Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks Chapter 286: Coming Back To Kronos Tribe

Angela pulled away just far enough to look into my eyes, her gaze blazing with a fresh, eternal, and unstoppable fire—a fire that belonged to me. Without uttering a word, she slid from my lap, her demeanor transforming from breathless wonder into cold, authoritative power.

She smoothed her attire, her fingers lingering on her lips as if tasting the final remnants of our embrace before she headed toward the exit.

The heavy oak door groaned as she stepped through, her voice slicing the night air like a blade. "Max!" she summoned, her tone sharp and uncompromising. The sound of boots grinding against stone resonated through the corridor before Max appeared, his posture stiff and his expression fully alert.

"Assemble every soldier, male and female, inside the fortress," Angela commanded, her voice brookng no delay. "Do it now. Establish a perimeter around the walls. No one enters or leaves without my direct authorization." Her hand tightened into a fist at her side, her knuckles turning white. "Then, rouse everyone within these walls. I want the entire population gathered outside within the hour."

Max’s brow twitched for a fleeting moment before he gave a curt nod, his voice a low, rough acknowledgment. "Yes, ma’am." He spun on his heel and began barking orders into his communication device as he walked away, his heavy boots thumping against the marble floor.

The fortress erupted into a state of controlled chaos—shouts, protests, and the scraping of boots against stone filled the air as soldiers hauled dazed men and women from their sleep. Tension hummed through the atmosphere, crackling like the static before a lightning strike.

Angela stood by my side, a smirk as sharp as a razor on her face, her new immortality pulsing beneath her skin like a rhythmic second heartbeat.

She observed the turmoil with chilling satisfaction, her fingers trailing along the edge of the console where the screens still flickered with the recorded evidence of Emily and Jennifer’s humiliating submission.

I turned toward her, my voice cutting through the surrounding clamor with quiet, absolute authority. "Handle Emily and Jennifer," I instructed, locking my gaze onto hers. "They belong to us now. Ensure they fully grasp that reality."

A dark, knowing grin spread across Angela’s lips. "With pleasure," she purred, her tone saturated with sadistic anticipation. No clarification was needed. She understood perfectly. They were to be shattered, remodeled, and tethered to us in ways they couldn't yet fathom.

I then shifted my attention to Max, who was busy directing a squad of soldiers with efficient, unreadable movements. "Max," I called out, my voice rising above the noise. He reacted instantly, snapping to attention with sharp eyes. "I require ten trucks. And I want ten female soldiers to pilot them."

Max didn't blink. "Consider it done," he stated, already turning to relay the command to a nearby lieutenant. Within minutes, the courtyard roared to life as ten black trucks moved into formation, their headlights piercing the predawn gloom. The female soldiers—disciplined and hard-eyed—took their places behind the wheels as if they were engineered for obedience.

I watched as the last of the men were driven past the perimeter, their shouts of protest fading into the dark. Inside the fortress, the women were already being lined up; their terror was palpable, yet their submission was absolute. The soldiers understood. Everyone understood.

The reins of power were now firmly in the hands of Angela and me.

I approached Max, speaking in a low voice that carried the heavy weight of a command. "In my absence," I said, my stare unwavering, "you are to assist Angela in managing everything."

Max met my gaze without flinching. "Understood," he answered, his voice devoid of hesitation. There was no doubt or questioning in his tone—only the cold certainty of a man who recognized his role in the new world we were forging.

With a single nod, I turned toward the vehicles, my boots crunching on the gravel. The horizon was beginning to bleed the first light of dawn, staining the fortress in shades of gold and crimson. The engines thrummed, ready for departure. The female drivers sat in rigid attention, awaiting my signal.

I boarded the lead truck, the door shutting with a finality that sounded like a gunshot. The convoy would follow my lead. The women would be retrieved. And upon my return, the Overlord Empire would be absolute.

Angela’s voice reached me one last time, sounding like a dark oath. "We’ll be waiting."

The line of trucks thundered through the thick forest, their beams of light cutting through the early morning fog like scalpels. The air smelled of wet earth and the approaching day. Accessing the World Map in my mind, I traced the route to the Kronos Tribe—the place where Ravina and the rest were waiting. I spoke into the earpiece, my voice sharp and clear through the static.

"Ravina."

Her voice crackled back, heavy with sleep yet laced with sudden alarm. "Dexter? What is happening? Is everything okay?"

"Gather the entire tribe," I commanded, leaving no room for debate. "We are coming to bring you home. To a superior place."

There was a brief silence. Then, she spoke with hesitant obedience. "What about the ones living above the cliff? Should they be woken as well?"

I smirked, my grip tightening on the wheel as the dawn light began to stretch across the sky. "I will bring them down myself once I arrive. Just ensure everyone else is prepared."

"Ok..." she whispered, her confidence in me absolute. She never questioned my word.

The first rays of dawn were breaking as the trucks entered the clearing where the Kronos Tribe resided. The women—naked and marked by their primitive existence—froze as the massive machines thundered toward them. Their eyes stretched wide with horror, and a chorus of panicked screams erupted.

"Monster! MONSTER—!" they shrieked. Some brandished spears while others recoiled, convinced the trucks were predatory beasts sent to kill them.

Even Ravina and her inner circle stumbled back, clutching one another with pale, shocked faces. They had never witnessed such things—beasts of steel, growling and invading their ancestral lands. Kerry, Kina, Ruth, Ada, and Vera huddled together, their bare bodies shivering from both the morning cold and the sheer impossibility of the sight.

Then, the door of the primary truck creaked open.

And I stepped out.

The clearing fell silent.

The women gasped, their terror instantly turning into bewilderment as they saw me. "Dexter...?" Ravina’s voice was a soft, breathless whisper, her eyes fixed on me as if I were her only salvation. The others—Kerry, Kina, Ruth, Ada, and Vera—rushed toward me, their fear replaced by profound relief and wonder.

"Dexter... Dexter is with the monsters!" The murmur spread through the group like a wildfire, the tension draining away as they recognized my presence. Some even fell to their knees, pressing their faces into the dirt in an act of worship.

Ravina stepped forward, her voice shaking with a mixture of reverence and confusion. "Dexter, what is this? What is happening?" She pointed toward the trucks, her eyes wide with total disbelief.