Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks Chapter 650: Eleanor’s Evil Plan

Eleanor scoffed, her lips curling into a smirk, her eyes gleaming with amusement and challenge. "Hmph... we’ll see..." she murmured, her voice laced with doubt and mischief. The unspoken tension between her and Madeline was palpable, a game of cat and mouse where neither woman was willing to blink first.

Madeline turned to Carter and me, her expression shifting to one of command, her voice sharp and authoritative. "Leave us some space..." she said, her fingers waving dismissively.

"Other things are not what you guys can hear..." Her tone was final, leaving no room for argument. The message was clear—we were dismissed.

I nodded once, my posture straight, my expression neutral. Carter glanced at Eleanor, waiting for her instruction. Eleanor smiled, her voice smooth, commanding. "Carter, take our guest Dexter to the guest room... Have something to eat..." she said, her eyes flickering to me, assessing, teasing.

Carter nodded, her voice respectful. "Yes, ma’am..." she replied, her gaze shifting to me, gesturing for me to follow her.

We walked in silence through the hallway, the sound of our footsteps echoing against the marble floor.

The mansion was grand, opulent, every detail screaming of wealth and power. Carter led me to a side room, a cozy space furnished with elegant chairs and a small dining table. She gestured for me to sit, her voice low, practical. "Wait here..." she said, her eyes flickering to the door as she called for the maids.

I took the opportunity to study her. Carter was different from the others—quieter, more reserved, but there was a sharpness in her eyes, a loyalty that ran deep. She was Eleanor’s person, through and through.

I leaned back in my chair, my voice casual, curious. "So how long have you been working... I mean, as a bodyguard...?"

Carter paused, her eyes flickering to me, assessing. Then, she sighed, her voice soft, reflective. "It’s been 10 years already..." she said, her fingers tracing the edge of the table, her touch light, thoughtful. She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a whisper, serious.

"You’re still young... You’ll get used to it..." Her eyes locked onto mine, her expression earnest, warning. "I’ll just give you a piece of advice..." She paused, her voice firm, unshakable. "Keep an open mind... And never act without orders..." Her tone was final, leaving no room for misinterpretation. "Otherwise, you will suffer..."

I nodded, my expression grateful, respectful. "Thank you..." I said, my voice sincere. Carter’s advice was simple, but it carried the weight of experience—and the stakes of this world.

Soon, the maids entered, carrying trays of food—rich, aromatic, clearly prepared with care. The scent of spices and herbs filled the air, mingling with the tension that still lingered from the conversation outside.

Carter gestured for me to help myself, her voice soft, polite, but her eyes kept flickering to the door, as if expecting an interruption—or perhaps anticipating one. "Eat... You’ll need your strength..." she said, her tone almost warning, as if she knew something I didn’t.

I picked up my fork, my mind still racing with the game unfolding around me. The food looked innocent enough—rich, aromatic, tempting. I took a few bites, the flavors bursting on my tongue, savory and spiced. But then—something was wrong.

A heat spread through my body, slow at first, then intense, burning like wildfire.

My cock twitched, then hardened, throbbing painfully against my pants. My skin felt flushed, my breath coming in shallow gasps, my vision blurring at the edges.

I glanced at Carter—she was only taking small bites of the cake, her fork barely touching the main dishes. That was the tell. She knew.

That means she must have known about this... And she couldn’t do it herself... That means only Eleanor can be the one behind this...

I could have used Eternal Vitality to heal myself instantly—purging the aphrodisiac from my system in a flash. But I didn’t. I wanted to see what they were really up to. What was the endgame here? Blackmail? A test? Pleasure?

I started sweating hard, my shirt clinging to my skin, my heart pounding in my chest like a drum. I grabbed the water glass, chugging it down, but the heat only intensified, spreading through my veins like liquid fire.

My cock was rock hard now, aching, demanding attention, straining against the fabric of my pants like it was begging to be freed.

I suddenly looked at Carter, my voice ragged, accusatory. "You... you drugged the food..." I gasped, my fingers gripping the edge of the table, my knuckles white.

Carter didn’t flinch. She met my gaze, her expression unreadable, but her voice was calm, almost amused. "Quite vigilant..." she murmured, her lips curling into a small smirk. "Don’t worry... It’s not poison..." She paused, her eyes flickering to the door, then back to me. "I’m just following orders..."

And then—the door creaked open.

Eleanor and Madeline stood there, their expressions a mix of amusement and anticipation. Eleanor was holding a camera, its lens pointed directly at me, recording every second of my struggle.

Madeline’s eyes were locked onto me, her lips curled into a wicked smirk, savoring the sight of me sweating, aching, helpless.

Madeline looked at Eleanor, her voice laced with dark amusement. "So this is the surprise we were planning..." she murmured, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "You are really evil..." She paused, her voice dropping to a whisper, teasing. "Feeding aphrodisiac to him... Are you going to torture him...?"

Eleanor smiled, her voice smooth, calculating. "Aren’t I doing this for your own good...?" she murmured, her eyes flickering to me, assessing, teasing.

"Weren’t you afraid your daughter-in-law would put a cuckold on your son... with Dexter...? She leaned in, her voice a whisper, mocking. "Then let me disgust her... So she won’t think about Dexter..."

Madeline’s expression shifted, her voice cold, curious. "So what do you plan to do...?"

Eleanor smiled, her hands clapping together once, sharp and commanding. Then, the door opened again, and she walked in.

The woman was stunning—a vision of erotic temptation, a living fantasy of curves and desire. She was around 50 years old, but her body was timeless, sculpted by years of indulgence and care, defying the passage of time. Her tits were huge, full, spilling out of the black lingerie that clung to her like a second skin, the fabric barely containing their weight.

Her nipples, hard and aching, pressed against the lace like diamonds against velvet, begging for attention. Her ass was round, firm, swaying with every step she took, the black lingerie hugging it tightly, showcasing every inch of its glorious shape, as if it were begging to be grabbed, squeezed, claimed.

The mask she wore was black, erotic, hiding her identity but adding to her mystique. Her blonde hair cascaded down her back in waves, glistening under the light like liquid gold, framing her like a halo of sin.