Sara's breath hitched in her throat, her eyes wide with disbelief as Ruth's body convulsed, her pussy gushing in a violent, obscene spray across the furs. The sound was wet, filthy, the sight so shockingly lewd that Sara's fingers froze mid-motion, her touch hovering over her own dripping pussy. Her voice trembled, her words spilling out in a shocked whisper:

"She—she's peeing herself over him..."

Ada, still breathless from watching her daughter's ruin, turned her head slightly, her lips curling into a smirk despite the lingering anger she felt toward Sara—one of Ravina's women, an enemy by association. But even she couldn't resist the urge to mock the younger woman's ignorance.

"What do you know?" Ada's voice was sharp, her tone laced with disdain as she glanced at Sara's wide, stunned eyes. "That's not pee, girl." Her fingers still worked lazily between her own thighs, her pussy throbbing from the sight of Ruth's submission.

"It's called squirting." She let out a derisive hmph, her gaze flicking back to Ruth's trembling, ruined body. "Only a woman who's been properly fucked can do that."

Sara's face burned, her fingers twitching as she processed Ada's words. "S-Squirting..." she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes still locked on the glistening mess Ruth had made.

The furs beneath Ruth were soaked—her fluids, my cum, the obscene evidence of her ruin glistening in the firelight. The air was thick with the scent of arousal and submission, the musk of sex and sweat clinging to every breath.

Sara's pussy ached, her fingers pressing harder against her clit as she stared at the mess Ruth had made, her imagination running wild with the thought of being fucked so thoroughly, so brutally, that her own body would betray her like that.

Ruth didn't faint this time, but she was panting hard, her body covered in a sheen of sweat, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Her pussy still throbbed, her thighs slick with my cum and her own fluids, her body trembling with the aftershocks of her orgasm. She turned her head slightly, her eyes locking onto mine, her lips parted in a breathless, satisfied smirk.

I reached down, my fingers brushing against her cheek before pulling her against me. "Come here," I murmured, my voice a dark purr, my touch possessive as I guided her to lie on top of me. Her body melted against mine, her breath warm against my chest, her pussy still pulsing with the memory of my cock.

Then I turned my gaze to Ada and Sara, my voice a command. "Mother Ada, Lie down. Sleep together."

Ada's breath hitched, her fingers still lingering between her legs, her pussy dripping with need. She hesitated for only a moment before complying, her body moving to lie beside Ruth, her gaze flickering with a mix of shame and arousal.

Sara, still flushed and trembling, followed suit, her body pressing close to Ada's, her breath uneven as she settled onto the furs.

The firelight cast long, shifting shadows across their bodies—Ada's mature curves, Sara's younger, trembling form, and Ruth, still ruined and dripping on top of me. The air was thick with the scent of sex, the weight of what had just happened hanging heavy between us.

Ruth's breath slowly steadied, her body relaxing against mine, her fingers tracing idle circles on my chest. "Dexter..." Her voice was a soft murmur, her eyes half-lidded with exhaustion. "Promise me..." Her fingers tightened slightly, her voice a whisper. "Promise me you'll fill me up again tomorrow."

I chuckled darkly, my fingers brushing against Ruth's sweat-dampened hair, my touch possessive, my voice a dark purr against her forehead. "Oh, Ruth..." My lips grazed her skin, my breath warm as I whispered, "I'll fill you up every day."

She nuzzled against me, her breath slow and steady, her body still trembling faintly from the aftershocks of last night's ruin. I pulled her closer, my arms wrapping around her, my fingers tracing idle circles on her back as I felt her drift into sleep.

The fire had long since burned down to embers, the hut bathed in the dim, early light of dawn filtering through the cracks in the doorflap. The air still carried the scent of sex—musky, thick, intoxicating—but exhaustion pulled at me, my own eyelids growing heavy as I held Ruth against me.

I didn't dream. I never did.

But when I woke, the hut was quiet. Too quiet.

My arms were still wrapped around Ruth, but Ada and Sara were gone. The furs where they had slept were cold, the space beside us empty. Ruth still lay on top of me, her breath soft and even, her body warm and pliant.

I shifted slightly beneath Ruth's warm, sleeping weight, my fingers brushing against her cheek before carefully lifting her off me. Her body curled into the furs, her breath soft and even, her lips parting slightly as she murmured something incoherent in her sleep.

The faintest hint of a smile tugged at my lips as I watched her for a moment—her body still marked by last night's passion, her skin flushed, her thighs slick with the remnants of my cum. But duty called.

I stepped outside, the morning air cool against my skin. The camp was already alive with movement—women tending to fires, others gathering near the center, their voices low and tense.

Helen and a few of Ravina's warriors stood guard, their spears in hand, their gazes sharp as they watched over the tribe. The atmosphere was thick with unease, the weight of last night's betrayal still hanging heavy in the air.

And then I saw her.

Ravina sat atop a large, flat rock near the center of the camp, her posture unyielding, her expression unreadable. Hina stood beside her, her arms crossed, her face a mask of quiet resignation. Ravina's eyes flicked up the moment I stepped into view, her lips curling into a smirk that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Dexter..." Her voice was smooth, commanding, her gaze locking onto mine. "Come with me." She didn't phrase it as a request. "I need your help."

I didn't hesitate.

I strode toward Ravina, my steps confident, my bare feet pressing into the packed earth as I moved. The women of the tribe watched me with a mix of fear and fascination, their eyes lingering on the way my muscles shifted beneath my skin, the way I carried myself like a man who owned the world—and now, them. Some of them still bore the marks of last night—swollen lips, bruised thighs, the faintest hint of shame in their eyes. Others simply looked broken, their pride shattered, their loyalty now hanging by a thread.

Once we were inside the hut, Ravina turned to me, her voice low and sharp. "Dexter..." Her fingers tapped against her spear, her gaze locking onto mine. "What are we gonna do now?"

I didn't answer right away. Instead, I pulled up my System Interface, my eyes scanning the updated Pervert Points—now sitting at a staggering 40,000 after last night's debauchery. The notifications were still turned off, but I could feel the weight of them—each filthy, vulgar act logged and rewarded:

[+5,000 | Fucking a daughter in front of her mother]

[+10,000 | Forced squirting]

[+3,000 | Public humiliation (mother watching)]

[+7,000 | Breeding threat (promise of pregnancy)]

[+15,000 | Psychological domination (breaking resistance)]

I smirked. Good. Let the points keep rolling in.

Ravina's eyes narrowed as she watched me, her voice sharp with impatience. "Dexter. What are we gonna do now?"

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