Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks Chapter 314: Slapping Nathalie’s Face

Rising to my feet, I trailed behind Anya as we headed back into the examination room. My pulse quickened, a mixture of genuine anticipation and a carefully crafted show of nervousness. Nathalie was also signaled to follow us, while Nancy and Olivia were left in the waiting area. The door shut with a heavy click, sealing the three of us inside an atmosphere that suddenly felt thick with tension.

The examination table, where Nathalie had been forced to squat in shame just moments before, had been prepared for me. The surface was wiped clean, and the paper covering it was fresh and crisp.

Anya turned toward me, maintaining a strictly professional demeanor despite the faint redness blooming on her cheeks. "Mr. Dexter, please lie down and remove your lower garments," she commanded. Her voice remained steady, yet it held a sharp edge of clinical detachment.

I paused for a beat, letting my face heat up as if I were paralyzed by modesty. As my fingers fumbled clumsily with my pants button, my mind was racing—this was almost too easy.

Noticing my feigned reluctance, Anya offered a small, reassuring smile, though a spark of curiosity flickered in her eyes. "Mr. Dexter, there is no need for embarrassment," she said, her tone gentle but firm. "I am a doctor. There are no taboos between a physician and her patient."

I suppressed the urge to laugh—if that’s true, then why do you only treat women?—but I maintained my sheepish expression perfectly.

Slowly, I pushed my pants down. The massive bulge of my rock-hard cock strained fiercely against my underwear, impossible to ignore. I quickly used my hands to cover myself, acting shy while my face burned with a fake sense of humiliation.

I reclined on the table, heart hammering against my ribs as I continued the act of being overwhelmed. My hands shook as I struggled with the waistband of my boxers. Anya stood close by with her arms crossed, her expression a blend of medical indifference and something far more telling—a sharp, inquisitive look in her eyes.

As I finally slid my underwear down, the sheer size of my cock strained against the thin fabric. The outline of its length and the thick, pulsing veins were clearly visible even before I was fully exposed.

Biting my lip, I kept my face flushed and used my hands to shield my modesty. "D-Doctor, I—" My voice broke, and my fingers trembled over the cloth. Beneath them, my cock twitched, already aching and painfully erect.

Anya let out a soft, almost silent scoff, shaking her head as if my display of shyness amused her. She turned her attention to Nathalie, whose cheeks were already dark with anticipation. "Mrs. Nathalie," Anya said with a commanding tone, "please assist your husband in removing his underwear."

Nathalie’s breath hitched. With trembling fingers, she stepped toward the table. Her eyes were wide and her lips parted slightly as she reached for the waistband of my boxers.

The air in the room felt electric, as if the space itself were holding its breath. I watched her chest rise and fall in shallow gasps, her gaze darting between my eyes and the massive bulge hidden beneath my hands.

With a slow and deliberate movement, Nathalie hooked her fingers into the fabric and pulled it down. My cock, throbbing with intense anticipation, sprang free with a violent jerk. The sudden release caused it to snap upward, slapping against Nathalie’s face with a sharp, wet smack.

The obscene sound echoed through the room. Nathalie let out a shocked gasp—"Aaaah!"—and her hands flew to her face. The thick, heavy length of my cock had left a visible red mark across her skin.

The sensation of my cock striking her face sent a jolt of pleasure through me. My hips twitched involuntarily, and my length throbbed as pre-cum began to bead at the tip. Nathalie’s breathing turned ragged. While her fingers pressed against her flushed skin in shock, her eyes betrayed a different emotion.

Something darker and more shameful was visible. Her lips remained parted, and her tongue darted out to wet them. I noticed the way she pressed her thighs together, clearly trying to suppress the sudden wave of arousal hitting her.

"I—I’m so sorry," I stammered, my voice thick with fake remorse. Despite my words, my cock pulsed again, showing my true excitement. It was thick and veiny, the head glistening and swollen, twitching as if it were hungry for more.

Seeing it so close to Nathalie’s face, with the red mark blooming on her cheek, sent another surge of heat through my body.

Anya’s breath caught in her throat. She stared at my cock with an intensity that made my skin prickle. She took in the entire scene—Nathalie’s trembling fingers, her shallow gasps, and the way my cock jerked as if reaching out for her.

A faint flush climbed up Anya’s neck. For a brief moment, her professional mask slipped as she felt the raw, erotic tension filling the small room.

The air grew heavy with the scent of lust. The sound of Nathalie’s heavy breathing combined with a soft, nearly silent whimper that escaped her lips.

My cock throbbed once more, a drop of pre-cum trailing down the side. I saw Nathalie’s gaze lock onto it, her tongue darting out again as if she were struggling against the urge to taste me.

Anya’s voice, usually so authoritative, dropped to a whisper. She couldn't seem to look away from my throbbing member. "Mr. Dexter..." she began, her breath hitching. Her professional composure was fraying at the edges.

She swallowed hard, her grip tightening on her clipboard as if it were an anchor. "From what I can see... the medicine we prescribed isn’t working. We need to consider a different approach." Though her words were measured, the deep flush on her neck told a different story.

I let out a low, pained groan, clutching the edge of the table as my voice trembled. "Doctor... please, do something," I pleaded, my cock twitching to emphasize my fake distress.

"It’s starting to hurt..." My voice cracked. I arched my body slightly, pretending to be in agony, though the truth was far more scandalous—every second of this was driving me toward the edge.