"Haaah.... Haah...."

Mira ran through the overgrown garden, her bare feet slapping against dirt and grass.

Her lungs burned, chest heaving with each gasping breath. The morning air was cool but did nothing to quench the fire burning through her body.

She rounded a corner past wild bushes—

And though his feet kept moving, her mind stopped dead.

Viktor.

He was in the middle of the garden clearing, running in place. His chubby body glistened with sweat, skin flushed from exertion.

He wore only his underwear—tight fabric clinging to his ass and barely containing the bulge at his groin.

His soft belly jiggled with each movement, the slight muscle definition in his arms and chest visible beneath the layer of fat. Sweat dripped down his neck, his chest, pooling in the creases of his body.

As Mira watched, he stumbled to a stop. His hands braced on his knees as he gasped for air, chest heaving. Then he dropped to the ground, lying flat on his back in the grass.

His hand reached out, plucking a blade of grass. He brought it to his mouth and chewed slowly, eyes closing.

"Mmm... neutralized..." His voice came out between heavy breaths.

He sniffed at his own armpit, then nodded to himself. "The herb worked. Body smell's gone."

His eyes opened, tilting his head back to look at the sky—

And saw Mira.

She stood frozen at the edge of the clearing, her body backlit by the rising sun. Her tattered dress clung to her curves, damp with sweat and the evidence of her arousal from last night.

No bra underneath—her massive tits hung heavy, sagging naturally with their weight. Each step she'd taken had made them bounce and sway, nipples dragging against rough fabric until they stood out like thick pegs through the material.

Her hair was a mess—black strands matted with dirt and sweat. But in the morning light, Viktor noticed something he'd missed before. Green strands mixed throughout, catching the sun.

Natural highlights he'd been too busy staring at her ass to notice yesterday.

Her face was flushed, green eyes wide and luminous. Full lips parted as she gasped for breath. The face of a woman who'd given birth, who'd survived hardship—not girlish or delicate, but raw and real.

A thick body that had nursed a child. Hips that had spread to push out life.

Made for breeding.

Smoke formed in the air as Viktor exhaled, watching her approach.

Mira forced her legs to move, each step feeling like wading through mud. Her eyes stayed locked on him—on his gasping, sweaty body sprawled in the grass.

She reached the edge of where he lay, her speed slowing to a stop. Her voice came out breathless, stammering. "Y-Young Master... Lady Helena sent me here to help..."

Her eyes betrayed her.

They dropped from his face down his body. Past his heaving chest. Past his soft belly.

To the bulge straining against his underwear.

The fabric was damp with sweat and something else—a wet spot at the tip where precum had leaked through.

The outline was unmistakable. Thick. Long. The shaft pressed against one thigh, the bulbous head clearly defined.

Mira's mind flashed back to last night.

That cock splitting Helena's ass. The veiny shaft pumping in and out. The thick head disappearing inside.

The skin pulling back like a peeled banana as he thrust. The heavy balls swinging. The wild hair at the base making it look primal and masculine—nothing like her smooth wooden dildo.

Real. Raw. Brutal.

And his last words to her made her feel excited, as there was fear but also strange feelings surfacing since, in the end, she came here.

"Is there... anything I can help with?" The words tumbled out broken, her voice cracking.

Viktor chuckled, shaking his head. Sweat droplets flew from his damp hair. "Tell me about your skills. What are you good at?"

Mira blinked, dragged out of her cock-focused reverie. "My... skills?"

"Yeah." Viktor sat up slightly, propping himself on his elbows. "Abilities. What can you do?"

Mira's mouth worked soundlessly for a moment. She forced herself to look away from his groin, staring instead at a point somewhere above his head.

"I'm... I'm good at swimming, craftsmanship," she stammered. "Wooden carvings. Making things with my hands. I also know sewing—basic repairs, making simple clothes..."

Viktor's eyes traveled down her body as she spoke.

From his position on the ground looking up, the view was obscene.

Her dress was soaked through at the crotch—the brown fabric sucked up between her pussy lips, outlining every fold. The wet patch had spread, showing just how aroused she'd been all night. Still was.

Her tits hung above him like udders. So heavy they pulled the neckline of her dress down, threatening to spill out completely. Her nipples stood out like cow teats, thick and long, pressing through fabric.

A breeding cow standing over him.

Viktor's head tilted slightly to the side as she continued talking, her words spilling out faster now as she tried to distract herself.

"I make wooden pieces—small things, decorative. I use simple tools, nothing fancy. My late husband taught me some smithing basics, but I'm not very good. I can only make small knives, the kind used for—"

"Hic—!?"

Her words cut off in a strangled gasp.

Viktor's head had shifted. Moved between her legs.

He was directly beneath her now, face tilted up between her thick thighs. His breath ghosted against the wet fabric clinging to her pussy.

"And where do you get the tools to cut wood?" His voice came out casual, conversational—as if he wasn't positioned to bury his face in her cunt.

"I... I make them... small knives... my husband taught me basic smithing but it's useless, I told this already—"

Viktor's finger moved.

He reached up and poked directly at her pussy through the dress—right against the wet fabric sucked between her lips.

His fingertip pressed against her swollen clit.

"AHHH!" Mira's scream tore through the garden.

Her legs gave out. She pitched forward, falling onto her hands and knees with Viktor between her spread thighs.

Her face landed directly on his crotch.

The wet spot on his underwear pressed against her cheek, hot and damp. The thick outline of his cock pushed against her face, separated only by thin fabric.

She could smell it—sweat and precum and masculine musk that made her head spin as it was not smelly as she thought but rather pungent.

Her legs ended up on either side of his shoulders, dress bunching at her knees. She was straddling his face now, pussy pressed against him through soaked fabric, ass in the air.

"W-Wait! Young master, I—"

"Shh..."

Viktor's thick thighs closed around her head like a vice.

His chubby legs pressed against her ears, muffling sound. His cock pressed harder against her face, the bulge throbbing. More precum leaked through, hot and sticky against her skin.

She couldn't breathe properly. His thighs squeezed tighter, his groin smothering her face.

Viktor's hands grabbed her ass—both massive cheeks filling his palms. His fingers sank deep into soft flesh, spreading them apart.

He chuckled, the sound vibrating through her pussy pressed against his face. "I just thought about that wooden piece you had."

His grip tightened on her ass, yanking the cheeks wider.

"You didn't just make a dildo—a fake dick for yourself."

His hand moved to her dress. Found the seam. Yanked.

RIIIP!

"STOP! That's the only cloth I have!" Mira's muffled cry barely escaped his thighs.

Viktor tore the fabric away from her pussy, exposing her completely.

Pink.

Her pussy was completely pink—delicate petals glistening with arousal. The lips were puffy and swollen, spreading slightly to show the pink flesh inside that seemed to be ruined by this horny woman's dildo fetish.

Above, her asshole was the same shade—a tight pink ring nestled between her fat ass cheeks.

Nothing like Helena's hairy, used holes. This was fresh. Maintained.

Dripping wet.

Viktor's finger traced along her slit, feeling the slickness coat his fingertip. The lips parted easily under his touch, revealing more of that pink interior.

"You weren't a virgin," he observed, his finger circling her entrance. "But you kept yourself so clean... so pretty..."

His finger moved up to her clit—that swollen nub peeking from its hood. He pressed against it, rubbing in slow circles.

'A mole... on pussy?' He also noticed a small black mole on her right labia.

"Oingh~!!" Mira's whole body jerked, a strangled moan vibrating against his cock through his underwear.

"You even made tools to shave your pussy." Viktor's voice came out amused, almost mocking. "How slutty."

His finger pressed harder against her clit, then moved down to her entrance. He pushed inside—just the tip at first.

Tight.

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