Nympholympics 4 – Horny Customs and Horny Village

The mansion was everything John could ask for.

The central building had three floors. Two wings extended out to the sides. The west wing had only one floor and was more of a workshop, all things considered, wrapping around an isolated segment of the garden that enveloped the whole property. The east wing had two floors, with a tower at the end that oversaw most of Horny Village.

Architecturally, it was difficult to place. There were traces of the Tudor style of building, with the visible breams and white plaster. The roof with its light green shingles did not match the usually slanted structure of that style, however, instead taking on rounded forms that emulated hills or a woman’s curves. Windows were usually round and large, only a few taking on the typical rectangular shape where the demands of spacing made it so.

Delicia was the head of the group, but only because she continued to hang from the Gamer’s front while he and Rave took the actual helm.

The inside of the mansion was every bit as lavish as the outside. Corridors connected vast rooms, many of which were the usual. Bathrooms, kitchens, living rooms, a home cinema, all of that. Other things were not as typical.

“This is the pillory room,” Malossa said, after opening the door. The room they entered was subdivided in 3 by half walls. Each wall had a set of holes in them at a different height and each hole came with its own flavour of restrictive device. One wall was for glory holes, another for wall butts, and the third was the traditional pillory set-up.

John found it amusing this existed and was apparently common enough to warrant being shown. He did not comment on it being unusual. This was a fit for his lifestyle, as were the sex-game room, the bondage chamber and the sensory deprivation cellar. They even had a padded cell that existed just in case John wanted to ‘get freaky with it’.

The most ludicrous design element was revealed right at the end.

“Did not think you’d install a milk box,” Lee said and gestured at the wooden rectangle next to the door. It did have a resemblance with the kind of box that people would have dropped milk (or other daily deliveries) into. A sliding panel on both sides gave easy access to the contents without anyone having to enter or leave the house.

“Milk box?” Malossa sounded confused, then looked at what was pointed out. “Weird name for the sleeve box. I guess there is milking involved though.”

“Sleeve… box?” Lee asked slowly. “Does that mean you put a woman in there or what?”

“Yeah?” Malossa chuckled, then realized she had to explain. “I thought you knew, considering you made one of your haremettes a walk sleeve in the same way. In the Gobbo Nation, we have a tradition of draining the balls of men before they go to work. Single men often subscribe to a freeuse service, then your cocksleeve for the day gets dropped off already nice and roped up in the sleeve box in the morning. The shortstack gets pounded and then collected from the box later. For men with partners, the sleeve box usually contains whichever haremette has the privilege of being the carry-fuck partner for the day, pre-roped by her fellow haremettes.”

John just nodded along with all of that. For his personal sensibilities, he found the widespread use of ‘freeuse services’ odd. Having a prostitute delivered every morning as a part of normal culture sounded concerning both on the levels of STDs and for the prostitutes that were doing that work. However, that was applying human sensibilities. John could only assume that there was a sizeable section of the goblin population that found fulfilment in that kind of lifestyle. He also had to assume that there were strict punishments for people that mistreated their cocksleeves.

A younger him definitely would have looked further into the freeuse services, but he fell in the latter category now. The only restrictive factor here was that the box was clearly built for a shortstack. Even if they tightly wrapped up Sylph, she would have found the box too small to comfortably rest in.

“Does the Catto Nation have a similar custom?” he asked, out of interest.

“We have the superior custom of Heat,” Cindy declared swiftly. “Every evening, the horny men and women meet in the local community centre and have an orgy. Everyone gets their needed orgasms.”

“Urgh, you don’t get it – what’s the point if you don’t seduce a man into giving you that nice and proper ploughing?” Worlina wanted to know.

“Your hyper-submissive species should just know their place. We felines are dignified in our nymphomania,” Cindy retorted.

“Please, we’re all sluts here, however you want to express that,” Malossa reprimanded both, rolling her eyes all the while. She turned back to John after. “You will usually find a counterpart for one nation’s tradition in the other. In the Gobbo Nation anything that puts women in a more submissive position is usually exaggerated. The Catto Nation is more human-adjacent in their expression of rampant sexuality, so the more vanilla flavours like orgies, consistent partners, and all of that jazz.”

John was not sure he would qualify orgies as vanilla, but everything was relative and it was not worth the semantics argument. In any case, this made enough sense to him. Even if both species were horny, it was quite apparent that goblins were fetish-fuel for doms and cat girls were fetish-fuel for more regular men. Both were a lot more promiscuous than average human women though.

Traditions would necessarily flow from there. Both societies, John already knew, had a much higher degree of children raised outside of marriage, but it was not a problem for them. They had the necessary genetics, customs and institutions to continue propagating as a healthy society regardless. One had to wonder how much of that could be copied to humans. By the current understanding John had of Faith, goblins, cat people, and indeed every other fantastical race was essentially an exaggerated or isolated facet of humanity’s gestalt. They were adjacent to humans, they had aspects of humans, but they had an internal consistency that humans could never achieve.

‘They’re really different races making different societies. Close enough to be understood but not close enough to really map onto my understanding of the world,’ John thought. There was a beauty in that. It also helped that there were plenty of humans, diverse as his own species was, that would find themselves more at home in that kind of environment.

“Anyway, this is your property in the area now,” Malossa told him.

“Permanently?” he asked, just to be certain.

She nodded. “We have the space. Anyway, I have other VIPs to greet. None as important as you, but you know how it is.” She slipped one foot out of her floppy sandals and scratched the back of her knee. “Any more questions?”

“We’ll get ourselves situated,” John assured.

Malossa, Cindy and Worlina left shortly thereafter. John could smell that the latter two were lowkey hoping he’d ask them to stay so he could test the differences in their cultures firsthand… but he did not. Instead, he continued to walk fuck Delicia. He had not put her down at any point. He had pumped three loads into her by now though and she was only producing cockdrunk giggles by now.

“I’ll give her a break after I go up the tower,” he decided. “Anyone want to come with?”

That was everyone, but the tower was not at all big enough to house the whole of them simultaneously. They therefore limited the group to Rave, Aclysia and Eliana. Delicia was physically there, but mentally she was drowning in cum.

The tower was a very simple structure. A winding staircase around a pillar that held up a lookout at the top. A small table up there allowed for coffee between a group no larger than four. Windows all around gave a view of Horny Village.

That the Nympholympics were significant despite the overall small power of the Gobbo and Catto Nations was apparent when gazing across the Protected Space. The infrastructure was impressive but scarce, cutting through the pine forest that dominated this Utah valley. In various places, the trees had been cut down, replaced with a water park here or a sex gym there. Attractions were manifold to keep the guests engaged between the events that would take place in the 10’000 people stadium that sat at the heart of it all. Around it was the proper Horny Village, an assortment of buildings and shops where the people maintaining all of this between the festivities lived.

It wasn’t any particular facility or change to the landscape that showed how important this place was. The Nympholympics had existed for several decades, that was more than enough time for even a mundane place to assemble an impressive amount of landmarks. No, what truly showed that the Nympholympics had garnered support was that the mansion John was currently in was at least 3 kilometres away from the stadium at the centre.

This was a category 3 Protected Space. There was an IBMA somewhere. This kind of effort was usually reserved for large Abyssal Cities.

Providing an outlet for the powerful to live out their most intense sexual fantasies garnered influential favours. Apparently, a High Fateweaver had, at some point, enjoyed the Nympholympics enough to provide a substantial amount of his work to them for a discount.

John basically bounced down the stairs, rutted into Delicia at the base of the staircase, then handed her over to Aclysia afterwards for cleaning. The bratty maid had decided she wanted to be his cocksleeve for the duration of their stay, so he would give her exactly that. “But do take the collar off during the actual part of cleaning,” he told her. “I’ll put it back on her when I want.”

“Affirmative,” Aclysia stated and carried Delicia to the nearest bath. Before the alchemist would be put in hot water, she would no doubt get a tongue cleaning.

John returned to the living room. Already, most of the haremettes had dispersed. After being crammed into one space for several hours, they used the time to get some solo time. There was plenty of space to be had for that. Rave and Eliana were still with John and he found Hailey, Nathalia and Salamander sitting about. The three busty women were wrestling. Not the oil variety that John very much liked to see, but arm wrestling instead.

Nathalia sat on one side of the coffee table, Salamander and Hailey on the other. The dragoness was staring at the two of them with a bored expression. Hailey was red from exertion. Salamander grit her teeth. Each woman was pushing against one of Nathalia’s arms.

The level gap was closing day by day, but the goddess was still a beast of Physical Stats. Salamander was more of an all-rounder and Hailey was a crafter. Even if they had the same level, Nathalia would have been John’s choice in the situation.

“Guess you feel at home here?” he asked the horny dragoness.

“You sound teasing, my mate,” Nathalia growled, then slammed Hailey’s hand on the table.

“Ahhhh… muscles of steel, this gal!” the country gal drew her arm back and shook out her wrist.

Nathalia half-turned to John. Salamander took advantage of the changed situation to cheat. She grabbed the edge of the table and pushed. Nathalia’s arm merely quivered. “I will not be criticized for my desires by the man who I chose because his Libido exceeds my own.”

John raised a finger. He opened his mouth. He stopped. He lowered his finger. She had got him there. His base Libido was 250, and while Source of Satisfaction put a considerable debuff on that when he was not erotically involved (-100), it increased it by the same amount when he did. By pure mathematics, he was more than twice as horny as Nathalia. He just did not wear it as openly… arguably.

‘Actually, all things considered, my life is probably hornier than hers ever was,’ he thought. “Point taken,” he relented. “In any case, we have the rest of today and tomorrow off… Anyone want to go on a walk?”

“Nope,” said Rave and went to find the jacuzzi.

“Fuck no,” said Eliana, adjusting the BDSM harness and the toys inside her holes.

“I have no interest,” said Nathalia and yawned.

“Lat----terrrrr,” said Salamander, trying to push the immovable hand.

“Sure thing, hon’,” agreed Hailey.

Thus, he went out with the country gal.