God of Milfs: The Gods Request Me To Make a Milf Harem-Chapter 646: Twisted Punishment

Still, Olivia's concern for Abigaille outweighed her apprehension, and she spoke, her voice careful but firm, mindful of the eerie intensity in his gaze.

"Kafi...W-Why did you spank her?" She asked, her tone measured, searching for understanding. "Why would you do something like that, especially when we were just talking? And...what do you mean by 'punishment'? What's going on?"

Kafka's expression shifted, a casual smile spreading across his face as if the tension were nothing more than a passing breeze.

"Nothing at all, Mom." He said, his tone light and reassuring, though his eyes flicked back to Abigaille with that same gloomy intensity. "Nothing you need to worry about."

His gaze then locked on Abigaille, who stood straighter under its weight, a visible shiver running through her as she met his stare, her earlier defiance replaced by a quiet fear.

"I'm just punishing the bad girl in front of me." He continued, his voice dropping to a low, deliberate cadence. "She did something she shouldn't have, and now she's obediently waiting to learn her lesson."

Olivia's confusion deepened, her brow furrowing as she scooted closer to Kafka, her massive breasts pressing tighter against his chest, the taboo of their position clashing with the surreal scene unfolding.

"What are you talking about, Kafi?" She asked, her voice full of exasperation and disbelief. "Punishment? With her, your mother? And calling her a bad girl? That's...that's not an appropriate term for your own mother!"

Her words were sharp, her maternal instincts recoiling at the idea of Kafka treating Abigaille—his mother, her best friend with such a degrading label.

In response, Kafka's gaze only softened as he turned to Olivia, his eyes kind but tinged with a quiet amusement, as if her confusion were expected.

"It's natural to be confused, Morm." He said, his voice gentle but firm. "You're not used to the ways of this village, so let me explain."

He leaned back slightly, his hand still resting possessively on her ass, grounding her as he spoke.

"Here, mothers and sons aren't just open with each other—they're open with their dynamics as well. Roles shift, interchange. In the outside world, mothers reprimand their sons, punish them when they mess up."

"But in this town, if a mother does something wrong and her son notices, it's perfectly fine for him to punish her. It's natural, helps us grow closer, learn from our mistakes. We point out each other's flaws, correct them through discipline."

"...It's how we build a stronger family."

Olivia's eyes widened, her breath catching at the taboo. nature of such a practice. The idea of a son punishing his mother, reversing the traditional roles, felt like a violation of everything she'd known about family dynamics.

"That's...That's so strange." She said hesitantly, her voice trembling as she tried to process it. "Even if the town has these customs, isn't it better to just...talk things out? Why punish each other like this?"

Kafka's smile was patient, his hand giving her ass a light pat as he shook his head.

"Just like little boys don't learn from scolding alone, sometimes they need a good spanking to get the point—mothers are the same here. Punishment sticks, makes you really learn from your mistakes. Talking's fine, but discipline's better."

His tone was matter-of-fact, as if the logic were self-evident, but Olivia's mind reeled, her heart torn between the warmth of his earlier affection and the unsettling authority he now wielded. Abigaille, meanwhile, stood silently, her head still bowed, her hands no longer rubbing her stinging ass, her obedience a stark contrast to her earlier fire.

Kafka's gaze then returned to Abigaille, his voice sharpening as he continued.

"Right now, Mom said something she shouldn't have." He said, his eyes boring into her, making her flinch slightly. "Something that stirred up trouble, went against our family's unity. So I punished her—spanked her ass to remind her. And since she was bad, it's only natural I call her a bad girl, right?"

His words were full of intent, each one landing like a weight, and Olivia's jaw tightened, her instincts rebelling against the term.

"T-That's not right, Kafi." She said, her voice firm despite the chill of his gaze. "You don't call your mother a 'bad girl, no matter what. It's...unnatural, strange, disrespectful."

Her words were a plea, a defense of Abigaille's dignity, but Kafka's smile only deepened, unshaken.

"Is it?" He asked, his voice soft but challenging as he turned to Abigaille. "Tell her, Mom. Are you a bad girl for what you did, or not?"

His tone was commanding, his eyes locking onto hers, and Abigaille's shoulders trembled, her voice stuttering as she responded.

"Y-Yes, Kafi. It's what you said" She said, her words halting, her face flushed with embarrassment. "I...I'm a bad girl for what I did and there's no doubt about that, since that what you said."

Her admission was reluctant, her eyes darting to the floor, unable to meet Olivia's stunned gaze.

Kafka's grin widened, his hand giving Olivia's ass another pat as he looked at her, triumphant.

"See, Mom? Even she admits it. I will say that she is my mother most of the time...But when she's punished, she's a bad girl, just like I said."

"...That's how it works here."

His words were a challenge, daring Olivia to argue, and she gasped, her eyes wide as she watched Abigaille's submission, the way she accepted the degrading label without protest.

Kafka, ignoring Olivia's inner turmoil, turned his full attention to Abigaille, his gloomy gaze locking onto her with an intensity that made her tense, her body straightening as if bracing for his words.

"You want to know why I spanked you, right Mom?" He asked, his voice low and commanding, his eyes never leaving hers.

Abigaille didn't speak, only nodded obediently, her hands clasped in front of her, her earlier defiance replaced by a meek submission that sent a chill through Olivia.

Kafka's smile was faint, his tone low as he continued,

"Listen up, I spanked you for two reasons, Mom. The second two spanks? Those were because after the first one, you didn't do what you should've—ask why you were spanked, to learn from your mistake."

"...Instead, you protested, acted like I was wrong, like you were wronged. That's something you shouldn't do."

His voice sharpened, his gaze piercing.

"When you're punished, you should know you're the one who messed up. You accept it, ask what you did, and learn...Protesting? That's not how it works. That's why you got two more spanks to teach you what you shouldn't do."

Olivia's jaw dropped, the reasoning baffling her.

It placed Kafka in a position of absolute authority, casting Abigaille as a submissive figure in this strange 'punishment game' stripped of the maternal dignity Olivia had always associated with her.

She expected Abigaille to push back, to assert herself, but to her disbelief, Abigaille simply nodded, her voice soft and meek.

"I...I understand, Kafi." She said, her eyes downcast. "I'm sorry for that...I won't ever protest like I did ever again."

The submission in her tone, the way she accepted his rebuke, stunned Olivia, her mind racing with questions about how often this happened, how deeply these customs ran in their household while she was away.

Kafka's smile widened, a warmth returning to his eyes as he reached out, patting Abigaille's stinging ass gently, a stark contrast to the harsh spanks.

"Good girl." He said, his voice rich with approval. "You're already learning from your mistakes."

Olivia's gaze flicked to Abigaille's face, catching a fleeting smirk, a barely concealed smile that flickered across her lips at being called 'good girl'.

The sight caught Olivia off guard—how could Abigaille, who should be humiliated, angry even, smile at such a term after being spanked and demeaned?

The realization hinted at a deeper submission, a history of punishments that had shaped her response, and Olivia's heart thudded, wondering just how many such moments had unfolded in this house without her.

Kafka's hand lingered on Abigaille's ass, but his expression shifted, a thought occurring to him.

"Before I tell you the first reason I spanked you." He said, his voice taking on a softer, almost playful tone. "I want you to kneel down next to me. I wanna see your beautiful face up close while I talk."

"...I mean, it doesn't feel like a punishment when you're towering over me like that."

His words were a command disguised as a request, and Abigaille, without hesitation, obeyed, sinking to her knees beside him, her face level with his as she leaned closer, her eyes fixed on him like a loyal pet awaiting her master's words.

Olivia's breath caught, the sight of Abigaille's immediate compliance intensifying her unease. freeωebnovēl.c૦m

Kafka's hand then moved to Abigaille's face, caressing her cheek with a tenderness that belied the earlier harshness, his fingers tracing the curve of her jaw before teasing her pink, plump lips in a slow, sensual manner.

The intimacy was staggering, his touch both loving and provocative, and he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a low, intimate murmur.

"Are you angry, Mom?" He asked, his fingers playing with her lips, brushing them in a way that felt far too sexual for the moment. "Do you feel disgraced, being spanked like that in front of Mom, your best friend, by your own son?"

Abigaille's eyes softened, a serene smile spreading across her face, as if Kafka's gaze and touch had tamed her completely.

"No, Kafi." She said, her voice calm, almost dreamy, her earlier confusion and pain forgotten. "I'm not angry or ashamed. I made a mistake, and you're helping me fix it. There's nothing wrong with my son correcting his mother's errors."

"...It's what a good son does."

Her words were laced with a quiet devotion, her body relaxed under his touch, and Kafka's smile deepened, his fingers slipping just inside her lips, playing with them in a more intimate, almost invasive way.

"Good girl..." He murmured again, his voice a velvet caress, and Abigaille's smile widened, her eyes gleaming gratitude and submission. "A mother should never doubt her son when he punishes her. It's always for her own good."

His fingers lingered in her mouth, a provocative gesture that made Olivia's cheeks burn, her body frozen in disbelief as she watched the scene unfold.