Buzz— Buzz—
Valentina didn't hear a word Chuck said. Her ears were filled with a high-pitched ringing, like a pair of broken headphones. Her vision was a chaotic static of colored dots, and she had completely lost control of her motor functions.
Her pale, athletic body—built like a female leopard—was pinned against the cave wall by Chuck's single hand around her throat, her feet dangling powerlessly in the air. Once again, she had been turned into a human-sized "teru teru bozu" doll.
Looking at her total defeat, Chuck raised an eyebrow and finally released her neck. With a heavy thud, Valentina slumped to the floor, the bronze chains binding her limbs clattering against the stone.
Chuck looked down at the four chains he had meticulously crafted. A realization struck him, and his lips slowly curved into a wicked smirk. He turned back toward the women.
"Shizuka, Janet—come give me a hand."
Lately, Valentina's head had been through hell. First, she'd slammed her face into the floor of the cabin; the next day, she took a headbutt from Chuck; and now, she had been slammed into a stone wall. If she weren't a hardened soldier with a higher pain tolerance than most, she would have certainly suffered a severe concussion.
This time, she stayed unconscious for quite a while.
When her pale lashes finally flickered and her emerald eyes refocused, Valentina instinctively looked around. Her body froze instantly. The scene before her had changed... literally.
She found herself suspended in mid-air, face-down and parallel to the ground. Her wrists and ankles felt that familiar, heavy constriction. Looking down, she realized her fiber-cloth outfit was gone. Her firm, snowy breasts hung downward, their rosy, cherry-like tips exposed to the cool cave air.
The chill caused goosebumps to erupt across her pale skin. Her nipples hardened, her toes curled in agitation, and her smooth, hairless "pink bud" between her legs twitched and contracted involuntarily. As her mind cleared, the memory of her defeat rushed back.
A flash of bewilderment crossed her face. Was it still not enough? Why do I keep losing to him? Is it possible... I really can't win? For the first time in her life, the proud warrior felt the soul-crushing weight of "unbeatable" despair.
Suddenly, a sensation that made her skin crawl emerged from behind her.
Valentina shuddered, struggling to crane her neck back. But even at her limit, she could only see the massive bed in front of her, where six stunning women were sitting or lying. Their expressions varied—some shy, some expectant, others filled with envy or excitement—but they were all staring at her. They were waiting to witness something.
Remembering Chuck's two keywords from before—"Thirty Minutes" and "FUCK"—a chilling realization struck her heart.
She was about to be taken.
She gasped, her suspended body thrashing with all its might, creating a cacophony of metal clanking. Her voice rose in a frantic, desperate scream.
"FUCK! FUCK YOU!"
She knew that shameless, powerful man was standing right behind her. And she was right.
The four bronze chains holding her limbs extended upward, anchored to the ceiling of the cave. Her muscular, leopard-like body was splayed out in a humiliating "X" shape in mid-air, face-down like a sow ready for slaughter. Her rounded, firm buttocks were squeezed by her powerful thigh muscles into exaggerated peaks. The muscles of her tight back rippled under the strain. Beneath her wide, snowy shoulders, her smooth, hairless armpits were exposed and vulnerable.
Chuck stood behind her, his breathing growing heavy as he looked at the athletic female form before him. The impulses and possessiveness he had suppressed for days were finally unleashed. He looked down at the towering dragon between his legs, which was already steaming with heat.
Ignoring Valentina's struggles, Chuck stepped forward until his dragon brushed against her firm, squeezed buttcheeks. His hips pressed against the smooth, pale skin of her inner thighs. He reached out, his fingertip tracing the pink flower-bud, then brought it to his nose.
A herbal scent, mixed with the sweet, musky aroma of a female, filled his nostrils. Chuck nodded with satisfaction. The potion had worked perfectly.
He spat into his palm and rubbed the lubrication over the head of his dragon. This was the first time since establishing his island harem that Chuck had felt the need for such a deliberate preparation.
On the bed, the women watched with racing hearts and flushed faces. They knew exactly what was coming. None of them had ever been used by Chuck in this specific way.
Feeling the searing heat against her cleft, Valentina thrashed even harder, her screams becoming hysterical. As Chuck expected, this woman had no sense of honor; she had no intention of accepting the terms of her defeat. Two days ago, he might have tried to negotiate, but his patience had run out.
"How was breakfast this morning?"
Hearing the voice from behind, Valentina's pupils dilated. A terrifying premonition gripped her. Her pale neck twisted violently to the right, but she was like a moth caught in a spiderweb, swinging helplessly in the air.
"What do you mean?!"
"After breakfast, your stomach must have felt a bit... active. You probably thought it was just a simple case of diarrhea when everything cleared out so smoothly afterward."
Chuck stepped back slightly, guiding his weapon by hand until he found the tender, tight entrance. The scalding dragon-head pressed firmly against it.
"Wait... what are you doing?!"
Combining the sensation behind her with Chuck's words and her morning "cleansing," Valentina finally realized his intent. Cold sweat broke out on her forehead and underarms. For the first time, her stoic, warrior face was replaced by the sheer, wide-eyed panic of a helpless girl.
"No! Wrong! Not there!!"
Valentina screamed, her voice losing its strength and becoming high-pitched and helpless. The thick, burning pillar wasn't touching her womanly cave; it had shifted a few centimeters, resting like a ruthless bayonet against her "third mouth." She twisted her muscular rear, her back muscles tensing as she tried to flee, but it was futile.
Chuck felt an indescribable surge of pleasure as he prepared to impale the silver-haired warrior. He truly loved the act of conquest.
"STOP! STOP!!!"
Chuck gripped Valentina's firm yet slender waist. As her scream reached a crescendo, he thrust his hips forward with a heavy grunt.
Squish.
Invasion.
The four chains shuddered violently. Valentina's body arched back into a tight coil, her limbs twitching as if struck by lightning. Her eyes bulged as if she were staring at a demon from the abyss. Her mouth hung open, but no sound came out. On her tensed, scarred abdominal muscles, a clear, hard protrusion rippled from within.
What kind of punishment brings the most pain and humiliation?
[Disposable Potion (Senna) x10]: Strongly stimulates intestinal peristalsis and increases lubrication. Completely empties the lower tract within one hour and maintains cleanliness for six hours, while slightly increasing elasticity.
This was the potion Chuck had refined using Senna herbs, aloe, and bear fat. His "observations" this morning confirmed the first half of the description was no exaggeration. Now, he was testing the second half.
"Ahhh-HAAAA-AAAA-AAAA!!!"
With another heavy lunge, the dragon shattered the pink bud, flattening every internal fold and stretching the narrow passage to its limit. It shoved inward, ruthless and unobstructed, burying itself to the hilt.
The silver-haired warrior finally let out a piercing, agonizing shriek. The unprecedented warmth and the instinctual, spasming contractions were transmitted directly to Chuck, making his scalp tingle with pleasure. He threw his head back and let out a long, satisfied groan.
Valentina's screams were deafening. Her emerald eyes were wide with a mix of terror and shock. Her red-toed feet curled to their breaking point, and her snowy butt-cheeks spasmed until—with a wet splash—a large spray of golden fluid hit the cave floor.
I'm going to die. I'm going to die. I'm going to die.
The indescribable pain, mixed with the sensation of being stretched and the internal pressure against her belly, gave Valentina the illusion that she was being physically impaled through her organs. The fear of death washed over her like a tsunami.
"NO! OH-HOH-HOH-AAAAA!!!"
Even as a soldier who had bled on battlefields, she was now howling like a helpless sow. But the only response she received was Chuck's relentless, pile-driving rhythm.
The tightest "flower" Chuck had ever encountered felt similar to the entrance of a woman's womb, but the internal texture was more uniform and incredibly soft. The potion had done its job—providing cleanliness, elasticity, and lubrication so that even with Chuck's brutal movements, there were no tearing injuries.
However, the pain inflicted on Valentina didn't decrease by a single fraction.
Chuck reached out and grabbed a handful of her short silver hair, pulling her head back toward him to use as a literal rein. He began to hammer into her without restraint.
SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP...
This was Chuck's first time taking a woman's "rear door," and the high was overwhelming. He was fully immersed in the rhythm, his powerful glutes and thighs slamming against the leopard-woman's frame, sending waves of flesh rippling through her suspended body. Every time the dragon entered, it dragged the surrounding skin with it, pushing her six-pack abs outward from the inside. When it withdrew, it pulled out a glimpse of deep pink.
Valentina's screams grew more hoarse and desperate. Her pupils were shattered, tears streamed from the corners of her eyes, and her facial muscles twitched in agony. Even when she had been hit by shrapnel on the battlefield, she had never made sounds like this. Her pride and her competitive spirit were being ground into dust.
Finally, as she shrieked, she lowered her proud Slavic head for the first time to the man galloping behind her.
"I was wrong! I was wrong! Stop moving! I'm going to die! AHHHHH!!"
Unfortunately for her, Chuck was unmoved. The pleasure of finally conquering the silver-haired Russian and the novelty of this "third mouth" turned him into a heartless machine. He treated the Slavic warrior suspended in chains as nothing more than a living sleeve, slamming into her with heavy, soul-crushing force.
On the bed, the watching women were speechless, their faces burning. Yitong Gu, the masochistic mother, was breathing heavily, her hand instinctively sliding between her own legs. She watched the violent scene with such intensity that her own juices were flowing, wishing she could be the one suspended in air, being ruthlessly impaled by Chuck.
Even Janet, the mature Western Mare who usually remained stoic while watching Chuck with her niece, felt a dark flush creep across her cheeks. She had seen "alpha" men before—bodybuilders on steroids and genetically gifted athletes— none possessed the raw, primal masculinity of Chuck. He could use a woman like an object, yet risk his life for her. He was the Male among males.
Janet's heart beat faster and faster. Would I be conquered like that one day? What... what would it feel like?