thunk... thunk... thunk...

The rhythmic sound echoed through the manor's upper corridor as Viktor pinned the last nail into the bedframe.

He dropped the hammer, letting it clatter to the floor, and immediately fell backward onto the mattress he'd just finished constructing.

The bed bounced beneath him—really bounced—thanks to the stitched grass he'd stuffed inside the fabric casing, layering it until it formed a springy, almost luxurious surface.

The frame itself was massive, easily big enough for three or four people to sprawl across without crowding.

Viktor's chest heaved as he stared up at the ceiling beams he'd reinforced earlier that day. His muscles burned. His hands ached. Splinters still jutted from his palms where the wood had fought back.

But damn, it felt good.

He closed his eyes, breathing deep, letting the fatigue wash over him in waves. Three days. Maybe four. Maybe even less than that since he'd woken up in the past.

And already so much had happened—things he'd never imagined doing in his past life.

'Never thought I'd become such a lustful bastard,' he mused, a wry smile tugging at his lips.

People evolved after getting regressed, right? Well, he'd deteriorated instead. The thought made him chuckle out loud, the sound bouncing off the empty room.

"Let's take a nap," he muttered, letting his eyes drift shut.

But then—

"Young master?"

His eyes snapped open.

Two silhouettes stood framed in the doorway, backlit by the dim yellow glow of the oil lamp he'd left burning downstairs.

Mira and Helena.

They stepped inside, moving slowly, cautiously, their bare feet padding softly against the floorboards. The darkness made everything feel dreamlike—soft edges, warm shadows, the faint scent of herbs and sweat clinging to their skin.

Viktor didn't sit up. He just watched them approach, his body too tired to move.

"Is Toby asleep?" he asked, voice rough.

"Yes," Mira whispered, her eyes flicking to the bed, then back to him.

They reached the edge of the mattress and paused, glancing at each other before sitting down on either side of him. The bed dipped under their weight, springs creaking softly.

Helena ran her hand along the surface, pressing down experimentally. "This... this is really good, young master," she murmured, genuine surprise coloring her voice.

Viktor let out a tired breath. "Thanks. Took long enough."

He turned his head slightly, looking between them. "Why are you both awake? You worked hard all day. You should be resting."

Neither answered immediately.

Instead, they leaned inward, slowly, until their heads came to rest on his arms—Mira on his left, Helena on his right.

"You also worked hard today, young master," Mira said softly, her breath warm against his shoulder.

"You should be resting too, young lord," Helena added, her voice barely above a whisper.

Viktor chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest. "I thought... the sooner we make this place better, the sooner Toby and you both can live somewhere decent."

He paused, then added with a grin, "After all, there's no one else here but us."

The words hung in the air.

Both women looked at each other over his torso, then back down at him, their gazes soft but hungry.

Mira moved first.

She slid down slowly, her lips brushing against his collarbone, then his chest. Viktor felt her mouth press against his skin through the thin, sweat-soaked fabric of his shirt.

"Mira, don't," he said, half-laughing. "I'm covered in dust. Come on."

She didn't respond with words.

Instead, she kissed lower, her fingers finding the buckle of his belt. The metal clinked softly as she worked it open.

"Don't move," she whispered, her voice like silk. "Just rest."

Viktor lifted his head slightly, looking down past the curve of his belly. He could see her through the dim light—her delicate fingers tugging his pants down, revealing his half-erect cock.

"My perverted wife," he muttered, shaking his head with a grin. "It's late, you know."

Mira wrapped her fingers around his shaft, stroking it slowly, feeling it swell and harden in her grip. The heat of it pulsed against her palm as she pumped him with deliberate, teasing strokes. She leaned in, her tongue darting out to give the head a slow, teasing lick—a wet slurp that coated the sensitive slit with her saliva.

As she worked him with her hand, her hips arched upward slightly, her body instinctively responding to her own growing arousal. The thin fabric of her nightgown stretched taut across her backside, and Viktor could see the subtle outline of her pussy—the delicate slit pressed against the cloth, dampness already beginning to darken the material between her thighs.

"You did so much hard work today, husband," she murmured, her eyes flicking up to meet his. "So rest... and let me do my wifely duty."

Viktor let his head drop back onto the mattress with a breathless laugh. "No wife does that, you know."

But Mira ignored him completely.

Her gaze turned back to his cock, watching it throb in her hand. She parted her lips and took the head into her mouth, a muffled, needy moan escaping her throat. "Mmmph..." Her mouth was hot and wet, and she sucked gently, her tongue swirling around the sensitive tip before drawing him deeper with a wet, sloppy sound. The vibration sent pleasure rippling up his shaft.

Viktor groaned, his eyes fluttering shut.

Then he felt movement on his other side.

He turned his head and saw Helena unbuttoning her blouse, her fingers working the fabric open to reveal the swell of her massive, milk-heavy breasts. Faint green veins pulsed under the pale skin.

"Helena... what are you doing?" he asked, though his voice had gone low, rough with anticipation.

She didn't answer.

Instead, she shrugged the blouse off her shoulders, letting it fall away completely. Her breasts hung heavy and full, the nipples already hardening into tight points in the cool air. They swayed gently with her movements, pale and round, the areolas flushed pink with arousal.

She pushed herself up onto her knees and leaned over him, pressing her body close. Her hands came up to cup one of her own breasts, squeezing it, massaging the soft flesh until the veins bulged slightly.

She gripped her nipple between her fingers and twisted it—hard. A sharp, pained gasp escaped her lips as she winced.

A bead of milk formed at the tip, glistening in the lamplight.

Then she pressed her nipple directly against Viktor's lips.

He surrendered without a word, opening his mouth and sucking hard.

Helena gasped again, this time in pure pleasure, her eyes squeezing shut as the sensation shot through her. Warm milk flooded Viktor's mouth, sweet and thick, and he swallowed greedily, his lips sealed tight around her nipple, pulling and tugging like a hungry babe.

Her hands wrapped around the back of his head, fingers threading through his hair, holding him in place as she leaned into him.

Her chin rested on top of his head, her breath coming in short, trembling gasps. "Ah... ahh..."

Below, Mira's mouth worked his cock with slow, deliberate strokes, her tongue tracing every ridge, every vein.

She took him deeper, inch by inch, until she felt him hit the back of her throat, causing a soft gagging sound.

Her saliva coated his length, making obscene wet sounds as she bobbed her head up and down. "Mmm... glk..."

Her free hand slid down, her fingers wrapping around the base of his shaft while her other hand drifted lower—cupping his balls, massaging them gently, feeling their weight in her palm.

She rolled them carefully between her fingers, squeezing just enough to make Viktor's hips jerk upward involuntarily.

Viktor groaned around Helena's nipple, the vibration making her shudder. Her milk flowed faster now, spilling into his mouth in warm, pulsing streams.

His hands moved on instinct—one sliding up to cup Helena's other breast, squeezing gently, feeling the weight of it in his palm.

His thumb brushed over her nipple, teasing it, coaxing another droplet of milk to bead at the tip.

The other hand drifted down to tangle in Mira's hair, using her braid as a handle to guide her rhythm, encouraging her to take him deeper.

He could feel the tight heat of her throat constricting around him, her soft moans muffled into wet, guttural sounds. "Mmmph... glk... slurp..."

Helena's hand joined his on her breast, squeezing herself harder, her other hand sliding down Viktor's chest, tracing the lines of his muscles.

Lower and lower she moved, until her fingers brushed against his balls where Mira's hand was already working.

Mira pulled back slightly, gasping for breath, her lips swollen and glistening.

A thick strand of saliva connected her mouth to the tip of Viktor's cock, and she licked it away slowly, her eyes glazed with lust. "Mmm... so good..." she mumbled.

Helena's fingers slipped beneath Mira's, taking over the massage of Viktor's balls.

She kneaded them with practiced gentleness, rolling them in her palm while her thumb traced the sensitive seam between them.

Mira dove back down, taking Viktor deep into her throat once more with a hungry sound. Her nose pressed against his pelvis, her throat convulsing around him as she swallowed, and Viktor nearly came right then and there.

The room filled with a symphony of wet, obscene sounds—the sloppy slurp and suck of Mira's mouth, the soft gulping as Viktor drank, Helena's shuddering gasps, and the muffled moans from Mira's throat as she took every inch.

Moonlight and lamplight danced across tangled limbs, sweat-slicked skin, trembling bodies.

Viktor's cock throbbed in Mira's mouth, pulsing with each heartbeat.

Her lips stretched wide around him, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked harder, her tongue working the underside of his shaft with wicked skill.

Helena's milk continued to flow, dripping down Viktor's chin now as he drank from her.

Her hips rocked slightly, grinding against nothing, her own arousal dampening the fabric between her thighs.

And somewhere in the back of Viktor's mind, through the haze of pleasure and exhaustion, a single thought surfaced:

'This... this is home—?'

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