Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks-Chapter 462: The Trap is Set

I reactivated the world map, the holographic overlay blooming in my vision like a private galaxy of red stars. Drake, Jack, Bill, and their ragtag ambush crew were barely two minutes out, their dots pulsing through the dense forest grid.

They moved in a loose, sloppy formation, rustling through the thick pines, their footsteps heavy, their breathing loud. They thought they were being stealthy. They weren’t.

But two other markers seized my attention—burning brighter, moving faster.

Megan and Hailey.

Their dots were sprinting straight toward the cave, cutting a direct line through the underbrush, their pace frantic, desperate. They weren’t with the men. They were ahead of them, separate, running like their lives depended on it.

I didn’t retreat inside the cave.

Instead, I stayed at the mouth, the cool night air brushing against my skin. Angela pressed warm and naked against my left side, her body still flushed from earlier, her breasts soft against my arm, her nipples hard from the night’s games.

Camilla stood to my right, topless, her massive Mexican tits streaked with dried blood, her fat ass still marked red from the lash, her thighs slick and trembling. Lisa stood just in front of me, a human shield, her fingers resting on the grip of her holstered pistol.

Behind us, Mira and Nicole waited in the shadows, the girl clinging to her mother’s side like she was afraid the world might swallow her whole.

Firelight flickered between the trees—lanterns, torches—Jack’s group finally breaking through the underbrush. But they didn’t charge out. They stopped, thirty meters away, huddled in the shadows of the pines like frightened dogs. Their breath came in ragged bursts, their eyes darting, their grips tightening on their weapons.

Then one figure stepped forward alone.

Bill.

Mira’s breath hitched—"Bill..."

Nicole echoed the name, her voice small, uncertain, cracking—"Bill..."

Bill raised both hands, empty, his face streaked with dirt, fake tears already glistening in his eyes. His voice trembled with practiced grief.

"Mom... Nicole..." he called, his tone perfectly calibrated for maximum sympathy. "I finally found you... I thought I’d lost you forever..."

Lisa moved instantly, stepping fully in front of me, her body shielding mine, her hand resting on her pistol. The message was clear: One wrong move, and you’re dead.

Bill froze mid-step, his eyes widening at the sight of armed protection.

Mira took an instinctive step forward, then stopped herself, remembering every word I’d told her. Her jaw clenched. Nicole gripped her mother’s arm tighter, her knuckles white, anger flickering behind her fear.

Lisa’s voice cut through the night—cold, flat, professional.

"How did you find this place? Tell me right now. The truth. Or don’t blame me for what happens next."

Bill swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing, his eyes darting between us. Then he launched into the story his father had drilled into him.

"It... it was Officer Megan," he stammered, his voice shaking just right. "She told me about this location. I begged her... I just wanted to see my mom... my sister... I didn’t mean any harm... please... I swear..."

Angela tilted her head, her lips curling into a predator’s smile.

"Okay... okay..." she purred, her voice dripping with false sympathy. "Let’s go inside and talk. You must be tired, poor thing. Hungry too, I bet."

She winked at me—quick, subtle—her meaning clear: Play along. I’ve got something in mind.

I nodded once, calm, trusting.

"Okay," I said. "Let’s go in."

Mira and Nicole exchanged glances, both furious at Bill’s obvious acting, both knowing exactly what he was trying to do: scout the cave, signal the ambush, lead Jack’s men straight to our supplies. But they stayed silent—mothers and sisters torn between blood and betrayal.

We walked back inside.

Bill followed, his eyes darting everywhere the moment he crossed the threshold. The neatly made beds with thick wool blankets.

The steady, bright lamp was glowing without flicker or battery whine. His gaze lingered, hungry, calculating.

He turned to Mira, his voice pitiful, rehearsed.

"Mom... do you have anything to eat?" he asked, rubbing his stomach theatrically. "I haven’t eaten in days... I’m so hungry... please... I’m begging you..."

Camilla, still kneeling near the back wall, topless and streaked with dried blood, watched him with a mocking curl to her lip. She didn’t say anything, but the contempt in her dark eyes was thick enough to choke on.

Angela stepped forward, her voice dripping with false sympathy.

"Ohhh... so, Bill," she said sweetly, "I have to say—your acting skills are amazing. If my husband hadn’t already warned us, we might never have spotted a single flaw."

Bill’s face went pale, panic flashing raw and ugly across his features.

"What... what are you talking about?" he stammered, backing up half a step. "I don’t understand... I just wanted to see Mom and Nicole... I swear..."

Angela laughed—low, cruel, stepping closer until she was almost in his face.

"Bill... do you really think we don’t know?" she asked softly. "That Drake, your bastard father, and the rest of your little ambush squad are outside right now—waiting for your signal to rush in and take everything? You thought you could just walk in here, play the poor lost son, and lead them straight to our supplies?"

Bill’s eyes widened, his mouth opening and closing like a fish on dry land.

"How... how did you—?"

Lisa stepped closer, her hand on her pistol, her voice soft and deadly.

"Tell me," she said, "how do you want to die?"

Bill stumbled back, his voice cracking into full panic.

"NO—no—it was all Drake’s idea! He forced me! I didn’t want to—I swear! I just... I just wanted to see Mom and Nicole! Please—don’t hurt me—please—!"

Nicole stepped forward, small and furious, her voice shaking with betrayal.

"Didn’t you promise me?" she asked, tears welling in her eyes. "You said you wouldn’t hurt them. You promised."

I chuckled, low and amused.

"I did say that," I agreed. "But remember—I said I would never harm them myself. I didn’t say anything about Lisa... or Angela... or my soldiers."

Nicole’s face crumpled, tears spilling fresh down her cheeks.

"How can this be?" she whispered. "Mom... stop him... please..."

Mira stepped forward, her face pale but resolute. She placed herself between her daughter and me, then turned to me, her eyes pleading.

"Husband..." she whispered, her voice trembling. "Spare his life... please..."

She pressed my arm between her soft breasts, squeezing them tightly around my forearm in a silent offering, her body warm and trembling against mine.

"Please..." she breathed again. "He’s my son... he’s still just a boy..."

I looked down at her, then at Nicole, then at Bill’s panicked, sweating face.

I sighed, soft and almost theatrical.

"Okay... okay," I said. "I was just kidding."