Collide Gamer

“Got a moment, Master?” Nahoa asked.

“If I did not have three bodies, the answer to that would be a resounding no,” John responded. His real self was currently gathering up his dungeon party to get through the Wave Dungeon, while the Creator Double remained with Rave to pick out their favoured kind of design for the invitation cards. “But I do, so how can I help you?”

“Mind if we took this somewhere a little more private?” the demigoddess asked.

Under other circumstances, the request would have had some kind of lewd or worrying undertone. Given that the living room around them was a den of paperwork and constant exchanging opinions regarding various aesthetical choices, privacy here just meant that she wanted to talk somewhere a bit more quiet.

So, John obliged her. The Creator Puppet body rose from its spot on the couch and followed the short Aztec woman to the nearest sideroom. There were plenty of them, chambers meant for one to four people, existing solely for little talks between individuals or so haremettes could do their work in peace. Although the harem itself was focused around John, practically all of his women had their own set of jobs and duties beyond him and even those that did not still kept busy in their own ways.

One such woman was in the chamber that Nahoa chose. Ehtra was tapping away on a keyboard, responding to emails that reached them. The benefit of time dilation with functional internet was that contact could still be maintained, especially through text, even if download speeds got a bit funky at times.

Ehtra was not surprised by their arrival. She simply turned away from the laptop and faced John, while he was guided to sit on the bed. Nahoa chose to have this conversation with her petite body seated on one of his legs – if petite could apply to a woman with such prestigious a behind.

“Soooooo, I have an itsy-bitsy little request for you, my Master and emperor,” Nahoa purred.

“I feel like what you are about to request of me is going to be anything besides itsy-bitsy and little,” John commented drily.

“Nuh-uh, it’s gonna be totally liddle.” Nahoa’s cutesy tone shifted drastically into a malevolent purr, just as her expression went from feigned innocence to a dark, fang-flashing smirk. “I want you to declare me Queen of the Mexica.”

The emperor of Fusion raised both eyebrows at the request. It was a very brazen one. Like every monarchical title, any title period really, it was entirely made up and thus its symbolism was exceptionally important.

By all rights, it was Nahoa’s accurate title. What survived of the Mexica tribes was under her spiritual rule already and, no doubt, she would establish her Guild Hall in that area and make them her demesne proper. That only made sense.

The specific title ‘Queen of the Mexica’ laid a broader claim. There were still some tribes down in Latin America, such as the one that they had encountered when they had done their expedition that had led them to Nahoa in the first place. More than that, most people when they heard ‘Mexica’ thought of ‘Mexico’.

“That could be easily misconstrued as a land claim,” he cautioned.

“It is a land claim,” Nahoa responded flatly. “I am the rightful heir of the Aztec empire as the daughter of Huitzilopochtli.”

John sucked on his teeth, air creating an unpleasant noise as it was drawn in. The sound came to an abrupt end when Ehtra pinched his lips between her fingers. “You will find her request easier to oblige than mine,” she stated. “I want you to declare me and Metra Lady-Protector of Mesopotamia.”

That got a groan out of him. “You put me between a rock and a hard place. Either I run that diplomatic difficulty or I disappoint you.”

“Which means you only have one choice,” Nahoa teased him.

A long sigh escaped him while he considered the consequences. “What exactly are you planning, insatiable maid of mine? I planned to leave the rest of America alone.”

The axolotl demigoddess amusedly pushed air out of her nose. She knew as well as him that he was planning to leave the rest alone for now. “There will be no violent expansion into the south,” Nahoa stated. “As Queen of the Mexica, it is simply my duty to protect my people. I am the last divine they have left, diminished as I may be in the eyes of the Heavens. If they do not wish to leave their ancestral lands, who would blame them?”

“I see, you would build exclaves of your influence in your old lands, then expand your influence from there?”

“Of course not,” Nahoa denied with the kind of mirthful trill to her voice that made it a confirmation. “I would only assure the safety of my people, to connect them once more into one cohesive whole. Stupid as I am, I wouldn’t manage anything more.”

“…Right…” John drawled, sarcastically. “I have one more question for you: do you want to do this for me or for yourself.”

“For myself.”

“Then I’ll do as you ask.” The Gamer let out another long sigh. “Just please slow boil that frog.”

“I’ll do my best.”

Which brought John to the other woman who approached him with the demand for a foreign claim. John’s claim on Akkad was… solid and tenuous simultaneously. Everyone who knew about Metracanas knew that it was their purpose to find a new king of Akkad. That project, however, had taken well over two thousand years. The only reason why there was even a remote chance that claim could be pressed was because an abundance of Lorylim in former Mesopotamia had kept Abyssals out of resettling the area.

Now that had changed. Although no one had laid an official claim to that area yet, it was clear the Great Sultanate would want it. They were geographically located for it and there was plenty of historical precedent for an empire based in Anatolia governing over Mesopotamia. Really, it could be considered the natural state of the Middle East to be unified under one massive empire or another.

Albeit, John had no intent whatsoever of being that empire.

“Staking a claim to Mesopotamia will lead to trouble, if not war,” John said.

“And I insist all the same. It is your given right and my home,” Ehtra responded. “I can build homages to Babylon and Akkad, I can honour the style of dress and house, but the ruins that remain are all that is genuine. I will reclaim it, if there is anything left at all.”

That was a risk. Many of the barriers had remained open only because Lorylim had occupied them. Now that they were all removed, these spaces were closed or closing. Momo had already partaken in an international effort to organise expeditions that would save as many as possible. They could debate the spoils after.

Low-key, John hoped they found absolutely nothing of value. The Great Sultanate could likely be negotiated out of the idea of overtaking land that was devoid of people and resources, doubly so with the mundane side of things being a, to put it crudely, massive PvP server.

“Lady-Protector may not be the best choice of title,” he answered. “I am not fundamentally opposed, but it will galvanize the Great Sultanate against us, which in turn might see them weigh in on Asia negatively.”

“I believe in our competence, Master,” Ehtra stated plainly.

John was happy she did. He himself had a more cautious optimism that the Great Sultanate was a decrepit state, its might tilting ever closer towards dusk due to a lack of reform and overzealous sexism. Even if Osman succeeded in reforming it into a slightly more modernist version of itself, that would take years to take proper effect.

Still, the Great Sultanate was a boulder rolling downhill, reaching the end of the slope. Its momentum may have been slowing, but it was far away from being safe to stand next to. Incurring their ire would make stabilizing Asia that much harder.

To deny Ehtra and Metra these titles and their home would be to put Lu Zhi’s goals ahead of them, however. That was something John could not do. His women all deserved the best in life. The place he had in this world was to repay them for all they did for him by doing everything he could for them. Obviously, the fact that he had nearly thirty of them was going to lead to competing interests. He had been blessed that they were patient. Their goals could be juggled, oftentimes. ᴛʜɪs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪs ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ʙʏ 𝕟𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕝⚑𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖⚑𝕟𝕖𝕥

“We will have to decide on an exact title,” John said slowly, “but I will oblige.”

“Good Master,” Ehtra purred.

John would not lie – he did feel a wave of pleasant tingles travel up and down his spine at the sound of those words. Getting honest approval from the First of Hatred was a rare treat. ‘I am not immune to hot women complimenting me,’ he thought. ‘Not in the slightest.’

“Next point on the agenda, then.” Nahoa scratched the back of his head, while a very pleased, grey angel knelt down in front of him. The regular suit the Creator Puppet wore was easily loosened, the belt buckle removed, the pants and undergarments yanked down to let his cock spring free.

Ehtra marveled at his size with open arousal. Her hot lips parted, taking him inside swiftly. His mind was embraced by the love and affection of the maids’ souls. Now that they had covered the most contentious topic the proper way, they had lost the reservation of manipulating him through pleasure.

Enthusiastic bobs of a very horny maid filled the air with the depraved noises of wet suction. Nahoa had repositioned behind him, pressing her small breasts and pebbled nipples against his back, through his clothes.

“You have the ability to conjure a Kingdom of your choice, is this correct?” Nahoa asked.

“In a limited capacity,” John groaned. The way Ehtra sucked his cock was near unparalleled in its enthusiasm. Rarely to never did John experience a bad blowjob, but he could certainly tell when a woman was doing it to kill time, when she was doing it because she wanted to and when she was doing it because she was way too into him not to. “I can use up to 3 words to theme it.”

“Great Feathered Serpent.” Nahoa’s hands grabbed his shoulders between massage and appreciative squeeze. “So firm,” she moaned.

“You need to find a feathered serpent?” John grabbed Ehtra’s head and kept her pinned to his crotch for a moment. The undulations of her throat even as she remained still were immensely satisfying, yet far less distracting than the stream of pleasure her bobbing head would have caused.

“A queen must have a crown. My people use a Xiuhpilli – a headdress made from precious feathers. If I am to be the queen of all Mexica, the most pristine of feathers are required.” Her hands roamed forwards to his chest. “Jewellery, a cloak – tilmatli - and a staff – huehuetlatolli – I can all acquire on my own, but the feathers of a great feathered serpent I require your aid for. Find me a Quetzalcoatl, Master, and my divine womb shall bear you a thousand demigods.”

“Jesus fuck,” John muttered. The fervour with which she spoke pushed him over the edge. Seed pumped in heavy strands down the throat of the ancient weapon. The hot tunnel tightened and shifted, vibrating with the screams of a woman who was getting her brain fried by the orgasm induced by swallowing his cum.

Giggling darkly, Nahoa supported his back. The raw pleasure made his field of vision swim. He was breathing raggedly, as if he was in the final metres of a marathon. Ehtra was sucking his cock for all that she was worth – which was the world.

By the time the orgasm ebbed away, John felt like the reset button had been set on his brain. He had to shake his head to get back into his own body. “Technically they are quarter gods,” he had to point out.”

“Eh.” Nahoa’s fingers scratched the back of his head rhythmically. “By the time you invest into the Breeder Class, that status will not be diluted at all.”

“Fair enough… how many children would I have gotten if I did not acquiesce to this?”

“Ten hundred.”

John snorted in amusement, then released Ehtra’s head. The grey angel glided upwards, while he continued on, “I have no reason to deny you this, so we will engage on that Kingdom dive when we have time, potentially during this grinding session.”

“Wonderful!!” Nahoa’s words were underlined by the pop of his clean-sucked cock getting released from Ehtra’s lips. Fluidly, the hornylotl then moved from behind him to the front. Smoothly, she impaled herself on his cock, her slender back and fat ass facing him.

Ehtra cleaned her face with a towel and washed out her mouth with magically enriched water. Both were done for John’s benefit more than hers. Of all the ways to get dirty, being covered in his cum was one of the few the First of Hatred did not mind. He, however, minded it a whole lot if he got that cum on his skin or tasted it.

“Onto my request, then.” Ehtra now took Nahoa’s spot behind him, her huge tits squishing on his back with all of the softness such mounds offered. All the while, Nahoa had to bite her lower lip not to scream from the pleasure riding his large dick brought her. “I want you to re-found the city of Akkad and I want you to accept its crown in the proper ceremony. For Metra, it’s good enough to show you wherever Sargon told her to bring his heir. For me, the memory of Akkad must be honoured through rite.”

That sounded a lot less difficult in the first moment, but John did not actually know anything about Akkadian coronation rites. “What does this entail?”

“A procedure with those that represent the gods…”

That was easy enough.

“…bestowing of royal insignia…”

Just the usual then.

“…a period of ten to sixty minutes spent naked, devoid of all authority…”

Now that was getting weird.

“…and ceremonious weeping.”

“…I can lose my authority for an hour, but what am I to understand as ‘ceremonious weeping’?”

Ehtra hugged him tightly from behind. “A monarch will know.”

‘Ah, it’s one of those things,’ John thought to himself. ‘It doesn’t actually matter what it’s supposed to be, it matters what I interpret it as. “This will be easy enough, I think. I will have to ask Enki about planning this out.”

“You ought to,” Ehtra agreed, a light melody to her voice. “Fulfil my wishes, king creature, and I will nakedly prostrate myself before you again.”

Nahoa giggled maliciously. “I feel like my reward enticed him more.”

“Shut up,” Ehtra snapped back.

They concentrated on more lovemaking instead.