Collide Gamer

John had said he would be less busy as an emperor than he would be as a president and he meant that. The only hurdle was that he was still not out of the difficulties posed by the aftermath of the war.

He had a meeting with the leadership of Fusion in thirty minutes. It was likely to take up most of his day, covering a sweeping range of topics that needed hashing out so they could transition out of a wartime state of emergency and back into civilian matters. Internal borders required redrawing, matters of receiving and integrating the new Abyssals needed covering, and the political system needed restructuring around the changed state of sovereignty.

Before he headed there, however, John had some personal matters to at least look into.

Ehtra followed the Gamer with a two step delay. His secretary held an electronic clipboard. That was to say: she was holding a tablet with a casing that made it appear somewhat like a clipboard. She had simply showed up with it one day, likely acquiring it from Scarlett. When he had asked about it, she had responded, in her usual, bashfully annoyed manner, that it was a modern part of the proper secretary uniform.

John did not disagree, especially since she was using it regularly. At this very moment, she clicked her tongue in a particular way that let him know she had received an email she did not like. There was a whole system to the way the First of Hatred made her disdain audible with her sneers and tongue clicks alone.

They arrived at the correct door. It had been turned from just another entrance in the building to a remarkably black board of wood. Truly, it was painted so darkly that it let barely any light go at all, making it appear flat in a three-dimensional world, despite the decorative carvings on it.

John knocked.

He heard an orgasmic shout.

“Enter,” the owner of the apartment spoke.

John pushed down the handle and stepped into the lightless room. There were three women in the room, which was two more than John had expected and yet he was not surprised about any of the three. He was surprised that two of them were on the floor though.

The one that first grabbed his attention was Layla. “H----iiiinggghhhnnnnn- John! Jooooohnnnnnn!”

It was intrinsically hot to see a woman, especially one this attractive, squirting through drenched panties while shouting his name. The stalker’s attempt to stand up died in its infancy, her wobbling legs too busy supporting the bucking of her hips.

‘The thighs on that brunette,’ John thought, making the mistake of really drinking in the view of Layla in her pleated skirt and tight top. He only remembered she had similar powers to Lorelei when his direct attention delivered Layla from being able to at least shout his name to gargled noises of boundless bliss.

John forced himself not to study the outline of her puffy pussy through the soaked underwear. The second he looked elsewhere, Layla’s pleasure went from incomprehensible to intense, which was enough of a difference for her brain to kick in and pull on the ultimate emergency cord. One second Layla was writhing in orgasm, the next she was out cold.

‘It’s going to be a minute before I can talk to her,’ John reckoned.

The second visitor in the chamber, the one not on the floor, stood up. “H-hello,” Lucifrena greeted with a bit of an awkward wave. “I’ll just… put her somewhere else.”

“Appreciated,” John thanked the blonde, dark-skinned angel.

Lucifrena picked Layla up and carried her to one of the backrooms. What had previously been a one-room apartment had been expanded now that Lyndell was a permanent resident in the Palace. A luxury that the primordial entity did not appear to have much care for.

Lyndell was naked except for an oversized, black t-shirt. John would have asked if it was one of his, had it not been for the big ‘Blackness is my Mood’ text on it. He would have cringed out of his skin if he had worn such a shirt unironically.

Lyndell could pull it off. She had the forlorn air about her that made it entirely unironic and the permanent presence of the black, veil-like growth from the top of her head added to the goth flair as much as the ‘tear trails’ beneath her eyes did. The shirt stopped atop her hip bones, the loose fabric lying on her balanced curves, leaving little about her medium breasts to the imagination. The neck hole was so big, one of her shoulders poked out.

For some reason, her just lying here, her glistening wet pussy exposed, was almost as hot as Layla cumming her brains out. There was a sinfulness to her lethargic verticality that John could barely put into words. Messy of hair and lazy of motion, she tugged at his heartstrings like only an attractive woman could. It was made all the more alluring by the fact that he knew she could obliterate a city block whenever she felt like it.

Instead, she was lying on the stone floor, turning the knob on the remote control for the vibrator that poked out of her pussy, like a failure of a woman.

“Can I talk to you without you masturbating?” John requested.

“I want to associate your presence with physical pleasure.”

“You’ll learn that association by my effort.”

His flirtatious response was met with an immediate shutdown of the buzzing toy. Lyndell rolled onto her stomach, keeping her grey-in-black eyes on him the entire time as she got up. John was temporarily distracted by the sparking of a butt plug between the cheeks of her perfect ass. “Have I been granted permission to join the harem?”

“Not quite yet,” John had to disappoint her, “but we talked about it and nothing came up against it. We believe it appropriate to give everyone the chance to interact with you more before we make the definitive call.”

“Perfect.” Lyndell’s drawled answer had a hint of song to it. The kind of song played at Hot Topic during October, but a song all the same.

“So… what were you doing here?” John had to ask.

“Training.” Tʜe source of this ᴄontent ɪs 𝓷𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓵•𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑒•𝙣𝙚𝙩

John did not have to ask what kind of training it was for Lyndell. He took a glance at the vibrator. It was a regularly sized thing and built more for clit stimulation than penetrative action – the lazy woman’s way to get off repeatedly. There was an opportunity here. “I prefer to be the one doing the training. Keep it to the butt plug. When I take you for the first time, I want you to feel my size.”

“Hnghrhhrhhr?!” The noise Lyndell produced was Eliana-levels of overwhelmed submissive. It was an incredibly intense reaction, it also was what he expected. It was the first time he had hit her with ‘the dom voice’ and he was following that up with a demanding, serious-faced stare. The ancient entity froze as she was, sitting, legs spread, on the ground. The falling shirt now covered her pussy from view, but John could smell that she was even wetter than before.

Unable to help himself, he grabbed one of Lyndell’s horns. The curve of the smooth, gradient-coloured protrusion made it a wonderful utensil for manhandling her. He could already imagine holding them both while he ravaged her throat. They grew almost entirely up, so they wouldn’t get in the way of anything either.

“I gave you an order, horny mushroom, I expect confirmation.”

“Yes!” Lyndell almost shouted. It was the loudest he had heard her raise her voice outside of combat.

“Have you been playing with each other or has this training been a parallel effort?”

“The latter. I was told you enjoy being the one that claims.”

“You listened well then.” John did not have to speculate who told her. Four women had been advertised to join his harem in the near future by a certain seer and three of them were in this apartment at this second, with Fianna being the fourth. Lorelei had probably pulled some strings. “Good girl.”

If there was a part of Lyndell that had not been sure about pursuing him, it died when he said those two words. Very little actually changed on the woman’s face. A light parting of her black lips, the widening of her eyes, a straightening of her posture, that was all it took to transform her forlorn expression into one that John knew very well. That was how adoring submissives looked. It transformed into pure arousal when he dragged her close enough to his crotch that her flaring nostrils could pick up the scent of his cologne mixed with the shampoos, perfumes and natural fragrances of his harem.

He released her horn the next moment, then stepped away. To call Lyndell stunned would have been an understatement. It wasn’t until he called over his shoulder that she stopped being a statue, “No more orgasms until I permit you to. If you’re going to conspire with Lorelei, you can suffer the same limitations.”

“…Yes,” Lyndell answered slowly, rising from her sexual stupor.

All of that had John put into a very dominant mood or maybe he had been in one while he had walked over. Who would blame him for getting turned on by the kind of greeting he had gotten?

“Horny creature…” Ehtra answered the question with a mutter.

“…Come here,” he ordered her, harshly, after sitting down by the circular black table. Its polished surface met everything else in Lyndell’s private retreat. She had decorated a bit, although that decoration was limited to the words ‘black’, ‘gloomy’ and ‘minimal’. He was pretty sure she would have stuck to concrete walls if no one had nudged her into putting at least a bit of effort in.

Lyndell thought the order applied to her as well, which, to be fair, it did. She made her way to a second one of the six chairs that were around the table. A number that John found odd. There were three potential haremettes here, even if he did not really consider Lucifrena to be in that category. Was Fianna also tied into this? That would have been a breach of her secret identity, but with Layla and Lyndell involved, he could imagine that the sniper had been found out and then dragged into something.

Under that assumption, that still left 2 chairs too many at the table. Obviously, Lorelei had been advising them in one way or another. Perhaps she had been taking someone else along whenever she did, like Aclysia or Claire?

Alternatively, John was overthinking all of this and there were just 6 chairs around the table.

‘It’s just that my intuition tells me Lyndell is the kind of woman to start a conspiracy to get into the harem quicker,’ John thought, while pushing a hand under Ehtra’s skirt.

The First of Hatred gasped wantonly when his fingers sunk into her fat ass. There was so much chocolate meat there that he could really claw at her thickness. That was just the foreplay though, a reminder of her maid-worthy ass being his. The real goal was her pussy, entirely bare, the panties absorbed back into her inorganic body before he had even gotten close to them.

Metal and magic may have made up her form, but her womanhood was real all the same. Like her origin, her outward sourness was entirely artificial. To call her wet after seeing him manhandle Lyndell was to call a monsoon a light rain. He pushed two fingers into her. Ehtra bit her lower lip and grabbed the backrest of John’s chair. She stubbornly refused to moan out loud. Her muffled gasps filled the air instead.

Lucifrena returned from the backrooms in that moment. She blushed slightly at the scene she found and quietly sat down next to Lyndell. Seeing the faux-twins next to each other only made John harder. He was dedicated to finally breaching the subject of his visit though.

“Fortunate that I caught both of you here. I have a simple question for the two of you: what do you plan to do next?”

Somehow, Lyndell was the less distracted of the two. Her eyes snapped from Ehtra to John. “I will be yours.”

“I appreciate that goal deeply, but my women aren’t there to just be my eye candy. What do you intend to do with your free time?”

“Lay on the floor, read poetry and wait for you to get back.” Lyndell delivered all of that without a moment’s hesitation or an ounce of sarcasm.

‘…Well, I already got a Lee, what’s a second one?’ John thought. “If you don’t mind, I’d have you accompany my women during their daily tasks, both so you can get more familiar with everyone and so you might find something else to fill your time with purpose.”

Lyndell shrugged apathetically. “I do not mind.”

“Mhmmm…” A moan did escape Ehtra when her curvaceous body swayed with the spasms of a light orgasm. John kept moving his fingers for a few more seconds, then left her to ride out her climax.

“And you, Lucifrena?” John asked, then sucked Ehtra’s love juices off his fingers. The grey angel hid her embarrassed smirk in the corner of her elbow.

“I-I, uhm, have heard that your… queen? Jane? Rave?”

“I believe Rave is still the most appropriate for you, you’ll have to clear that with her.”

“Rave runs various charity organizations… If you don’t mind, I w-would like to partake in those?”

“It is not my call to make, but I will let her know.”

“I will let her know,” Ehtra corrected, having already opened the Harem Comms. “You wasted enough time being a pervert, Master. We have to go to your next appointment.”

“Ah… alright,” John sighed and got up. “Don’t forget your orders, Lyndell.”

“Your horny mushroom will not forget,” she promised.

‘Ah, for… I used the nickname out loud in a moment of horniness. Guess that makes Jane’s victory official…’ John had to live with that failure. “You can also let Layla know that we have decided to absolve her of what she did wrong. I know she will respond that she did nothing wrong, I understand the crazies, so tell her that there is no argument to be had since we have decided to return to zero all the same. I wish to talk to her when she is capable of it.” He turned towards the door, took three steps, then turned to Lyndell again. “Oh, and tell her that I also don’t want her to use any toys besides a butt plug from this point onwards. I’d tell her not to orgasm either… but I know that’d be unreasonable.”

“I will relay it,” Lyndell promised.