John knocked twice on the door.

“Come in,” the voice from within greeted him.

Handle pushed down, the Gamer pushed open the entrance, then closed it again behind himself. The room he then stood in was of grey and beige stone. Besides some furniture in the middle of them, all of it circled around a laptop and a beanbag, there was nothing of note around. The walls and floor were barren, with the exception of where the inhabitant of the chamber sat.

“You’re really putting in the effort to keep me company.” Nahua’s words were underlined by the steady tock-tock-tock of the hammer in one hand meeting the bottom of the chisel in the other. Stone dust dropped onto the surface of a Cleaning Slime. Every repetition of the motion added to the first sketch of the decoration style so typical of the Aztec culture. “You don’t need to make the effort.”

“There are a lot of us, it’s not much work.” Standing next to her, John inspected the image. It was chaotic and still he could recognize well enough the sketch of a stylistic depiction of a diamond-eyed face and a vulture. He did not comment on it. “Are you doing well?”

“As well as I could do,” Nahua answered. Her voice had regained a little strength since last they talked, but she was still not the woman that he had first met. “How are my people?” she asked, her neutral tone betraying that she was only going through the motions of what she thought should be said.

“Well,” John gave her the answer her mind could digest right now. “Do you want me to stay or would you prefer to be-“

“I don’t want to be alone,” Nahua answered before he could finish the question. In silence, he stood next to her. The tock-tock-tock of the hammer was the only sound. “You lied to me,” she suddenly said.

“I did,” John admitted. “I had to.”

“You had to,” the demigoddess agreed. “I hate that. I hate you.”

John knew she did not mean it fully, yet felt the unpleasant sinking of his stomach all the same. He remained quiet and patient. This was not his time nor space to get emotional.

Nahua, however, had every right to start sobbing. “I hate you. I hate all of this…” The tools in her hand fell to the floor. Her open hands clenched her head instead. “Why… what did I suffer for all this time?! I cut off my limbs over and over again, to alleviate the suffering of people that were doomed from the start?!”

There were no platitudes or advice John could offer that would undo the past. All he could do was kneel down next to her and put a hand on her naked back. “We won’t let you be alone.”

Nathua continued to cry.

____________________________________________________________________________

“Granting me luxury is entirely unnecessary,” Moira stated, then raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Nothing,” John assured. ‘Telling her that she sounds just like Lydia is just going to raise more questions.’ “In any case, I insist.”

The Warden pressed her lips together and glared at the Building he had just put up for her. New Brighton Manour, he had called it. It was located east of the Menagerie Complex, close enough to be in view but not close enough to be bothered by the steady stream of people that the den of cutes and relaxation attracted. A tall wall around the main building and a dedicated Sentry Golem made sure it stayed that way.

“I have installed a Pier for you at the back of the property, right by the little private beach. You can use it to call a ferry whenever you want to visit.” John gestured towards the channel behind the expansive, Victorian style house.

“Why would I need a ferry when you are two bridges over?” Moira asked.

John shrugged. “Maybe you want to sail somewhere else, your call. Anyway, I have installed all of the basic furniture based on Lorelei’s recommendations. If you want to keep a garden, the soil is quite rich.” He kept on listing things until the redhead pinched the bridge of her nose.

“It is way too much,” she insisted.

“I have the resources to treat the friends of my women well,” he told her. ‘Only’ 20 of the excess Room Slots had gone into the mansion and its manifold luxuries. Many more had gone into the Residential District to increase the living standards of the people there. An action that was far from selfless. A sizeable chunk of the people living in the Guild Hall were the pencil pushers of the administration, be it civil or military.

Those people were the crowd that John had to watch out for the most at the moment. The political elite now had two camps, that being the ‘the President’s first duty is to protect Fusion’ versus ‘the Gamer is the Federation’s origin and can do what he wants’ crowds. In the middle was a sizeable group of undecided people.

If John played his cards right, that whole situation would dissolve on its own. Until then, he needed to ensure that the conflict did not spread into other areas. A coup never happened without a new elite ready to take over and the political leaders needed managers to bend things their way on the second layer. Once that effort got organized, things usually got ugly.

All of that was besides the current talk though.

Moira sighed and rubbed her forehead. “You do not know even false humility, do you?”

“I know some humility. Using my wealth to make others more comfortable is a field where I will gladly show off,” he answered with a shrug. “Any more scoldings you want to give me?”

“I almost feel like you would be into that…” the redhead muttered.

Now it was John’s turn to pull his eyebrows together. “I can take a joke, but just so we are clear: I am not the one that takes scoldings.”

“I have heard a lot of how you swing, ‘master’,” Moira drawled in a dry tone. To that, John could chuckle. “Do you never check if you have guests before you start plowing the nearest field?”

“That’s an interesting euphemism… To be fair, I was fucking her way before I got to the door.”

“What do you- What?!” Moira turned crimson as she grasped the implication. “Women are not your walk-and-talk entertainment!”

“Women at large? No. My women? Probably. Eliana? Absolutely. You can ask her next time you see her.”

“I have enough bloody obscenities in my day without entertaining a conversation with that mess,” Moira declared.

Funnily enough, John’s protective instinct did not go off at that insult. Despite the biting tone of the Warden, his intuition told the Gamer that she did not mean it in a disparaging way. Banter was a skill that he had honed to perfection, so he chose to believe in that. “Either way, you could have stopped us at any point.”

“I thought you would stop at some point,” the redhead groaned. “Every second sounded like she was finishing.”

“Well, it was one long climax.”

“That cannot be healthy.”

“Don’t you have experience with it?” he asked, genuinely interested. “Given the Blessing and-“

“This conversation is over!” Moira stomped towards the door and slammed it shut behind her.

‘Well, that is one way to get her to accept the house,’ John joked to himself.

_____________________________________________________________________

John read through the internal communications board of the Fusion Administration with a big smirk. Everyone was chatting about how much they liked their new luxuries and many speculated that they only got to have them because he had brought something back from the expedition into Yucatan. They were wrong, of course, but it was good to let them believe that. It made it more likely they looked at this and future independent actions approvingly.

Optimally, John wanted the bureaucrats to remain neutral overall. If he had to sway them one way or the other, he would obviously choose to make them more loyal to his cause. Little as he wanted yes-men, they were better than ankle biters.

“You coming or not?” Scarlett asked.

The redhead stood in the doorframe, naked except for a leather collar wrapped around her pale neck. Nia stood next to her, the blonde quietly swaying on her feet. A motion that was enigmatic to most, but a clear sign of impatience to John. The pariah was every bit as naked as the technomancer.

“Alright, let’s go,” he agreed.

After he had settled the morning affairs, this Saturday marked the day that John returned to his post. A teleporter brought them to the small kitchen + bedroom side apartment that was nestled between the two offices. John went through the right door and entered the centre of executive power in the Federation.

The office was not much on one hand and truly magnificent on the other. Dark wooden shelves covered the walls, folders upon folders of documents rowed up on them. They were of simple yet competent make. The same could not quite be said about the absolutely massive desk that stood in front of the one-way windows. It was a titan of a workspace, the three monitors, mouse and keyboard on it claiming less than half of the surface.

John walked past the desk first, to close the balcony door that had been opened to let some fresh air into the room prior to his return. The one that had opened it currently sat at a desk halfway between the desk and the official entrance on the opposite wall. Unlike the president’s mahogany monstrosity, Ehtra’s workstation was a glass tabletop on a thin, metal frame. Beatrice’s desk, opposite of Ehtra’s, was exactly the same.

Both maids were working quietly, answering emails and checking documents. Beatrice did so with the utmost concentration. Ehtra gave John and the woman a blushing glance and rubbed her thighs together. He could see it all plainly. The purpose of the desks’ design was that he could see everything. Only the maid uniforms covered them.

On a whim, John walked towards the large closet near the side entrance door. Opening it up revealed three holes in the wall. All three were filled with pale bubble butts. Variations in skin colour, the shade of the wet pussy lips, and shapes told John exactly who had willingly confined themselves there. In swift succession, he gave Aclysia, Claire, and Momo a smack to their rears. Then, he closed the doors again. If they remained there, he would make use of them later.

For now, John walked towards his desk. “Finally,” Scarlett complained and got down on all fours. She crawled into the cushioned leg compartment, joining the blonde that was already waiting for him. As he sat down on his chair, a thing of red leather that matched the table in its grandeur, he tapped the button to lose his pants.

The naked women’s shared space under the table was large and comfortable. A lot of work had gone into ensuring that. Nothing worse than an unwilling work time blowjob.

Rolling forwards, John boxed them in between his legs and the walls of the table. Leaning back, he watched the duo be the first to restart the custom of the Gamer’s blowjob schedule. ‘My most brilliant idea to motivate myself to look forwards to office work,’ he thought, while eager tongues coaxed his cock to grow erect. Nia took him into her throat first.

A little clack announced the changing of his chair setting. The backrest locked in, preventing him from leaning back enough to keep the two comfort holes in view. It only made the sensations more intense. The wet noises of their bobbing and their moans remained very present. From now until he called it a day, his cock would only be bereft of a woman’s touch when there was a shift change between his haremettes or if he decided to stretch his legs.

Pressing the power button on his tower, John watched the screens come to life instantly. The desktop was barren, containing only a few icons for the work related programs. John opened Fusion’s internal communications network and got to work.

There was a notable backlog and yet there was less of it than one would have thought. Momo and Beatrice had been constantly working on the road and the body that John had left in the Guild Hall had gone through all of the most necessary documents as they popped up. That, plus the multi-bodied chancellor had been hammering through the backlog since she returned. Even if Momo was currently hanging in the closet with two of her fellow maids, she had dozens of additional bodies that could be working in her own office.

‘Note to self: sit under Momo’s desk for an hour to work off some of the face sitting hours I owe her,’ the Gamer thought.

His version of normalcy was certainly back.