Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks Chapter 460: Angela’s Bombshell Revelation

Angela spotted me first—bare as the day, reclining against the stone wall, one knee hitched up, fingertips lazily teasing her clit. She bolted upright—gaze turning razor-sharp.

"What happened?" she questioned—tone steady yet laced with raw craving.

I revealed it all to them.

All of it.

The sudden attack at the camp. Those three men attempting to violate Megan. The kids shrieking in terror. Hailey protecting her fiercely. Megan slamming her head into the tree trunk. The mothers pleading desperately. That young boy wondering why the uncles were spilling blood.

And the way I slaughtered every one of them.

Not a single survivor.

Mothers included. Fathers too. Even the children. None spared.

Nicole's complexion drained pale—eyes bulging in sheer horror.

"You... slaughtered them all?" she breathed—voice breaking apart. "Even... even the children...?"

I met her stare—steady, without a flinch.

"I don’t care," I murmured softly. "Anyone who threatens those dear to me... their life means nothing to me. And now you understand the fate awaiting your so-called father and that brother. I’ll flay them alive."

Nicole recoiled sharply—new tears brimming over.

Camilla—still on her knees amid Drake’s crusted blood, bare-chested, her enormous tits smeared crimson—glanced up at me, eyes wide with dread.

"And... my husband?" she murmured. "Drake... you plan to...?"

I gave a single nod.

"Drake faces the identical end. He defied me despite my prior mercy. He assaulted my home. My women. My kin. His death will drag out painfully."

Lisa advanced—her voice even, businesslike.

"Boss... handle this yourself? No need," she stated. "Your teams stand ready. Helicopters. Sharpshooters. Cleanup crews. Just say the word—we deliver their heads on platters."

Angela stood—utterly nude, her hips rolling seductively as she approached, wrapping her arms around my waist from the rear, her warm breasts molding to my back.

"That’s right, husband..." she murmured huskily, her lips grazing my ear. "Your troops await orders. Why soil your own hands? Make them spill blood for you. Let their screams entertain you. Recline... savor the spectacle."

I breathed out—long and slow—tension easing from my frame.

I nodded—faint smile curving my mouth.

"Fine... fine... I’ll follow your advice."

Lisa sprang into action—extracting a compact, matte-black gadget from her pocket. It resembled a premium wireless earbud—streamlined, tactical spec.

She slipped it into her ear—tapped it firmly.

"Hello... Lisa here," she announced—voice sharp, efficient. "Coordinates transmitted. Backup requested. Urgent evac and sanitation. Complete squad—helicopters, heavy arms, medics. Top priority. Time to arrival?"

A response buzzed through—cool, precise.

"Squad inbound. Twenty minutes out. Perimeter locked down, targets captured live... or diced up. Your preference, ma’am."

Lisa glanced my way—poised for direction.

I nodded sharply.

"Alive," I commanded. "I want them witnessing each other’s agonizing ends."

Lisa passed on the instruction—then plucked out the earpiece.

Mira, Nicole, and Camilla gaped—jaws slack.

"What... what’s happening here?" Mira breathed—voice quivering. "Helicopters? Reinforcements? Squads?"

Nicole’s eyes widened enormously—voice tiny.

"You... command an army...?"

Camilla—kneeling topless still, her bare tits marked with flaky blood—gazed up at me as if beholding a stranger.

Angela laughed softly—deep, velvety, entertained—taking in their shocked faces.

"Oh, sweethearts..." she cooed, striding toward them with hypnotic hip sways. "We haven’t spilled all the secrets yet, huh?"

She bent gracefully, lifting Nicole’s chin with delicate fingers.

Angela laughed softly—deep, velvety, entertained—observing the dazed, innocent looks on Mira, Nicole, and Camilla’s faces. She glided closer with that languid, hunter’s roll of her hips, stark naked, her skin still rosy and radiant from recent fun, ample breasts bouncing lightly per stride. The amber glow from the lamp traced golden contours over her form, accentuating the subtle bites and palm prints etched on her thighs and rear.

"Oh, sweethearts..." she cooed, tone like molten honey over shattered crystal. She halted before them, dipping low with poise to raise Nicole’s chin via two polished fingertips till the girl’s terrified, saucer eyes locked onto hers.

"We actually came to you here," Angela drawled deliberately, each syllable dropping like pebbles into calm depths. "We’re from the future."

The cave appeared to contract around them. The gentle drip of water into the pool boomed thunderously in the hush.

Nicole’s mouth gaped—snapped shut—gaped once more. Her delicate fingers gripped Mira’s arm till knuckles blanched.

"How... how can this be?" she whispered, tone quaking near sobs. "Time travel? Real time travel? That’s... just films... tales..."

Mira fixed on Angela—then shifted to me—eyes probing my features for deceit, ruse, some camera gag. She discovered zilch. Lips separated, but silence held initially. At last, words emerged faint, nearly worshipful.

"It’s... impossible to believe..." she sighed. Yet doubt had faded from her voice. Her look dwelled on me longest—tender, torn, nearly reverent. Her face whispered volumes unspoken. She exhaled softly, shoulders slumping into weary surrender.

Camilla—kneeling bare-breasted in Drake’s congealing blood pool, her huge Mexican breasts slashed red and rising with ragged breaths—appeared utterly unmoored. Full lips fell open in astonishment, dark nipples peaking sharply in the chill as reality hit.

Angela rose tall, grinning like a feline who’d devoured the bird and its enclosure.

"The world we fled was crumbling," she went on, delivery relaxed, offhand, as if chatting daily weather from another age. "Pollution choking skies to brown. Battles for final pure water drops. Climate doom—deluges, blazes, starvations. Billions perished."

"The Exodus Project marked mankind’s final, frantic shot—a method to hurl folks ahead in time to a pristine age, a fresh start. Tech wasn’t flawless. Initial leaps were wild. Some hit years premature. Others centuries astray. We touched down here—2050s era—discovered these caves, fortified them, erected a stronghold. And Dexter..."

She pivoted to face me, encircling my waist from behind, nestling her nude breasts to my back, chin on my shoulder as she regarded the trio with bold, claiming affection.

"Dexter rules it all," she concluded gently. "The supplies. The forces. The future. He’s why we draw breath. Why we feast. Why we rut, chuckle, thrive as the world outside withers and perishes."