In the end, he pounded her ruthlessly and finished with a "raw creampie."
Actually, several of them.
Every available path was filled to the brim. With three "caves" opened up, the widow was tossed and turned by Al, who was somewhat high on lust and in desperate need of regaining his confidence today.
Eventually, even the New Madam came over and joined the fray, taking over for the exhausted widow to endure the boy's impact and the ecstasy it brought.
Finally, to put it in a more refined way commonly used in the past:
Both reached a state of "Grand Biological Harmony!"
Al slept with a madam in each arm, and no one disturbed them until they woke in the evening.
He rose, and the goat maids brought hot water to help him wash, before going to assist the madams.
Al changed his clothes and ran barefoot all the way to the front hall.
After slacking off for half the day, he remembered he still had actual business to do.
Al felt he truly shouldn't be like this—sex during the day,
and only remembering work when the sun goes down... how could he!
In the future: rest at night! Do work the next morning!
He briefly processed some government affairs. In the absence of war, there wasn't actually that much to do.
Given the tribe's current rudimentary administrative structure, they had only managed to advance from a "Tribal Dictatorship" to a "Tribal Theocratic Autocracy"—a tiny level-one government reform.
As for legal codes and regulations, there were no specialized talents among the Beastmen.
However, there were many officials and even some scholars among the Estalian refugees who were usable.
But these "Middle Class" and "Intellectuals" often held firm loyalties to the Kingdom and Myrmidia, and weren't particularly reliable.
Al could only observe those who were more wavering and easily won over, slowly aiming for their sincere submission.
So for the laws, Al adopted an extremely minimalist approach:
Whip for thieves, death for murderers, and for those who rape women... castration! Plus hard labor as a slave!
It was simple and crude, but Al had a safety net: cases involving death had to be sent to the main tribal camp to pass before him (Misha) for a final ruling.
In short, the final right of interpretation belonged to whoever had the biggest fist.
There were other cases, like: someone nearly starved and stole food, or a man's wife was about to be violated and he accidentally killed the thief in a rage.
How to handle these gave Al a headache.
But to ensure "the law does not ignore human sentiment" and for "excusable" circumstances, he left these cases that couldn't be solved by a few simple rules to himself (and Misha, Kael'thas, and other scions) to decide.
They were then collected into volumes to serve as precedents for future reference.
Al intended to wait until he officially began contesting territory—leaving the forest and establishing the tribe within human cities—before conducting a major reform, including the construction of legal codes and regulations.
Until then—a Military Theocratic Tribal Monarchy it is.
With over two hundred thousand people who were mostly rootless refugees having lost their homes,
as long as Al's fist remained the biggest and strongest, he could manage them well enough.
He could ensure tasks were assigned and his decrees reached every settlement.
He spent a few days doing nothing much.
Misha's Triumph Ceremony was nearly ready. The tribe was decorated (not really), and both soldiers and civilians were in high spirits, eager for this grand post-war festival.
Al sat in the high seat, with the black-haired New Madam kneeling at his knees, pressing against his thighs, her hands cupping his member as she worked her mouth.
Al flipped through today's agenda.
"Another pile of cases..."
Al looked through the documents. After the great victory, the morale of the soldiers and civilians had surged, and their spirits had recovered (especially the Estalians).
When spirits are high after being suppressed for too long, things tend to go wrong upon release.
There were seven or eight murder cases involving a dozen people.
The most bizarre one:
A veteran hunter, during the previous period of scarcity and difficulty, had ambushed and killed his camp's supply officer, hijacked a batch of grain, and kidnapped three women to run away. Two of the women had husbands.
He fled toward the southeast. The camp organized a militia to pursue but was ambushed, resulting in three dead and two crippled.
Because the hunter moved too fast and the camp was too remote, the wolf-packs and Beastmen couldn't reinforce in time, so the matter was dropped.
Who would have thought that a unit chasing Greenskin routing troops toward the east would encounter a strange human hunter in a forest to the southeast?
Curious, they brought him back by force, and upon searching him, they actually found two human women.
After interrogation, they learned he was a major thief who had killed an official, kidnapped women, and stolen supplies.
Under questioning, the reason was revealed: the hunter had lost all confidence in the Kingdom's survival after a string of humiliating national defeats.
Upon entering the forest, he was deeply disappointed by the life there due to the scarcity of resources.
He believed that if everyone stayed there starving, they would die anyway when the Greenskins arrived, so he might as well find another way out.
So, he killed the official, stole the grain, and used a mix of bribes and threats to get three women to follow him and his luggage toward the east, near the Inara Mountains.
The hunter had been a mercenary and had once taken a contract to explore the mountains, so he knew the terrain.
He intended to find a safe, hidden spot to settle down, hoping to avoid the war.
His luck was actually good; four people—one hunter with three burdens—had made it that far. Only one woman died from a snake bite.
The hunter found a large, withered oak tree, climbed inside, and hollowed out the trunk.
He lived there as if in a house, leading a Wood Elf life (not really).
Eventually, he was caught by the tribal forces hunting Greenskins. Upon learning the situation, he even muttered that he should have held out a bit longer.
Al practically read this as a novel. The documents presented by the Sagegor even featured several rough sketches.
It set Al's mind wandering, imagining the fall of the world and the end of days, where he would take several big sisters, big sisters, and big sisters to hide in the deep mountains.
What would it feel like to live a life of "one day, one sun," or "one sun, one day," or "several suns in one day," or the Adamite "return to nature" lifestyle (a Christian sect famous for nudity)?
It was fortunate there were still many things to do, otherwise Al truly intended to find an opportunity to take the madams and find a good spot with mountains, water, and woods, away from outsiders, to experience a primal, polygamous tribal life in nature.
But thinking of the smiling cow-girl...
The voice saying "You can't rest yet, Father..." seemed to echo in his ear.
Al could only grit his teeth, stroking the Second Madam's head while his spear nudged forward slightly, as he continued his work for the day.