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The Gamer Chapter 1504 – Divided Gates Meeting 9 – Pride and Submission
🕑 Added 2023-08-25 22:46:36 +0000 UTCJohn knew he would have lost.
Continuing would have been futile.
The Quest was even marked as completed.
He still loathed that he had lost. “A fantastic bout,” Krieg said and extended his hand, this time in an entirely friendly shake. The god of war was back to 2 limbs and 1 head, and the swirls of coal-black mist appeared softer, insofar such a thing was possible.
“I can only agree!” Romulus smacked both of them on their backs with a friendliness that John had not experienced from the Apex before, but Krieg evidently was used to it.
“Thank you,” John responded as diplomatically as possible. Silver lining was that Romulus and Krieg immediately began to talk like old war buddies. It reminded John of how he and Maximillian talked when they weren’t familiar with the company. In that back and forth, he saw an easy out to excuse himself.
The elementals, once separated, had enough vitality left to reshape their bodies properly. Still, Undine healed them up to full. John, in the meantime, decided to go somewhere he could grind his teeth without anybody looking. Against other instincts, he walked a big curve around Lu Zhi. Somehow, he just knew the empress would mess with him if she got the chance, and for all the appreciation he typically had for opinionated women, right now he needed just a tad of quiet.
Under the excuse that he wanted to check on what damage the flung Creator Puppet had done to the gardens, he moved out and then moved right past that place. Eventually, he came across a lagoon, separated from a large lake through a cliff. Like all good artificial holes in the ground, this one had a cave attached to it. There, John found the peace and quiet he wanted.
He wasn’t even that angry. The loss had been predictable. Really, it was ludicrous they had lasted that long. Krieg was the literal god of war, there were incredibly few other combatants in the world that could outclass him. Even knowing all of that, John could not suppress the lingering annoyance. On a 1 to 10 scale, he was at 3 or 4 of angry. Which, the reasonable part of him knew, was way too high for a calculated loss.
‘God, I hate that,’ John thought. He wasn’t even sure whether he meant his pride or his loss with that. He leaned against the limestone wall of the cave and closed his eyes. To calm down, he counted his breaths.
He got to 13 before he heard footsteps approach him. Long steps of naked feet, an unsteady frequency to them. The person they belonged to was second-guessing themselves every other step, but forged on anyway. John’s lips curled just a tad just listening to that. He opened an eye just as Eliana’s head peeked around the corner.
Spotted, the pretty little psycho hastily walked over.
“You got pretty fucked there, didn’t you?” she asked.
“Yes,” John responded, the corners of his lips dropping again.
“Fuck,” Eliana cursed at herself. “I didn’t… fuck, urgh, I’m so shit with saying… just fuck my face?” The hopeful glint in her eye was slightly out of place.
“Eliana, I’m just mildly angry at the fact that I couldn’t do something I knew was impossible. Give me five minutes and I’ll be fine,” John assured her. “This isn’t your fault or anybody else’s. I just hate losing a little bit too much.”
“Yeah, but… you could still slam the bitch breaker down my throat until you feel better,” Eliana suggested, insistently.
“Why?!” John snapped at her. He immediately felt bad. “Sorry, just… you’re poking me while I’m down.”
Eliana squirmed a little bit, her eyes moving from the floor, to him, and back. There was a blush to her face. A flustered blush, at that. “Soooo, you know how you’re… just way too fucking good for me?”
“No, I am not and neither am I in the mood to…” John stopped himself and forced himself to listen. “Where is this going?”
“You know how I am really fucking screwed in the head?” At least that one, he could not argue with. “I keep thinking about… well, I don’t want you to be angry with me, I think I would cry like a weak-ass bitch, but if you’re already angry you can… cum down my throat until you feel better?” Flustered and just a tad hopeful, she looked up at him like an attention-seeking puppy. “Plus, whatever the fuck you can do to distract me from the fact that the walking corpse is here,” she growled.
Mention of Mengele did tick John’s anger up by 1 level. “Are we alone?” he asked.
“Alone enough,” Eliana assured. “Jane’s keeping watch. Nightingale’s blocking the sound out.”
‘Of course they are,’ John thought. He still hesitated. Fucking his women while he was angry just had a bitter taste to it. It said a lot that it was Eliana that sought him out, rather than any of the brats. There was a world of difference between actually enraged and romantically riled up.
But Eliana was clearly harbouring a fantasy.
And it had been about an hour since that bathroom orgy.
“I’ll be rough,” he warned her.
“Fuck ye-ssssssssss,” Eliana’s answer started enthusiastic, then turned into an ecstatic hiss. He had grabbed her by her long hair. Head pulled backwards, he lost not even a second ripping her to the ground. Hard, her thick thighs hit the cave floor. For one moment she laid flat, then he bowed down and dragged her up into a kneeling position.
“Can’t even fall right,” he growled at her and nearly slammed her face into his crotch. Immediately her eyelids fluttered. “You love that smell, don’t you?”
“Yesh,” Eliana mumbled.
“You’re just a comfort hole.” It wasn’t a question, so he did not get an answer, while she rubbed her nose against his straining pants. “Say it. Say you’re just a comfort hole that needs her Master’s cock down her throat.”
“I’m just a comfort hole that needs her Master’s cock down her throat,” Eliana repeated. Words that sounded rough and unreasonable from his mouth, her purplish pink lips turned into the most factual statement in the world. No wonder this masochistic submissive had managed to train him into her ideal dom.
“Beautiful little hole.” It was as genuine a compliment as he could make, between anger and the demands of his role. Eliana’s breath hitched in response and she sighed wantonly on the exhale. “Open wide.”
Eliana leaned back as far as he would let her. Lips described that perfect O-shape, a skill acquired through hours upon hours of wearing her favourite ring gag. Losing no time, John let his pants disappear and smacked Eliana’s face with his hard cock. Her breathing stopped again for a moment, but her lips did not move in the slightest. No matter how often his hard erection slapped her cheeks, she remained devotedly still.
Perhaps she had expected he would just give her the plain old face fuck treatment, but John’s mood demanded something more. Suddenly picking up the short submissive, he turned her upside down. Plump thighs were settled on his shoulders, her leather thong slipped aside, her back pushed against the cave wall, and her face aligned with his cock.
Pressing her hard against the stone, John penetrated her lower and upper lips with cock and tongue respectively. Saliva and pussy juice flowed in excess. Angry thrusts drove his manhood into the depths of her throat with little regard for what tiny bits of resistance her body put up. “Cum,” he demanded between licks of her pussy. Sweet honey overflowed, but that wasn’t enough for John. He pinched her ass, while grinding the back of her head against the cave wall with his short thrusts. No more than a fifth of his cock ever left her lips. He snapped his fingers, and the spasming cocksleeve went rigid for one moment. “Are you my cum slut? Are you my cum bucket? Do you love my cock?” Three nods made the walls of her throat shift around him. The hypnotic suggestions turned her on so hard her skin felt like it could heat a small building. “Then cum for your Master. Let me feel your screams.”
Eliana’s high-pitched, muffled cries vibrated around his cock. Still, John wasn’t satisfied. There was no greater outlet for his negative emotions than seeing a submissive absolutely dissolved by bliss. He repeated the order, again and again, licking her cunt and circling her clit all the while. Sometimes he stopped to smack her bubble butt or bite her thigh.
Then, she finally squirted. An explosion of pussy juice filled John’s mouth, and more of it ran down her midriff, stopping temporarily where blueish, pale skin was covered by enticing leather. In the middle of that orgasm, John cranked up her sensitivity to the maximum.
“GLACK! GLACK! GLACK!” The aggressive sounds of him well and truly fucking her face echoed in the cave. John pinned her legs against the cave wall with his shoulders, while gripping her pretty little head with his hands. Soft hair was bunched up between his clawing fingers. He kept her steady for each hard thrust in and out of her throat. The Mandala Sphere served as an alternative viewpoint, letting him see Eliana’s face.
Upside down, the masochistic submissive was a red-faced image of the words ‘getting used’. She got the bare minimum of breaks to breathe, something she only had to do because she loved the asphyxiation. Her cheeks were caved in as best she could provide at this tempo. Repeated failure created exceedingly lewd slurping sounds. Her mouth was ever agape. The sticky mixture of precum, saliva, and throat fluids ran down her cheeks and forehead. Her eyes were slightly red from the delighted abuse. Where his balls slapped against her face and where the base of his cock met her lips, long strands were drawn.
With each thrust, John’s aggression went higher and higher. He wouldn’t say this was the roughest pounding he had given her even in the last three days, but there certainly was a different character to this engagement. “Cum,” he growled, again, and she obeyed, like she always did. “Good – girl!”
Two last thrusts, then his orgasm suddenly overwhelmed him. Again, the masochistic cumdump squirted, hard enough to leave a few splatters on the cave wall this time. Buried deep in her bulging throat, John shot a torrent of his seed up. The pleasure was intense – and oddly short-lived. Although he came no less than usual, it all felt so much less prolonged than usual.
The anger had left him, left behind was more desire. Had Eliana been… not Eliana, there may have been guilt, but he knew what she was about.
Still, he lowered her to the ground with all the softness a dom had for a quivering submissive. Eyes rolled up and giggling, the messed up masochist was out of it – but that only meant this next part would be a bit of a haze for her.
John rolled up her lower body and squatted over her. Angling his cock was a bit awkward, but once he was inside that tight cunt, the gripping walls did not let him go. For another five minutes, he piledrove her into the ground. Already messy and covered with her own juices, she became positively soaked with her overflowing honey. Without the diminishing presence of his lapping tongue, her near constant gushing just soiled the entirety of her front.
Then he came for the second time. The breeding crazy shortie had the usual reaction to having her womb painted white, only further increased by the hypnosis and the pleasure increase. She came and screamed so loudly that John doubted for a few moments whether Nightingale’s protection was enough. He did not care either, he was far too taken with how gorgeous Eliana was and how much her cunt clamped down in an effort to milk him of every drop.
This orgasm felt longer, more satisfying. ‘Yeah, fucking in anger really isn’t that great,’ John decided, afterwards. Pulling away, he reached into his inventory to pull out a steamed towel. He wiped off his face, while Eliana remained stuck, ass high in the air, oozing the first drops of cum. ‘Both make a mess, though.’ He snapped his fingers. “Cleanse.”
There was no visible difference, Eliana was just too blissed out to care about the hypnotic suggestions.
Scratching the back of his head, John contemplated how to deal with this situation. There were three ways: get Undine down here to clean her up, just have her walk around all messy and dribbling cum for the rest of the day, or insist she do her regenerative stuff.
“Dooo I haaaave toooooo?” Eliana slurred, when she was coherent enough to listen to him.
“Yes,” John said, deliberately using his slightly deeper, more assertive dom voice.
It cut through the post-orgasmic mind-fog and Eliana began manipulating her body to deal with the various pieces of evidence all over her. Her belly deflated ever so slightly, as the two loads in her stomach and cunt were digested or ‘eaten’ by the immune system. Her ragged breathing rapidly returned to normal, the overload of oxytocin and other happy chemicals in her brain was removed, and about three seconds later, she reached for his towel.
“I liked the second fucking more,” she confessed.
“Good,” John said, relieved. He would not have known how to deal with it if Eliana had awoken to the kink of him fucking her with genuine anger in his heart. Occasionally that sounded… doable, but regularly was poison for the relationship.
Even once she had towelled off the external signs of their lovemaking, she remained with that wonderful glow that the freshly satisfied had. She had needed that several times over after just the limited exposure to her torturer today. Traditional cuddles would ensue after the meeting concluded.
Eliana hung onto his arm when they left the cave. They picked up Rave and Nightingale on the way back, the latter deliberately foregoing competition for his other side in favour of the matriarch.
The attendees of the meeting had split somewhat. Some had returned indoors, many had dispersed over the garden, many more remained at the amphitheatre still, where two members of Rex Germaniae were now engaged in a fencing match. Lydia and Lu Zhi were watching in the first row.
John dropped her a quick message.
John: Want to talk?
Lydia: The dance will be soon enough, my love.
John could see the console close, invisible to everyone else. Sneaking in a glance over her shoulder, she shot him a sorry little smile. He returned a forgiving wink. The subtle emotions that text alone could not convey.
“Had your fun?” The silvery smooth voice of Luna pulled John’s attention aside. The moon goddess held a cocktail glass in one hand, a toothpick with a skewered olive on it in the other. “With Krieg, I mean.” She elegantly moved the olive to her lips and pulled it off with a fluid motion of her hand and white teeth.
She definitely did not mean with Krieg.
