Chapter 15: Chapter 15 – A Cow?

The first rays of morning light filtered through the cracked windows of the decrepit manor, casting long, golden shadows across the barren halls.

Dust motes danced in the beams, illuminating the peeling wallpaper and the faint outlines of forgotten grandeur—ornate cornices now choked with cobwebs, floors warped from years of neglect.

Outside, the garden was a skeletal remnant of its former self: dead trees twisted like gnarled fingers reaching for the sky, dried grass crunching underfoot, and thick spider webs draping every branch like tattered veils.

The air carried a crisp chill, mingled with the earthy scent of dew-kissed decay, as the sun slowly climbed, bathing the ruins in a warm, reluctant glow.

Within the hall room, on the sagging bed that had witnessed their frantic union the night before, Helena’s eyes snapped open.

Her heart lurched as awareness flooded in—she had slept far too late, the position of the sun telling her so.

Panic gripped her ample frame as she bolted upright, the thin blanket slipping from her naked body.

’Oh no, the young master… I must prepare breakfast, tend to him properly!’

Her full breasts swayed heavily with the motion, nipples hardening in the cool morning air, while her thick thighs rubbed together, a sticky reminder of the night’s events lingering between them—his seed still deep inside, a warm, forbidden fullness that made her cheeks flush.

But before she could scramble for her discarded clothes, a soft blanket caught her eye, draped over her like a makeshift cover.

’Where did this come from?’

Her nostrils flared next, picking up an unfamiliar aroma wafting through the air—savory, warm, like boiling rice mixed with herbs she couldn’t quite place.

It was comforting, almost inviting, cutting through the musty staleness of the manor.

Helena’s head whipped around, scanning the dim room.

“Young master? Where are you?”

She called out, her voice husky from sleep, before she threw off the blanket entirely and stood, her bare feet padding urgently across the cold floor.

She hurried down the creaking hallway, her heavy breasts bouncing with each step, dark nipples tracing lazy circles against her skin.

The scent grew stronger, leading her not to the proper kitchen—long abandoned and overrun with mold—but to the garden area outside.

Pushing through a splintered door, she emerged into the barren expanse: the makeshift kitchen setup was rudimentary at best, a small fire pit ringed with stones, a dented pot bubbling over the flames amid the dead grass and withered stumps.

Steam rose lazily, carrying that enticing smell of rice, now flecked with bits of wild greens Viktor must have foraged.

Helena paused at the threshold, suddenly acutely aware of her nudity.

’Clothes! I must cover—!’

But in her haste, she had forgotten to grab anything, and now the blanket trailed forgotten behind her like a cape.

Her eyes darted around, landing on a peculiar sight in the distance—a fat boy, none other than Viktor himself, lumbering across the patchy ground in what looked like frantic exercise.

He was shirtless, his pale, doughy belly jiggling with every movement, sweat already gleaming on his rolls of flesh under the morning sun.

Push-ups, sit-ups, awkward runs—he was a whirlwind of effort, gasping and grunting, his chubby legs pumping as if chased by ghosts.

Viktor’s mind raced with each labored breath.

’Come on, you lazy sack—move!’

Due to him getting those abilities from Helena through the system, he had, in the morning coming out to train, distinguished the wild grasses grown inside this dead garden.

Though good herbs were very minimal, but due to his ability, he was able to understand the herbs and their counteracting mixes that could give a specific result.

Like mixing two poisonous grasses acting as body-numbing agents to accelerate metabolism, adding another to increase muscle formation, and so on.

He dropped to the grass for sit-ups, his belly folding over itself, face turning red as he curled up, only to flop back down, chest heaving.

’Twenty… no, twenty-one.’

Exhausted, he collapsed flat on the prickly grass, gasping for air as his mind wandered back to the morning’s discoveries. He shook his head, recalling how, when he first stepped out, he had thought there were not enough herbs present within the garden yard.

But the ability he awakened after filling her womb—Herbal Mastery—had unlocked a whole new world.

It allowed him to grow any herb by mixing two or more kinds and eliminating their negative properties, merging only the beneficial ones together.

For instance, he could take a herb that decreased immunity but boosted stamina, pair it with another poison that clotted blood but also increased the supply of oxygen, then remove the two harmful traits and fuse the good ones to form a new, potent hybrid herb tailored exactly to his needs.

And not only that, he noticed how to increase the concentration of that particular trait; he could merge a bunch of grasses together to form one potent one.

His ability was a cheat, and to be honest, it just made him feel greedier now.

Since morning, he had chugged down a hell of a lot of these stamina-boosting hybrids, experimenting relentlessly until half the grass in the nearby yard seemed vanished.

He had eaten like a bull, grinding the mixtures into pastes or chewing them raw, feeling the surge of energy push him through the grueling workout despite his body’s protests.

To be honest, for someone with his body, it would have been nearly impossible to run this much—muscle recovery, stamina boost, and just whatnot he chugged in.

’By the way, where is my cow?’

As he thought about a cow—something hearty and sustaining to match his voracious appetite—his eyes drifted far away, catching sight of Helena coming toward him, running with her massive, reddened tits jiggling wildly.

He was not a pervert, but she… looking through the lens after he had treated her like a woman—she looked ravishing now.

Just hell with his stamina and all, which embarrassed him on the first day, but again, they would both train their bodies well together.

He popped a tough blade into his mouth to chew absentmindedly. The bitter tang grounded him as he felt heat and a sense of pride unfurling, as he wanted to knock her out today at all costs.

His eyes lifted toward the manor, and there she was—his thick, naked nanny charging toward him, clutching the blanket he’d left her, her massive breasts flopping wildly, hips swaying in that hypnotic rhythm.

Helena arrived gasping, dropping to her knees beside him, the blanket slipping slightly to reveal one full, pendulous breast.

“Young master! What are you doing out here so early? Are you alright?”

Her hands fluttered over him, trying to help him sit up, concern etching her round face, beads of sweat from her run trickling down her cleavage.

Viktor, still panting, turned his head to her, a mischievous grin splitting his flushed face despite the burn in his muscles.

But before he could speak, he grabbed her wrist gently and pulled—hard enough to topple her forward.

Her body crashed onto his in a soft, heavy pile, her bare breasts squishing against his sweaty chest, nipples poking into his skin like firm berries.

“Hngh~!”

Helena’s eyes widened in shock, a wince escaping her lips as their bodies meshed awkwardly on the grass.

“Y-young master—!”

“Water,” he rasped, voice gravelly from exertion, his hands instinctively gripping her wide hips.

“I need water.”

She blinked rapidly, her mind catching up.

“Yes! Wait, I’ll fetch some right—”

He chuckled low, the sound rumbling through his belly, and in a swift motion, swung her body beneath him on the ground, yanking the blanket away completely.

Her naked form lay exposed under the open sky—thick thighs splayed, bushy puffy pussy glistening faintly from the remnants of last night, heavy breasts heaving with each breath.

Viktor leaned down without hesitation, latching onto one dark nipple with his mouth, sucking hard, tongue swirling roughly over the pebbled tip.

Slurp… slurp…

His teeth nipped the edge, twisting the bud until green veins bulged around the areola, a sharp sting making her wince as phantom milk beaded at the tip from the pressure.

“Ahh—! M-master, stop! We’re in the open… anyone could see!”

“Nngh… ohh…” Helena gasped, her hands pushing weakly at his shoulders, but her body betrayed her, arching slightly as a deep moan bubbled up from her throat.

The suction tugged at her core like a string, jolts racing to her pussy where folds started to swell, slickness seeping out in sticky threads.

He suckled deeper, slurping noisily, his free hand sliding down to pinch her other nipple, rolling it until it throbbed red and erect, nerves firing like electric sparks.

Slurp… pop…

“Ahh… master, it hurts so good… mmmph!”

Helena’s moans grew ragged, her thighs quivering as her pussy clenched, the bushy lips parting slightly to reveal the textured inner walls pulsing with need.

He pulled back with a wet pop, a string of saliva dangling from his lips to the glistening nipple, now swollen and shiny.

“Why isn’t milk coming out?”

He teased, eyes twinkling with playful lust, before diving back to bite the underside, tongue flicking to soothe the burn after he left teeth marks there.

“Aaahhnn~!”

Helena blinked up at him, confusion furrowing her brow amid the flush of arousal, her breaths coming in hot pants.

“What? Milk? Young master, I—ahh! Don’t… nngh!”

Suddenly her eyes widened as his middle finger directly landed on her pussy and pinched her clit as if it were a nipple, that sent her hips bucking, pussy juices trailing down her ass crack.

Viktor laughed outright, shaking his head at her innocent blankness.

“Nothing, you big oaf. Can’t even get a small joke, huh?”

He lingered on her expression for a beat, then sighed, pushing himself up with effort, his cock already half-hard in his pants from the contact, tenting the fabric with a thick outline.

“Come on, let’s go before the food I cooked burns to shit.”

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