Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks Chapter 261: A Bloodied Castration

Behind me, Angela remained paralyzed by terror, shielding her mouth with her hand as if trying to suppress her own cries. The bodyguards had become a pathetic assembly of whimpering wrecks, their arrogance completely crushed and their spirits broken.

Convulsing as he slammed his face against the marble floor, Tyler’s voice cracked in desperation. "I’ll serve you! I’ll be your dog! Just don’t kill me!"

I stared down at his pathetic form with an unreadable expression. "Oh, Tyler," I whispered, my tone saturated with mock pity. "I have no intention of killing you."

Tyler’s breathing was shattered into ragged gasps. He kept his forehead pressed to the freezing stone, his entire frame vibrating like a leaf caught in a gale.

A dark, spreading puddle of urine began to soak through his pants. As his bladder failed him in the face of pure, relentless dread, the sharp stench of ammonia filled the room. His fingernails snapped and broke against the floor as he clawed at the stone, desperately trying to burrow away from his fate.

Leaning down, I let my voice drop to a poisonous whisper. "I’m going to make you wish you were dead."

With a smooth, practiced motion, I triggered the Magical Tool fastened to my wrist. A mechanical hiss echoed as the device shifted, its segments realigning and unfolding while the air vibrated with sudden power.

As the barrel extended, it began to pulse with a sinister crimson glow, and the weapon's core emitted a heavy, threatening hum. In mere moments, it had evolved into a sleek, high-tech laser rifle, its exterior carved with glowing runes that throbbed like a heartbeat.

The bodyguards recoiled, the color draining from their skin as they gazed at the weapon. One of them let out a faint whimper, his hands shaking uncontrollably.

"I am willing to offer you a choice," I declared, my voice slicing through the quiet like a razor. "Castrate him. Perform the deed now, and I will permit you to live."

Tyler’s head jerked up, his eyes bulging with pure horror. "N-NO!" he screamed, his voice breaking into a shriek. "PLEASE! MERCY! I’LL GIVE YOU EVERYTHING! MY MONEY! MY POWER! JUST DON’T—!" His pleas collapsed into a strangled sob as he clutched at his crotch, trying to shield himself from the inevitable.

The bodyguards wavered, their eyes darting nervously between the rifle and their employer. A large man with a scar on his cheek swallowed hard. "W-we can’t—"

I cut him off before he could finish.

With a simple flick of my wrist, I leveled the laser rifle and squeezed the trigger.

A blinding flash of red energy surged from the barrel, hitting the scarred bodyguard directly in the chest. His entire body was vaporized in an instant, his flesh turning into a cloud of black soot that drifted across the floor. His empty clothes slumped to the ground, edges still smoking.

The remaining three men shrieked in terror, stumbling backward. One fell to his knees, pressing his hands together as if in prayer. "I’LL DO IT!" he yelled, his voice cracking. "JUST DON’T KILL ME!"

Tyler’s screams reached a frantic new volume as the bodyguards suddenly lunged at him. He thrashed wildly, but two of them pinned his arms to the floor. "NO! NO! PLEASE! I’LL DO ANYTHING! ANYTHING!" His throat was raw, tearing under the strain of his begging.

The third guard, hands trembling violently, fumbled with his belt and pulled out a serrated combat knife. The blade caught the dim light with a sharp glint. Tyler’s eyes rolled back as a bloodcurdling scream escaped him, "DON’T! PLEASE, GOD, NO—!"

The blade ripped through the fabric of Tyler’s trousers.

An inhuman, high-pitched shriek erupted from Tyler’s throat the moment the steel bit into his skin. His back arched in a bow of pure agony while the guard sawed through the sensitive flesh. Dark, slick blood sprayed onto the marble, forming a pool beneath him as his screams filled every corner of the room.

"IT’S DONE!" the bodyguard gasped, his face as pale as a corpse and his hands drenched in red.

Tyler’s frame went limp, his loud cries fading into weak, broken whimpers. His face was a mask of sheer shock, covered in a film of sweat and tears.

I didn't spare him a glance.

Instead, I turned toward Angela and pulled her into my embrace. "Don’t look," I said softly.

Angela offered no resistance. She hid her face against my chest, her body shaking with violent tremors as Tyler’s animalistic moans echoed like the final gasps of a slaughtered beast. Her fingers gripped my shirt tightly, her breathing coming in sharp, jagged bursts. The room was thick with the suffocating smell of blood, urine, and the metallic scent of terror.

The surviving bodyguards stood like statues, their faces ghost-white and their hands trembling as if they had witnessed the apocalypse. One man wept openly, his chest heaving with muffled sobs. The other two remained motionless, their wide eyes failing to process the horror they had participated in.

"It is over," I announced, my voice a dark, definitive vow.

I shifted my gaze to the men, my tone brookng no dissent. "Clean this mess up. Then get him to a hospital." A cold smirk touched my lips. "Don’t let him die too quickly."

The two strongest guards swallowed hard, their throats moving nervously. Moving like machines, they reached down to grab Tyler’s bloody, unconscious body. His pants were drenched in crimson, and as they dragged him toward the exit, his feet left a smeared trail of gore across the marble. The third guard—the one who held the knife—remained on his knees, his weapon clattering to the floor as he stared at his shaking hands.

"And you," I said, cutting through his hysteria. "Clean. Every. Single. Drop."

He nodded wildly, frantically grabbing a towel with jerky, panicked movements.

I turned my attention back to Angela.

She was still shivering, her eyes hollow and her face stained with tears. I led her into the room, my grip on her arm firm yet careful. She walked like a spirit, her steps uneven, her mind clearly traumatized by the scene.

I helped her down onto the sofa, her body sinking into the cushions as if she had lost all strength. I poured a glass of water and handed it to her. Her fingers shook so much she could barely hold it. She took a slow sip, her gaze fixed on nothing, her thoughts lost in the distance.

Crouching down before her, I spoke softly. "Angela."

At first, there was no reply. Her eyes were locked on an invisible point, her breath still coming in shallow hitches.

"Angela," I said again, my voice more commanding.

Her eyes finally met mine, filled with a mixture of dread, awe, and a darker emotion that resembled fear of me.

I reached out, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "You’re safe now."

She didn’t move away, but she remained silent.

From outside, the roar of a car engine signaled the bodyguards driving Tyler away, his life now defined by blood and pain. Inside, the last bodyguard remained on his hands and knees, scrubbing at the bloodstains with ragged, desperate breaths.