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The Gamer Chapter 1257 – What the goddess wants, the goddess gets
🕑 Added 2022-07-26 11:28:44 +0000 UTCWhat John had wanted to follow from there was obvious. He had just been teased with massive badonkers for a solid stretch of time - super sensitive, massive badonkers, that felt better than any cushion under his fingers, warm, squishy, and firm at the same time. Their smooth surface would be easily lubricated by any selection of natural or synthetic options. Wrapped around his cock, they would entirely swallow his manhood. Being enveloped in the titanic tits of a stunning dragoness was doubtlessly going to be divine.
Which was why John was a teeny, tiny bit miffed that he was not getting the expected titjob immediately. In an ultimate twist of fate, it was Nathalia who controlled herself. Nathalia, whose Libido had actually increased further as a consequence of the newly acquired, easily stimulated volume to her chesticles.
It wasn’t a small increase either, going 35 points up from 130 to 165. The honour of being the horniest girl in the harem still belonged to Sylph and her Chaotic Slut alignment. Nathalia was ‘merely’ the second most sexually needful.
Which made it doubly frustrating that she manifested her self-control when he wanted nothing more than to see her O-face while she massaged his dick with her tits.
John forced his reason to the surface and asked the obvious question: “Why are we stopping here?”
Rather than answer immediately, Nathalia gave him a delighted wink, while scales of obsidian crept over her surface. From the fingers and toes inwards to her chest and neck, the black covered her bit by bit. When it stopped, there was only a V-shaped cut-out left that stretched from her lower abdomen all the way to the collar bone. It revealed more than most clothing, leaving the Lover’s Will mark and her cleavage on display, while hiding the bits people would have categorized as indecent. The scales also went up the sides of her neck and to her ears, framing her face.
Usually, this appearance was further equipped with claws, spikes on the shoulders, and the gaps between the scales would have glowed with volcanic heat. All of that was missing, because she was comfortable. From experience, John knew how quickly her draconic side could start showing. A little bit of agitation, and suddenly her tail was smacking a park bench ten metres into the air.
Nathalia crossed her arms underneath her breasts again. The scales provided the necessary support to keep her boobs from jiggling with full intensity. They were also flexible enough that she could do the presenting push that involuntarily made John’s eyes dash from her face to those twin mounds.
“I adjusted my form to your desires,” Nathalia finally gave her response. “That was the most important adjustment of my appearance. Something more is required though.” She gestured towards the discarded shirt. “I want clothes.”
Although Nathalia was not and likely would never be a big ‘clothes wearer’, she had spent an increasing amount of time recently wearing suits. Being Scarlett’s partner in business, that had been the uniform appropriate for board meetings and such. Even in the Abyss, corporations had a dress code.
“What type of clothes?” John asked.
“Whatever I want.”
“Fair enough, that can be arranged,” the Gamer said with a chuckle and quickly mapped out a route in his mind. “Let’s get that done. Right now.”
Nathalia nodded, having expected nothing else. What a dragon goddess wanted, a dragon goddess got, especially when she was the mate of the leader of a nation. John rose from the Couch and walked towards the door, opening it for Nathalia to take the lead. In leaving, he exchanged a quick message with Lydia. The queen wrote back nearly immediately that she and Eliana were having a chat about renaissance paintings and what kind of preparation made potatoes the tastiest. A completely normal selection of topic and tangent.
John did a quick scan for what the rest of his familiars were doing. Basked in busy joy, Momo was grumbling to herself in her office, draining the complete swamp of work while occasionally complaining to her Firefae. In other words, Momo was having a great time. Beatrice, similarly, was churning through calculation tables and request forms. To say that she was happy would be an overstatement. In most situations, Beatrice’s emotional range was pretty limited. Where normal people could go from -10 to +10 in terms of sadness to happiness, Beatrice operated more from -3 to +3. To say that she was content would have been more accurate. She liked being useful and to be in a workflow. Plus, she got to sass people whenever they did their job poorly.
‘How may I help you, Master?’ Aclysia answered when he reached out to her mind. Instantly, like barging in through a door, Claire joined the conversation. Her thoughts tackled his, enveloped him with sheer joy, and did absolutely nothing aside from emitting adoration.
‘I was just checking up on everyone,’ he told her.
‘We are currently surveying the Farm,’ Aclysia responded.
‘Is that so? How do you like it, Claire?’
‘Animals are so adorable. Animals walk around. Animals will doubtlessly taste delicious,’ Claire responded and then cackled. ‘No wonder Arkeidos slaughtered all of these, someone could have had a good time. Although, I understand that these aren’t exactly real?’
‘They are indistinguishable from actual animals in every sense aside from procreation,’ John told her. ‘What do you think about the plants?’
‘They’re more interesting than grass, at least. Kind of blows my mind that food just grows on trees and that you can put food into the ground to grow more food. That’s absolutely ridiculous. What kind of paradise is this?’
‘Really puts things into perspective when you put it like that,’ John hummed. ‘On the note of putting food into the ground and having more food grow – Aclysia, I’m in the mood for potatoes.’
‘Your wish is my command, Master. Would potato soup suit you? It would be a splendid opportunity to teach Claire the basics of reduction.’
‘Sounds fantastic. Add bacon.’
‘For the sake of your cholesterol, I must insist we use sausages or salmon instead.’
If there was any topic where Aclysia would push back against his wishes, it was his nutrition. He could have pushed her and she would have budged at some point (it was clear who was the Master in this relationship). John had not had any stomach aches, digestive problems, or gassy mornings since she took over his diet plan in its entirety. While the lack of such issues could have easily been explained by his rising Stats, there was no drawback in listening to Aclysia’s wishes. He would get a delicious meal out of it one way or another.
‘Alright then, head maid’s choice,’ he told her.
‘Thank you, Master,’ Aclysia responded in a pleased, melodic tone. They did a quick memory exchange of what else had happened since they had last seen each other. ‘Please tell Nathalia that she has my deepest respects for her correct decision to reshape herself according to your preferences.’
‘Ditto,’ Claire added.
‘Will do,’ John promised and then gently pulled out of the connection. Both maids stayed attached for as long as possible, their minds only slowly drifting away from his. ‘Yo,’ he reached out to Metra, the last currently available familiar.
‘Waddup, my King?’ Metra responded. ‘Guild Hall is busy today, but no crime or suspicious movements. Getting kinda bored though.’
‘Hmm, can’t have that,’ John thought and did the same memory exchange with her. ‘I’ll ask Nathalia if you can tag along.’
‘I would fucking love that. I want to see those tits in person.’
“Alright, so, Aclysia and Claire sent their congratulations for having made the correct decision to change your body for me,” John told the tall woman, while they walked down the corridor together. “And Metra would like to come along for our shopping trip.”
“She is allowed,” Nathalia graciously said.
‘Hear that?’
‘Yup, I’ll meet you in the Commercial District.’
As they walked the need for proper clothes for the dragoness became more apparent. John had his arm around her waist. Their height difference of only seven centimetres meant that she was still in a comfortable range for holding onto her softly curved middle section. Scales did not make for an optimal holding surface, however. Their edges rubbed uncomfortably against his palm as they moved. John had to decide between discomfort and letting go. Since he did not want to associate any kind of unpleasant feelings with his haremettes, he let go and instead held her hand.
Nathalia suddenly and violently turned her head when he did. Her light brown skin turned mildly red. “Do not laugh!” she demanded.
“Why wouhhld I laugh?” John answered with a question. The words were a bit distorted from the mild bite on the inside of his right cheek. All he could think about were all of these memes Rave had showed him of weebs reacting to handholding as if it was the lewdest act in the world. To the formerly legendarily promiscuous women, that could have been true.
“It was more unexpected!” Nathalia insisted, a bit too forceful for that to be the truth. Meanwhile, the scales on her hand disappeared. The softness of a lady’s hand soon gripped his hand with the force of a domineering dragon. Not minding whatsoever, John locked fingers with hers.
There were three teleporters that connected the hub room to the Commercial District. One brought them directly to the centre, being located in the Guild Bank. The second connected to Eliana’s atelier, in the north-west of the district. The last was in the south-east, teleporting whoever used it right to the Main Harbour. There were other teleporters that could have brought them close and the autonomous ferry network was also readily available. Mobility was not an issue within the Guild Hall.
John decided that they would take the teleporter to the Main Harbour, since that would fit the best for the route he had in mind.
They emerged in a secluded room. Only members of Collide and John’s Lover’s Will marked haremettes were capable of activating Guild Hall appliances like this, so leaving them out in the open was technically safe. In case of an enemy invasion, John wanted them to be somewhat tucked away though. Worse, should there be a resurgence of paparazzi in his life, he did not want easily besieged exit points.
The office building was part of the harbour oversight. Most of the shipping-associated bureaucracy was done on the eastern shore of the Harbour, where the Fusion Administration was. Sometimes, it was just easier to have it done on this side. Particularly, repeat visitors were allowed to dock and leave with some of the red tape removed.
Three floors down and through a foyer in which the occasional conversation bounced, the Gamer and the Flame of Destruction walked, emerging in the Commercial District. ‘Alright, we’re here,’ John contacted Metra. ‘Where do you want to meet?’
‘Just wait there for a second,’ the First of Wrath responded.
John expected further elaboration. She cut off the connection. “Well, there’ll be some kind of surprise in a second,” he warned Nathalia.
They were in one of the less busy areas of the Commercial District. Fusion’s Harbour resembled many modern container shipyards in that much of it was either automated or assisted by large machinery. Because the Harbour was, in a rudimentary sense, alive, it reacted to whatever pulled into it by adjusting the shapes of its piers and landing platforms. What was needed to take the cargo off was created by the mechanics of the Building and disappeared once it had fulfilled its function.
Typically speaking, a whole lot more resources left the Guild Hall than were brought into it. By John’s design, his base of operations provided just about everything required for modern life, from grains to circuitry. Traders always found something that could be sold though, even if it was only at a marginal profit. There was no merchant worth his salt that made a trip somewhere only to buy.
Whether it was a cargo ship or a civilian transporter, some people took off and made their way to the actual district. Most of them used different roads though. The south-east of the Commercial District was dominated by massive corporations like Thorne or the Abyss Auction. The north-east, by contrast, held barely anything beside a lake. North-west were the middle-sized shops. South-west, then, were the small shops, crammed tightly together. The idea was to provide a wide range of different themes and, more importantly, property sizes that everyone between a start-up and a conglomerate could afford renting. The centre of the district was shared between a large park, administration buildings, like the Guild Bank, and shops that Fusion sponsored.
Their existence was much a cause for grumbling from Scarlett’s side, but John needed them for two reasons. One, prime real estate was a powerful bargaining token when it came to getting foreign craftsmen to set up shop in the Guild Hall. Two, it was one of many potential rewards for exceptional military service.
John kept gazing into the distance. It wasn’t terribly long ago that the Harbour had been one pier barely containing an appropriated yacht. Although the Boating Seaquence laid in a secluded dock by his private island now, he could still see it stretch across the little coastline he had owned. For a long time, activity on the island had been limited to himself, his harem, and a few dozen refugees from the surrounding city. Expansion had brought job opportunities, job opportunities had brought growth, growth had brought people, people brought ideas, ideas brought job opportunities, and the positive feedback loop went from there.
How many people were busy in the Commercial District these days? Anything between several hundred and a few thousand. Not the impressive numbers mundane capitals got but enough to make John feel pretty good about it. It would reach ten-thousand a day eventually. Growth would continue as long as there were resources to exploit.
In a way, the Guild Hall benefitted from the same adventurous spirit that had caused the gold rush in America. Once gold was found, a miner could stake a claim to that shaft. The problem with that particular strategy had been the enormous risk involved. Finding gold was a matter of extreme luck and mining was dangerous work. The Guild Hall provided guaranteed wealth for anyone willing to throw themselves into one of the many labour jobs around the island.
Anyone who visited the Guild Hall, even the poorest of the poor, could spend the first half of their visit working and then immediately spend that money to buy what they came to acquire. The entire system was purely merit based, with the pay-outs based only on how much of what materials had been brought.
Fusion was getting essentially free labour out of these deals. The materials won were either sold at a slight profit margin, wandered into a reserve, or (in the case of metals) were used to mint the very same Tokens that the workers were then paid with. There was only one potential drawback to this system and that was accidentally causing inflation by oversupplying currency.
While John was thinking about all of that, he noticed a sparkling object fly towards him. As it got closer, he picked up dramatic metal music, e-guitars and heavy drums. The few people that were taking this road stopped and got ready to dodge that unfamiliar projectile. “No need to be alarmed,” John assured them out loud.
Rex Magnar descended on their current position. The blade cut a distortion into the physical world, appearing like a particularly intense heat flicker. It lasted only for a split second, before it tore open and Metra emerged. The First of Wrath immediately grabbed the shaft of her halberd. Forward momentum suddenly turned downwards, as the weapon increased several times over in weight.
Metra landed gracefully on the road, somehow not causing any damage. “Yo,” she greeted, as she straightened up. Without a second thought, she tossed Rex Magnar into a nearby patch of grass. The weapon landed like a slanted flagpole. Then, she turned to Nathalia. “Looks like you really are chestily boobing around the cleavagescape.”
“Very droll,” Nathalia hissed. “Don’t make me regret this.”
Wagging her tail, Metra came closer. “Don’t get too mad, Nathy, we haven’t even bought you panties you could get into a twist yet.”
“Speaking of which…” John extended his left arm. The blonde berserker babe took her proper place, attaching her scantily clad, caramel curves to his side. A welcoming kiss was quickly exchanged.
Then, with two gorgeous amazons, John started the shopping spree.
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