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The Gamer Chapter 1839 – Nympholympics 3 – Horny Roads
🕑 Added 2025-02-14 23:30:44 +0000 UTCJohn tried not to pay too much mind to the fact that Hypercrush was out and about.
It was difficult. The drug mage, or whatever the proper designation for his powers would be, had been sobered up with great difficulty and then shoved into one of the prototype prisons generated by Lee and the Rose of Artifice. A technology that required a name, but had not been given one yet. Lee had initially suggested ‘Prison Pocket’. She had not insisted on that name after learning about the alternative meaning of those two words.
Finding names for things was a more pleasant direction of his thoughts – which was why John’s paranoid brain immediately circled back to what Hypercrush would do. The man had been volatile from the start. Once sobered up, he had become borderline unresponsive. John reckoned his brain could not muster the necessary motivation to respond to the outside world without excessive stimulants.
Now that he was free, he would likely shamble to the nearest pub and get a first fix of booze in. Once he was back on some kind of substance, chaos of some kind was sure to follow. Chaos that he only had the Creator Puppet and Mandala Sphere to respond with.
A force that should have been more than enough, realistically speaking. There were also several members of Fusion’s military about, including the Splatterknight, Chemilia and Ted. Altogether, they should be able to put up an adequate defence.
John was trying to consider the silver lining in all of this. ‘At least the blame for this will be squarely with the people who did this,’ he thought. Legislative pardons were a matter of public record. Therefore, if Hypercrush did commit any serious offense, that could be laid squarely at the feet of the people who did this. As for why they had done it, John could understand broadly.
There were many who viewed the Gamer’s rule with a degree of skepticism and he welcomed them to. It was useful to have an opposition like Emrik. Unlike Emrik, not every person in opposition was wise, however, and some people combined their opposition with the naivety that anything that John did that looked like tyranny was tyranny.
Under that lens, the conviction and punishment of Hypercrush did seem like something that demanded a pardon. For a minor infraction, the President was locking the man away for life, using experimental technology no less! Clearly, the Gamer was just using a powerful Latebloomer as his Guinea pig so his new prison could be confirmed in its working.
It was an understandable position to arrive at - wrong, but understandable.
At least they were arriving in a place of easy distraction.
The bus came to a gentle halt. Beatrice prided herself on precision and her parking technique was no exception. John only realized they had come to a stop when the passive maid’s voice echoed over the speaker system, “We have arrived at our destination.”
“Wonderful. Everyone, one quick meeting!” John’s raised voice managed to make it over the remaining noise. Game systems were shut down, Beatrice came back up from the driver’s cabin, and the entirety of his harem (minus Lu Zhi and Lydia, of course), cramped onto the curved couch. Some had to sit in laps, others on the floor, just so there was enough space.
He was looking at a gorgeous arrangement of thoroughly horny women. Many were sweaty, the temperature in the room on the Rave side of preferences after hours of sex. Said sex also contributed to their state, leaving hair dishevelled and holes widened.
“The people of the Gobbo and Catto nations consider sexual prowess a high status symbol, so all of you going out as you are without freshening up will be, for once, politically savvy,” he told all of them. “On the same token, the Horny Village is reserved for VIPs, athletes, and members of the audience for the Nympholympics. There are no minors present and public nudity is widespread, you can put on clothes but you are under no obligation to – Yes, Eliana?”
“Public sex and sex toys?”
“Permitted, if not encouraged.”
“Fan-fucking-tastic!” The pretty little psycho jumped off Nathalia’s lap and made her way to the walk-in closet where they kept their travel arsenal of sex toys. Even without superhuman hearing, she would have heard him talk. “If we’re having the most sexual week ever, then I am getting my brain scrambled every step of my fat fucking thighs along the way!”
“You are more than welcome to,” John assured her and everyone else who swiftly followed along to put the various remote-control toys inside them. “As for other points of etiquette: cameras are strictly forbidden. The only exception to this is the filming equipment inside the arena itself. I have been permitted to carry this phone with me.” John lifted it up, showing everyone that it had no camera. “So, I can still control the toys. Momo also got one, so we two can get called in case of an emergency. Out of respect for local customs, I ask that no one use the Harem Comms to take pictures either.”
“Roger that, tiger,” Rave answered for everyone else. “That all?”
“That should be all,” John agreed with a nod.
“Alrighty, then small announcement from our side!” Rave got up and sashayed over to him. “Considering where we are staying and what we are doing here, the harem has considered whether we let ya bang some goblins and cat girls on the side… exception to the exclusivity and all of that… we quickly came to the conclusion that we don’t want that though.”
John nodded approvingly. He was every bit as fine with this decision as he would have been with the opposite. Had he been given the freedom, he probably would not have made use of it anyway. He was too committed to this new form of relationship to plough three different shortstacks every day, no matter how much his base male urges told him to do exactly that.
“Now, knowing that ya really want to fuck shortstacks during your stay,” Rave spoke to his thoughts, “we have agreed to volunteer Delicia to be your goblin cocksleeve!”
John’s eyes jumped over to the bratty alchemist. She was a natural shortstack to begin with, just a human one. Small of stature, curvy of form, she had the body of a nubile fertility goddess. Before John’s eyes, that shape changed as, with a sassy smirk, Delicia activated one of the Mutagens in her Perk-granted Mutagen Library.
The already short woman shrunk further. From her previous height of just over 1,50 metres, she was reduced to something closer to 1,10. Losing a full head of height came with a narrowing of her shoulders and compacting of her legs. By proportion, the size of her breasts, hips and the thickness of her thighs became more exaggerated in the process. Her skin colour changed from the regular level of paleness an eastern European woman spending her time inside would have to a strong, bright green, resembling leaves at their healthiest. Her regular human ears turned into big, soft-looking things.
She was adorable. More squish than anything else. Her stomach was still flat, but the sag of her natural breasts covered a whole lot of it. Seated, her plump thighs and firm chest almost framed her dark blue womb tattoo. Once she stood, her proportions looked a little more regular, but even then the width of her hips and fatness of her ass dominated, her bottom noticeably wider than her little shoulders.
She was adorable and oozed sex-appeal all over. She was tiny yet exceptionally womanly. The urge to protect and to breed intertwined harmoniously.
“Yes, hello, I’m the one being volunteered!” Delicia said, her bratty tone turned extra squeaky by the transformation. “Aren’t you happy you have such a brilliant and obliging woman, hmm? You should praise me!” She tilted her neck back, as if expecting something to be wrapped around her neck.
“Here ya go,” Rave said, presenting John with a collar that she had pulled out while he was distracted.
John took the leather band and inspected it. It was not one of the regular pieces. This one was specifically made for the occasion. The words ‘Delicia – Cocksleeve of John Newman’ were pressed in golden letters across the black surface. He smiled, then strutted across and put the collar around his property.
No sooner had he put the collar in place than Delicia’s body language changed. Her previously boasting stance became submissive. The difference was slight. Her shoulders lowered a bit, the arm under her breasts pushed them up a little more urgently, and she leaned in the direction of his cock eager to serve. “Please break me repeatedly, stud,” she spoke reverently.
“We did a little prepping and put a hypnotic suggestion on her for that particular collar,” Rave whispered in his ear. “She’ll be your obedient sex slave for as long as she wears it. Still bratty, no doubt, just kinda reverent about it.”
John grinned and put a hand on the head of his private goblin. The average goblin stood at cocksucking height for a man of about 1,80 to 1,90 metres, a range John firmly fell into. Goblins were also natural size queens. Despite the fact that his dick was almost a fifth of her total height, she took it down her throat without even the slightest problem.
‘The flexible biology of true shortstacks runs on porn logic,’ he thought. A groan escaped him, while he gently facefucked his private cockpuppet. “This will definitely help repress any urges to pick up a small greenskin haremette while we are here.”
“Good.” Rave scratched the back of his head, purring while whispering sweet words in his ear. “Wouldn’t want pure horniness to guide that decision… and if you have the need for a cat girl…”
“I already got the best cat girl in the world,” he told her.
Rave grinned. “Right answer, tiger,” she said and got on her toes. Her glossy lips tasted of refreshing, sweet peppermint. She continued to scratch his scalp with her nimble fingers. She also put her hand on his, aggressively guiding Delicia up and down his cock. While making out with his first fiancée, he pumped the final load of the travel down Delicia’s throat.
_______________________________________________________________________
A welcoming committee had formed at the side of the bus.
To be exact, two welcoming committees had formed.
John lived in the blessed reality where both cat girls and goblins had an above average sex drive and drastically skewed gender ratio. The result was that both species were renowned for looking for partners in the most numerous race on the planet – humans, obviously – and to do so with considerable lust. There was something to be said about the proclivity of Faith-created races bending towards being overwhelmingly female. Something about human psychology, especially men who REALLY wanted to live in a world with an abundance of women.
Despite their similarities, goblins and cat girls (people, John had to remind himself – there were some men) were in clear rivalry. Part of that was no doubt geographical. As it so happened, the two races had organized close to each other and both had similar policy goals, that being to recruit men the world over, add them to the local gene pool, and use their power for protection. Such traditions were one of the reasons why there had been an insistence, originally, that John take wives from each nation. Alas, he had to deny and they, given where the wind was blowing, had to relent.
Which brought John to the Nympholympics as an alternative. A competitive event organized by the two nations, inviting all other nymphomaniacs around the world to have a competition in a controlled setting. It was quite literally competitive fucking and it was a competition that they took quite seriously.
Thus, two welcoming committees were fighting. One faction was typically tall and slender, their breasts and hips of average size. The other faction was universally short, with large breasts at the lowest and huge ones at the highest, hips wide and thighs plump. The cat-eared and green-skinned women shoved and wrestled, fighting as much as they could without getting genuinely violent.
Once they noticed John, the intertwined factions separated and formed two lines. Goblins and cat girls stood next to each other, sending poisonous glares at each other while holding their suggestive stances. It was not a military welcome nor was John dressed the part for one.
“AH!” Delicia moaned, bouncing on John’s cock when he stepped down from the bus’ chassis. The goblin alchemist was attached to John’s chest, held in place by an improvised harness that made walk-fucking the shortstack a simple affair. John waited for a moment and put an arm around Rave, approaching the two leaders of the procession with both a cat girl and a goblin as the recipient of his lust.
Tits spilling against his chest, John walked with a bounce in his step. Each exaggerated motion was rewarded with a little squeal. Conveniently, he arrived in front of the two delegates just as a hard orgasm hit Delicia, making the transformed maid squirt all over her Master’s dick. ‘Never before have I felt like I live in a porn plot as intensely as right now,’ the Gamer thought. “I expected to see you two,” he greeted.
Cindy and Worlina stood a couple of steps in front of him. The former was the cat girl that had first interviewed John on a livestream. She was a blonde cat girl, atypically curvy for her kind, and chose to elevate her already considerable beauty with make-up. John may not have been a fan of such plasticity, but he could not deny that it worked.
Worlina was a redheaded prime specimen of a goblin. A bit tall for her kind, at 1,36 metres, but still very much short and very much stacked. Her silky hair was tied up into a ponytail and a pair of glasses sat on her nose, giving her a sexy teacher vibe despite her own nudity.
Both women were caught momentarily incapable of speaking, hornily staring at his cock. John did put on a show, holding Delicia by her tiny waist and fucking her as he waited for a response – further delaying it. He had fucked both of these women, individually and together. He would not be fucking them again. They knew that and they were not wanting for alternatives. Both of them lived and breathed the slut lifestyle.
“See, he’s fucking a goblin!” Worlina finally managed to get words out. “He got himself a goblin!”
“This is Delicia.” John pulled on the alchemist’s hair so her gooey expression was visible, albeit upside down, to the two of them. “One of my maids. She made and took a mutagen so I would have a portable cocksleeve during my stay.”
“Another point to the superiority of shortstacks!” Worlina boasted.
“It has its benefits,” Cindy relented, because she had to. “Alas, you will never get to know what it feels like to slowly walk up to a man and drop to your knees for him. You don’t get to find out what it feels like to be pushed against a wall either, standing there while he harshly takes you from behind.”
“You know that stools exist, yeah?” Worlina asked.
“You know that carrying a stool around with you everywhere makes you look stupid, yeah?” the blonde countered.
John chuckled at their exchange. “Well, I like both a whole lot,” he told them. Truth of the matter was he liked tall women like Cindy more than shortstacks, the members of his harem spelled that much out with certainty. “In any case, I thank you for the large welcome.”
His eyes wandered past the women that had come to greet him and to the crowd behind them. Although goblins and cat girls dominated, John saw a large variety of other species as well. Gnomes, lamias, elves, dwarves, harpies, humans, whoever had the necessary libido to want to attend such an event was present in the nude or in lingerie.
There were men as well, plenty of them. John’s eyes did not linger on them for long. He noted that they were commonly attractive and often the dominant part of whatever kind of relationship they displayed, although not always. Single men he saw very few, which was expected. By typical sex dynamics, if men and women could enter this event as singles, the former would outnumber the later drastically. As such, only women could enter on their own and even then not for all events.
As for the audience, the organizer applied a wanted ratio and then vetted the overabundant applicants. There were about 2 women for every 1 man in attendance and out of those 2 women, every second was either a cat girl or a goblin. The Nympholympics were a thinly veiled opportunity for the Catto and Gobbo Nations to couple up the newest generation with sufficiently perverted and achieved men the world over.
It was a brilliant way for these two nations to prop themselves up, all things considered. Neither people were blessed with above average power by their nature. Cat girls were more agile than the average human and goblins renowned for their ingenuity. Both were balanced out by drawbacks and neither had the sheer mass that humanity had.
“Now, if you would follow me-“ Cindy started.
Only for Worlina to interrupt, “Don’t follow the plastic cat, follow me!”
“Do you want him to get neck issues from looking down?”
“At least I don’t have a tail that gets in the way of looking at my butt!”
Rave tilted her head back at the comment. Before she or John could weigh in on this discussion, another voice joined the conversation.
“Oh quiet, both of you!”
An elderly… cat goblin? Stepped forwards. She was short, which made her a little taller than Worlina, and had both cat ears and tail. They shared the greying dark colour of her hair. The woman walked with a gnarled wood staff in her hand. Her back was unbowed despite her clear age, making the staff more of a ceremonial thing.
John did not have a thing for old women. If he did, he would have found this specimen quite attractive. Even knowing that she was past her best years, he could admit that she was still good looking. Her wrinkles were few and none so deep to diminish too much, same went for the slight loss of tautness in her skin. Her breasts sagged a little further, her nipples were notably darker, but all around her nudity was nothing that detracted from the environment.
Cindy and Worlina both stepped aside, grumbling while letting the elderly woman step forwards. “We have not met in person before, Mister President,” she greeted him. “Sorry for being late, the youngsters did not respect that my knees are not that good for running anymore.”
“We wanted to see the Mind Breaker!” one of the cat girls declared, only to get bonked on the head by the staff.
“Quiet!” the old woman rebuked.
‘The Mind Breaker…?’ John chuckled at the given title. It was a flattering one, considering the context. “We indeed have not met before, Malossa,” he greeted her.
The cat goblin was the organizer of the first Nympholympics. She had been in a unique position to do so, courtesy of her heritage. As John understood, true crossbreeds were a rare thing. Usually, descendants took on parts of both parents in their specific looks, but when it came to the inhuman characteristics like pointy ears, tails, horns, and all of that, they usually were in line with the mother. Usually.
She had since retired, but was still important in social circles. Fusion’s diplomats had talked plenty with her and it was her that made the ultimate push for him to attend this event. This boosted her own family’s reputation, who organized the event to this day, so she got plenty out of it.
“Now, come along, I’ll show you to your mansion,” Malossa said.
Delicia moaned when John took the first step.
