Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks

Chapter 493: “Aaaah... Dexter!” – Helena’s Anal Yelp

Helena’s scream tore out of her throat like she was being murdered. "Aaaaaaaaah—! No! Dexter—!"

I casually slid my hand down and gave her plump, juicy ass a firm, loud slap—loud enough to echo.

"Stop screaming," I said, voice perfectly calm and almost bored. "Nothing happened. See? Not even a scratch."

Peter stumbled backward until his back slammed hard against the wall. The gun in his trembling hands shook so violently it looked like it might slip from his sweaty grip and clatter to the floor at any moment. His eyes were wide with pure, unfiltered madness, pupils dilated in terror as reality crumbled around him.

"No... What the fuck are you...?" he gasped, voice hoarse and breaking. "This isn’t real... It can’t be real... I shot you point-blank in the head and chest! The bullets... they just flattened like tin cans! What the hell are you?! Some kind of fucking monster?!"

He took one more shaky step back, his heel catching on the edge of the rug. With a startled yelp, his legs gave out, and he crashed heavily onto the floor, sliding backward until he was pressed pathetically against the base of the wall like a cornered rat.

I smiled calmly, the expression cold yet amused. I turned my head slightly toward Helena, who was still trembling in my arms, her soft body pressed tightly against mine.

"Helena..." I said, my voice low, smooth, and dangerously gentle, "Do you really want to stay with him? A pathetic, cowardly piece of shit who can kill you anytime he feels threatened? Or... do you want to become mine? Completely. Protected. Owned. Cherished in ways he could never imagine."

Helena’s breath hitched sharply. She looked over at Peter — the man who had threatened to ruin her life, the man who had recorded her frantically cleaning my blood, the man who had used fear and blackmail to control her every breath. Then she looked back at me, eyes searching my face, seeing the raw power that no bullet could touch.

After a long, trembling pause, her voice came out small and shaky at first, then grew firmer with desperate resolve.

"I... I don’t want to live like this anymore. He scares me every day. I’ll follow you. I’ll be yours... if you’ll have me."

"You fucking treacherous bitch!" Peter screamed from the floor, his face twisting with rage, pain, and betrayal. "After everything I risked for you?! You’re just going to spread your legs for this freak again?! You worthless whore! I should have killed you, too!"

I chuckled darkly, the sound low and dangerous, and walked over to Peter without any hurry. He tried to crawl away, dragging his broken legs, but I simply lifted my foot and brought it down with crushing force on both of his shins. The sickening crack of bones snapping echoed through the room.

"AAAAAAAH—! NO! FUCK! MY LEGS! IT HURTS— AAAAAAH! STOP! PLEASE, STOP—AAAAAAAAH!"

Peter’s agonized screams tore through the apartment as he writhed on the floor, tears of pain streaming down his contorted face.

I reached into my system storage with a thought and pulled out the Magical Tool. With a mental command, it shimmered and rapidly expanded into a cruel, cold-steel human trap — intricate metal bands and restraints designed for complete immobilization.

I threw it casually at Peter. The device flew through the air like a living thing and latched onto his body with mechanical precision.

Steel cuffs snapped shut around his wrists, ankles, neck, and torso, brutally forcing him into a humiliating kneeling position. His arms were wrenched painfully behind his back, his legs bent at unnatural angles beneath him, and even his head was locked straight forward, unable to turn. The only part of his body he could still move was his mouth.

Peter’s screams turned into furious, muffled grunts as the trap tightened mercilessly, leaving him completely helpless and exposed.

I turned back to Helena, who was staring at the horrific scene with wide, disbelieving eyes, her mouth slightly open in shock, one hand covering her lips.

"What are you so surprised about?" I asked, raising an eyebrow with mild amusement.

Helena swallowed hard, still struggling to process the impossible events unfolding before her. "This... this is like real magic... How did you do that? One second you were dead on the floor, the next you’re bulletproof, and now this... What exactly are you, Dexter?"

I chuckled softly and stepped closer to her again, my presence dominating the room. "Why don’t we finish what was so rudely interrupted?"

My hand slid slowly down her back, over the curve of her hips, and boldly cupped her plump, round ass, squeezing it possessively through her skirt. "You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to claim this again, Helena."

She blinked in confusion, cheeks already flushing with embarrassment. "What... what was interrupted?"

Instead of answering with words, I slipped my hand under the hem of her skirt, hooked my fingers into the waistband of her thin panties, and slowly pulled the fabric aside.

My middle finger traced teasing circles around her tight, puckered asshole, feeling it twitch under my touch.

Then, with deliberate slowness, I pressed the tip of my finger against the resistant ring and pushed inside — inch by inch — stretching her warm, silky interior while my palm rested firmly on her ass cheek.

"Did you forget so soon?" I murmured hotly against her ear.

Helena let out a surprised, embarrassed yelp mixed with a shy moan — "Aaaah...! D-Dexter...!" — her face turning bright red as her body instinctively clenched around my invading finger. She squirmed in my arms, clearly mortified that this was happening right in front of her immobilized husband.

Peter, forced to watch every second from his trapped kneeling position, snarled through gritted teeth, his voice hoarse and filled with impotent fury.

"Motherfucker...! You sick bastard! Get your filthy hands off my wife! Aaaah... I’ll kill you! I swear I’ll rip your fucking throat out! Helena, you slut—don’t you dare moan for him! Stop it right now!"

I ignored Peter completely, slowly pumping my finger deeper into Helena’s tight asshole, curling it slightly to make her gasp and whimper again. "Keep yelling, Peter. The only thing you’re going to do tonight is watch your wife become my personal anal slut... all over again."