Collide Gamer

The Guild Hall was settled in. Temporary residents had moved out, new permanent residents had moved in, ferry connections were established and everything was up and running. The first stress test was going, which meant their usual pressure release valve was as moody as usual.

“Where is my coffee?!” Hank growled as he swayed into the organiser’s room. As per usual, the middle-aged man was bitter, pissed and tired. He all but swiped the cup out of Aclysia’s hand, caring as little that he was wordlessly insulting one of the strongest women on the planet as he did about the coffee still being steaming hot. He downed it in one gulp.

John sometimes thought that very weak magic the man had must have all been focused on granting heat resistance to the digestive track. That was the only way the Gamer could conceive of him downing that amount of hot coffee. Then again, Hank only did this when he was in the swing of things.

“Good job,” the Gamer praised the man.

“Don’t thank me with words, thank me with a bonus,” Hank groaned. “Or, better yet, a promotion!”

“I’ll think about it,” John drawled. The truth of the matter was that he couldn’t promote Hank any further without moving him to a position where he wouldn’t have been as useful. He already was the ‘Chief Event Organizer of the Imperial Government of Fusion’. Basically, whenever John wanted anything big to happen, he had Momo call Hank to make sure it worked out.

The man was right to complain that his job was stressful during those days or weeks, but he was also complaining way too much for a job that only got taxing during those times. In-between, Hank was a part of John’s media team and he had very little duties in that position. In other words, he had a position of rather immense prestige and recompensation that only required him to work extremely hard a few weeks out of the year.

“This wasn’t even that hard,” Momo declared. The fairy maid was in the organizer’s room with her Master, making sure everything was in order before they took their position in their private area. “The coliseum provided at least half of the functionalities we needed on its own. You just needed to organize the viewing areas and do the contracts for snack deliveries.”

“A lot of hard work,” Hank responded, then continued in a much more patient tone, “Though you are right, of course. Thank you for your assistance in it all.”

Momo waved it off. Because she was so much of a workaholic and did so much of the prep-work for these events, Hank practically worshipped the ground she walked on. Something about working for a boss that was just well-organized.

“If you have everything under control here, we’ll go start the events,” John said.

“The quicker you do that, the quicker this is over with.”

John rolled his eyes, then walked out of the room, showing a slight smile only after he left. Much like Hank revealed his preference for this kind of work courtesy of the fact that he kept doing it, John admitted to having a preference for this kind of subordinate that spoke their mind despite the differences. ‘Though I don’t know if I would maintain that thought-process if there were more people who were quite this brazen.’

The Coliseum had the same ‘problem’ as its Roman counterpart: it was massive. The circular walls were all designed in service of the viewing areas on top, leaving just so much space in the solid rock structure below. As with all of Fusion’s great structures, John favoured a mixture of the Art Deco style with Greco-Roman elements. Dominant colours were deep blue and black, with the various colours of the elements serving as ornamental trims.

Unlike the Roman counterpart, this one was built with modern technology in mind. Where Romulus had relied on various magical solutions, John just rode an elevator. It was an enormous thing, big enough to move a couple of cars or a harem of almost thirty women. Using it with just the three of them felt a bit silly.

The elevator was the only way to reach the private viewing platform of the emperor. It was a mostly enclosed space located on the west side of the Coliseum. The balcony sat on the same level as the lowest rank of the onlookers, putting them as close to the action as possible. An internal, one-way see-through wall and a pair of curtains blocked external viewing of the rest of the luxurious compartment, itself large enough to host an entire party… or a harem of thirty-ish women.

Said harem was in a state of lesbian exultation. Naked, nubile bodies writhed on oceans of pillows, bent over arm and backrests of the couches, or knelt on the leather-cushioned carpet. John’s cock was fully hard before he even stepped out of the elevator, the multitude of sounds caressing his ears simply too much.

“Well, I suppose I have time for this,” John whispered to himself. Pulling the two maids along, he moved into the sapphic engagement, adding just one rod’s worth of straightness to it all.

The who and what to do was answered nearly instantly by the grey rear raised accidentally in his direction. Lyndell was face down between Nathalia’s thighs, rubbing her swollen mons while her inhumanely long tongue did everything right. The dragoness was so lost in the oral bliss that she hadn’t even noticed her mate entering. If she had, perhaps she would have tried to entice him herself. She would have failed, however.

In a harem of women with S-tier asses, Lyndell was among the prestigious few who John would have titled to have an actually perfect butt. Roundness, size, ratio to hips and thighs, it was just right there in the golden mean in all aspects. Already aroused, seeing that bubble butt up in the air, swaying in a lethargic rhythm, was just too much.

John had dismissed his clothes in one second, knelt behind Lyndell on the cushions the next, and was pushing against her a moment later. The human heat of the primordial Lorylim enveloped him. Her lower lips, as black as the upper ones, stretched around his girthy member.

A lazy moan rose in her throat as his invasion triggered an orgasm that her fingers had been working towards. SMACK! The sharp echo of a spank echoed in the room, tearing a much louder scream from her throat. Another loud CLAP followed, the other cheek of the masochistic mushroom getting its own treatment by John’s flat palm.

Nathalia opened one eye partially, just to watch the man that had put the first baby in over ten millennia of life into her belly begin to rut into another woman. Cupping her own breasts, she pinched and twisted her nipples at the sight. “Perfect,” she gasped, “just perfect. Use your women to your satisfaction, my mate! Fill her so I may taste your seed from its proper chalice!”

“God-damn, Nathy,” John groaned, his hips accelerating until the smacking of his pelvis against Lyndell’s rear was indistinguishable in sound from another spanking smack. Holding the grey-skinned woman by the waist, he pounded and pounded her, making her entire body shake. Her short hair and the translucent veil covering it were both swaying from the force of the impacts. Her tongue coiled and twitched inside Nathalia as climax after climax rocked the entity from another era turned submissive sex slave.

Another plunge, then a sudden stop. John’s hips moved minimally, jittering back and forth as his cock tensed within the confining grip of the clenching cunt. Cum surged from where it was produced to where it was meant to be, painting the forlorn insides of a godly girlfailure white.

The licking and kissing and moaning all around him continued without pause. This was one of the many, many, many orgies in this harem that weren’t focused on him. He was another participant in it. Certainly, he had more sway in it, courtesy of being the one man and one of the few doms,

John pulled out of Lyndell, though his cock sprang free every bit as hard as it had entered her. ‘Quite tempting to just grab her by those curved horns and fuck her face while I make my opening announcement,’ the Gamer thought. ‘I could do it. The broadcast is flagged 18+… maybe later. At least the opening speech I should keep in a state that they can broadcast.’

With a self-aware groan, John rose back to his feet. Aclysia and Momo had long since been lost to the greater orgy.

“Can I convince anyone to stand next to me and look modest and supportive while I hold my speech?” he had to raise his voice against the chorus of wanton cries. A whole lot of them just continued their lovemaking, their ignorance the answer to his question. “Anyone?” he reiterated.

“Urgh, I just got here…!” Momo dragged herself out of the enviable position between two Delicias. One shortstack grinned with typical brattiness, the other softly smiled with a hint of sadism, her eyes an amber shade to confirm her true identity. Undine’s shapeshifting had so much lewd potential, but John loved her true body too much to make excessive use of it.

Nightingale’s long tongue retreated from Gnome’s womanhood, then the harpy rose as well. “I lend you my presence, my patriarch.”

Two was more than good enough for the opening speech of what was ultimately a fairly silly event. “Don’t you think they should see you?” he asked a certain imperial tomboy.

Lulu’s mouth was too busy sucking on Layla’s clit to formulate an answer. A wave of her hand, somehow graceful despite the tremors brought about by being seated on the brunette’s face in turn, expressed her lack of care. John was quite tempted to get over there and fuck the empress’ ass. Instead, he stepped into a different corner of the chamber where an open shower allowed them to rinse off and make themselves presentable.

Through the tinted glass, John could watch the crowd that could not see him in turn. The Coliseum was hardly filled, its capacity simply too large for the one or two thousand people that had come in. Winterly travel reluctance seemed to be in full effect, so only the locals were present in any real numbers.

Back in his suit and with the two accompanying women in their usual garb, John headed for the curtain. It was a layered thing, each drape thick in both material and enchantments to assure no one could look past even while the trio made their way through. Hovering cameras turned his way the moment he stepped out. The noise in the Coliseum was barely audible, to then be reduced to a hushed whisper.

John stepped onto the marked square of arcane purple in the black marble floor. A soft tingle marked the presence of a voice projecting enchantment. A microphone would have done it, but those were a little more prone to accidents.

“Thank you for coming in the numbers you have,” the Emperor of Fusion began his speech. “I know it was all on rather short notice and that the comfort of the home beckons in these cold months… well, cold in most places around Fusion.” He allowed himself a small chuckle. “It’s not even just the thermostat control of my first wife anymore that keeps it hot here, Eureka is just nice year-round.”

“Of course, you brag,” Momo chimed in, a foot on the speaking square. Her voice carried well enough that everyone got to laugh at the sassy minx’s joke.

“Well, in a sense, this whole event is about bragging,” he responded. “What you will see over the course of today and tomorrow is a series of clashes within the Imperial Choir, myself included… and also Lu Zhi. The Heavenly Jade Empress offered to partake in this little game as thanks for the gifts Fusion has delivered to the Middle Empire. To even out the numbers, I accepted.”

John did not linger on the excuse any further. It was suspicious enough without him belabouring the point like a lady that doth protest too much.

“This is an event to showcase our might,” he stated. “The Fusion Empire is one of the Divided Gates and I’ll not be intimidated by the condemnation of a peacekeeping organization that oversteps its boundaries. Let it be seen what might we yield. Before our first fight and between them, there will be various smaller events, from military displays to other show fights. I hope you citizens will see the veterans of the Lorylim War and be reassured and I reckon that the world will see and consider carefully what to do next.”

It was a barely veiled threat to everyone in the world that picking the Concord’s side was not a winning move. Being the one to further raise the temperature on global tensions may not have been the most diplomatic move, but it was the honest one and John was strong enough that he could afford being an honest politician.

Though he was partially lying about the nature of the breaks. Behind closed doors, the harem had made the rule that the winner of any given fight got to sexually dominate the loser. The breaks were to give everyone the 5 to 30 minutes needed for such an entanglement.

“The first fight of the tournament will be Jane ‘Rave’ Newman versus Scarlett Thorne.”

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