Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks Chapter 452: Megan Begging For Clothes

When we finished our meal, the flat stone used as a table was cluttered with a mess of empty pizza cartons, discarded fry wrappers, and half-finished soda bottles dripping with condensation in the lingering afternoon heat.

Nicole rested against Mira, her belly finally full for the first time in an eternity, her face glowing from the chilled drink and the unfamiliar comfort of warmth and security.

Angela reclined on her elbows, remaining completely unclothed. She propped one leg up in a lazy posture, slowly and deliberately licking cheese remnants from her fingers.

Lisa sat beside her with legs crossed, grabbing the final slice of pizza and smirking whenever she saw Megan sneaking hungry looks at the food.

Megan stayed a bit further away, still wrapping her shoulders tightly in a blanket like a defensive barrier. Beneath it, her shredded police uniform hung in tatters, revealing a black lace bra and exposing her panties where the crotch had been torn apart earlier.

Even the slightest movement caused the blanket to slip, offering brief glimpses of her skin, so she repeatedly pulled it shut with shaking hands.

I caught her gazing at me, her eyes dark and conflicted as they darted between my face and the cavern floor.

"Something wrong?" I asked, propping myself up on one hand with a casual but sharp tone. "Are you contemplating a surrender...?"

Megan whipped her head away so abruptly that the blanket shifted again, briefly showing the top of one breast before she scrambled to cover herself.

"No..." she replied hurriedly, her voice strained. "I would never act as your slave... Not ever..."

I shook my head slowly, looking somewhat amused.

"Fair enough," I replied. "Just don’t forget that statement."

Then I turned toward Camilla, who remained kneeling near the cave entrance where I had left her. Her dress was pulled back on haphazardly, though it was stained with blood and her own fluids. Her large breasts strained against the ruined fabric, and her plump Mexican rear still bore red marks.

"Camilla," I said in a calm, authoritative voice. "Time to check on your husband."

Camilla’s head snapped up; her eyes were rimmed with red, and fresh tears clung to her lashes. She gave a single, small, dutiful nod and rose unsteadily to her feet. Her thick thighs brushed together, and her panties were still visibly sodden.

Together, we walked toward the rear of the cave where Drake lay. He was still unconscious, his stumps cauterized and crusted over, yet his breathing was steady thanks to the medicine and pain relief. A faint scent of scorched flesh hung in the air, masked by the metallic smell of blood.

Megan followed, clutching her blanket, but she froze in her tracks upon seeing him.

Her eyes went wide, genuine shock breaking through her exhaustion.

"How... how did you manage to save him?" she whispered, her voice cracking. "It’s almost... supernatural... He lost so much blood. He should have died, or at least been in critical shock. How is he still living...?"

I let out a low, dark chuckle, crossing my arms as I leaned against the stone wall.

"Why should I reveal that to you?" I questioned, tilting my head. "You pointed a weapon at me and threatened my family. What makes you think you deserve answers?"

Megan clenched her jaw, her face a mask of conflicting guilt and frustration.

"You..." she started, then cut herself off, gulping hard. "Fine. Keep your secrets then."

I looked at her, then down at the blanket she gripped like a lifeline.

"You had better head back," I told her quietly. "I have no room for freeloaders here."

Megan’s eyes widened, panic flaring within them.

"I cannot return like this..." she whispered with a tremulous voice.

I taunted her, a slow, mocking smile playing on my lips.

"And you expect me to hand over clothes?" I challenged. "Dream on."

I straightened up, my expression turning serious.

"Make sure to keep that blanket tight before you step out," I warned. "I wouldn’t want your whole camp seeing what a desperate thief looks like with her chest and crotch on display."

Megan blushed deeply, her hands gripping the blanket tighter as her alarm mounted.

"How... how am I supposed to leave like this...?" she whispered, her voice faltering. "I’m practically nude... they’ll see everything..."

Mira stepped forward, sliding her arm into mine and pressing her soft, warm form against my side. Her full breasts cushioned my arm, and the thin fabric of her shirt could not hide how stiff her nipples had become from the mounting tension. She leaned toward my ear, exhaling hot, shaky breaths.

I whispered back, loud enough for only her to hear, "So you want me to provide her with clothing... fine. But I want my wife’s rear end tonight... nice and deep, the way you like it when you’re attempting to be silent."

Mira blushed instantly, a deep crimson hue washing over her cheeks and neck. She couldn’t refrain from glancing at Nicole, who was watching her mother act so submissive toward me, clinging to my arm. Nicole’s eyes were wide, filled with a mix of confusion and disapproval.

Mira coughed awkwardly and whispered back, her voice shaking with a combination of shame and reluctant arousal:

"Once Nicole is asleep... I will assist my husband... I’ll be quiet... I promise... just... please give her the clothes..."

I gave a slow, satisfied nod. "Very well... It’s a deal." We kept the exchange hushed, hidden from everyone else.

I turned my attention back to Megan, who stood shivering from cold and humiliation. Her voice was thin when she finally spoke.

"I... I really am sorry," she murmured, unable to look me in the eye. "This never should have happened. I was just... scared. For the children. For Paul. I thought... if I could just secure some supplies..."

I silenced her with a firm gesture.

"Enough," I said. "I will provide clothes. But be warned—if you reveal where this place is to anyone back at your camp... I will kill you. Slowly. And I’ll make sure you watch your precious camp burn to the ground first."

Tears welled up in Megan’s eyes. She gave a quick, sharp nod.

"I won’t... I swear it on my life... I only want to go back and help the others. I never meant to cause anyone here harm..."

I stepped away for a moment, disappearing behind some nearby trees to access my system storage. I pulled out a simple, practical outfit: dark denim jeans, a modest grey long-sleeved shirt, and a black jacket. Nothing flashy or revealing.

I returned and dropped them at her feet.

"Here," I said. "Now get out."

Megan glanced outside; the sky had shifted to a deep purple, and the first stars were appearing. Darkness was closing in rapidly. She had no desire to linger—to face more degradation—but she also dared not walk back to camp half-naked.

She gave a resigned sigh, her voice strained.

"Could... you step out for a moment...? I... need to change..." she whispered as tears streaked her face. "Please... I can’t... I can’t do this in front of everyone... I already feel so... dirty... so ashamed..."

I gave a low, mocking laugh.

"You really are something else, Officer Megan... telling me to leave my own property."

I fixed her with a dark, mocking stare.

"If you want to change, do it. Otherwise, I assume you don’t actually require those clothes..."