God of Milfs: The Gods Request Me To Make a Milf Harem-Chapter 576 : Let’s Play Doctor

Camila, her arms still crossed tightly, hesitated as she looked at Kafka, her usual confidence wavering. Her brows knit together, and she bit her lip before speaking, her voice quieter than usual, tinged with a rare uncertainty.

"Kafka...Are you serious about this?" She asked, her eyes searching his face for any hint of mischief. "This isn't some weird prank you're pulling on us, right? Because if it is, it's not funny—not even a little."

Kafka met her gaze, his expression steady and somber, though inside his mind raced with the truth he couldn't reveal—that this wasn't a joke at all, not when his life hung in the balance thanks to the Gods absurd request.

He shook his head slowly, his voice calm and convincing as he replied saying, "Camila, come on—why would I joke about something like this? There's no need for me to make this up. I'm genuinely telling you the truth here—I wouldn't mess with you all over something so serious."

'Not when the gods are breathing down my neck.' He added silently, the pressure of his secret mission tightening its grip on him.

His words sank in, and the trio's faces fell further, their earlier joy snuffed out like a candle in the wind. The sparkle in their eyes when they'd talked about future children dimmed, replaced by a quiet, shared sorrow.

Abigaille's lip trembled, her hands still pressed to her chest as her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, looking like she might break down any second. Nina's shoulders slumped, her fingers twisting together nervously, while Camila stared at the floor, her usual bravado nowhere to be found.

Seeing them like this—his vibrant, fierce women reduced to shadows of themselves—tugged at Kafka's chest, so he quickly stepped forward without a word, pulling them all into a big, enveloping group hug.

His arms wrapped around them, drawing Camila, Nina, and Abigaille close as he rubbed their backs soothingly, his touch warm and steady. "Hey, hey." He murmured, his voice soft and reassuring. "It's alright, okay? You don't have to worry so much."

"...These days, formula's just as nutritious as breast milk—it's not a big deal. Babies grow up healthy and strong either way. You don't need to let this get you down."

But his words didn't seem to reach them, their murmurs muffled against his chest as they clung to him, their voices overlapping in a quiet chorus of despair.

Camila pressed her forehead against his shoulder, her voice low and strained. "It's not just about nutrition, Kafka." She muttered. "Feeding a baby...It's a mother's duty. How am I supposed to feel like a good mom if I can't even provide something so basic? It's the first thing you do the first bond with your child."

"...What if...What if they don't even feel close to me without it?"

Nina nodded against his side, her fingers gripping his shirt as she whispered.

"She's right. That first connection—it's everything. I've always pictured it, you know? Holding them, feeding them, feeling that love right from the start."

"...If I can't do that...What kind of mother am I? What if they don't even recognize me as their mom later on because of it?"

Abigaille's voice cracked, her face buried in his chest as she fought back tears. "It's supposed to be so natural." She said, her words trembling. "The first bond between a mother and her baby...It's sacred. If I can't give that to my child, I'll feel like I've failed them before they even know me. What if they grow up distant because I couldn't do this one thing?"

Kafka's heart ached at their words, their raw vulnerability cutting through him. He tightened his hold on them, his hand smoothing over his mother's back as he offered her a wry, gentle smile.

"Hey, listen, Mom." He said softly, his voice steady despite the storm inside him. "I wasn't fed milk by you either, you know—I was adopted after all. But does that make me any less your son? Did it ever change how you feel about me?"

Abigaille's head snapped up, her teary eyes wide as she shook her head fiercely.

"Of course not!" She exclaimed, her voice thick with emotion. "You're my son—always have been, always will be. I'm so proud of you, Kafi, every single day." She managed a small, wry smile, her tears glistening as she added, "It's just...It's not fair, you know? We're just women who want kids like anyone else, and now we're facing this...This stupid hurdle."

Camila let out a shaky laugh, her own wry smile mirroring Abigaille's as she leaned into the hug, her voice quieter now. "Yeah, she's got a point. I never really thought about age before—not seriously."

"...I mean, sure, I knew I wasn't twenty anymore, but it didn't hit me until now. Facing an actual problem like this...It makes you feel old in a way I wasn't ready for. Like, what if my body's just...done?"

Nina nodded, her cheek pressed against Kafka's side as she sighed, her voice soft and tinged with sadness. "I keep wondering the same thing. Is it a sin to fall in love later in life? To want a family when you're not some young thing anymore? I thought love was supposed to make everything possible, but now it feels like time's punishing us for waiting. It's...It's a lot to take in."

Kafka rubbed their backs gently, his touch a steady anchor as their words spilled out, their fears laid bare in his arms.

"You're not being punished." He said, his tone firm yet soothing. "And you're not old—you're you, and that's more than enough. Formula or not, you'll be amazing moms—kids don't need milk to know who loves them."

"I mean, look at us—did I ever doubt my Mom was my mom? Never...You'll figure this out, together, like we always do."

Camila sniffled, a faint smirk tugging at her lips as she glanced up at him. "You're too good at this comforting thing, you know that? Almost makes me forget how ridiculous it is that we're crying over our boobs not working right."

Nina let out a small, watery laugh, wiping at her eyes. "Yeah, seriously. One minute we're fighting over whose tits he likes best, and now we're all weepy about lactation. What even is our life?"

Abigaille giggled through her tears, her smile widening as she squeezed Kafka tighter. "It's our life and I wouldn't trade it, even with this. We've got each other, and that's what matters. Right?"

"Right." Kafka agreed, his voice warm as he held them close, his mind racing with how to turn this moment into the solution he needed.

Their vulnerability had opened the door—now he just had to guide them through it, all while keeping his divine predicament under wraps and he knew just how to do so.

The trios minds churned with thoughts of the future—children, motherhood, the uncertainties Kafka's words had stirred within them.

But just as their worries began to deepen, Kafka's voice broke through the stillness, steady and thoughtful, pulling them back from the edge of their spiraling thoughts.

"You know..." He said, his tone light but carrying a hint of reassurance. "We might be overthinking this whole thing. Yeah, those articles said it's pretty common for middle—aged women to have trouble lactating, but it's not like it happens to everyone."

"...There's a good chance it won't even be an issue for any of you."

Their heads snapped up in unison, eyes wide with a flicker of hope as they latched onto his words.

Camila's brow furrowed slightly, her voice tentative but eager. "Wait...Is that true? You're saying we might still be fine?"

Nina nodded quickly, her grip on his shirt tightening as she leaned in, her tone tinged with desperation. "Yeah, really? So it's not a guarantee we're doomed? Do we need to see a doctor to find out for sure?"

Abigaille's teary eyes brightened, her hands clasping together as she added softly. "Oh, could we check somehow? I'd feel so much better knowing one way or the other."

Camila's practical instincts kicked in, her earlier melancholy shifting to determination as she reached for her phone.

"I've got this." She said, her fingers already scrolling through her contacts. "I know a doctor—good friend of mine, super reliable. She'll help us out, no problem. I'll book us an appointment right now—we can get answers fast." She started tapping at the screen, her resolve firm.

But before she could hit the call button, Kafka's hand shot up, his voice cutting in with a quick, firm edge. "Whoa, hold on—you don't need to book a doctor."

Nina's frown deepened, her head tilting as she stared at him, confusion evident in her voice. "What? But we do, Kafka—we need to know what's going to happen! This is our fate we're talking about here!"

Camila paused, her thumb hovering over her phone as she arched an eyebrow. "Yeah, what's with the sudden stop? You just said it's not certain—don't we need someone qualified to tell us if we're in the clear or not?"

Kafka let out a long, exaggerated sigh, rubbing the back of his neck as if wrestling with how to phrase his next words, as there was no he was getting an actual doctor involved who'd immediately rat out the lies he was telling.

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So instead, his expression softened, a mix of reluctance and something unspoken flickering in his eyes. "What I'm trying to say..." He began, his voice steady but carrying a hint of awkwardness. "...is that you don't need a doctor because I—"

"...I can check if you can lactate myself."

The statement landed like a bombshell, and the trio froze, their eyes widening in perfect sync as they stared at him in utter disbelief.

The room went deathly quiet, the weight of his words hanging in the air. Camila's phone slipped slightly in her grip, Nina's mouth fell open, and Abigaille's cheeks flushed a deep crimson as they struggled to process what he'd just dropped on them.

"What?!" Camila finally burst out, her voice a mix of shock and incredulity as she leaned forward, her eyes narrowing. "What the hell do you mean, Kafka? You can check that? How?!"

Nina shook her head, her hands planting on her hips as she gaped at him like he'd lost his mind. "Yeah, seriously —what are you even talking about? You're not some medical expert! Explain yourself—right now!"

Abigaille's voice was quieter, trembling with confusion as she clutched her hands to her chest. "Kafi, please...What do you mean by that? How could you possibly do something like that? We need to understand!"

Kafka took a deep breath, his gaze shifting between their stunned faces as he launched into his carefully crafted explanation, his tone earnest and measured.

"Okay, okay, just hear me out." He said, raising his hands in a calming gesture. "I know it sounds wild, but it's not as crazy as you think. You were all so excited talking about the future—kids, family, everything—and I am too. I've been really looking forward to being a father someday. But I figured, before I can be a good dad, I've got to be a good husband first—to the women carrying my kids."

"...So I did my research. I studied a lot about how to take care of a woman during and after pregnancy—everything I could get my hands on."

Their expressions softened, a flicker of warmth cutting through their shock as they absorbed his words.

Camila's lips twitched into a faint, surprised smile, her skepticism easing as she murmured. "You...studied? For us? That's...kind of adorable, actually."

Nina's eyes softened too, a small laugh escaping her as she tilted her head. "Wait, really? That's so sweet—what kind of stuff did you learn? Tell us!"

Abigaille's flush faded into a tender smile, her voice gentle and touched. "Oh, Kafi...You did all that for us? That's so thoughtful—I had no idea you were thinking so far ahead."

Kafka nodded, encouraged by their reactions as he pressed on, his voice growing more confident.

"Yeah, I learned a ton—about nutrition during pregnancy, how to help with recovery after birth, dealing with swelling, all that good stuff. I even read up on how to spot early signs of complications and what to do about them."

"...But there's one thing in particular I came across that's relevant here..."

"...I learned how to stimulate lactation in a women's body."

The revelation hit them like a second shockwave, their eyes widening again as they froze, caught off guard once more.

Nina's jaw dropped, her hands falling from her hips as she stammered. "Hold on—you're saying you can just...do something to us and check if we can produce milk? That's what you meant?!"

Camila's smile faltered, her voice dropping to a stunned whisper. "You learned how to make us lactate? Like, what—by yourself?"

Abigaille's hands flew to her cheeks, her voice a flustered squeak. "Oh my goodness, Kafi—that's what you were talking about? You can really do that?"

Kafka nodded, his expression a mix of sheepishness and resolve as he watched their reactions unfold.

"Yeah, exactly." He said, his tone steady despite the faint flush creeping up his neck because of the shameless lies he was spilling. "It's not as strange as it sounds—well, maybe a little but it's legit."

"Some women have blocks during lactation, or they struggle to produce enough milk for their baby. So there's this massaging technique to help with that—it stimulates the glands in the breasts, gets the milk flowing more freely if there's an issue."

"...And as you would've guessed by now I've learned how to do it, step by step, so I could help if it ever came up. And I figured...If I could check that for you now, we'd know right away if there's anything to worry about. No doctors, no waiting—just us sorting it out together."

The trio exchanged glances, their initial shock giving way to a slow, dawning realization.

Camila's lips quirked into a hesitant smirk, her voice tinged with both amusement and intrigue. "So...You're telling me you want to play doctor with us? That's your big solution?"

Nina let out a nervous laugh, her eyes darting between him and the others. "I mean...It's insane, but if you actually know how to do it...I guess it kind of makes sense?"

Abigaille's hands dropped to her lap, her smile shy but genuine as she murmured. "It's...unusual, but if it's for our future—and you learned it for us—I trust you, Kafka. I really do."

Kafka stood there, the trio's trust in him visible as they absorbed his explanation, their expressions a mix of curiosity and acceptance. He shifted his weight, a faint hesitation creeping into his demeanor as he glanced between them, his voice softening.

"So...are you all okay with me checking you out? I mean, I don't want to push anything if you're not comfortable."

Their responses came almost instantly, overlapping in a chorus of reassurance.

Camila tilted her head, a warm smile breaking through her earlier unease. "Of course I'm okay with it." She said, her tone steady and sincere. "Why wouldn't I be? You're probably the person I trust most in this world. There's no one else I'd rather have doing this."

"Yeah, Kafi...Who else can I trust but my own son?" Abigaille also naturally agreed.

Nina nodded eagerly, her earlier shock giving way to a bright, determined glint in her eyes. "Yeah, same here! You're our Kafka there's no one we'd trust more. Just tell us what we need to do to help—I'm all in!"

Seeing their enthusiasm, a smile tugged at Kafka's lips, though he quickly masked it, ducking his head to hide the flicker of satisfaction that everything was unfolding exactly as he'd planned.

'Perfect' He thought, his mind racing with the next steps of his divine gambit to milk three beatiful older women before him.