The goats were still wandering, occasionally looking up to scan the horizon and then lowering their heads to graze. Despite the recent fright, none of them seemed particularly saddened by the ram that had suddenly vanished.
Watching them, Chuck recalled a science video he had once seen. It claimed that goats were among the least emotional and most disconnected animals; perhaps that was why they were so often used as symbols for demons and evil.
Fortunately, Chuck was raising them to eat their meat and shear their wool, not to be his pets. This cold detachment actually made things easier.
Finding another healthy adult female in the flock, Chuck pulled out another paralytic dart. He crept closer, attempting to repeat his success. Even though the flock was alert, this tactic was nearly impossible for their low-intelligence brains to defend against.
Unfortunately, Chuck wasn't some hidden weapons genius from a martial arts clan; he was just an ordinary harem master enhanced by a cheat system. This second dart grazed the top of the ewe's head and whistled into the distance.
The flock bleated in chaos and scattered deeper into the hills.
Missing his mark, Chuck shook his hand out, feeling his grip was off. He was annoyed. More specifically, he could feel his mind was restless, causing his concentration and accuracy to slip.
His "big head" told him to stay calm and focus on the task, but his "little head" was undeniably affecting his mental state with the thought of finishing his deal with Janet and finally plowing that red-haired mare.
Precision required a steady heart and a calm spirit. If he were in a physical brawl with a beast, this restlessness wouldn't matter, but for this... it was a problem. Chuck rubbed his chin. Even with a harem and potion-enhanced mental stats, he was still being swayed by desire.
The old saying was true: Even heroes have a weakness for beauties. He could keep trying, but it felt like a waste of time. He needed a way to regulate himself. He looked at the rising sun. By now, the women at home should be awake.
Heroes struggle with beauties, but what about a "Sage"?
If he couldn't pass the hurdle as a man, he would simply become a Sage.
Early morning.
Yitong Gu opened her beautiful eyes and habitually checked the space beside her. The traces of last night's battle were everywhere on the blankets. The other women were sprawled out in various states of nakedness, their legs stained with dried white streaks.
Looking down at herself, she saw her black forest was also matted together. Blushing slightly, Yitong propped herself up and sat up. Her two snowy, heavy breasts—soft as water bags—slumped forward. She swayed her voluptuous, mature body, letting her long black hair cascade down her back, and slid her feet into her flip-flops.
She stood up. Sifting through the messy clothes on the floor, she found her floral sundress. Lifting her arms and revealing her fleshy, mature armpits, she pulled the soft fabric over her body. She elegantly pulled her hair out from behind her neck, releasing a waft of fragrance. However, she frowned and gently rubbed her breasts, which were tightly constricted by the dress.
They were painfully swollen again.
She didn't know if it was because of the nutrient supply at night, but Yitong found her milk production was much faster while she slept than during the day. After she confessed this to Chuck, he had fixed two times a day to "clear the pipes" for her.
The first was the nightly coupling before bed. Chuck would plow her into a state of peak ecstasy while simultaneously sucking and squeezing her dry. It made the mature mother feel like she had wasted the first half of her life before meeting him.
The second time was usually during breakfast.
This brought up the morning routine Chuck and his harem had grown accustomed to. Usually, Chuck was the first one up. He would stoke the fireplace and then leave the room. Sometimes he'd return quickly to crawl back into bed or choose a lucky girl to fuck awake—the sounds of which served as an alarm clock for the others. Other times, he had work to do and wouldn't return until the sun was up and breakfast was ready.
In those cases, as the household manager, Yitong was the second to rise. She would tidy the clothes, cover the sleeping girls with blankets, wash up, and then start cooking over the fireplace. The aroma of boiling taro or roasted meat would eventually rouse the rest of the house.
Whether Chuck returned early to fuck someone or sat down to eat with everyone, he always called Yitong to his side to start the "clearing" process.
Aside from these two sessions, Chuck had strictly forbidden her from expressing her milk herself unless it was an absolute emergency. His orders were absolute.
Yitong rubbed her chest and smiled helplessly. Two damp spots were already blooming on her floral dress. Despite the ache, she endured the morning swelling, waiting for him to return and drain the night's accumulation.
She washed up, fetched water, and prepared the ingredients under the outdoor awning before returning to the fireplace to cook. Although she hadn't been a housewife in her past life as a high-powered career woman, she had found a strange peace in managing Chuck's home. She had even grown to love it.
As the taro and sweet potatoes bobbed in the boiling water and the goat meat sizzled, Yitong prepared herbs on a wooden cutting board with a bronze knife. Life on the island was getting better every day. She had heard from Julia and Janet that Chuck had built a greenhouse and a pen. Things were only going to improve.
Being his woman was the luckiest thing that could have happened to her...
As she waited for the water to boil, Yitong stared at the flames, a flash of guilt crossing her mind. She remembered when she first met Chuck—how she had looked down on him, guarding herself against him as if he were a low-class threat, only to be forced to beg for his help because of her own incompetence. And then, the way he had...
The memories of his training methods made her mature body tremble. Her face flushed a deep crimson. Between her legs, where she wasn't wearing panties, the excitement caused her mature depth to leak more nectar.
She missed it. The proud woman she used to be could never have imagined she would so completely adore a man several years younger than her. And alongside her own daughter, no less.
Just then, the wooden door creaked. Yitong turned to see Chuck, his breathing slightly ragged as if he had been rushing. Her worry flared; she set down her spoon to ask him what was wrong, but then she caught his gaze.
His eyes traveled down to her heavy, rounded hips. Noticing the way the sundress clung to her backside without the telltale line of a pair of panties, a fire erupted in his eyes.
"Hubby? What's... wait... I'm still... mmmph!"
Chuck strode forward and pulled her into a crushing embrace. His large hands gripped her fleshy, mature buttocks, kneading them into various shapes while his mouth crashed onto her hot, wet lips. Their tongues tangled in a frantic, heated exchange. Chuck's dragon—already hard as a red-hot iron bar—pressed firmly against Yitong's soft belly. The pressure against his chest caused her two sacks of milk to leak even more fluid.
The air was thick with the scent of womanhood and fresh milk.
Yitong's feet lost their strength inside her flip-flops. She habitually wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning into him and letting him take whatever he wanted. The sounds of wet slopping and her soul-melting moans filled the room until they finally broke apart, a few silver threads of saliva connecting them.
"Hubby... what's come over you?" Yitong asked, her eyes full of lust and her face glowing with a rosy hue.
Chuck didn't explain. He tightened his grip on her fat ass and, with a soft cry from Yitong, lifted her clean off the ground.
Clack.
Her flip-flops fell to the floor. The burning dragon that had been against her belly slid down, past her pubic mound, and shoved its way beneath the floral hem of her dress. It pressed aggressively against the entrance of her already flooded, mature cave.
"Nngh~"
Feeling the familiar heat, Yitong let out a whimper, her hips wiggling anxiously. Their eyes were level now. In the past, Chuck couldn't have lifted a 170cm voluptuous woman so easily in this "potty-training" position, but now, lifting Yitong was no different than lifting her daughter, Momo.
Their foreheads touched. Looking into her trembling eyes, Chuck smiled and whispered a command:
"Wrap your legs around my waist. I'm going to use you as a human sleeve."
"Master..."
His blunt, crude words made her tremble with excitement. The overflow from between her legs slid down his shaft, dripping onto the floor. Her eyes turned into hearts as she obediently wrapped her snowy, fleshy legs around his waist, hooking her rosy feet behind his back.
She didn't care why he wanted her the moment he stepped through the door. She didn't care about the boiling water or the meat starting to char.
"Master... give it to me, hurry, give it to me..."
Yitong wiggled her fat ass, begging him in a voice like a spoiled little girl. The contrast made Chuck's dragon even hotter and more painful.
He had chosen Yitong for a simple reason: only a top-tier mature woman like her could calm the restlessness Janet had caused. This wasn't a substitute; both women had their own charms, but this specific type of "mature meat" possessed a feminine power that younger girls simply lacked.
"Look at me," Chuck breathed, staring into her eyes. "Tell me, what are you to me?"
"I am..." Sweat began to bead on Yitong's skin. Her scent grew heavier as her butt-meat overflowed between his fingers, feeling thick and slippery. "Master's... bitch-dog."
"And what else?"
To her surprise, her answer—which she thought would lead to him immediately plowing her—only earned her a second question.