Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks-Chapter 456: Megan’s Final Plea Ignored

Drake lifted his charred stumps—still raw and weeping despite the cauterization—and let his voice carry, hoarse but deliberately loud.

"Are you people just going to sit here and wait to die?" he rasped, eyes sweeping the crowd.

"Dexter has crates of food—canned meat, fresh bread, fruit that isn’t rotten. Clean water you don’t have to boil. Blankets that aren’t crawling with lice. Medicine—real medicine—that could save Paul’s life tonight instead of watching him cough blood until morning."

"And you’re all just... sitting here? Starving? Freezing? While he lives like a king with my wife on her knees and a warm bed every night?"

A low murmur rippled through the group—heads turning, glances exchanged. The children huddled closer to their mothers; the old man Paul coughed wetly into his sleeve.

Jack stepped forward first—face hard, eyes burning with the same old fury that had simmered since Mira walked away.

"You’re saying you know where he is," Jack said, voice low but dangerous. "You know the location. Take us there. I’m going to take my daughter back and make that bastard suffer for stealing my wife."

Bill moved up beside his father—shoulders squared, fists clenched at his sides.

"We’re done waiting to die," Bill added, voice shaking with barely-contained rage. "If he has food, medicine, a roof that doesn’t leak... we take it. We take it all."

Drake’s lips curled into a bitter, triumphant smile despite the pain etched into every line of his face.

"See?" he said, turning to the crowd. "Even Jack and Bill understand. If you don’t believe me... search her." He jerked his chin toward Megan. "I don’t believe she came back empty-handed. Not after the way she looked at him. Go on—search the cop. See what she’s hiding."

Two women—older, hardened by months of scraping survival—stepped forward before Megan could react. Rough hands grabbed her arms, yanking them behind her back. Another set of fingers groped down her sides, under the jacket, along her waistband.

Megan struggled—voice rising in panic.

"Stop! Get off me—! I’m not hiding anything—!"

One woman’s hand dipped into the jacket pocket—pulled out the gun Lisa had returned to her.

"We found a gun!" she shouted, holding it up like evidence in a trial.

The crowd sucked in a collective breath.

Drake’s eyes lit up—triumph cutting through his agony.

"Look!" he crowed. "She’s definitely working for Dexter! Otherwise, how did she get a gun back? You see? She’s his spy—his little pet cop! Probably let him fuck her in exchange for it. Probably moaned for him the same way Camilla did!"

Megan’s face flushed crimson—tears spilling over as she jerked against the hands holding her.

"Drake—shut up!" she shouted, voice cracking with fury and humiliation.

"That gun was mine! Lisa returned it when I left—that’s all! There’s nothing wrong with that! I didn’t sell myself! I didn’t beg! I fought him! I pointed that gun at him to try to get supplies for all of us—for the children, for Paul, for everyone! And you... You were ready to rape his women! You threatened to rape his wife! That’s why he cut your hands off! You’re the traitor here—not me!"

Jack stepped closer—eyes cold.

"Really, Officer Megan?" he said, voice dripping with contempt. "We’re not that dumb. Do you really think anyone would just hand back a gun in this world? Either Dexter is the stupidest man alive... or you’re lying through your teeth. Which is it?"

The crowd murmured—anger rising, suspicion hardening into something dangerous.

Megan’s voice broke—tears streaming freely now.

"Please... listen to me... I’m telling the truth. I didn’t betray anyone. I was trying to help. I was trying to bring back something—anything—to keep us alive. Dexter didn’t rape Camilla—she chose to stay. She begged him to save Drake. She—"

Drake laughed—harsh, ugly, coughing blood.

"She begged him, alright," he sneered. "On her knees. With her tits out. With her cunt dripping. I watched it. I watched my wife turn into a whore right in front of me. And you expect us to believe you didn’t do the same? You came back clean. Dressed. Armed. While the rest of us starve. You’re not one of us anymore, Megan. You’re his."

The two women tightened their grip on Megan’s arms.

"Bring that rope," Jack ordered.

Bill sprinted to one of the tents—returned seconds later with a coil of rough hemp rope.

Megan’s eyes widened—panic flooding her voice.

"No—wait—you’re making a mistake! Things are not what you think! Please—listen—!"

But rough hands were already dragging her toward the nearest tree. They forced her arms behind her back—rope biting into her wrists as they wound it tight. She struggled—tears streaming—voice rising into desperate pleas.

"You guys are making a huge mistake!" she cried. "I’m not working for him! I swear on my life! I just wanted to help! I wanted to bring back medicine for Paul, food for the kids—I didn’t sell myself! I didn’t betray you! Please—believe me!"

One of the older women—face hard with hunger and distrust—leaned in close.

"We believed you when you wore the badge," she said bitterly. "We believed you’d protect us. Look where that got us. Starving. Sick. Dying. And now you come back dressed like you’ve been sleeping in silk while we bury our dead. You’re not one of us anymore."

They finished tying her—ropes tight around her wrists and ankles—binding her upright against the tree trunk.

Megan sagged against the ropes—sobbing openly now.

"I’m sorry..." she whispered. "I’m so sorry... I failed you... I failed everyone... but please... don’t do this... don’t go after him. He’s stronger than you think. He’ll kill you. All of you."

Jack turned to the crowd—voice hard.

"Who’s with us?" he asked. "Who’s tired of starving? Who’s ready to take back what’s ours?"

Hands rose—slow at first, then faster. Voices murmured agreement.

"We’re going," one man said. "Tonight."

Drake—still propped against a log, stumps cradled uselessly in his lap—smiled through the pain.

"That’s right," he rasped. "Take it all. Burn his little paradise down. And when you find my wife... bring her back to me. I want to see her face when she realizes what she’s done."

Megan’s sobs grew louder—head dropping forward, tears dripping onto the rope around her chest.

"I’m sorry..." she kept whispering. "I’m so sorry..."