“…Very good decision,” John noted, when he walked into the preparation room. He was in the new SSSN outpost in the Bay Circle. Since he had last inspected the building, during the guys’ night out over two weeks ago, it had been partly completed. Importantly, there was studio space that was now usable, which was all John had needed to hear to make an appointment.

“What is?” his interviewer asked, looking up to him. She had to stretch her head quite abit into her neck to do so, given that she was almost half a metre smaller than him. Worlina’s nose was about the height of his solar plexus. A very cute, pointy nose, sitting in an equally cute but round face. Long, pointy ears stretched out to either side, their colour a bit redder than the rest of the goblin’s green skin.

Sexy glasses sat on her face, their red frame harmonizing with the colour of her lips and her crimson hair. It was currently bound back into a bun, except for some decorative, unequally parting strands that framed her face with a slight wave, covering more of the left side than the right. It combined with the cleave of her white blouse, the black pencil skirt and thigh-high stockings for a sexy teacher look.

A look that wouldn’t have worked quite as well were it not for the curves she was rocking underneath those clothes. Tits bordering on the double D, emphasized by the small frame they were on, and an ass that was made to jiggle, with thick legs making up the rest. Despite being that stacked, she wasn’t pudgy in any way, as shorter girls with curves like that tended to be. Her waist was narrow and her stomach flat. Presumably. John had no way to verify, thanks to the way her tits stretched the blouse, only letting it rest against her body at the belt of her skit.

John’s mind went through various methods he could gradually ruin that disciplined look. All of them debauched and grounded in an understanding that he would be able to do it later. ‘Hell, knowing that she is a hardcore masochist, she probably put up this look only for it to be ruined,’ the Gamer thought, only to answer the question, “You got a shower room attached to this.” He pointed over to an open door, through which he could see a number of showerheads mounted to the basic, white-tiled wall.

It was a very simple set-up, akin to the showers used for swimming halls, but exactly the right design decision for a set like this. After a porn shoot, there were usually at least two people in need of a shower. Making someone go home, like John had to do after the catgirl interview, covered in sweat and sexual fluids was absolutely horrible. Having one shower at the site was an improvement, although that still forced people to wait around in their filthy state. A shower room like that was exactly the right thing to take care of things after a porno shoot.

“Catgirl News didn’t have one,” Rave chimed in. This time, rather than barge in during the second half of the interview, she was coming in as part of the program. Like Worlina, her clothes were pretty conservative – by the standards of John’s harem, anyway. A baby blue top stuck closely to her curves, short sleeves decorated with bright green stitches. For her legs, she hid her smooth skin under white, blue-striped yoga pants.

There had been a bit of deliberation in the morning about how slutty she wanted to look for the camera from the start. Since a big reason for coming along, aside from touching butts with a stacked goblin, was to cater to her exhibitionism, that hadn’t been an easy decision. Ultimately, she decided to play it ‘safe’ and not to take the Metra approach.

“Gross negligence,” Worlina declared, stemming her hands into her wide hips. “Leave it to the CPDI to not know the fundamentals!” In a much sweeter tone of her high-pitched voice, she added, “Coffee, tea, anything you want?” She gestured at the rest of the preparation room’s furniture. There were three basic segments, a lounge corner to wait in, a small kitchen supplying fundamentals and a wall of mirrors and chairs for styling.

John requested water, Rave a beer, and Worlina fetched both from the fridge for them. “What if we run out during the livestream?” the Gamer wondered, while the two of them sat down in the lounging corner. “Do we just ask for new drinks?”

“Yeah, no sweat,” the goblin answered and swaggered over to the mirrors. Out of a bag she had placed over there earlier, she retrieved a lipstick and gently repainted the red of her lips. John had guessed that it was make-up. Not everyone could be as blessed with such utterly gorgeous looks as his harem was. A bit of artificial help was fine, as long as there was still more skin visible than paint.

John and Rave spent a little bit of time chatting while Worlina checked on the rest of her make-up and style. The chair she sat in for this was, unsurprisingly, low enough that she could get in without a problem. After she had gone over everything, she put a black earpiece in, something to stay connected with the technical crew, no doubt, grabbed an electronic pad and turned back to her guests.

“Alright, the actual interview room has microphones and cameras at multiple angles throughout the room, so you two won’t be required to wear any equipment,” the goblin gave them the final breakdown and winked, “it would get lost anyway.”

That was the same set-up as John had experienced during the CPDI interview, so that didn’t surprise him. “Sounds good,” he said and stood up since things were evidently moving towards starting now. There were still ten minutes to the agreed hour, but there was probably some preparation to be made inside.

Through a door that was 90% glass and 10% sound-proof-sealing frame, they entered the interview room. It clearly belonged to a porn news station. Shelves with cubic segments displayed a number of sex toys, predominantly (but not exclusively) cuffs, gags and dildos, along the far-off wall of the equally cubic room. While the light coming from the ceiling was white, the red carpet and walls reflected it back with a crimson touch. Some other pieces of equipment stood around in a decorative fashion. They were all made from metal and black leather, with lots of hooks and very oddly placed cushions attached to them. BDSM equipment, basic and advanced, presented like normal furniture.

Some kind of chest in the corner had an image of whips and chains printed on its red surface. ‘I’ll just take a wild guess and say that that’s where the rest of the stuff is,’ John thought. He could get almost everything he needed for a good session out of the shelf – except for the ropes needed to actually do the B part of BDSM. ‘Long leather strips don’t make for good display pieces, I suppose.’

Air ventilation softly brushed over John’s clothes, the usual combination of the elegant Schattengarn shirt and pants, black with minor red elements. Glancing at the ceiling, he found a large number of bottle lid sized holes probably responsible for that. If he really concentrated on it with his superhuman hearing, he could pick up the vibrations of whatever magic was responsible for this process. It was highly doubtful that the microphones installed into the walls would be able to record any of that.

They made their way to the middle of the room, where three chairs stood around a low table. Said table was unremarkable, a glass plate on a silver metal frame, but the chairs were rather interesting. Their wooden frames were adjustable in a large number of ways. Aside from the basic angle of the back, there were also ways to change the height of the back, the height of the chair itself and the width of the seat. The last bit was achieved by having the curved armrests open outwards, making the attached, red, leather-wrapped cushion roll out. Without magical means, that would have caused some annoying protrusions in the middle of the seat.

There were a bunch of seemingly unnecessary bits as well. Wooden bars that were attached to the frame without purpose, until closely inspected. They were movable and had either holes in themselves or metal eyelets attached, that could be necessary for the planned activities beyond talking.

John took a moment to search for a brand or something, didn’t find anything, then sat down. The cushions were fantastically firm, while giving in enough to be soft. It was likely some sort of memory foam, which made it perfect for prolonged sitting or, as a random example, be forced to lay on with arms bound to the back and legs to the armrests and a vibrator attached to the clit.

He spent the remaining time fidgeting with the chair to adjust it to be perfectly comfortable. Particularly in general height, that was necessary, since those chairs were pre-set for the general staff. Unlike the CPDI, where the catgirls fulfilled most of the reporting and very few of the technical roles, the SSSN employed goblins, male and female, in all positions. They still had humans helping out though. Rumour had it that things often became quite busy in the studios, beyond the actual recording set.

Based rumours, John was very certain.

The electronic display above the door sprung to life, starting the countdown to the show’s start. Worlina made sure she had her pad set up correctly. John and Rave checked that their drinks were in reach. Then things were ready and Worlina turned to the side, addressing whatever camera was focused on her for the opening segment.

“Hello, dear viewers,” she greeted in a pleasingly calm and sultry tone of her high-pitched voice. “Welcome to the first episode of the SSSN’s own porncast. Today’s host is me, Worlina Smickl.” She adjusted her glasses in a deliberately sexy fashion. “You, our dear subscribers, have voted on the questions we will ask today’s guest and, once we have finished that segment, I hope you will find much enjoyment in what will come afterwards. Now, without further ado, let me introduce today’s guests.” There was a bit of a preamble, listing titles and some accomplishments of the two, then she turned to John and Rave. The Gamer could practically feel the frame zooming out to include them. “John Newman, Rave Hollmey, welcome to the program.”

“Thanks,” Rave enthusiastically replied, not minding her actual name being skipped like that.

“It’s going to be a pleasure,” John asserted, folding his hands and leaning back in a comfortable fashion. “Do you have a name for the program already?”

“Just a few test names. We hurried to put something together after your first appearance on one suddenly popularized the genre,” Worlina responded swiftly.

“How about Stackedcast?” he suggested with a joking smile on his lips. Next to him, Rave snorted with surprise laughter, only spurning her boyfriend on to continue. “Tagline could be ‘We may be short, but the format sure isn’t!’”

“John, that’s terrible!” Rave exclaimed, punching him on the shoulder while still laughing.

“We’ll take it under suggestions,” Worlina promised, also chuckling, just less pronounced. “How do you like our set, by the way?”

“A bit overtly sexual,” John admitted. “Puts my mind all towards the second half of the show, which you can take one way or another, but I do respect you and the CPDI for actually doing some proper journalism along with the porn.”

“Bit of a basic bitch suggestion,” Rave chimed in, “but maybe add some potted plants or something.”

“We’ll also take note of that,” their green-skinned host promised.

“Have to say though that the chairs are fantastic,” the Gamer moved into praise, now that he had delivered some critiques. He didn’t want the viewers or the broadcasters to get the impression he was dissatisfied. “Where did you get them from?”

“They’re made by Tentem Zibblebruks, one of the most famous craftsmen of the Gobbo Nation,” Worlina answered proudly. “I can give you the contact info after the show, if you want.”

“I’d be very thankful if you could, seems like the kind of equipment I could really use in my own playroom.” He took a short pause and gave Worlina a sexually charged stare. “You wouldn’t mind if I tested these things a bit later, with the equipment your employer so graciously kept as part of the set?” Through eyes and mannerisms, he made it abundantly clear that he regarded her to be part of said equipment.

Shivering, Worlina raised one leg and slowly crossed it over the other, flashing her red silk panties for more than a second. “Of course, Ma- Mister Newman,” she cleared her throat, clearly trying to stay focused on the interview. It had barely begun and there were a lot of things to talk about before the fun parts. “Speaking of the… equipment, before the interview started, you remarked that our outfitting is better than the CPDI, could you elaborate on that?”

“Only to make sure their set is better when I get there next time,” John clarified. “But yes, showers in the prep room are a must-have, thought that would be a common understanding. Aside from that, wipeable seats just makes everything more pleasant for the people that have to clean afterwards. Which, given that you have cleared those two conditions, makes me wonder why you put down a carpet for the floor.” The heel of his sock, they had left the shoes outside, dragged over the soft layer of fuzz.

There was a moment of silence, Worlina reaching to the button in her ear to signal she was getting a message from the staff. “It’s a special fibre, I have been assured, very easy to clean.”

“If ya can, we would take the contact info for that as well.” Rave looked to John. “I’d say Aclysia would appreciate that a whole lot, for future houses.”

“Carpets have been a bit of a problem… yeah, that’d be good,” he agreed. “Anyway, sorry for hijacking your program, I think I was here to answer questions, or something like that?”

“The format is made for tangents,” Worlina assured him with a smile on her red lips. Regardless, the shortstack looked down to her pad. “First question, so the question most people voted on, is… tits or ass?”

“…Is… is there still debate about that?” John was too flabbergasted to answer immediately.

“Would bet this is a case of ‘Joke answer won’,” his girlfriend guessed, then partly stood up to turn around in her seat. One leg straight, the other resting with the knee on the seating, she held onto the armrests and pushed out her round ass. “To answer the question though,” she just said and winked at Worlina as a substitute for the camera.

John stretched toward his girlfriend and gave the presented butt a nice, echoing smack. “That answer has my firm support,” he said, unable to lift his hand without giving the bubble butt a few more squeezes. How something was allowed to be this jiggly and firm at the same time was beyond him. How were men supposed to concentrate on anything aside from sex with women like her around?

After letting him get his fix, the Lightbearer pulled away and sat back down. Much to the disappointment of Worlina, who was changing which leg was up and which was down. There seemed to be a tiny dark line in her panties at this point. “Alright, second question,” Worlina moved on smoothly. “Big question, this time. How is Fusion’s internal focus going at the moment?”

“Oh yeah, that is a big question,” John said and ordered his thoughts to give a coherent presentation. “Well, the elections are being organized nicely. Most local ones are through at this point, but for the state levels, organizing proper procedures and making them fraud safe is taking a little bit. I find the parties that have formed interesting. The economy-“

“If you don’t mind, could you give us an overview of those parties?” Worlina interjected. “You would have the most accurate picture of things.”

“Oh, sure.” John scratched his forehead. “Well, it’s hard to put names to things, since many local parties are in the process of merging to be competitive at a state or national level. Until that’s done, I can’t really say who is what, but I can give you a breakdown of the factions, as I have seen and been informed about them, if that’s enough?”

“Please proceed,” Worlina confirmed.

“Okay, so, the biggest group we have is the independently minded. Those consist of Abyssals that want to be left to their own devices in basically all aspects and seem to be mostly content with the limited capacity Fusion has to intervene in local matters. Some of them would rather that the laws of Fusion don’t exist whatsoever, allowing them to get back to the dog eats dog world of before, but those are, like, the extremists of that group.

“Then we have, and this surprised me as a mundane born person, the Supernatural People Party, which is just about the only thing that’s joined up fairly quickly. They are currently unified in wishing Fusion expands in programs to allow fantastical races, such as you,” he gestured at the shortstack host, “easy access to mundane disguises and for areas to be created around the country that match their preferred habitat.

“In third place there are, what I call, the conservatives. Conservatives by my mundane measure, anyway. Those want society to have a tighter and more defined social fabric, be it by culture or by law. I’m all in favour of those that want the culture of the Abyss to become more solid, I think the anarchy that reigns in many parts of the USA serves very few people. For the laws… well, they might have a point sometimes, but I am generally not a friend of government intervention.”

“Don’t you trust yourself to do the best thing?” Worlina asked.

“Well, I trust myself to do something well-intentioned,” John responded. “I happen to think that, if I personally went through ordering every single government response, those would all be pretty to very successful. The problem is, I can’t. That then leaves laws to be written and interpreted by judges, officials and bureaucrats, which dilutes the solution down to becoming a problem onto itself. I would therefore like to reserve such a blunt tool until strictly necessary.”

“My tiger has both trust and pride issues,” Rave joked from the sidelines, taking a sip of her beer.

Following suit, John grabbed his bottle of water. “In this case, my issues are creating a liberal state, so good news for everyone, right?”

“Would you like to continue with the parties?” Worlina asked.

“Sure, sure,” John nodded, after having a quick refresher and putting the bottle back down. “Not much more to say, honestly. Among the remainders, I could only discern the loyalists, people that think Fusion is great and support it entirely.”

“Also known,” Rave chimed in, once more in a jesting tone, “as the ‘John can’t do wrong’-party.”

Sighing, John could only nod. “There are several among those loyalists that have come to put me in the position of some infallible ideal. I’ve, of course, failed plenty in my time, even though my overall trajectory is upwards.” He shrugged. “I suppose they see me as ‘their Romulus’, which isn’t completely wrong, but I don’t really know what to do with a crowd of yes-men.”

“Afraid that they’ll make you careless?” the host asked.

“Everyone with any level of power should be.” He nodded intensely. “I’m a prideful guy, which I’m thankfully aware off, so I can take precautions to humble myself. Thing is, most leaders are prideful, even if they hide it well from everyone, including themselves. It’s very easy to get an ego-feeding loop going, once everyone underneath starts suspecting their promotion chances rise when they say nice things and only present progress. Under those circumstances, everyone gets invested in not rocking the boat and risk their own position, so the leader is told he is doing great and everything is going great, while they crush the lives of everyone else under the boot of force, without care or notice. Yes-men are the road to corruption.”

“While on the subject of parties, is there any reason why they don’t find any place in your political framework?” Worlina asked. Since she wasn’t looking at the pad, this was likely a question of her own wonder. “They have to form up as essentially private companies.”

“Because I don’t know if the party system will last forever, and if you marry yourself to the spirit of the age, you find yourself a widower in the next,” John responded, having thought about this quite a bit. “More than that, I am certain that those parties currently forming will not last forever. Enshrining them in government structures will make it harder for them to fall apart when they really should, just like it will make it harder for new parties to form. I’d much rather have parties be a de-facto network of like minded people than a de-jure faction in government.”

“I see, I see.” Worlina nodded along. “You certainly thought about this a lot.”

“Someone has to.” He smiled and leaned back. “For the rest of Fusion’s internal affairs, they are looking pretty rosy. Everyone who wants work can find work, since we have so much room to expand into. We are training Fateweavers at an accelerating rate, although it will take at least another year before we have properly learned ones ‘made in Fusion’, so to say. Recovery from the war with the Lake Alliance is going swiftly as well, particularly in the ship building department.”

“There was a crime scandal recently though, wasn’t there?” Worlina asked. “This is also a topic the subscribers voted for, so it fits we go there next. The incident where you, personally, raided a slaver hideout and found officials affiliated with their operations.”

“The only reason why it was so extensively reported on was my personal involvement, so I wouldn’t call it a scandal.” John folded his hands in front of his chest. “We should have found out sooner; I’m not making excuses for that. As it is, we have found the officials responsible and appropriate punishment was given out. I would personally take this as another warning that the government shouldn’t get too big, otherwise corruption like this gets easier and easier to hide.”

“Okay, next topic…” Worlina said and looked at her pad, “…this goes specifically more to you, Rave, the question is what positions the girls of John’s harem prefer. I would assume you would know more about that.”

“Well, no, I don’t know more about that, I know about the same,” Rave dispelled that myth quickly. “John here keeps on the lookout for what we like, so he’ll know what positions we prefer and make sure we get into them often enough. But, ya know, I can answer the question, since I’m already talking.” She winked at John, who made an overly magnanimous gesture, as if he was handing the stage to her. “I personally love reverse cowgirl the most, I like having a good amount of control. After that, if he’s on top, probably doggy. Just love it when he slams against me, ya know?”

That this topic came directly after an expansive discussion about government seemed like a microcosm of John’s life, he realized. Rave continued on regardless.

“Aclysia, prefers the same positions, for different reasons. Mostly because she wants to show her butt off to John, while serving him. Nathalia was always partial to the traditional cowgirl. Eliza… uh… I don’t know if ‘restrained’ counts as a sex position… point is, she doesn’t care much for what position she is in as long as she can’t get out of it. Gnome likes missionary, she is innocent like that. Salamander also prefers lying on her back, cause she wants to show off her tits. I don’t think you can really name the positions Undine prefers, given that she is liquid and takes multiple at the same time, when she can. Sylph definitely loves getting fucked while John is standing and holds her. Lydia likes doggy the most, cause… reasons…”

Rave skipped out on a detailed explanation. The queen’s love for anal wasn’t exactly public and they would probably get an earful already for just mentioning her. After a little beer-sipping pause, Rave continued.

“Nia… I actually don’t know…” She scratched her head. “I guess it would be missionary, by the amount of times I have seen her get in that position. Siena is standing doggy, she really likes having John put the extra work in. Metra is another cowgirl-girl. Scarlett… I wanna say restrained again?” Rave looked to her boyfriend for help.

“You know that thing where I push your legs up until your knees are next to your head?” John asked a rhetorical question. “That. Eliza loves it too, by the way.”

“‘Course she does, it’s basically being bound,” Rave answered. “Well, last on the list is Beatrice, who just likes it however. Girl has no preferences and it’s weird.”

“That’s just Bae.”

“No, I’m Bae!”

“No, you’re my girlfriend, she is Bae,” John couldn’t help but say that in the cheekiest tone possible. “It’s common sense.”