Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks Chapter 392: Angela’s Calculated Ridicule

Mira came to a halt as she joined us, her gaze shifting from Angela to me, filled solely with weariness and a subdued sense of ruin.

Angela wrapped an arm around her midsection. "Come along, sister."

Mira gave a single nod, her expression blank.

I positioned myself at her opposite side—near enough for my arm to graze against hers, near enough for her to sense my heat without any direct contact just yet.

During our walk, she remained silent. She merely shifted slightly in my direction, then Angela's, like she was unsure which offered more security. Her breaths came in short gasps, her shoulders quivering just a bit.

Deep within my torso, that shadowy sense of triumph expanded more than before.

Tonight had left her bereft of all she held dear—spouse, offspring, standing, self-respect. Those meant to shield her had all abandoned her. Promises of affection or faithfulness had twisted into pure malice.

Now, she moved flanked by the sole two individuals who hadn't denounced her.

Angela, whose faith in me was absolute.

And myself, the one who'd masterminded her utter downfall. Lisa kept pace a short distance back.

We departed the charged open space where the chaos had erupted, our steps softened by scattered leaves and pine needles. The evening breeze bit sharply, bearing the pungent aroma of sap and moist soil.

Initially, silence reigned—Mira advanced between Angela and me, her head lowered, limbs clasped firmly about her form as though piecing herself back together. Lisa followed several paces behind, quiet yet alert.

After a seemingly endless stretch of hushed progress, the woodland eased into a compact, nearly round clearing.

Lush turf covered the earth like plush fabric beneath the moon's glow; aged oaks and firs encircled it as quiet guardians, their limbs weaving above to create a canopy of nature.

The spot seemed isolated, nearly hallowed—distant enough from the dwelling to evade Jack's fury for the moment, yet proximate enough to catch the faint whisper of breeze amid the treetops.

I let the compact pack of supplies we'd snatched amid the haste fall to the ground. "This spot. We'll halt here."

Not pausing for consent, I lowered myself and started collecting brittle sticks, limbs, and bigger pieces of wood strewn along the clearing's border.

My fingers worked with familiar speed—piling starter wood into a compact pyramid, slipping bits of parched moss below as ignition material.

With a snap of my lighter and a puff to nurture the spark, fiery tips soon rose, snapping eagerly. Heat spread gradually, driving away the cold that had gripped our frames. Embers floated idly skyward like miniature glow bugs.

I leaned back on my haunches and looked toward Mira.

Since our arrival, she hadn't budged. She remained rooted close to the blaze's rim, gazing blankly into the blaze.

The dancing glow danced over her features, highlighting the furious scarlet imprint lingering boldly on her face—a clear outline of five digits from Jack's strike.

The area surrounding it appeared puffy, inflamed, with borders already darkening to a contusion. Fresh tears no longer fell, yet her eyelashes stuck together from old ones, and her mouth formed a narrow, shaky strip.

I faced Lisa. "The water container."

She dug into her bag silently and passed it to me. I twisted off the lid, then placed the chilled container into Mira's slack grip.

"Take this," I murmured gently. "Clean your face. Remove that mark."

Mira eyed the container below as if it were unfamiliar. Gradually, her eyes rose to meet mine—large, injured, probing. She denied with a tiny, resolute shake.

"No... We'd be squandering water. It could be essential soon."

A spark of annoyance surged in me, though I concealed it behind a deep, authoritative voice—the kind that swayed her during moments of unraveling.

"Simply follow my instructions, woman. When will you learn to obey?"

Before further objection, I reclaimed the container, let a plentiful flow fill my held hand, and drew near. My digits—tender at this point—lifted her jaw.

I allowed the liquid to flow over the sore spot, then employed the base of my palm to spread it gently over her face in deliberate, cautious motions.

The chilled fluid trailed in streams along her chin, falling to her jacket's neckline. Upon direct touch of my skin, I sent a faint surge of Eternal Vitality—a soothing, amber force streaming from my digits into her tissue akin to molten daylight.

The sting subsided right away. The imprint dissolved in plain view: vivid red mellowing to rose, then erasing completely, restoring flawless, untouched flesh that shimmered softly by the flames.

Mira's eyes widened in surprise. She probed her cheek hesitantly, half-bracing for lingering ache.

I maintained a hushed, personal tone. "Feeling improved? Does it ache still?"

She brushed away the new moisture in her eyes—altered now, born of ease rather than sorrow. "No... I'm okay. The pain's gone." Her tone was faint, nearly innocent. "Thanks... I..."

I interrupted her softly, denying with a head shake. "This is entirely on me." I infused remorse into the phrase, weighty and earnest outwardly. "I ought to have clarified things more clearly with your spouse. I permitted this confusion to grow, allowed him to assume the gravest. Witnessing your suffering this way... It weighs on me terribly."

Mira denied vigorously, her raven locks swaying. "No. You bear no blame."

Angela, reclining against a tree's base, observing the interaction through half-closed lids, emitted a scornful snort.

"Hmph. If blame falls anywhere, it's on that wretched spouse of yours." Her tone oozed disdain, keen as a blade.

"He wouldn't even allow you to complete your thought. He erupted in fury, struck you before the children like a feral creature. He disregarded onlookers, ignored the impact on them—or on you. More vile than an animal. Animals at least defend their kin."

Mira stiffened completely. The blaze snapped, hurling a burst of embers aloft. She fixed her sight on the dirt, her posture hunching as Angela's remarks penetrated.

Angela shoved away from the trunk and approached with a languid stride, her hips rolling intentionally. She squatted next to Mira, near enough for their arms to almost touch, and softened her speech to a near-sororal whisper—though tainted with venom.

"None of this is your doing, dear. You needn't bear all this remorse and grief merely because of his charges. If you persist in this manner—eyes lowered, begging pardon for merely being—doesn't that validate his claim? Doesn't it broadcast that you're concealing something? That perhaps his doubts are justified?"

Mira's respiration caught. She raised her head gradually, her stare misty. "Yeah... I committed no offense. Why endure penalty? Why harbor shame for... for emptiness?"

Angela's mouth formed a gradual, pleased grin. As Mira's attention locked on the blaze, Angela glanced my way—fluttering her eyelids in that intentional, provocative manner she was aware appealed to me.

A swift blink, mischievous and collaborative, conveying: Observe? I'm paving the path for you. Tenderizing her. Delivering this shattered gem straight to you.

I met her look briefly, allowing a single side of my lips to rise in wordless approval. Angela's aid was impeccable—brutally potent. She understood precisely how to turn the blade of uncertainty until Mira's devotion to Jack unraveled fully.

Within, the shadowy mirth stirred once more, now cozier, bordering on fondness.

Each phrase Angela instilled widened fissures in the base. Each drop Mira released drew her nearer to the brink. Before long, she'd tumble—directly into my open embrace.

And upon landing, she'd express thanks. Crave more. Belong to me.

The blaze continued its snaps, unaware, while the darkness of night intensified encircling us.