God of Milfs: The Gods Request Me To Make a Milf Harem - Chapter 877

Chapter 877: Bullying The Disabled
After gently placing Nina down next to Camila who also instinctively hugged each other in their unconscious state which was rather wholesome to look at—Kafka then stood up from the floor like a titan rising from battle, veins still pulsing, eyes scanning the room with focus.

And it didn’t take too long to find her next targets.

Olivia and Abigaille were huddled in the far corner, pressed together like frightened little bunnies.

Their wide eyes tracked his every move, hands clasped tightly around one another that they left marks.

Seeing his prey right before him, Kafka took one step toward them with his cock bobbing like a battering ram.

But just then—clack-clack-clack—frantic noises came from the side.

And when he turned he was surprised to see June, crutch in hand, yanking at the locked door with all her might.

“Come on, come on, just open! I wanna escape! My body can’t handle that thing! My legs just got fixed; they’ll break again!”

She rattled the handle so hard her crutches clattered against the wood.

“I’m abled, damn it! I’m not built for that! Let me out!”

But just then the room went dead silent.

And June who noticed this change froze.

Slowly, very slowly, she turned her head.

Kafka was staring at her.

Dead. Center. Target acquired.

She gulped so loud it echoed.

“N-No, Kafka…no, hold on! This is not the time! Please, please just let me escape! I really can’t handle something like that! I won’t survive it! My body will give out! I’m begging you—”

Too late.

Kafka crossed the room in two strides. One hand clamped around her waist like a steel band.

June shrieked, flailing her crutch like a sword.

“HEY! HOLD UP! WAIT! STOP! I’M WEAK! I’M A FRAGILE LADY! T-THIS IS BULLYING THE DISABALED!”

Clatter!

The crutch hit the floor as no matter what she said, it didn’t work.

Kafka just lifted her clean off the ground like she weighed nothing, placed her on the bed next to Evangeline, Lyra, and bella, and spread her legs wide.

Her skimpy outfit bunched up around her hips, panties shoved aside in one rough tug.

“NO! NO! NO! I’M NOT READY! MY LEGS ARE STILL HEALING—KAFKAAAAA!”

One smooth, merciless thrust.

SCHLURP!

One brutal, seamless push and he buried himself to the hilt.

June’s scream started at a pitch only dogs could hear, climbed an octave, and then—pop—cut off like someone yanked the plug.

Her eyes rolled back, body going rigid, then limp.

She had actually fainted on the spot, legs dangling, mouth open with a single tear sliding down her cheek.

But Kafka didn’t care.

His hips moved with mechanical, relentless precision—in, out, in, out—each thrust deep enough to make her unconscious frame jolt like a ragdoll.

The wet slap-slap-slap of skin on skin filled the room, punctuated only by the creak of the bedframe and the occasional thud of June’s head against the headboard.

He even leaned down, mouth latching onto one of her breasts like a starving animal. His tongue flicked over the nipple, teeth grazing just hard enough to leave a red mark, then sucked—hard, fucking and sucking at the same time.

Abigaille and Olivia, meanwhile, huddled in the farthest corner of the bedroom, arms wrapped tight around each other, trembling.

They looked less like grown women and more like two terrified little bunnies, wide-eyed and helpless, pressed together for comfort as the rest of their sisters were picked off, one after another.

As Kafka’s shadow loomed over the bed, Olivia’s voice trembled.

“Abi, what are we going to do? Once he’s finished with June, he’s definitely coming for us. Did you see—did you see what he did to Seraphina? And Lyra? And Bella? And now June…There’s no way we can handle that! Not a chance!”

Abigaille tried to put on a brave face, but her lower lip quivered, and she clung to Olivia tighter.

“I-I know, Liv. I’ve never seen him like this. He’s always been rough and tough but this is another level. He’s…He’s an animal in heat right now, completely unstoppable!”

“He won’t stop until he’s filled everyone—until every last one of us is completely done in!”

She gulped, peeking over Olivia’s shoulder at Kafka, who was now eyeing them like a predator who was looking at his next meal.

“I genuinely don’t know what to do…”

Olivia’s eyes darted between Abigaille and Kafka, a nervous plan forming.

“Maybe…Maybe I should just sacrifice myself. You know, like Seraphina did in the beginning. If I throw myself at him, maybe I can…I don’t know, tire him out, maybe take some of the damage so you can escape. At least, buy you a little time, right?”

Abigaille’s eyes widened in horror.

“No! No, I can’t let you do that! That’s too sad, Liv, you’re my best friend! I don’t want to see you get completely ruined out there, not all alone. I won’t let you become a sacrificial pawn, not for me, not for anyone!”

“Not to mention…” She added, her voice defeated. “…that such a tactic is actually useless. Look at him, Liv. Look at the stamina he has.”

“Even if you go and try to deal with him alone, there’s nothing you can do about it. He won’t stop. He’ll just finish you off and move on to the next me without a single change in his breathing.”

“I-It’s completely useless. It makes all of us nothing more than…than toys.”

“T-Then, what can we do, Abi?” Olivia asked in a desperate manner, not wanting to be skewered like a piece of meat. “What can we do to save ourselves from this mess?”

But in response, Abigaille only gave a wry, defeated smile, the expression a ghastly twisting of her sweet features.

“Nothing at all, my sweet Liv. Nothing at all. I guess…I guess we can only surrender ourselves.”

The word, surrender, hung in the air, a final, awful bell tolling their fate. Olivia gulped, a shiver raking her spine as she realized the full, explicit horror of what was about to happen to them.

They were next. They were utterly, completely next.

And just then, June, even in her sleep-like coma, let out a deep, wet, animal moan.

“Ahhhh!♡~ Ahhhhh!♡~ Haughhhh!♡~”

Kafka had buried himself into her one final, tremendous time. His immense cock pulsed deep inside her, emptying his second load into her numb, violated womb.

The hot, thick ropes of semen filled her up, pushing past her cervix until she felt distended, a living receptacle for his immense filth.

Kafka, barely pausing, put a pillow under her head before he stood up and turned toward Abigaille and Olivia.

His cock bobbed, still rock hard, dripping, and his eyes locked on them like a hunter sizing up his next prize. He started forward, each step making his cock sway before him like the world’s most obscene scepter.

Seeing this, Olivia whimpered, shoving herself further into Abigaille’s arms.

“He’s coming! Abi, he’s coming! He’s looking right at us—what do we do?!”

Abigaille could only stare, wide-eyed and hopeless.

But then, a wild, desperate spark of inspiration struck.

“Wait, Liv! There’s one thing I’ve seen in movies and TV shows. Whenever someone is possessed, or out of control, you know what they do?”

Olivia blinked, almost giddy with terror. “What?”

Abigaille’s voice quavered, but she held on to hope.

“They use the power of love and friendship! Sometimes they hug the person, or confess their feelings, and it magically brings them back. Maybe if we show him how much we care, it’ll snap him out of this spell…It’s worth a try, right?”

Olivia stared at her, desperate enough to try anything.

“You know what? I don’t care how silly it is. Let’s do it. As long as it keeps us safe, I’ll try anything!”

Abigaille nodded, determined now. “Okay, on three—”

They didn’t even count.

As Kafka closed in, Olivia took a deep breath, bolted from her corner, and threw herself at him, arms flinging around his waist, pressing her cheek to his chest in a tight, desperate hug.

“Kafi! I love you! Your mother loves you so much! Please, you don’t have to do this, you can come back to us!” She pleaded, voice cracking.

Abigaille hurried to join her, wrapping her arms around Kafka from the other side, squeezing him tight.

“Kafi, listen! We need you—not this…this wild animal! We love you, Kafi, come back to us! Come back to the real world, to your wives, to your mothers!”

She buried her face in his shoulder, trembling, pressing herself as close as possible.

But honestly Abigaille didn’t believe for a second that this movie-style method would work.

In fact, even as she pressed herself against his side, heart pounding, she half expected him to simply hoist her up and spear her on that monstrous cock, the way he’d done to every other wife tonight, pounding her senseless until her mind turned to digital mush.

It felt more like a last-ditch effort—something desperate and doomed, an end-of-the-line move before the inevitable.

But then—out of nowhere—Kafka’s voice cut through the tension, not the growl of an animal in heat, but his usual, familiar tone:

“…Mom?”

For a second, both Abigaille and Olivia just blinked in shock, staring up at him.

It took a moment for Abigaille to realize he was actually looking at her—not with that wild, primal lust—but with confusion, as if waking from a dream.

His brow furrowed, his posture slackened, the spell gone. He looked…normal.

Abigaille’s mouth dropped open. “Kafi?” She whispered, as if afraid to believe it.

He nodded slowly, glancing around the room with mounting confusion and embarrassment, the bloodlust in his eyes utterly faded.

As the realization hit, Abigaille’s shock transformed into giddy relief.

She jumped in place, hugging Kafka tightly, nearly knocking Olivia over in the process.

“Yes! Yes! It worked! It actually worked! I can’t believe it, the stupidest thing they do in movies actually worked! All those times I mocked it, all those times I thought, ‘There’s no way a hug and a confession of love can fix a demon-possessed rampaging monster!’—but it worked! Thank god!”

She cried, her laughter tumbling out in waves as she hugged him tighter, almost bouncing with excitement.

Olivia, still clutching Kafka, let out a wry, shaky laugh, running a hand through her mussed hair.

“Honestly, we should’ve done this from the start.” She quipped, glancing around at the wreckage of naked bodies on the bed. “Maybe then no one would’ve had to go through the…um…treatment you put everyone through, Kafi.”

Kafka blinked, still looking dazed.

“Treatment? What treatment did I put you all through…?”

He trailed off as he took in the scene: the ruined, stained bed, Lyra and Seraphina draped over each other, still twitching; Bella sprawled in boneless, blissful exhaustion; June slumped at the end, legs splayed, leaking, her expression still caught somewhere between dream and delirium; and Camila and Nina tangled together, clutching each other in mutual support, both looking freshly ruined.

Seeing what he had done, Kafka ran a hand over his face and laughed.

“Yeah. I really did mess up. Judging by the state of everyone, I don’t think anyone’s going to be able to walk tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Olivia smiled awkwardly, catching his gaze. “Kafi, I don’t think half of them are going to be able to walk for a week after what you did to them.”

“Can you really blame me, though?” He chuckled, looking a bit sheepish. “Mom put that spell on me. I mean, I knew the things were happening but it was like…everything was amped up, my body wasn’t listening, my desires just took over.”

“All I could do was go with it. I mean—look at the damage.”

“Whatever the reason, I’m just glad you’re back.” Abigaille reached up, cupping his cheek, eyes shining with relief. “For a second there, I honestly thought you were going to demolish us.”

She said with a nervous laugh, her gaze dropping down to his cock—still half-hard, massive, and glistening in the soft light.

With a gentle touch, she stroked her hand along his length, marveling.

“If this thing had gone inside me right now, I don’t think I’d ever be the same again…”

Olivia joined her, giggling nervously, one hand slowly exploring his balls, the other tracing the thick shaft.

“Yeah, with how thick it is…” She squeezed her arms together, pressing her breasts against him for emphasis. “…I think it would just pull my insides right out.”

“There’s no way I could handle that after what we just saw…I was honestly about to accept my fate.”

But as they traded these relieved, nervous touches and laughter, Kafka’s eyes darkened with mischief, and before they could process it, he grabbed them both—one strong arm around each of their waists, hands squeezing their asses and pulling them flush against his chest to their surprise.

“You two are talking like you’ve managed to escape me.” He leaned in, voice dropping to a threatening tone.

“But like I’d just let you go after everything that’s happened tonight.”

He squeezed their butts again, his cock sliding up between their thighs.

“After all that…do you really think I’m going to leave this room without putting my children inside you two as well?”