Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks Chapter 457: Jack’s Cold Plan to Reclaim Mira

Drake held his charred, weeping stumps aloft, allowing the dying embers of the fire to bathe his blackened wounds in a haunting orange glow. His voice, raspy yet venomous, cut through the camp like a poisonous gale.

"Join us!" he bellowed. "Scavenge every log you find—wrap them in rags, soak them in the final drops of our oil, and set them ablaze! We'll use these as torches for a nighttime strike. We’ll descent upon that bastard Dexter when he least expects it!"

A primal murmur rippled through the survivors. Men scrambled for branches, tearing strips from their tattered, filthy clothes and dipping them into the last remnants of lamp oil.

Torches ignited one by one, casting grotesque, flickering light upon their gaunt, desperate countenances. Children clung to their mothers; Paul coughed weakly into his sleeve, his eyes reflecting a mixture of terror and flickering hope. An older man, thin and bearded, raised his torch high, his throat raw from weeks of bitterness.

"Finally!" he shouted. "I am done witnessing my daughter cry herself to sleep from hunger! If Dexter possesses food, we shall claim it—every last morsel!"

A woman, her cheeks sunken and lips cracked, nodded with fierce intent. "And the medicine! My baby has been burning with fever for three days. If he has pills, I’ll burn that cave to the ground to secure them!"

Drake smirked through his torment, his gaze burning with lust and vengeance. "Exactly. He sits on crates of canned meat, fresh bread, and fruit. Clean water, untainted by germs. Blankets free of lice. Medicine that could save Paul tonight. And the women..." His voice descended into a lecherous register.

"Angela, with that lush figure. Lisa, with her lithe frame that will shriek when we take her. And Mira—that treacherous bitch who was once Jack’s wife—she will be on her knees, though this time for all of us. We shall take turns. Breed them until they forget Dexter’s name. Are you with me?"

A feral, hungry growl erupted from the men. A broad-shouldered man licked his parched lips. "I’m taking Lisa first. I’ll make her choke on my cock while you all watch. Then Angela. I intend to fuck those heavy breasts until she weeps."

Another man let out a cruel laugh. "Mira’s backside looked soft even before she defected. I’ll stretch that hole wide. Let her beg with her daughter as a witness."

Jack stepped forward, his expression hardened by cold, calculated malice. Beneath his facade of the betrayed husband lay a father’s desperate, avaricious hunger.

"Listen up!" Jack commanded. "A few of you stay behind to keep guard over Megan. Ensure she stays leashed to that tree until we return. The rest of us—ten capable men—will march with Drake and me. No women or children join this trek. No exceptions."

He turned to his son, Bill, whose young face had been hardened by months of starvation and hatred. "Bill," Jack said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone, "you are coming with me. Your mother, Mira, still carries a fondness for you. She will never suspect her own flesh and blood. You will approach, playing the part of the lost son missing his mommy. Weep if you must. She will grant you entry to the cave without hesitation. Once you locate the supplies—the crates, the medicine, the food—give us the signal. We will handle the rest."

Bill nodded slowly, his eyes glinting with a dark, predatory intelligence. "I will do it, Dad," he whispered. "I’ll earn her trust. I’ll embrace her and tell her I was mistaken about everything. She will let me inside. And once I find that hoard... I’ll ensure she pays for deserting us, for choosing him."

Drake grinned, a vicious expression despite the waves of agony contorting his features. "Attaboy. And fret not about the ladies. Angela and Lisa are waiting, two well-fucked sluts who have been servicing that bastard for weeks. After we kill him, we take our turns. You can all have a piece. Angela’s breasts are massive—perfect for our pleasure. Lisa has that tight physique that will scream during the defilement. We will line up and breed them into submission. Does that sound ideal, boys?"

The men roared in concurrence, their lust and hunger merging into a singular, savage intent.

Megan yanked violently against her restraints, tears streaming down her face as her voice cracked with desperate fury. "Stop! You are all deranged! This is not justice—it is suicide! Dexter is far more powerful than you can fathom. He arrived with a jetpack! He severed Drake’s hands without a drop of sweat! If you challenge him, he will slaughter you all. Consider your children! Think of their fate if you perish tonight!"

A woman guarding the ropes spat at Megan’s feet. "Easy for you to say, draped in fine clothes while my babe starves. You likely already prostituted yourself for him. Why should we heed your warnings?"

Megan’s voice fractured into sobs. "I am trying to spare your lives! I witnessed his power! He cauterized Drake’s stumps with a burning blade as if it were a trifle! He possess genuine medicine and untainted sustenance! If you permit me to negotiate, I can secure more for everyone without the bloodshed! Without this certain death!"

Jack scoffed coldly. "Negotiate? The same way Camilla did? On her knees, baring herself? No thank you, Officer. We are done beseeching. Tonight, we take."

Megan’s tears flowed faster, her throat raw from desperate pleading. "Please... Jack... Bill... consider Mira! She is your wife and mother! If you lay siege to that cave, she will be trapped in the crossfire! She will die for the sake of your pride! Do not do this. Do not transform your son into an executioner!"

Bill glared at his mother’s former companion, his eyes devoid of warmth. "She chose him. Now, she will pay the price. Just as you will, should you persist."

Megan slumped against the ropes, weeping openly. "You are all committing a fatal error," she whimpered. "He will exterminate the lot of you. And your children will starve anyway, for there will be none left to provide for them."

But the men were deaf to her pleas. Their torches were raised high, burning defiantly against the nocturnal shadows. Jack rested a hand on Bill’s shoulder, a mix of paternal pride and frigid strategy in his gaze. "Bring your mother back to us, son. Show her where her true loyalties belong."

Bill nodded, his expression set in stone. "I will, Dad."

The band of ten armed men, torches held high, began their march into the darkness toward the cave, their hearts fueled by greed, lust, and the fire of retribution.