The First Harem Tournament 19 – Start of Day 2

John woke up to the usual game of ‘who is sucking him off?’

The first clue he got was that the mouth enveloping him was certainly human. Soft lips glided over his shaft, a tongue lavished his length, the wet, sticky walls of the Harmonia’s throat received him with the mildest flutter, a distant reminder of a long overcome gag reflex. John groaned aloud when the woman slowly pulled back, arching tongue pressing against his underside.

There was no haste to the motion, neither was it so methodical that John considered it noteworthy. Indeed, the mixture of learned and instinctual narrowed the field to just a few. Lydia was one option, but he would have heard that oral royal moan already. Lorelei, similarly, still had an orgasmic throat courtesy of the changes the chastity belt had made to her. Delicia would have been another option, though the hypnosis was still in effect.

That narrowed it down to… “Lee,” John groaned and put his hand on the harem’s youngest head. The texture of her hair, straight as it was, confirmed his choice. An approving hum later, she let him take control. Keeping her head steady, her throat filled the large bedroom with repeated ‘GLACK! GLACK! GLACK!’ noises as he thrust up into it, to soon spill his seed in her.

It really couldn’t be understated how much of a morale boost waking up like this was. Though the memories were growing fainter by the day, he did recall being the shut-in nerd that only dreamt of a life like this.

From bed to shower to breakfast table, the harem moved in its usual stream of waking women. John was the nucleus of activity, his three bodies fucking and massaging his multitude of loves. His cum had long since replaced coffee, courtesy of the interplay of his own Perks and Delicia’s supplements. He graciously gave everyone their morning load between running his hands over their wet bodies in the showers and other such activities.

Once they were at the breakfast table, such activity came to a natural and entirely temporary halt. The thoroughly decked furniture had them all quiet for a few minutes, too busy munching on the various nourishments on offer.

John decided to do small talk with someone he hardly saw around these days. “What are you doing today, Cappy?”

“Don’t call me that,” the solar jaguar grumpily responded. Two years and he still insisted he hated that nickname. “The same as I do every day. Tap around the Guild Hall and sleep in the sun,” he responded.

“We both know that’s not all you are doing,” the Gamer responded. Since their quarter fusion, Copernicus had become able to move quite far away from Jane. Not nearly as far as the Gamer’s elementals could, but quite far all the same. “Anyone specific you’ll help today?”

“Hmph!” The feline decided to keep it mysterious, instead continuing to lap at the plate of shredded tuna before him. A shift of his body warded his breakfast from a certain birdcat who always thought other people’s food tasted better.

John didn’t needle Copernicus further. Their relationship wasn’t that close. They were friends in the general sense. Still, most days John didn’t really think about the eclipse elemental. He was around and he was living his cat life, going from one day to the next with some involvement in Jane’s activities and helping random passersby and businesses around the Guild Hall.

Stirwin was similar, except John had his own mental connection to the infinity elemental. Still, since John wasn’t being too vain these days, the crocodile had little to weigh in on. His presence was a passive reminder that John appreciated.

Breakfast went along. Conversations started back up. John was considering what to do with his morning. The first day of the tournament had been busy, but the second and third were quite relaxed. Just four fights today and three tomorrow, with some more events in-between to pad things outs. Still, it would start later and end sooner.

The doorbell rang.

John furrowed his eyebrows. The Palace’s main entrance was constantly warded these days, the layers of military patrols and Sentinel Golems keeping everyone but a short list of approved individuals away. There were alternative means to get into contact with members of the Imperial Choir that were shared with certain offices, none of which involved ringing the doorbell before 8 AM.

John got up and moved to the entrance, equipping his suit as he went. A screen integrated into the wall connected to a camera Scarlett had installed by the main entrance. Through it, he saw a few semi-familiar faces.

There was one man and three women. Being who he was, John looked at the women first, though they were both taken and outside his age range. They were in the range of mid forties to fifties, though mana kept them quite limber.

One was a harpy with brown feathers, her face and proportions subtly resembling Nightingale’s, though the tanned skin her mother sported did a bit to obfuscate that fact. Second was the matriarch of that little harem, a buxom blonde as close to a shortstack as a human could be without having a medical condition. Third was a woman a half-step removed from the central trio, the collar around her neck and the big grin identifying her as the ‘servant’ of the group. Brown hair, moderate curves, average height, a visually simple woman – attractive, but not stunning.

In the middle stood the sole man. He was in his late fifties and incredibly buff for that age. He had a full head of blond hair that he had grown out and wore in a low ponytail. He had hard, green eyes that softened up whenever he looked at his women. Though he had the deep wrinkles of a man who frowned and laughed a lot, he was all the same good looking in his age. He carried himself in a way that implied status, despite the almost funny ‘Hawaiian’ shirts he and his women wore.

“Gale, your parents are at the door!” John shouted back.

“What?!” The harpy immediately came hurrying over, all her grace subdued by the subject. “They could have announced themselves!” she complained, then balanced on one foot to tap the speaker button with a singular talon. “I will be with you shortly, familial flock,” she promised.

“Told you they had a camera,” Elek said to his women. Elana, the harpy, chuckled while Calliope, white-blonde matriarch, rolled her eyes. Leona, the maid, stood there with a bright, patient smile.

Nightingale swiftly fashioned herself a dress made of threaded shadows. Leaving his other two bodies to explain the situation to the Imperial Choir, John followed his harpy to the entrance. He could at least greet his in-laws in person.

The Palace took them to the entrance posthaste, which meant they were in the throne room. John was suddenly feeling a bit self-aware about the fact that he had put a monument to his own importance right behind the main entrance. ‘It’s not bad when it's warranted!’ he told himself.

Nightingale and John gave each other a once over, making sure they were presentable. When the lady of the night nodded, John pressed the button that made the massive main gate swing inwards.

“Yolande!” Elana came sprinting in with all the grace of a worried mother. Immediately, she was hugging her daughter, a fact made a bit entertaining due to how similar and yet different they looked. Attaining the divinity of the night had shifted the colour coding of the younger woman notably. “Oh, you tease me!” she complained. “I had you when I was in my early twenties, you know, and here you are…!”

“Soon, mother,” Nightingale promised, an immortal goddess shrinking away at a parent’s expectant gaze.

“Good! It would be cruel to not let me see my demigod grandchild, wouldn’t it?”

The question made John’s smile falter. He struggled to maintain it. No one noticed the bad mask he was putting on. All of Nightingale’s family was focused on her initially. That gave John the time to wrestle with the pain. ‘It would be cruel to let them wait,’ he agreed. ‘Nothing is forever.’

By the time Elek turned towards him, John had overcome the rise of adversity. “Finally, we meet in person,” the old man said.

“Indeed,” John confirmed and put his hand up.

A handshake was beneath them. Palms met with a resounding clap. Fingers curled into a strong grip. Biceps curled as they pulled each other in. Deep laughter vibrated as they smacked each other on the back. John did it twice. Elek did it thrice, the last one more of a punch than a clap. “So, my little nightingale wasn’t good enough for your first wave?!” he growled.

John laughed. There were no obvious signs that the man was joking, but the Gamer had an instinctive connection to Elek. They were cut from the same cloth, decades and magnitudes of power apart and yet fundamentally similar. “I apologize, sir,” he disentangled from the hug, then bowed his head. “We had an internal discussion. Gale is in the second wave.”

“Good,” Elek nodded, the truth at the heart of the joke appeased. “How long between waves?”

“We haven’t decided that yet, though with Nightingale wanting to be knocked up before she hits 33… guess less than two years.” Tilting his head, she looked at the three women besieging Nightingale and his harpy’s best attempts to answer all the questions her mother and anolias (the harpy word for other women in their father’s harem) were throwing at her. “Perhaps you have some advice on that? How long did you wait between pregnancies?”

“About one or two months between one giving birth and another getting knocked up,” Elek answered readily. “Couple of times two of them were pregnant at the same time, but that was a youthful mistake. It also led to us hiring and then bringing Leona into the family, so that worked out for us.”

An amusing story to think about. “Well, I’m operating on a different scale…” he said slowly, trying not to brag. “We’re working with 6 pregnancies per wave. First one is 7, actually, because something happened.”

“I heard – the stalker?”

“Correct.”

“Brave man.” Elek shook his head. “But yeah, entirely different scale. Personal word of advice: the first ten years are the hardest. Once your oldest gets to that age, they become sort of able to raise their youngest siblings and that makes everything so much easier.”

John rubbed his chin. “I heard that before… we’ll see how much stock I can put into that… should we aim to avoid the terrible twos or…?”

“Honestly, when you have as many children as you’ll have, any attempt at trying to optimize things will fail,” Elek told him. “Yes, the terrible twos are bad but you will always have children around the house that will cause chaos or be mopey. Suspend with the idea that you can prevent it. Adorable, irrational creatures will be running around your house and testing every boundary there is.”

“Mhm… I will keep that in mind,” John said. “At least I got plenty of eyeballs on them.”

“How many are you up to now?”

“26,” John gave the official number, excluding both Fianna and Lu Zhi.

“Yeah, you should be good. Kids take a lot of energy, but if you can cycle and recharge, it’s not that bad.” Elek waited for a moment, then saw the gap in the topic that he had apparently been waiting for. “I am considering moving here.”

John raised an eyebrow. It was the second conversation they had and the first time they met in person. “I doubt it's because you like me so much you can’t stay away from your son-in-law,” the Gamer said. Apologetically he added, “One that isn’t exactly known for having the time for visits.”

“If this was about family, then I would stay in Europe… though I may try to convince the rest of the family to move as well.”

“What has you so worried, Father?” Nightingale asked. She had picked up enough of the conversation to get curious.

“Remus,” Elek put it to a single word. “You must know more about him, what kind of man is he?”

“…Someone who respects ability, perhaps only ability,” John answered. “I would say that he regards everything as a tool to complete his goals. I believe him to strive for the uplifting of humanity, which is noble. Unfortunately, I also think he’d be the kind of person who would achieve this goal by enslaving all the less able, if convinced it would be even a slight boon to his goal.”

A deep nod was all Elek had in reaction to that assessment. “Precisely. As much as I love Greece, I am not going to stay under a person like that. Prometheus hasn’t changed yet, but the dominos are in place. I have lived through enough history to know that things can change on a dime.”

“If you wish to move here, you will have my full support,” John promised. “It would put us at ease if we knew that Gale’s family is outside of kidnapping range.”

“I will make use of your favour. I’m too old to be stubborn about my son-in-law giving me things… especially when he is one of the wealthiest people on the planet.”

“You will be welcomed as part of my imperial house,” Nightingale chimed in. “Arrangements for their creation are still being made. All the same, my wealth and influence are yours to wield, Father.”

“Thank you,” Elek said. “I’ll try to move my businesses over as well. Maybe Fusion can use some small time pearl growers.”

“I do like a growing economy,” John joked. “Are you moving immediately?”

“No, he just wanted to lead with the ‘selfish’ request.“ Calliope grabbed her husband’s arm. “We are here to watch the tournament. We would have been here yesterday, but our flights got delayed.”

“Happy to host you now,” Nightingale said. “I shall show you your quarters.”

John continued to tag along, spending the morning chatting primarily with Elek. Getting to know his greater family was a bittersweet treat. He enjoyed it, but it also reminded him that, as far as his blood-related kin went, he was effectively alone. None of the uncles, aunts or cousins he had he was close with. He didn’t even know the names of most of them. None of them were Abyssals (he had checked). Trying to get into contact with them now was just a waste of everyone’s time.

Gale’s family would be around for a few more decades. Eventually, the connection between the descendants of her siblings and them would be so thin that it would just be trivia at their family gatherings and largely forgotten by the imperial houses. A grey thought to have, overshadowed by laughter they shared in the moment.

Nothing lasted forever. Few things even lasted for long.

It all meant plenty.