Thirty seconds later.
THUD.
A heavy muffled impact echoed within the man-made cave, accompanied by the frantic clinking of metal chains. Chuck had caught both of Valentina's hands, pulling her forward into a brutal, calculated headbutt. The Russian woman's vision swam with stars; her knees buckled, and she collapsed into a kneeling position on the floor.
Chuck rubbed his forehead. There wasn't even a bruise, just a faint red mark on his skin. He looked down at the silver-haired warrior and spoke calmly.
"I win."
Unlike Chuck, who remained unscathed, a second large lump was slowly rising on Valentina's pale forehead—one in the front and one in the back, a matched set of misery. She stayed prone for a long time, gasping for air, before the reality of her defeat set in. She slammed a fist into the ground in frustration.
"Чёртов зимни! (Damn it!)"
After a day of accumulated humiliation, she had lost her cool the moment the fight began. She had lunged in with pure aggression, and while she landed a few solid punches, Chuck had quickly neutralized her reach and controlled her hands. Then, it was over. She knew he was a physical freak of nature, yet she had chosen to trade blows directly. She should have fought a war of attrition like before.
If she could just try one more time... she was sure she could win!
Valentina bit her lip and glared up at him. "Again!"
"No." Chuck smirked, shaking his head. "One day, one chance. You lost today." He pointed toward the fur rug behind her. "Five minutes. Lie down."
"NO!" Valentina roared, her green eyes flashing with defiance.
Chuck didn't get angry at her attempt to back out. He simply took a half-step back. "Keep the deal, and tomorrow you get another shot. Otherwise, the game ends forever."
His tone was indifferent, as if he were discussing the weather. To him, it truly was a minor matter. Hearing this, Valentina's face twisted in a struggle.
"How do I know... you'll keep the deal if I win?!"
Chuck shrugged. "You don't have a choice. Who told you to lose to me yesterday?"
"FUCK YOU!"
Valentina was reaching her breaking point. Her fists were clenched so tight her nails drew blood from her palms. She was disgusted with her performance and believed she could flatten him in a rematch. But this cunning man had set a trap she couldn't ignore. After a long silence, she finally stood up, turned to the rug, and lay down as stiff as a board.
"Five minutes!"
Chuck's lips curled into a satisfied smile. The first step was taken. Once the seal was broken, the rest would follow. He pulled out his smartphone, set a five-minute timer, and held the screen in front of her face before pressing start.
Valentina's pupils shrank. This man has a phone?!
Before she could ask, Chuck set the phone on a nearby bed and knelt between her legs. Valentina's face flooded with renewed loathing. But for the sake of tomorrow's rematch, she had to endure.
It was just five minutes. She had been shot, stabbed, and caught in artillery blasts. She had survived countless desperate situations. She told herself this was no different. It was just a man's organ poking into her. It was a useless part of her body anyway—one that bled every month—what did it matter if he used it?
She closed her eyes, shutting out the world.
Chuck narrowed his eyes. He had been "stingy" with the time on purpose. Statistics said five minutes was the average for most men, though his own sessions usually lasted over half an hour. Five minutes wasn't enough for a full fuck, but it was enough for a proper "awakening."
Based on his vast experience with the other women, he could tell Valentina was a complete novice. War-zone stress usually led soldiers to either total debauchery or a complete lack of interest in sex. Valentina was clearly the latter.
Chuck didn't waste time stripping her. He slid his hand into the waistband of her fiber shorts. Instantly, he felt her skin break out in goosebumps. Her jaw was locked tight; she was in a state of extreme psychological resistance.
As his hand moved down, the skin he touched was unexpectedly smooth and delicate. There was no hair to block his path. Finally, his fingers found the soft, sensitive bud.
The moment he touched it, Valentina's entire body jolted. Her lips pressed into a thin line, and her face flushed as she fought the strange, intense sensation.
A sensitive constitution? Chuck was surprised. This was going to be easier than he thought.
With his enhanced learning ability and nightly "training sessions," Chuck's hand technique was top-tier. He moved from gentle teasing to firm pressure, then to a rapid, swirling friction. The muscular female body beneath him began to tremble more violently as wave after wave of stimulation hit her.
Her snow-white abs, scarred and bruised, tightened and became slick with sweat. Her powerful thighs instinctively tried to clamp shut, but Chuck's fingers were relentless, developing her virgin body from zero to peak.
The timer ticked down. Valentina's expression shifted from cold defiance to labored breathing and a deep, burning flush.
"Beep-beep-beep..."
As the timer hit zero, Chuck's fingers suddenly clamped onto the swollen, rigid bud and gave it a sharp, firm pinch!
Valentina's eyes snapped open, her green pupils vibrating. Her white feet inside her black socks curled with force. Her athletic legs arched her hips off the ground in a dramatic, spasming human bridge. She hung there, convulsing in the air, her body finally surrendering to the biological reflex of a massive orgasm.
Chuck withdrew his hand, pulled a clean cloth from his pocket, and wiped the glistening, viscous fluid from his fingers. Half a minute later, her hips finally slumped back to the rug.
Valentina panted heavily, looking at him with a defiant snarl. "I felt... absolutely nothing... Suka."
Chuck just smiled, not bothering to call her bluff. "See you tomorrow." He turned and walked out of the cave without looking back.
He knew she was a "stubborn-mouthed" girl with a body that didn't lie. There was still a long road to her total submission, but her female instincts were now awake.
As the sun rose, the rest of his harem began to wake up. Chuck met with Julia to discuss the botanical samples. She was ecstatic about the mulberry trees and wild silkworms—their ticket to real clothes.
But Chuck had a concern: the weather. The tropical storms and hurricanes were brutal. The mulberry trees and silkworms wouldn't survive a repeat of the recent hurricane. He had two choices: plant them in the deep jungle (a 40-minute round trip) or build a protected farm on the plateau.
He chose the plateau. He needed a greenhouse—not for heat, but for wind and moisture protection. With his bronze-casting skills, he could create a frame.
Just as he was preparing the furnace, a warm hand patted his shoulder.
"Chuck, got a minute?"
He turned to see Janet. Her red hair was tied back in a sporty ponytail, and her tank top struggled to contain her massive "mountains." The mature woman stood with one hand on her hip, a playful glint in her sapphire eyes.
"What's up, Janet?"
"I have a favor to ask. I don't know if it's too much trouble, but..." She leaned forward, the scent of a mature woman wafting toward him. Her voice turned slightly husky as she gave him a sultry smile. "Are you still interested in that kind of 'reward' from last time?"