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

Kafka's voice was quiet, but it made every one of their hearts stop.

"Now..." He said, each word measured. "Can anyone tell me...what exactly you all are doing here?"

It was as if a single breath passed through the group and instantly—

...every head, every head, turned toward June in perfect unison.

June blinked, caught off guard, her lips parting.

"W-What?...Why are you guess looking at me?!"

One of the younger girls made a tiny, desperate noise.

Another, standing behind her, gestured subtly in June's direction as if to say, "You explain, Ma'am. You started this.'

The betrayal hit instantly and June's mouth slackened.

Oh, unbelievable...Yes, she had been the first to come here, but now, with all eyes drilling into her, it was obvious they were ready to throw her under the bus without hesitation.

Kafka also followed their gaze and slowly turned his head toward her. His dark eyes fixed on her, unreadable, though she caught that flicker, the dangerous one, she'd seen before, the one that surfaced only rarely.

And seeing his gaze, her fingers tightened on her crutch. The heat creeping into her cheeks had nothing to do with what she'd heard earlier.

"Well?" His tone left no escape.

"I..." She swallowed hard before deciding to make some excuse along with the truth. "W-Well, Kafka, it's just...I saw how angry you were when you chased after Olivia, and I thought…" She hesitated, fumbling. "…I thought maybe a fight was going to break out. I didn't want anything bad to happen, so I stayed close by. Just to make sure."

The words tumbled out in a rush and immediately several employees nodded quickly, chiming in with mumbled agreements.

"Yes, that's right!"

"We were worried too."

"Only here to make sure everything was fine."

"...Oh? Really?"

The corner of Kafka's mouth curved into something that wasn't quite a smile. He glanced from one woman to the next, then back to June.

"If you were that close by, you should've known within minutes that we weren't fighting and that...something else was going on in there."

The hallway air seemed to shrink.

"That..." He continued smoothly. "...should've been your cue to leave. Or, if you had the slightest sense of propriety, to knock and tell us to cut it out. Because..." He tilted his head slightly. "...it would be...inappropriate to keep listening, wouldn't it?"

The blushes deepened across every face in the hallway. No one met his gaze.

Then, almost like a herd seeking protection, their eyes all slid back to June again.

June's lips twitched.

"Oh, I cannot believe you all."

She muttered before fumbling out,

"That, th-that's because..." She cut herself off, grimaced, then pushed out. "Because we thought you were...being rough with her."

Kafka blinked once. "Rough?"

"Abusive." June corrected herself hastily, waving her free hand in agitation. "We thought you were hitting her. You were making...so many noises in there...we thought you were fighting."

Again, the chorus of nods. "Yes, that's right."

"We were worried."

"You don't look someone who would hit a women. But the world is a scary place, so wanted to make sure."

"That's right!"

Hearing this, Kafka's smirk curved wider.

"Is that so? Then tell me…" His voice was all mock curiosity now. "…what woman in the world moans and whimpers like that when she's being hit?"

He let the question hang, eyes glittering.

"Not even a masochist would make those sweet little sounds Olivia was making. And yet your ears..." He tapped one finger to his temple "...apparently decided those were the cries of someone being beaten?"

The flush in their faces spread down necks.

"That's...not—" June started, then stopped, lips pressing thin.

"Go on." He said.

Her shoulders slumped. She knew she was cornered and she decided to accept defeat, as she knew there was no winning against him.

"Alright. Fine." She exhaled sharply, eyes dropping. "What I said before was...not the full truth. At first, yes, I wanted to make sure you two weren't fighting. I would've stepped in if it came to that."

Kafka's gaze didn't move from her.

"…But."

She continued reluctantly.

"Then I heard...those noises. And I was going to leave, honestly I was. And to tell you truth if it were anyone else in my store doing something like that, I'd have thrown them out on the spot."

Her eyes flicked up to him, softer now.

"But it was you, Kafka. And since you...you've helped me so much in my life and because I...I care about you like...like family, I didn't do anything."

That made his brow twitch, not in displeasure, more in mild surprise as he they were only really close friends and he didn't expect her to think of him as is "family", while being completely dense towards the timid but courageous look she had in her eyes as she made that comment.

June then pressed on, her voice quieter now.

"So, because of that I didn't want to...ruin your moment. I was about to leave, but...what I was hearing…" She shook her head slowly. "It was...intoxicating and I couldn't move. I just...stayed."

Her eyes slid toward her employees.

"And then they came over, curious. And...well, you can see where that went."

Kafka turned his head toward the ladies. "That true?"

They nodded rapidly. One spoke up, the same girl he'd once complimented on her smooth skin.

"Yes, that's the absolute truth! It was just...the sounds were...so naughty. So intense! I've been with my husband for years, but I've never...never made noises like Miss Olivia was making." Her voice dropped almost to a whisper. "I just wanted to know what you were doing to her to make her sound like that."

Another girl took a deep breath and blurted.

"I thought I'd heard everything before, I watch...things, online, but it's never sounded that real. That genuine. It made me feel...hot all over."

"I thought you were devouring her alive." Another admitted, eyes wide. "There was so much sucking, so much licking. I couldn't imagine what it looked like."

One by one, they all gave their own versions, curiosity, shock, being drawn in by the sheer heat of what they were hearing.

Finally, Kafka's eyes returned to June. "And you?"

June shifted her weight on her crutch, visibly flustered.

"Yes..." She said at last. "Same for me. I've never heard anything that extreme before. I-I wanted to know what you were doing in there...so I stayed."

June's admission hung in the air for a long, heavy beat. Then, as though some unspoken signal passed through them all, she and the rest of the employees lowered their heads in unison.

Not one of them dared meet Kafka's eyes now.

It wasn't just embarrassment, it was an almost ceremonial acceptance of their guilt, like schoolchildren caught doing something they all knew they shouldn't have.

June, especially, looked hollowed out by it.

This wasn't her. She was not a woman who lurked around doors, eavesdropping on other people's business.

If anything, she prided herself on knowing proper boundaries better than anyone in the room. She had spent years cultivating that respect in herself, her staff and customers.

But...this was Kafka.

That thought alone explained everything.

She could have tried to fight back here, could have reminded him that he was the one being inappropriate in her store, that he was the one disrespecting the space by doing something so...physical in the trial room.

She could have pointed out that she'd had every right to step in, and that his behavior had been just as questionable as theirs, if not more so.

But she didn't. She couldn't.

Because this was Kafka.

Kafka, who had stepped into her life at a time she hadn't even realized she needed help.

Kafka, who had gone out of his way for her more times than she could count.

Kafka, who had changed her life for the better to the extent that she was thinking of him as someone more the a simple friend and something more, even though she knew she knew she shouldn't as it was absolutely useless.

So she bowed her head just like the others, silently surrendering to whatever he decided to do with them.

If he wanted to scold, she'd take it. If he wanted to tease, she'd endure it.

It was humiliating, yes, but in her mind, letting him have his way here was better than fracturing what they had.

Kafka, for his part, swept his gaze slowly across the row of downturned heads. His expression was unreadable, partly amused, partly confused, as though he himself couldn't quite believe the scene in front of him.

He had not expected this. Not June, especially. She was usually the picture of restraint, the one least likely to slip into gossip or peeking. Yet here she was, caught with her ear to the curtain like everyone else.

For a moment, he genuinely didn't know what to do with this awkward tableau. He could have simply ordered them all back to work. Could have made them squirm with some cutting remark and left it at that.

But then...an idea slid, sly and sharp, into his mind.

His lips twitched.

Moments ago, he had planned to let Olivia come out after she changed, wearing that indecent little piece he'd handed her, and maybe flash a bit of skin to make her blush and stammer in front of a few people.

That had been the plan, a small, private joke, a teasing jab at her pride.

But now...oh, now, the game had changed.

The audience had come to him.

And not just any audience, an eager one.

They had pressed themselves up to the door for the chance to hear what was going on inside. They had stayed, even when every second must have felt like they were risking getting caught.

They had admitted, one by one, how curious they were, how hot the sounds had made them.

If that wasn't a request for a show, he didn't know what was.

Why waste an opportunity like this?

Instead of a brief little tease, he could give them something far, far more. Something worth all the listening they'd done.

Something that would scorch itself into their memories until they couldn't look at Olivia, or him, without remembering exactly what they'd seen.

He could make this a performance.

A full one.

The kind of thing even the gods above, if they were peering down right now, would stop everything they were doing to watch.

The smile that curved across his mouth then was slow and sultry...and when the women in front of him saw it, a visible shiver went down the line.

They didn't know what it meant, not exactly, but instinct told them it wasn't good for them.

Even though he was younger than most of them, there was something in that smile, in the way he stood there without raising his voice, that made their spines straighten and their breaths catch.

It was the kind of presence that said: you will do what I tell you, and you won't even think to refuse.

But June...June knew that smile.

This wasn't the look of a man about to hand out scoldings. This wasn't even the look of someone savoring catching people in the act.

This was the look of someone who'd just had an idea. A very bad idea.

She swallowed once, hard.

And yet, deep under the apprehension, there was a flicker, small but undeniable, of something else. A certain curiosity.

A certain...craving to see what exactly Kafka thought would be "appropriate" after catching them red-handed...