Primordial Villain with a Slave Harem

“Then my mothers have been neglecting me all this time.”

“What do you mean?!” Mearie shouted all of a sudden, her voice cracking as if personally affronted. “Neglecting you? Quinlan Elysiar, how dare you even suggest such a thing!”

Luminara’s face, usually serene, contorted into a mask of pure indignation. “Neglecting you?!” she echoed, her voice rising to a near-wail. “Explain yourself, young man, right this instant!”

Instead of answering the offended cries of his mothers whose sole existence revolved around motherhood and thus felt personally wronged by his words, Quinlan simply grabbed onto one divine mommy milker of his two mothers with each of his hands, his fingers kneading the soft flesh before he gently, yet firmly, guided one of each woman’s nipple into his mouth.

“This baby,” he declared, his voice muffled around Luminara’s supple breast, “is hungry. He has been for a very long time, yet you never fed him… He almost starved on your watch…”

With a gentle, insistent bite, Quinlan began to suckle. A deep, guttural moan of pure exhilaration tore free from Luminara’s throat, her body arching into his as tears welled and spilled from her eyes.

“Oh, Quinnie!” she gasped, her voice thick with emotion and barely coherent between her breaths. “Is that… is that what you meant? We always, always wanted to do this with you, but we felt… we truly felt you’d find it strange if we offered. So, with terribly pained hearts and lips bitten raw with frustration, we endured… Minute after minute, day after day, month after month…”

Hearing her emotional tone, Quinlan paused, breaking his lips’ suckling hold on their pink nipples and looking up at his mothers. He examined their expressions for a few seconds, and what he saw was unadulterated truth in both of their features.

They had wanted to give their baby their milk, but as they said, they assumed he’d decline or, at the very least, find it weird. Perhaps they were right about this assumption back during their first meet, back when he was a bit opportunistic in accepting them as his mothers. He did more so out of feeling a great opportunity than being genuine, but now… All he felt for them was pure affection.

So, he looked at them with a tender smile as he declared, “You both need to be honest with me from now on, okay?” His voice was a gentle rumble, resonating with a sincerity that brokered no argument.

“I love you both dearly, more than words can convey. And any real family, a true family, talks about their problems. They speak their hearts instead of bottling everything up inside.”

“Quinnie…”

“True family…”

At his words, their tears flowed even more freely, fresh rivulets tracing paths down their flushed cheeks. They nodded fervently as a silent, profound promise passed between them. Quinlan then gently pulled each of them down one after the other, placing a tender, loving kiss on their foreheads.

It was a gesture of comfort, love, and renewed understanding. He then murmured, his voice laced with an incredible amount of manly need, “I have some business of paramount importance to attend to now.”

Their earlier indignation melted away, replaced by a mixture of profound relief and tenderness. A soft, shared laughter bubbled up from their chests. It was a sound akin to wind chimes in a gentle breeze, mingling with the last of their tears.

They reached up, their delicate fingers wiping away the moisture from their flushed cheeks, their eyes shining with an unspoken understanding and motherly warmth as they gazed at their beloved son lying beneath them.

Then, with a newfound confidence in the depth of their familial bond, both Luminara and Mearie reached for their ample breasts. With a graceful yet incredibly sinful motion, they guided their engorged nipples back to Quinlan’s waiting lips, a silent offering of love and devotion.

“My baby,” Miri purred, her voice thick with emotion, “your mothers will take care of everything.” Lumi echoed her sentiment, a soft sigh escaping her lips, “Just relax and focus on growing into a big and strong boy who can protect his mothers…”

Quinlan, accepting their loving gesture with a wide, eager mouth, deepened his suckling.

His hands, no longer kneading, settled gently on their backs, his fingers beginning a slow, rhythmic stroke along their spines and across their shoulder blades. The warmth of their bodies enveloped him completely, and as he suckled, a profound sense of peace settled over him.

The divine primordial mommy milk, a miracle liquid flowing from breasts that hadn’t supplied life in millennia, was unlike anything he had ever dared imagine. It wasn’t merely sustenance meant to nurture life; it was a potent elixir, imbued with the ancient magic of their motherhood, the very essence of their primordial existence.

Each drop was a symphony of flavors, a delicate balance of warm honey, sweet cream, and a hint of something ethereal and floral, like blooming night jasmine under a full moon. It was impossibly smooth, gliding down his throat with a richness that coated his tongue and left a lingering, comforting sweetness.

He had always assumed breast milk was a simple, utilitarian liquid, only truly beneficial for infants. But this… this was a revelation. It was a taste of pure, unadulterated bliss, a flavor that spoke of forgotten ages and boundless love. Perhaps his mothers truly were that special, their bodies defying conventional biology to offer such a profound and heavenly sustenance to their son.

As Quinlan continued to suckle, a series of mini shudders rippled through his mothers’ every other second, their bodies subtly convulsing with the intensity of the sensation his extremely eager actions had brought upon their senses.

He noticed it immediately, a new warmth spreading across his thighs, accompanied by a distinct, slimy dampness.

“Mothers,” he mumbled with a grin both women found way too cheeky for his own good, his voice muffled against their pair of breasts, “Why do I feel something warm and slimy on my thighs?”

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