from Nia and Lorelei.’

Casually, Layla poured the acid over her phone as she kept reading. Who needed that thing anyway? She had researched anything she could about John on the Abyss Auction already. There was nothing else it was good for.

‘In this room, you will also find a few health potions (the red ones). I understand that being in love with ~~my John~~ our John can be taxing on a regular body. Additionally, I understand that being away from him will cause distress and mood swings. As you know, you should leave all of his property in tip-top condition as you roam these hallowed halls. That includes yourself.’

‘Aclysia is so smart!’ Layla thought as she downed one of the potions. The scrapes and aches were gone in an instant and the dehydration that she had felt right with it. She had never known that health potions could do that! Must have been a brilliant discovery by Delicia. Only fellow haremettes would be genius enough for such things.

‘After you follow these instructions, the spider will show you the rest of the way up the tunnel. You will emerge in my apartment. Please use its facilities and ONLY its facilities to eat, sleep, and clean yourself. I will make sure there will be no traces of you left behind. You are tempted to sleep in the harem bed or otherwise enter the apartment. I will have to inform you that I locked it, as I do not believe I could explain away the unavoidable stains.’

“Frigid cocksleeve,” Layla cussed. “That’s MY BED! You can’t keep me out of MY BED!”

‘I have, however, unlocked the Sex Dungeon and all its commonly used toys. They are self-cleaning, so use them and the room at your discretion. You will further find a selection of them in the third shelf on the left in a brown velvet bag. You can remove these toys from the premises and keep them after your time is up. Please use them to prepare yourself for your owner. I must remind that being capable of deepthroating his cock is MANDATORY.’

“She’s so thoughtful. Perfect sister in a harem to have,” Layla swooned.

‘The Sentinel Golems and Trashpexus have all been set to the agreed on routes. I could sadly not disable them without further alerting Master or any of the haremettes. You have three days.

As a final thing: I have decided to leave you a couple of worn shirts that should please you. They, too, are yours to keep. Please return them after they have lost their scent.

The greatest love and kind regards,

Aclysia.’

“Aclysia is the best,” Layla squeaked and turned the paper around. She wrote, ‘Thank you!’ about fifty times, then followed the spider upstairs. Barely, she kept herself from driving straight at the vacuum-sealed bag of worn clothes that were prominently left for her in the spartan apartment of the Artificial Spirit. First, Layla took a shower. A basic shower, to make sure none of the forest dirt was still on her.

Then she unsealed the bag and put on the clothes.

Immediately she was in heaven. The black shirt smelled so intensely of him and of various women that she knew he had had sex in it. Not that she had ever come across an item in his ownership that he hadn’t had sex in. The shirt was so big, the open for the neck revealed a good amount of shoulder and it went further down than her skirt had.

Layla squeaked, immediately growing wet again. She grabbed the shirt with two hands and buried her nose in it. The smell was just so perfect. She could just lose herself in it, curl up on the floor, masturbate feverishly, and occasionally crawl over to the pantry to make sure she stayed alive.

“Sex Dungeon!” she reminded herself and dashed towards the door. She knew exactly where she had to go and Trashpexus, that accursed clam jammer, wouldn’t be around to annoy her for a long time! Time to start training all of her holes with properly sized tools.

She stormed into the room, took in the aroma. The candles, the tasteful selection of incense, the open display of erotic intent, it was all exactly what she had imagined. A den for him to dominate and for other haremettes to be dominated. Layla immediately found the bag, pulled a dildo out and marvelled at it when she realized this was to scale. Immediately it became her world. Even absent of the man himself, his aura lingered intensely in these walls. It was close to his inner sanctum (which she SHOULD have access to, but she would deal with that for now) and the air was pregnant with memories of him.

Basking in the toy and atmosphere, Layla’s body tingled with the swift rise of an orgasm. It wasn’t the torrential experience of his direct aura. Perhaps that was for the best. A small bit of exposure to build her tolerance. Sitting quivering on the floor in his shirt, Layla slowly pushed the toy into her throat. There was that accursed gag reflex! Never had she hated anything about her body more than at that moment. If she could have found whatever part of her brain was responsible for it, she would have personally cracked open her skull and pulled it out. What kind of useless function prevented a woman from choking on her man’s cock? The absolute audacity of biology. Again the mantra echoed in her mind.

‘John loves blowjobs – you love giving blows. John loves blowjobs – you love giving blowjobs. John’s cock is made for your throat. Your throat is made for John’s cock. Your pretty face is made for John’s cock. Your lips are made to wrap around John’s cock. Your mouth is made for John’s cock. You are made for John’s cock. You are made for John. I am made for John. I’m for John. I’m John’s. I’m his. His. His. His. His.’ Layla had her first orgasm of many, after the logic chain had run its loop.

Three days to spend in her home as she pleased, how wonderful.