Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks

The hospital was eerily quiet as Nathalie and I stepped inside, the sterile scent of antiseptic and disinfectant filling the air. The halls were nearly empty—only female nurses and doctors remained, their soft murmurs and the occasional beep of medical equipment breaking the silence.

Everyone else—male patients, visitors, staff—had already been evacuated from the fortress-like building, leaving behind an atmosphere thick with tension and urgency.

I approached the reception desk, my voice steady and authoritative. ”Tyler’s room. Which one is it?” The nurse behind the desk glanced up, her eyes flickering between Nathalie and me before she pointed down the hall. ”Room 307. End of the corridor.”

The hospital corridor stretched before us, its sterile white walls and the faint hum of medical equipment creating an atmosphere thick with tension.

Nathalie’s grip on my arm was almost painful, her nails digging into my skin as we stepped into Tyler’s room. The air smelled of antiseptic and something sharper—fear, desperation, the metallic tang of tears.

Tyler lay motionless in the bed, his small frame swallowed by the stark white sheets and the tangle of wires connected to the monitors beside him.

A female doctor stood at his bedside, her back to us as she studied the screens displaying his vital signs. Her white coat was immaculate, the name Scarlett emblazoned on her ID card, which also revealed her position as the lead pediatric trauma specialist.

Beside her, a nurse—Rachel, according to her own ID—adjusted the IV drip, her movements precise but her expression troubled.

The doctor turned as the door creaked open, her sharp eyes locking onto us. ”Who are you?” she asked, her voice firm but not unkind, her gaze flicking between Nathalie and me.

Nathalie’s breath hitched, her voice trembling as she stepped forward. ”I—I’m his mother,” she stammered, her words rushing out in a desperate whisper.

”This is my son. Tyler.” Her eyes never left Tyler’s face, her expression a heart-wrenching mix of relief and terror.

”Please... let me see him. Let me touch him.” Her hand reached out, hovering just above his arm, as if she were afraid he might disappear if she didn’t tread carefully.

Scarlett’s gaze softened slightly, though her professional demeanor remained intact. ”I see,” she said, her eyes lingering on Nathalie’s tear-streaked face before flicking to me, her eyebrows raising in silent question.

I took a moment to study Scarlett—the way her coat hugged her curves, the confident set of her shoulders, the intelligence in her sharp eyes.

Rachel, too, had a quiet strength about her, though her expression was marred by a deep, unsettled frown.

Scarlett turned back to Nathalie, her voice measured but gentle. ”His condition has stabilized,” she began, ”but the trauma he’s endured...” She hesitated, her eyes flickering to Tyler’s still form.

”It’s not just physical. He’s suffering from severe mental distress. We’ve kept him sedated to prevent any further shock.” Her tone was clinical, but there was an undercurrent of empathy, a mother herself, perhaps, or someone who had seen too much of the world’s cruelty.

Rachel, who had been silent until now, suddenly spoke up, her voice trembling with barely contained anger. ”I don’t understand how something like this could happen,” she said, her hands clenching at her sides.

”To leave a child like this—castrated, traumatized—it doesn’t make sense. This wasn’t an accident. Who could do something so monstrous?” Her voice cracked, her eyes glistening with unshed tears as she looked at Tyler, her outrage palpable.

Nathalie let out a broken sob, her body shaking as she pressed a hand to her mouth. ”Oh God...” she whispered, her voice muffled behind her fingers.

”My baby... what did they do to you?” She turned to Scarlett, her eyes wild with desperation. ”Can he... will he ever be okay? Can he still live a normal life?”

I felt a dark amusement bubble up inside me—if only they knew the truth—but I kept my expression carefully neutral, my face a mask of concern. Nathalie’s pain was almost intoxicating, her desperation a symphony I could conduct with a single word.

Scarlett shot Rachel a sharp glance, her voice low but firm. ”Nurse Rachel, please.” The warning was clear, and Rachel immediately fell silent, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment as she realized her outburst.

She lowered her head, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her scrubs. ”I’m sorry, Doctor. I just... I can’t stand seeing a child like this.”

Scarlett’s expression softened as she turned back to Nathalie. ”He’s asleep now, and that’s for the best,” she said gently. ”The sedation will keep him calm while his body heals. But his mind...” She sighed, her professional mask slipping for just a moment. ”That will take time. He’ll need therapy, love, and patience. A lot of patience.”

Nathalie nodded frantically, her tears spilling over as she finally gathered the courage to touch Tyler’s hand. ”I’ll give him everything,” she whispered, her voice breaking. ”I’ll never leave his side again. I promise.” She looked up at Scarlett, her eyes pleading. ”Can we take him home? Please. I need to take care of him.”

Scarlett hesitated, her gaze flicking to me again, as if assessing whether I was a threat or a protector. ”He’s stable enough for discharge,” she said finally, ”but you’ll need to be very careful. His recovery won’t be easy, and he’ll need constant monitoring. Do you have the resources for that?”

I stepped forward, my voice calm but carrying an unmistakable edge of authority. ”We do,” I said, my hand resting lightly on Nathalie’s shoulder. ”He’ll be well taken care of.”

Scarlett studied me for a long moment, her eyes searching mine as if trying to uncover the truth hidden beneath my composed exterior.

Whatever she saw must have satisfied her, because she nodded slowly. ”Alright. Nurse Rachel will help you with the discharge paperwork and prepare Tyler for the transfer.”

Rachel moved quickly, her earlier emotional outburst replaced by efficient professionalism. She began disconnecting the monitors, her hands steady as she worked. ”I’ll get the wheelchair,” she said softly, casting one last sympathetic glance at Nathalie before slipping out of the room.

Nathalie stayed by Tyler’s side, her tears falling silently as she whispered to him, her words a mix of apologies and promises. ”I’m here, baby. Mommy’s here. I’ll never let anything hurt you again.”

I watched the scene unfold, my mind already racing ahead. The doctor and nurse were too wrapped up in their empathy to notice the predator standing among them.

Scarlett’s big, expressive eyes were filled with concern, her focus entirely on Tyler’s well-being. Rachel’s kindness was almost palpable, her outrage at Tyler’s condition making her blind to the real danger in the room.