Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks Chapter 456: Megan’s Final Plea Ignored

Drake hoisted his charred stumps into the air—the wounds still fresh and weeping despite the cauterization—and projected his voice, which sounded raspy yet intentionally intense.

"Do you all intend to just sit there and await your deaths?" he croaked, his gaze scanning the gathered group.

"Dexter possesses crates of supplies—tinned meat, loaves of bread, fruit that isn't rotting. He has fresh water that requires no boiling. Blankets free of lice. Medical supplies—actual medicine—that could save Paul’s life this very night instead of watching him cough up blood until sunrise."

"Yet here you are... merely sitting? Starving? Freezing? While he lives like royalty, keeping my wife on her knees and enjoying a warm bed every single night?"

A low, restless murmuring rippled throughout the crowd—people turned their heads and exchanged uncertain glances. The children clung to their mothers, while an elderly man named Paul coughed wetly into his sleeve.

Jack pushed forward first, his face set hard and his eyes glowing with the deep-seated fury that had smoldered ever since Mira departed.

"You claim to know his whereabouts," Jack said, his tone low but carrying a lethal edge. "You know precisely where he is. Guide us there. I’m going to retrieve my daughter and ensure that bastard pays for stealing my wife."

Bill moved to stand beside his father, his shoulders squared and his fists balled at his sides.

"We are through waiting around to die," Bill added, his voice trembling with barely suppressed rage. "If he has food, medicine, and a roof that doesn't leak... we are taking it. We’ll take every bit of it."

Drake’s lips curled into a bitter, triumphant grin, regardless of the agony etched into every wrinkle of his face.

"You see?" he gestured toward the onlookers. "Even Jack and Bill grasp the situation. If you doubt my words... search her." He tilted his chin toward Megan. "I don't believe she returned empty-handed. Not after observing how she looked at him. Go ahead—search the officer. See what she is concealing."

Two women, hardened by long months of miserable survival, acted before Megan could protest. Their rough hands seized her arms, pinning them behind her back. Another pair of hands patted down her sides, sliding under her jacket and along her waistband.

Megan struggled, her voice rising in panic.

"Stop! Back off—! I’m not hiding a thing—!"

One woman slipped her hand into the jacket pocket and pulled out the firearm Lisa had returned to her.

"Look, we found a gun!" she hollered, brandishing it like evidence in a courtroom.

The crowd sucked in a collective breath.

Drake’s eyes shone with a triumph that cut through his suffering.

"See there!" he crowed. "She is definitely in league with Dexter! How else could she have acquired a firearm? You understand now? She is his spy—his little pet officer! She likely let him fuck her to earn it. Probably moaned for him just like Camilla did!"

Megan’s face flushed a deep crimson, and tears spilled down her cheeks as she thrashed against those holding her.

"Drake—shut your mouth!" she screamed, her voice cracking with fury and shame.

"That weapon belonged to me! Lisa gave it back when I departed—that’s all there is to it! There is nothing wrong with that! I didn't sell myself! I didn't beg! I stood up to him! I aimed that gun at him to secure supplies for all of us—for the children, for Paul, for everyone! And you... you were the one prepared to rape his women! You threatened his wife! That is precisely why he removed your hands! You are the traitor here—not me!"

Jack moved closer, his expression icy.

"Really, Officer Megan?" he stated, his voice dripping with disdain. "We aren't that foolish. Do you honestly believe anyone would just hand someone back a weapon in this day and age? Either Dexter is the most dim-witted man alive... or you are lying through your teeth. Which is it?"

The crowd murmured—their collective anger rising and their suspicion hardening into something dangerous.

Megan’s voice fractured as tears streamed freely.

"Please... you have to listen to me... I am telling the truth. I betrayed no one. I was attempting to help. I wanted to bring back anything I could to keep us alive. Dexter didn't rape Camilla—she decided to stay. She begged him to spare you, Drake. She—"

Drake let out a harsh, ugly laugh, followed by a cough of blood.

"She begged him, all right," he sneered. "On her knees. With her breasts exposed. With her cunt dripping in front of him. I witnessed it. I watched my wife turn into a whore right before my eyes. And you expect us to believe you didn't do the same? You returned clean. Dressed. Armed. While the rest of us waste away. You are no longer one of us, Megan. You belong to him."

The two women tightened their grip on Megan’s arms.

"Fetch that rope," Jack commanded.

Bill dashed to one of the tents and returned seconds later holding a coil of coarse hemp rope.

Megan’s eyes went wide, and terror flooded her voice.

"No—wait—you are making a mistake! It isn't what you think! Please—just listen—!"

But rough hands were already hauling her toward the nearest tree. They shoved her arms behind her back, the rope biting into her skin as they tied her wrists tightly. She fought against them, tears streaming down her face as her pleas grew desperate.

"You’re making a monumental mistake!" she cried out. "I’m not working for him! I swear on my life! I only wanted to help! I wanted to bring medicine back for Paul and food for the kids—I didn't sell myself! I didn't betray you! Please—have faith in me!"

One of the older women, her face etched with the hardness of hunger and suspicion, leaned in close.

"We had faith in you when you wore that badge," she said bitterly. "We trusted you to keep us safe. Look at how that turned out. We are starving. We are sick. We are dying. And now you show up dressed like you’ve been sleeping in silk while we bury our dead. You aren't one of us anymore."

They finished securing her, binding her wrists and ankles tightly so she was forced upright against the tree trunk.

Megan slumped against the ropes, sobbing openly now.

"I’m sorry..." she whispered. "I am so sorry... I failed all of you... but please... don't do this... don't go after him. He is far stronger than you realize. He will kill you. Every last one of you."

Jack turned to face the crowd, his voice hardening.

"Who is standing with us?" he demanded. "Who is sick of starving? Who is ready to reclaim what rightfully belongs to us?"

Hands went up—slowly, then with more urgency. Voices murmured their agreement.

"We are going," one man declared. "Tonight."

Drake, still seated against a log with his mutilated stumps cradled in his lap, smiled through his agony.

"That’s right," he rasped. "Take it all. Burn his little paradise to the ground. And when you find my wife... bring her back to me. I want to look at her face when she realizes the consequences of her choices."

Megan’s sobs intensified, her head hanging forward as tears dripped onto the rope constricting her chest.

"I'm sorry..." she repeated, whispering to herself, "I'm so sorry..."