The intense heat of the afternoon arrived suddenly and left just as quickly. As the sun began its westward descent, the temperature dropped back to a bearable range.
Inside the cave, the piercing screams had gradually weakened until they vanished entirely, replaced by the rhythmic sound of wet impacts and a strange, pathetic noise—something akin to a pig's squeal.
"Ngh-guk... ngh-guk... oh-hiss-hee-eee—"
Foamy white froth accumulated around the bright red, swollen flower. Valentina's pale, powerful body was drenched in sweat, shimmering like oil. Thick streaks of tears and snot messed up her stoic face, and her silver hair was plastered against her forehead. Her emerald pupils were dilated and unfocused, her tongue lolling out of her mouth. Every time Chuck thrust forward, her abdominal muscles would bulge, and a pig-like grunt would escape her throat.
Beneath her suspended body, a pool of fluids had collected on the floor. Her strong thighs spasmed, and though she was long past the point of being able to spray, her still-virgin frontal petals twitched rapidly, occasionally dripping a clear mixture of sweat and arousal.
Chuck stood in the center of the puddle, still pile-driving with relentless speed. The internal red walls of the silver-haired Russian were churning much more violently than at the start, almost prolapsing outward. Her "rear flower" had been completely reshaped by Chuck's girth, remaining wide and swollen.
After hours of pounding, Chuck finally reached his limit. He grabbed a handful of Valentina's messy silver hair with one hand and squeezed her sweat-slicked, muscular buttock with the other. He took a deep breath, and with a heavy clap of skin on skin, he drove himself home one last time.
"Gwahhh!!!"
As her stomach was pushed to its highest point by the internal intrusion, Valentina's eyes rolled back into her head. Her mouth hung wide in a dry heave, though the morning's potion had left her with nothing to throw up. Clear, thick fluids leaked from her nose and mouth simultaneously. Her sweat-covered, cramped body suddenly went limp. Still pinned by the hair and impaled through the rear, she hung there with her limbs curled upward like a dead insect, completely unconscious.
Chuck let out a low grunt, a lightning-like surge of pleasure racing from his spine to his brain as he released everything deep within that incredibly narrow passage. He exhaled a long, heavy breath, finally letting go of her silver hair and backing away.
Squish.
The steaming dragon withdrew from Valentina's rear door, dragging out a section of loose red lining and a massive amount of thick white foam. Her "rear bud," once as tight as a maiden's, remained gaped and slightly prolapsed, glowing a fiery red. The pink internal walls were clearly visible, twitching occasionally and emitting soft, wet popping sounds as bubbles formed and popped, trailing down her inner thighs.
Chuck looked up and grabbed the four chains, pulling the bronze anchors from the ceiling one by one.
Clang.
With the sound of falling chains, Valentina's drenched body hit the cold ground with a dull thud. She lay there like a pile of mud, her limbs twitching every few seconds. Looking at the unconscious Slavic warrior, Chuck couldn't help but remember their first encounter during the bear fight. Back then, she had appeared from the trees like a goddess of war, her silver hair and cold, commanding presence making her a force to be reckoned with.
But now...
Pfft-pfft-pfft—
As she lay slumped, the pressure of the floor against her slightly bloated belly caused her loose, gaping rear to leak more thick foam, making a series of embarrassing sounds. Her white toes curled involuntarily, and her "broken" sow-like face was squashed against the dirt.
She had truly become a pile of meat. Chuck always kept his promises to women; such was his "way."
After cleaning up the aftermath, Chuck applied some Wolf Blood Potion (usually used for external wounds) to Valentina's swollen rear and gently tucked the loose lining back inside. He threw her clothes over her body and left the cave with the other women, who all looked somewhat dazed.
Having witnessed the scene, both the Gu mother-daughter pair and the two young Japanese girls felt a literal chill in their own backsides. Julia, who had previously been gifted a "metal accessory" by Chuck, felt a phantom fullness in her own rear. She had picked the Senna herbs for him, and while she didn't know his exact recipe, she knew Chuck could turn any plant into a miracle drug.
Understanding her lover as she did, Julia realized that now that Chuck had a "cleansing potion" and had tasted the joys of the back door... no one in the household would be safe.
Back in her room, Julia immediately reached under her pillow for her "metal trinket." She hadn't worn it much lately because it was uncomfortable, but now she felt she needed to "acclimatize." While no one was looking, she bit her lip, her ears turning red, and slid the device into her pert rear. Her brow furrowed and her toes curled in her shoes as she seated the plug firmly.
Outside, though still humid, the air was manageable. With time left before sunset, Chuck returned to the compost bin he'd built that morning.
He'd figured out that basic blueprints shouldn't be too hard to unlock. Mastering the "technology" of composting should trigger it. He followed the advice of the two "Western Mares." He layered the bottom with sticks, then added dry leaves and grass from the jungle.
However, dry leaves alone won't ferment. Composting requires a Carbon-to-Nitrogen balance—usually a 2:1 or 3:1 ratio of dry "brown" waste to fresh "green" waste or manure. He vaguely remembered this from middle school chemistry.
Chuck spent the afternoon gathering fresh weeds, green leaves, and inedible wild fruits. He layered them with soil and ash. By evening, the barrel was over half full. He sealed it with palm leaves and twine.
Usually, this process takes months. But Chuck had his secret weapon.
[System: Host has initiated a manual crafting process. Analyzing...] [Analysis Complete!] [Composting Process—Added to Workbench Recipes] [Materials: 23kg. C/N Ratio: 1:2.7 (Within standard). Expected yield: 12kg Organic Fertilizer.] [Natural Time: 120 days.] [Notice: This process can be accelerated by occupying Workbench slots. Accelerated time: 80 hours. Slots can be stacked.]
Chuck smirked. He assigned all six of his workbench slots to the process.
[Organic Fertilizer (12kg): Synthesizing. Remaining time: 13.3 hours.]
By tomorrow morning, he'd have his fertilizer. Sugar from cane, spices from peppers, and silk from mulberry... the dream of a private island farm was becoming a reality.
As the sun set, painting the sky red, Chuck prepared to head back to the plateau to wash up for dinner. He was blocked by a curvaceous red-haired figure.
Janet stood there with her hands in her pockets, watching him. "Hey. Finished working?"
Chuck walked up the slope, his eyes traveling over her explosive, meaty curves. "Just about. What are you doing out here?"
The atmosphere was thick with sexual tension. Chuck had fulfilled her request for the livestock pen, and according to their deal, tonight he would be visiting her bed for the second time.
Janet smiled softly and stepped closer. Chuck, now 190cm (6'3") tall thanks to the Red Potion, loomed over the 175cm (5'9") woman. Janet reached up, slowly brushing some dust off his collar. Her blue eyes—like Julia's but more mature—looked into his.
"I'm here because I didn't want Julia and the others to see what's next," she whispered in her husky, "Mommy" voice.
What's next?
The scent of her mature musk intensified. A flash of red hair filled his vision as two massive, soft mounds of flesh pressed hard against his chest. Even through her loose tracksuit, her "assets" were undeniable.
She wrapped her soft arms around his neck, their noses barely inches apart. She tilted her head back, her thumb stroking the nape of his neck. "You know... I'm really grateful for what you did for 'Mommy'."
Chuck's eyes dropped instinctively to the deep, plunging cleavage and the pale skin straining against her clothes. He felt his scalp tingle. Her overwhelming maternal aura wrapped around him, giving him a sudden, primal urge to bury his face in that "abyss" and lose himself.
Janet saw exactly what he was thinking. "Want to bury your face in here?"
Her smile grew more radiant, her maternal warmth intoxicating. Her hand moved to the back of his head, gently pulling him down toward her chest.
"Come then, my sweet baby boy..."
Chuck's vision went dark as his entire face was smothered by a pair of massive, soft clouds. The scent of mature womanhood reached its absolute peak.