Скачать или смотреть He time-travels back to the Stone Age and becomes a slave, but every woman wants to have his babies!

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✅Novel Title: He was captured and made a male slave, forced to have sex with women every day.
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Disclaimer: In a dimly lit cave, dew dripped from a crack in the ceiling,

soaking a man's scabbed wound. Each slight movement caused excruciating, tearing pain.

Suddenly, a guard burst through the cave door, brandishing a leather whip and lashing it mercilessly across the man's calf.

Blood instantly soaked the man's tattered trousers. He groaned, his eyes numb.

The man's name was A-Yang. Due to an accident, he had traveled back three thousand years to the ancient era. He had hoped to use his modern knowledge to make a name for himself in this primitive world.

However, upon arrival, he was captured by a primitive tribe and reduced to a lowly slave. In this era, slaves were less than food.

Just as A-Yang sank into despair, streaks of crimson light suddenly appeared around his body. These streaks slowly traveled along his skin, eventually tracing a serpentine pattern.

At the same time, a mysterious voice echoed in his mind: "The Serpent God's bloodline has been activated - greatly enhancing physical attributes."

Watching this incredible transformation unfold before him, A-Yang's despair gradually subsided.

He gazed at the cave that imprisoned him, a plan quietly brewing in his mind—since he couldn't return to his original world, he would rise rapidly in this primordial world!

On the open ground before the altar, a group of women dressed in dark red robes were already lined up neatly.

The copper bells on their ankles jingled softly with each step, the sound delicate and sharp, like the prelude to some mysterious ritual.

Standing at the forefront was a woman with a cold and aloof air. She stood on three stone steps, the beast bone necklace hanging around her neck gleaming eerily in the firelight, each bone fragment engraved with strange and complex symbols.

When her icy gaze swept over A-Yang, he clearly saw dark red marks still clinging to her fingernails.

"Bring him here," she said, pointing lightly with her bone staff. Four women immediately surrounded him. Their hands, calloused and rough yet surprisingly gentle, touched him.

A-Yang's wrists were tightly bound with hemp rope soaked in tung oil. The wound from yesterday, still unhealed, stung faintly from the friction of the rope.

The women helped him towards the wooden hut beside the altar. The sound of their animal-hide boots crunching over gravel was exceptionally clear in the silence.

In the center of the hut stood a rough wooden bed, sharp bronze rings nailed to its four corners, stained with mottled blood. The women gently laid A-Yang down, the hemp rope making a soft rubbing sound as it passed through the bronze rings.

The scarred woman, the leader, knelt beside the bed. Her gaze lingered on his unhealed wound on his chest for a moment, then she whispered, "Don't be afraid, just bear with it."

She dipped her fingertips in herbal juice and gently applied it to the wound on his waist. The cool touch slightly eased the pain.

She chanted ancient incantations softly as she adjusted the pressure in her hands, causing the wooden bed to creak occasionally. A-Yang's head rested on the soft animal-skin pillow, his tense nerves gradually relaxing.

The other women came forward one by one. Some gently wiped the bloodstains from his body with warm, damp cloths, their movements as gentle as a mother soothing a child;

Others applied fragrant herbs to his wounded body, a cool and comforting sensation quickly spreading; still others softly hummed ancient songs, their melodies low and soothing.
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