The Gamer Chapter 1478 – 27 Days of Preparation 31 – Harem and Haremettes (Patreon)

John looked at a photo on his smartphone. He tried to look at it, anyway, but the claws that kept swiping at his hands made that difficult. Barely, he kept his phone out of the reach of the talons, occasionally sneaking peeks at brown hair, brown feathers and high cheekbones.

Ultimately, he skipped back a few cushions on the large couch. The leather squeaked, as did the lady of the night, her usual dignity entirely subsumed by the need to set after him. Before she could crawl over on wings and knees, Aclysia plopped down between them. Hailey immediately took the unoccupied left.

With the necessary distance between them, John raised up his phone and compared the harpy on the screen and the harpy on the couch. Coincidentally, they made the exact same expression: a blushing scowl on their attractive faces. The same face, about ten years apart. The high cheekbones had been further amplified by the passage of time. Dark colours replaced shades of brown, pale the tanned tinge of her Mediterranean complexion, but the brunette in the photo and the woman before him were very much the same person.

“Your mom didn’t lie, ya did have pink feath’rs,” Hailey drawled.

This was past the ‘feather bleaching phase’ that Nightingale’s mother had mentioned during the harpy’s birthday. Just because she had stopped did not mean all the old feathers had been replaced yet. Mixed in with the brown of her gown was pale pink. It did have that cute, mismatched look that only young people could pull off.

“Why did she send you these?” Nightingale whined.

Aclysia answered that question, “Because I requested them. I would like to expand on my photo collection.” She leaned onto John’s shoulder, while he swiped through the album. Year upon year of the woman Nightingale had been, and by most accounts still was, trailed by under his fingers. Hailey softly giggled when they hit the truly pink-feathered phase of the bird lady’s history. That was just a little before they hit an image of Yolande in a blue dress, surrounded by several women, many of them other harpies, that wore the same outfit.

“School?” John guessed, from the structure in the background and the uniformity.

A long sigh preceded the answer. “Yes, patriarch,” her answer was a surrender to her situation. “Kalesma Seirínas - Siren’s Song Boarding School, a faculty on a Greek island, designed for the educational needs of harpies.”

John had a difficult time imagining Nightingale going to school. It was slightly easier with Yolande, but even a brunette harpy was an odd image in a classroom. “Did you have writing utensils on the floor?” he asked the first question that came to mind.

“The tables were lower, but not that low,” the harpy responded.

“I assume there was a focus on a singing curriculum?” Aclysia asked.

“A common misconception. Song classes are offered, and I took them, but the name of the school is inspired by Greek myth. The school claims to be located on the island that once tempted the Odyssey. A total of 17 islands claim that heritage.”

John went through a couple more photos, before he hit that dividing line of between and before her 18th birthday. Fundamentally there was nothing wrong looking at photos of when she was a kid, but it did feel off when he was naked and a certain country gal had grabbed his cock. Therefore, he put the phone down at that moment. “Since we’re going through stereotypes: how was the libido situation in the school?”

“Usual, I would say,” Nightingale responded, her gaze straying to the manhood Hailey was so leisurely stroking. “An all girl’s school with private quarters provided. What lewdness there was, was contained. A dildo in every bathroom for blowjob practice.”

“’Usual’,” John said in air quotes. Harpies were an inherently more sexual species, so that tilt in perception was expected.

“You used to masturbate in the school bathroom, Master,” Aclysia reminded him.

Now it was John’s turn to feel the heat rise to his cheeks. “Yeah, well, that wasn’t exactly usual and I’m not proud of it,” he declared immediately. His Libido had always been far above average and, for all the terrible things he could say about his time in Ashcroft, the eye candy had been too good to ignore. “The real blessing is that no one ever caught me doing it.”

“Same.” Hailey’s casual announcement had three heads turn her direction. “What? Ya thought lil’ young me was a chaste gal before I met ya?” The dirty blonde smirked and curved a finger into her erotically swollen pussy. The flawlessly smooth skin glistened and the little puff of her labia jiggled as she matched the rhythm of her hand job.

Hailey’s Libido had been 13 when he first met her. That wasn’t intensely above average, but it was still above average. Masturbating in a restroom was probably among the more common sins for those of the horny persuasion.

“You went to a Christian private school, right?” John refreshed his memory.

“Mh-hm,” Hailey hummed in confirmation. The speed of her handjob accelerated. Her hand continued to match. The tanned, green-eyed mechanic’s breasts kept rising and falling with increasing intensity. Eventually the soft spasms and moans made the enormous mounds quiver. Sight, sound, and grip brought both of them close to the edge.

Refusing to cum over himself, he swiftly stood up. Hailey continued to masturbate him, accelerating to a feverish pace. A simple grip of her hair and he could have plunged down her throat. Just sputtering his cum all over her had a special charm, though.

They finished within the same second. Hailey tensed and stretched, her nubile body reaching the peak of its attractiveness as wave after wave of delight washed through her curves. Simultaneously, the thick ropes of seed adorned her curves, tanned and lightly tanned alike. Ten times the average load spurted all over her face and tits, running down the tan lines to her defined midriff and trembling thighs.

Hailey let out a series of deep, satisfied coos. Fingers slipped out of her, only to become sticky with the cum she scooped off the Lover’s Will mark. Immediately, she plunged the white-painted digits back into herself. A loud scream escaped the creampie addict, even this little triggering her love for having his seed inside her.

Leaning over, Aclysia extended her tongue and licked the last few drops of cum off the tip of John’s cock, assuring none of it dripped on the floor. Some of the ropes did stain the leather. A reason for John to remain standing and for Aclysia to withdraw a towel from her inventory. Hailey went into a short-lived masturbation frenzy, finishing herself off a second time before returning to coherency.

“May the Lord forgive me for sayin’ his name in vain, but Jesus, I love how much ya cum,” Hailey gasped, post-orgasmic trembles still travelling through her. She kept spreading his spunk all over herself, turning herself into a debauched art piece in her journey to rub as much of it into her cunt as possible.

The sight was too much for John to not stay hard and needy. Taking one step to the left was all he needed to have his cock sandwiched between the black and pink lips of Nightingale and Aclysia. The tongues of the monster girls soon extended, coiling around the full length of his shaft in a double-helix of wet appreciation. The tips massaged his glans religiously. His hands ran through their hair, black and wild, white and straight, while he was subjected to this inhuman delight. “”Mashtahr,”” they gasped past extended tongues, nuzzling against his crotch.

Hailey’s hips shot off the couch, the sight bringing her to a swift, third orgasm. An intense one, courtesy of her unrelentingly continuing fingers. The dance of intense spasms was always a beautiful one. Her shoulders trembled, her back curved, her heels barely managed to stay beyond the edge of the cushion her round ass hovered above. Hazy green eyes focused the scene, her tongue outstretched, her white-decorated curves arched higher still – then something snapped. Her moans turned into screams, her feverish self-pleasuring stopped, and pussy juice gushed against her hand and through the air, soiling the couch, table and floor.

John was too enticed to mind the mess. Rapidly, he withdrew from the venerating coil of the two tongues. They drew back into the mouths of the submissive women, who kept them open and ready for him to make a quick choice. Now with both hands clawing into her hair, John pulled Nightingale over his cock like she was an exquisite sleeve. An object of quality and permanence – but a tool nonetheless.

“Glack! Glack! Glack!” The repeated sound of his cock slamming down the throat-pussy of the harpy filled the room, underlined by the renewed and beginning masturbation of the two other women in the room. Nightingale’s eyes rolled up, her plumage puffed and settled with each tremble that made her balanced butt wiggle. Slippery love juices lubricated the folds of her throat.

One more time, John plunged forwards. He came with the casual certainty of a dom proud of a job always done well. Each spurt of seed down the goddess’ throat had her tense and gush. The walls of her throat gripped him like a vice, keeping him in place until he had spilled every last drop in her.

‘God bless harpies,’ John thought, when her body finally allowed him to pull out. ‘Still can’t believe evolution produced this.’

When he was out of Nightingale’s upper hole, the erotic mood in the room simmered down. There was a moment where John threatened to be pulled into a perpetual cycle of getting turned on by the masturbating women and the women masturbating to whoever he was pounding at that moment. Once he made it clear he wouldn’t stick his dick into any of them immediately, matters were finished off.

With just a few words, they decided to move things from the living room to the bath. Fun as being nasty was in the most, Hailey’s state was moving from hot to just sticky and it was in everyone’s interest to avoid the crusty stage. Aclysia, similarly, had some spots to clean.

Ten minutes later, the weaponized maid joined them in the jacuzzi. John picked the conversation back up from there. “So, you just masturbated in the bathroom of the Christian school?” he asked.

“About five times tot’l.” Hailey counted on her fingers. “Did it three times in one week, then another time the week aft’r, then again a month later but kinda felt bad about it and didn’t manage to finish. Hormones make ya do stupid stuff. How often did you do it?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” John sunk a little deeper into the jacuzzi. That wasn’t a number, but it sufficed as an answer for the country gal.

“Good that ya can’t anymore, hon’.”

John hadn’t been capable of masturbating for so long, it was getting difficult to remember what it felt like. “Luckily, I have so many relationships that I really never need to,” he said with a smile. Admittedly, considering the superhuman nymphomania spread across all his women, it was incredibly unlikely that there was ever going to be a time where he, even if he was just with one of them, would want sex and not get it. The same was true in reverse.

“That does remind me…” Aclysia stopped in the process of giving Nightingale a sponge bath to turn to Hailey, “…it has now been long over a month. I am interested. You are one of the few women around for which this state of relationship is alien. How do you review your experience as a haremette?”

A truly interesting question, especially for John. The two of them were the only truly mundane. Some of the other haremettes had grown up in households unfavourable of the practice of polygyny/polygamy, like Lee, but none had truly been raised entirely away from it. Lydia was the closest third and she had been pulled into the Abyss in the years of one’s life one started to consider sexual relationships. Eliana was a distant fourth, her abusive upbringing entirely warped by the rest of her terrible history.

The country gal played with the surface of the bubbling water, while she thought about it. “I like it a lot, obviously,” she led with that. “It’s still kinda weird and I don’t know half of ya as much as I would want to.” Nightingale could nod to that. The latter additions of the harem had an obviously harder time to integrate themselves. Another factor that made further additions down the line less and less likely. “It’s kinda great to always have some gal around to talk to, ‘specially since we’re all… sailin’ down the same river.” She gave John’s marked fingers a poignant look. Then she shrugged. “Ain’t what I had in mind, but this has everythin’ I wanted and more. Security, financial and otherwise, free time, a good future, all of that.” She cracked a smile. “Ain’t like I had never thought about scorin’ with a married man.”

John’s forehead turned wrinkly, but that only lasted half a second. It was one of the more common arguments for polygyny that women, statistically, were more attracted to married men. John was essentially married twenty-times over, even if he had yet to speak his vows during any ceremony.

“What stopped you?” John asked, always curious to learn more about his girls.

“I might not be a good follower of the Lord, or Lady, but I ain’t temptin’ a married man and I certainly ain’t gettin’ with the kind of guy who’d exchange for a younger model down the line,” Hailey presented a spiritual and material solution.

“Not that age is a problem for you at this stage,” Aclysia remarked, resuming the careful cleaning of Nightingale’s pale skin. “Would you like to add anything?”

“I agree, broadly,” the goddess hummed. “This is beyond the expectations I had for a great harem. My mother always said that ‘a lucky harpy finds a man that has a matriarch and not a woman.’”

“I suppose that is an extension of the harpy tendency of being second wives?” the Gamer asked. “It’s probably quite common to have to find a couple and then convince them to open up to additional partners.”

“Women,” Nightingale specified. “Harpies aren’t part of harems with more than one man. We do not accept anything short of a patriarch’s seed.”

John wasn’t quite sure if the generalization applied to the entirety of her sub-race of the species, but with how few harpies they were and magical species being what they were, she probably was right. To disagree, he would have needed to survey harpies and he wouldn’t bother with that. “In any case, I can’t imagine that it’s hard to convince the man, so I guess it’s a difference between the guy having an accepting matriarch or a woman aiming for monogamy?”

“Precisely. The male-oriented saying would be… hm… it translates poorly from Greek.” Nightingale considered for a few seconds. “All patriarchs are made, few are born?”

“Few men naturally have the confidence and ability to have a harem, so even the most talented need to grow into the role, I get that too.” John nodded.

“And you grew splendidly, Master,” Aclysia purred.