Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks-Chapter 440: Nicole’s Demand: Chicken Fries

Mira tucked Nicole closer against her side as we walked, one arm wrapped protectively around the girl’s shoulders, the other hand gently stroking her hair. Nicole still trembled faintly, but the worst of the shock seemed to have passed—replaced by quiet, wide-eyed acceptance.

"Nicole, don’t think too much," Mira murmured, voice soft and soothing despite the lingering flush on her own cheeks. "Anyway, you’re following us now... so just know—we’re all taking care of you. No more empty bellies. No more cold nights. Mom’s here. And... and everyone else is too. You’re safe, baby. I promise."

Nicole nodded against her mother’s shoulder—small, hesitant, but trusting. "Okay, Mom," she whispered. "I... I believe you."

We kept walking—sand giving way to rocky path, then the familiar shadowed mouth of the cave rising ahead like a promise.

The group moved in loose formation: Mira and Nicole in the center, Angela and Lisa flanking them like silent guardians, Camilla pressed close to my side—her thick thigh brushing mine with every step, massive tits swaying heavily under the red dress—and Megan trailing a few paces behind, silent, watchful, her half-unbuttoned shirt flapping in the sea breeze.

As soon as we crossed the threshold, the cool, dim interior swallowed us. The battery lamp still glowed low and amber from its spot between the sleeping mats, casting soft golden edges across the wide, dragged-in bedding, the scattered supplies, the faint scent of salt and lingering sex that clung to the stone walls like perfume.

I stopped just inside the entrance—letting Camilla take it all in.

"Here we are," I said, voice low and satisfied, gesturing at the space with one hand while the other stayed possessively splayed across the small of her back. "Isn’t this place nice? It has everything—beds, food stores, clean water dripping from the ceiling, a pool, even that little lamp so you can see exactly how I’m going to ruin you later."

Camilla’s eyes went wide—pupils dilating as she took in the sight: thick sleeping mats piled with blankets, crates of canned goods and dried rations stacked neatly against one wall, the faint trickle of fresh water pooling in the natural basin near the back. Her full lips parted in genuine shock.

"How... how is this possible?" she breathed, stepping forward almost involuntarily, heels clicking on stone. "Beds? Real beds? And the lamp... Is it working? No flickering? No dying batteries?" She turned to me—eyes shining with a mix of disbelief and raw hunger. "How did you guys have all this here...?"

I chuckled low in my throat—dark, amused—letting the sound roll out like smoke while Camilla’s thick thighs trembled against mine.

"It’s a secret..." I murmured, voice rough and teasing, fingers still digging possessively into the soft, stinging flesh of her ass. "Some things you don’t get to know until you’ve earned them, slave."

Before she could answer, I reared back and brought my palm down again—harder this time.

SMACK!

The crack echoed off the cave walls like a gunshot—sharp, wet, obscene. Camilla’s whole body jolted forward, massive tits bouncing violently inside the strained red dress, nipples scraping the fabric so hard they looked ready to tear through.

A high, broken "Aaah—!" tore from her throat; her knees buckled for a heartbeat before she caught herself, one hand flying back to rub the blazing red handprint blooming across her round, brown ass cheek.

She whimpered—soft, needy—fingers kneading the stinging flesh in slow circles.

"I’m sorry, Master..." she gasped, voice thick with accent and shame-laced lust. "I forgot... I will keep that in mind. I promise. No more questions. Just... just obedience."

I slid my hand back down—cupping the hot, throbbing globe, squeezing until she moaned again, softer this time, hips rocking back into my palm like she couldn’t help chasing the sting.

"Good girl," I growled against her ear, loud enough for everyone in the cave to hear. "You’ll learn. Or I’ll stripe that fat Mexican ass until it’s purple and you’re crying for mercy. Either way... you’ll be pretty when I’m done."

Camilla shivered hard against me, her thick thighs quivering as fresh slick coated my fingers where they brushed between them. Her cunt was molten—hot, swollen, dripping like she’d been edged for days. "Yes, Master... thank you, Master..." she breathed again, voice cracking with need, hips rocking shamelessly into my hand even as her face burned with humiliation.

Nicole’s eyes were huge—fixed on the scene like she couldn’t look away. She didn’t speak, didn’t ask, but the shock was written all over her small face: the way Camilla moaned openly, the loud smack still echoing in the cave, the casual way I groped and commanded another woman right in front of everyone. Her cheeks flushed pink, but she stayed silent, pressed tight against Mira’s side.

Angela, Lisa, and Mira moved as one—gently guiding Nicole toward the far sleeping mat, away from the center of the cave where the air was thick with sex and tension.

"Come on, sweetheart," Angela said softly, voice losing its usual edge for once. She sat Nicole down between thick blankets, tucking one around her shoulders like a protective cocoon. "Sit. Breathe. No one’s going to hurt you here."

Lisa dropped to one knee in front of the girl—eye-level, calm. "We know this is a lot. You’ve been through hell. But you’re safe now. Really safe."

Mira knelt beside her daughter—stroking her hair, kissing her temple. "We’re all here for you, baby. Just... rest. Let us take care of everything."

Nicole nodded slowly—still wide-eyed, still processing—but she let them settle her, small hands clutching the blanket like a lifeline.

I watched them for a second—then turned back to the group, voice casual, almost domestic.

"What do you guys want to eat?" I asked, loud enough for everyone to hear. "Tell me. Anything you want."

Nicole blinked—startled out of her daze. Her mouth opened, closed, like the question didn’t compute. Food? Actual choice? After months of scavenging scraps?

Mira chuckled—soft, warm, the first real laugh I’d heard from her since we landed. She brushed Nicole’s hair back and answered for her.

"Okay... I know," Mira said, smiling down at her daughter. "She likes chicken fries... and Coke. Crispy ones. With lots of ketchup."

Nicole’s eyes went even wider—hope flickering like a match in the dark. "Really...?" she whispered, almost afraid to believe it.

I nodded—once, easy.

Angela stretched languidly—still naked, skin glowing in the lamp light—and grinned. "We all want that cheese pizza. Extra cheese. Gooey, dripping, the kind that burns your mouth because you can’t wait."

Lisa licked her lips—slow, deliberate. "Same. Pizza. And maybe some garlic bread on the side. I’m starving."

All three women looked at me—expectant, amused, already anticipating.

Finally, I turned to Camilla—still pressed against me, dress hiked up, cunt dripping down her thighs, ass marked red from my hand.

"What about you, my slave?" I asked, voice low and teasing. "What does Master’s new whore want to eat?"