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The Gamer Chapter 1356 – Camp Fire 2
🕑 Added 2023-01-02 05:28:02 +0000 UTCThe slab had hardened. John had spent ten hours straight working until his spine ached and his back was crooked. Except Gamer’s Body prevented his spine from aching for long and his back from suffering the permanent consequences of hauling around building materials by the bucketload. Still, the work was essentially done now. What had been needed to be covered in plaster had been covered. The wooden frames and insulation were in place. All that remained to be done was the electrical wiring on this floor. Then, the dry walls would be secured in place and all was done regarding the walls of the first floor.
That was for another day. Ten hours was a proper day of work and John celebrated its end by gathering with everyone else around the campfire. Lydia was present, Hailey was not, it was a good old-fashioned gathering. Complete with John having a deep contact cuddle with Scarlett.
No intense lovemaking, just her sitting in his lap, slowly turning her hips while they hugged and kissed. John ran his hand through her straight, scarlet hair all the way down to her bubble butt, before taking a handful. “You really are just gorgeous with long hair,” he whispered to her.
“Implying I wasn’t gorgeous before,” Scarlett responded with a straight, judgemental face. He knew her too well to not catch the jest in her eyes. Arms wrapped around his neck, she held him tightly and together they reached completion. A minute later, a stuffed redhead rose off his lap.
They laid down next to each other and looked at the campfire. Gnome had ‘pushed’ the grill underground and Salamander piled wood and coal onto the fireplace. Now a tall flame was illuminating the night, giving heat – even though they didn’t really need any warmth. Naked, they all sat at a respectable distance, not keen on being hit by bouncing sparks.
Individual conversations around the campfire were silenced when Rave got up, pulling everyone’s attention to her. John wondered what she had to announce. The haremette meeting regarding Hailey had been yesterday after the country gal had left. Today was the last day before they set out for their hot spring weekend.
“How y’all feeling about-“
“You stole that from Hailey!” John called out.
“Ya mind?” Rave asked, winking at her boyfriend.
“I don’t need your accent to become even further corrupted.”
“I have nyo idea what ya talkin’ meowth, tigerrrr,” Rave deliberately overplayed everything, then clapped her hands to get things back on track. “Anyhowzels, ya in for a continuation of the roasting thing Sylph had us do 2 weeks ago? We only ever got through… six of us…?” Pointing at one haremette after the other, Sylph, Metra, Beatrice, Gnome, Lee, and finally herself, she made sure she got the right number. “Yeah, six. And we’d continue with John.”
“Are you sure you aren’t just suggesting this because you hold a grudge about what I said last time?” John wondered.
“Ja,” Rave replied with a mean grin. A sweeping gesture pointed John towards the centre of the camp. Salamander dimmed the fire, so the flickering flames did not obscure him to everyone on the other side. “Reminder: ya gotta be creative about the insult or target something that ain’t terribly obvious. Making fun of John’s speaking habits is way too easy.”
“You’re not as smart as you think you are,” Nathalia was the first to speak up.
“Yes, I am.” John crossed his arms and smiled. “I have it in writing, got to try something more than that.”
There was some silence around the campfire. Silence that John had to do his best to remind himself was not a statement on his lack of flaws. Rather, his speaking habits, his weakness to women, his pride, all of them were getting teased on the daily and thus not worthwhile for pursuit.
“It’s really fucking respectable that you fuck a craving for motherhood into everyone you meet.” John needed to turn, to face Scarlett. “You know, considering that your father was never around to teach you how to be a man.”
John slowly inhaled and took that in. “Well played,” he responded sincerely, feeling the deep conflict between love for his parent and the acknowledgement that he truly had spent many of John’s formative years chasing promotions. It hurt to just the right degree to make him think about it without growing resentful. ‘Note to self, have at least one body to always spend time with kids.’ “Scarlett, your turn.”
“I guess that is what I have to take for the opportunity to roast you.” Scarlett groaned and rose to her feet, switching places with John. Throwing her dense, silky hair backwards in an arrogant gesture, the redhead waited for anyone to hit her.
Again, the campfire took a few moments to consider. Scarlett was a tough nut to crack, cold as she typically was. The androgynous beauty shifted her weight left to right, not even pretending standing nudely in the open, cum running down her smooth legs, had any effect on her.
“Small tits!” Sylph shouted.
“And?” Scarlett dismissively raised an eyebrow.
“Dunno, just came to mind!” the air spirit babbled. “Small itty bitty bits, small cute itty bitty bits, very itty bitty titty committee.”
Nightingale’s feathers whispered softly. She cleared her throat, then said, “Unfortunate that you’re red all over, when the only colour you love is green.”
“Socialism-Capitalism joke, very funny yes.” Scarlett waved off. “There’s no teasing me with the failure of other people. I’m rich, they’re starving, try again.”
“Ooooh, Scarlett,” Siena moaned. John looked over to the midnight elemental. Playfully, she pulled her lower lip down with one of her claws. “You have so much money, yes?”
“A fair amount,” Scarlett responded, eyebrow once again raised.
“Influence, a wonderful man, loving women all around you, access directly to the richest creature on Earth in Dramar, and there’s just one thing you still desire, isn’t there? One little secret you can’t tell anybody.” Siena practically sang those words, her tail devilishly curving in the air. “You want to sound more like a girl.”
“WHAT?!” Scarlett snapped. “That’s crazy! You’re fucking crazy!” Half of Fusion’s economy stamped her foot in defiance.
‘Oh wow, that did it,’ John thought, watching Scarlett forcefully regain her composure. The redhead’s struggle with being more girly since he had pulled her out of her business shell was something he, of course, knew about. ‘Must be something specifically about the way she speaks? I doubt saying she wants a flower-ornamented purse would have this effect.’
“Fine, you fucking fiend,” the redhead cussed with the intensity of a New Yorker. “Take your fucking victory.”
Siena smiled elegantly. Her stiletto high heels clacked as she took elegant steps towards the centre of the camp. There was confidence in her every gesture. Confidence that was immediately destroyed by a cascade of shouts. Everyone tried to be the first to say the obvious.
“Shoes.” “You’re a fucking pair of shoes, you shit heel!” “A woman worthy only of covering feet.” “Shoes, shoes, shoes!” “I hear you’re basic streetwear…” Those were just the loudest of the shouts.
Siena’s tail slammed into the campfire, sending a cloud of sparks into the night. “I hate all of you,” she hissed. The constellations in her eyes rose in silvery intensity, just like the moon-like irises did. “I am NOT a fucking pair of shoes!” she yelled. Breathing heavily, she growled inelegantly at whoever giggled at her rage. That only caused further laughter.
“Alright, settle down.” John opened up his arms, to give Siena a place of shelter. Agitated, still hissing at everyone else, she took the opportunity. Moments later, John was cuddling a very angry shadow spirit. ‘It’d be less effective if she let us make fun of it more regularly,’ John thought.
“That one was hella obvious,” Rave reminded everyone. She was giggling herself, so the enforcement of the rules fell on flat ears. Sometimes, something that was obvious could still be hilarious. “Who was first?”
“I believe that would be Nia.” Lee pointed at the blonde right next to her. No disagreement was raised and suddenly the pariah stood where Siena had been moments ago. Salamander was also in the middle of the camp.
“Ignore me, just cleaning up this mess,” she told everyone, while putting the pyre back together probably. “Fucking moody bitch ruined my campfire.”
“You called me SHOES!” Siena shouted.
“Get over it, you sadistic slut.”
“NO!”
‘God, she is adorable when she’s derailed,’ John thought, stroking Siena’s back. She was quivering with rage. A hug was not the best antidote to that, but it was the best he had. Carefully he eyed the sharp extensions her fingers had become. ‘Although I would prefer it if she kept those away.’
“Stateme-“ Beatrice wound up.
“No, ya got a speech embargo,” Rave interrupted the sassy maid immediately. “You’re too good at this, ain’t dealing with that.”
“Alright, then let me at it!” Delicia jumped to her feet with such vigour that her tits bounced up and down. Granted, anything she did would have made those tits bounce. John observed that practically every time she moved and he had not yet gotten tired of repeating that fact to himself. “Let me think, let me think,” the bratty maid considered. “Oh, yeah, right!” Delicia executed an anime-level pointing gesture. “You grin like a villain!”
Nia stood there, plain faced for several seconds. Then she suddenly disappeared.
“Uhm… was that too much?” Delicia asked, her hand slowly lowering. Her confidence wavering put a smile on John’s face. It showed consideration for her fellow haremette and that was among the most important qualities.
“Just give her a minute,” the Gamer calmed down his unofficial fifth maid. Nia eventually appeared back in the middle of the campfire, holding a mirror. She smiled, and like most of Nia’s deliberate smiles these days, it was pretty good. The thing was that those were not her ‘real’ smiles. “Nia, can you look over here for a moment? I forgot, what was your opinion on steak cooking shows?”
“A medium rarely well done,” Nia responded without missing a beat. It was one of her favourite puns and it never failed to put a smile on her face. A big, toothy smile, going from ear to ear, appearing ever so slowly. It was the smile of someone who had been raised by a certain skull-faced god.
“There it is!” Delicia shouted, pointing again. “There is the villainous smile! So creepy! So evil!” Nia turned her head fast and checked herself in the mirror. Then she disappeared again. “Wa… was that too much?” the alchemist asked again, even less certain this time.
“No, you’re good. She’s just returning the mirror.”
“I mean, yeah, of course I’m good.” Delicia swiftly regained her confidence, stemming her hands into her wide hips. “I’m a highly concentrated bundle of verbal and alchemical genius. You should worship at my feet, nobles and gods alike! Come on, glorify this peasant!”
“Actually, it’s your turn to be roasted,” John reminded her.
“Ah, well, alright then.” Unbothered, Delicia strut forwards, keeping her self-assured, smug smile the entire time. “Do your worst then.”
“If I may?” Nightingale stated and got up. If he hadn’t been rubbing Siena’s butt, John would have rubbed his hands in anticipation. “You are an inconsiderate, annoying little brat, that I have the misfortune of calling my best friend,” the harpy unloaded. “Your cooking is mediocre, your attitude poor, your thankfulness non-existent. A tease of legendary proportions, rubbing my every nerve. I share with you this harem, by the grace of me, my sisters, and our patriarch.”
Delicia was waving around, tapping her throat, stomping her foot, and shouting silently. Evidently, Nightingale was using her powers to put the shortstack on mute while she delivered her monologue. Displaying delicious brattiness, Delicia could do naught but listen.
“Above all I wish to make a singular statement,” Nightingale walked a little bit closer, “you chose to be my maid.”
“Wawawawa… what, no, I’m… John’s future… No, wait that… I’m a harem maid and that makes me…” The realization finally hit Delicia. “No, impossible! I cannot be your maid, you’re a bird! Birds are pets!”
“You should have considered beforehand,” Nightingale hummed.
John felt like this was an inside joke he wasn’t privy to. Delicia and Nightingale continued bickering, sending accusations and statements back and forth. Soon enough, Nightingale was just as agitated as Delicia was. The two were pushing against each other, back and forth, just like they had been before the alchemist joined their ranks.
The roasting ended there, for the day. The two occupied the centre stage for too long. Individual conversations rose up again and by the time Delicia and Nightingale stepped away, the momentum was already gone. Their argument continued in the form of a blowjob contest. John was happy to have added this sexual note to their relationship. He was the prime beneficiary.
Obviously, Nightingale won.
