Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks Chapter 307: Sexologist: Doctor Anya Volkov

Just as Scarlett exited the chamber, Rachel made her way back with a wheelchair, her expression clouded by a blend of bewilderment and anxiety. Pushing the seat toward us, she glanced nervously between Nathalie and me, her voice dropping to a cautious, low tone.

"Is something happening out there?" she inquired, her grip tightening on the handles of the wheelchair.

"Rumors are circulating... that men are being evicted from the fortress. Earlier, several male patients were even removed from this hospital." Her eyes searched ours, a spark of dread visible in her gaze. "Are you two aware of what's going on?"

For a brief moment, I was stunned. The possibility that they were totally oblivious to the situation hadn't crossed my mind. However, it made sense—the hospital was situated at the very rear of the fortress, nearly in total isolation.

It was likely the staff resided in dorms right next to the clinic, completely severed from the rest of the compound. They probably hadn't witnessed a thing.

Nathalie, still consumed by her own whirlwind of terror and relief, barely processed Rachel’s inquiry. "That..." she breathed, her voice trailing off as she gazed at Tyler, her thoughts clearly focused elsewhere.

I intervened smoothly, adopting a calm tone while remaining intentionally vague. "We aren't entirely sure," I remarked, shaking my head to mimic a sense of troubled uncertainty. "However, we have observed men being escorted out of the fortress. This has been ongoing for some time."

Rachel’s eyes widened a fraction, her hands clenching the wheelchair more firmly. "That is... truly bizarre," she whispered, seemingly talking to herself. She looked back at Tyler, her face darkening with worry.

"And now this patient... he is the sole male left in the entire hospital." Her voice sank to a tiny whisper, as though she feared being eavesdropped upon. "Do you believe there is a connection?"

I gave a slow nod, keeping my face carefully neutral to mirror her own confusion and concern. "It is indeed strange," I concurred, allowing just the right hint of unease to color my voice.

"I'm not sure what is happening, but it feels wrong." I paused, ensuring the gravity of my statement was felt. "Have you spotted anything else out of the ordinary? Any other shifts in the routine around here?"

Rachel paused, her eyes darting toward the entrance as if she anticipated an intruder. "Not particularly," she confessed, her voice barely audible.

Her fingers shook slightly as she helped Tyler into the wheelchair, her voice remaining a soft murmur. "Even the male doctors and nurses have been cleared out," she noted again, her brow furrowing even further.

"Initially, I assumed it was a safety measure—perhaps a quarantine or some emergency exercise. But now..." She stopped mid-sentence, glancing at the door as if expecting someone to burst in and validate her deepest fears. "I don't understand what is going on, but it isn't right. It doesn't feel right at all."

I nodded, my face a well-crafted mask of sympathy. "Yes, that might be the case," I replied softly, adding enough weight to my tone to discourage further questioning.

"With the chaos outside, it's difficult to tell." My eyes drifted toward the doorway, my focus already shifting to other matters.

Rachel made one final adjustment to Tyler’s position in the wheelchair to ensure his safety. Nathalie stood at her side, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the handles, her entire existence centered on the unconscious body of her son.

The room was heavy with a thick, unspoken terror—the kind that sticks to your skin and makes your heart race.

But then—she walked past.

My breath caught in my throat for a split second.

The woman was incredibly tall—exceptionally so—with legs that seemed to go on forever beneath her pristine white doctor’s coat.

She walked with a supreme confidence, the kind born from knowing her own immense value, her hips swaying just enough to draw every eye in the room. Her hair was a waterfall of platinum blonde, so light it appeared silver, tied back in a sharp, high ponytail that highlighted the striking angles of her face. Her skin was a perfect, porcelain white, as if it had never been touched by the sun.

Russian, I concluded immediately. That specific bone structure, those high cheekbones, and the piercing icy blue of her eyes were unmistakable.

And her physique—God.

Her coat was perfectly tailored, clinging to her in all the right spots. The material looked strained against her full, heavy breasts, a sight that made my throat go dry. Her waist was incredibly slim, leading down to wide, tempting hips that moved rhythmically with every stride, her thighs looking thick and powerful under her lab coat.

Even from the back, she was a masterpiece—every line and curve seemed designed to tempt and shatter a man's restraint.

She was flanked by two nurses who looked like mere shadows in the wake of her overwhelming presence.

The woman didn't even look our way; her attention was locked onto the tablet in her hands. Her lips—full, plump, and colored a deep, sinful red—moved slightly as she read.

My heart rate surged.

I leaned toward Nathalie, my voice low and pressing. "Take Tyler back to the mansion with Lisa," I commanded, already beginning to move away. "Go now."

Nathalie blinked at me, her tear-filled eyes clouded with confusion. "But—what about you? Where are you going?"

"I'll be right behind you," I said, my voice firm and brookings no debate. I didn't wait for her to reply. Instead, I pivoted and trailed after the blonde sexologist, my pace quickening as my mind began to work.

She vanished into a room at the corridor's end. As I approached, my eyes landed on the nameplate fixed to the door:

"Dr. Anya Volkov – Sexologist | Female Patients Only. NO MALE PATIENTS ALLOWED."

I came to a halt, a slow, dark grin spreading across my lips.

No male patients permitted, is that so?

My thoughts raced. The fortress had been completely stripped of all male personnel—doctors, nurses, and staff alike. That created a very intriguing opening. If no men were supposed to be present, who would realize if one managed to sneak in? Especially one with... specific intentions.

I took a step back, my eyes fixed on the door. Anya was still inside, her aura practically vibrating through the wood.

I could almost catch her scent—a dizzying blend of high-end perfume and something more raw and primal. It was the sort of fragrance that made you want to press your face against her neck and never pull away.

A plan started to take shape in my mind, both twisted and delicious.

Heh. Hee.