NOTE- ONLY READ IF YOU ARE READY FOR A R18 STORY WITH EXPLICIT CONTENT,DO NOT EXPECT ANY CRAZY OUT OF THE BLUE STORY,THOUGH THIS WILL BE UNIQUE.
In the dim, flickering glow of a thousand illicit fantasies rendered in pixels, I found my end—not in some grand clash of fates or heroic stand against the void, but in the quiet, frantic rhythm of a hand too familiar with its own desperate grasp.
My name is Hiro, though in the shadowed corners of the digital underbelly where I dwelled, it might as well have been Anonymous User 69420.
Twenty-four years old, a NEET forged in the crucible of endless scrolling, my life was a tapestry woven from threads of hentai doujins, each page a fleeting escape from the mundane grind of existence.
Three hundred terabytes—yes, terabytes—of meticulously curated depravity, every tag cataloged like a scholar's grimoires: tentacles that writhed with otherworldly hunger, schoolgirls ensnared in webs of forbidden desire, elves bent beneath the unrelenting advance of orcish legions.
Every tag, that is, except one.
The Stone Age.
Primal, untouched, a virgin frontier in the vast library of human perversion.
I had devoured worlds of fantasy, but the raw, unhewn edge of prehistory eluded me, a mocking blank space in my collection.
The room that cradled my final moments was a sanctum of controlled chaos, a hermit's lair lit by the cold pulse of RGB LEDs that danced across stained walls like spectral fireflies trapped in a jar.
The air hung heavy with the mingled scents of stale cum and instant ramen, the kind of aroma that clings to the soul like a lover's regret.
My futon, a sagging battlefield of crusted tissues and discarded wrappers, cradled my form as I reclined before the triple-monitor altar.
The screens hummed with unholy life, their glow casting elongated shadows that twisted across the clutter of energy drink cans and forgotten peripherals.
On the left monitor, *Orc Breeder vs Cavegirl Tribe* lay paused at the 46:12 mark, the frame frozen in exquisite tension: the chief's daughter, her lithe form arched over a jagged boulder slick with dew, her eyes wide with a cocktail of terror and treacherous ecstasy as the brutish green cock hovered at her threshold, poised for invasion.
The center screen erupted in a frenzy of live chat, avatars blurring in a digital orgy of demands—"CREAMPIE HER ALREADY," "MAKE HER SQUIRT FOR THE CLAN," "FAVORITE TAG: IMPREGNATION"—each message a spark in the bonfire of collective lust.
And to the right, the true conductor of this symphony: my hand, slick with the synthetic sheen of drugstore lube, pumping in a slow, deliberate rhythm that mirrored the on-screen thrust yet outpaced it in mechanical precision.
"Take it deeper, damn—"
I muttered to the empty air, my voice a gravelly rasp swallowed by the hum of cooling fans.
My hips twitched involuntarily, chasing the elusive peak, the build-up coiling in my gut like a serpent ready to strike.
Sweat beaded on my brow, trickling down to mingle with the salt of exertion.
The world narrowed to this: the slick slide of skin on skin, the hypnotic sway of animated flesh, the distant rumble of thunder beyond the thin walls of my apartment.
Lightning cracked then, a jagged scar across the storm-lashed sky, too close, too intimate.
The router sparked—a brief, acrid flare of ozone—and the screens guttered like candles in a gale.
*Fuck, let me finish—*
Blackness swallowed me whole, not with the dramatic flourish of a hero's fall, but with the abrupt finality of a crashed tab.
No pain, no revelation, just the void—cold, absolute, and indifferent as the uncaring cosmos.
---
When awareness returned, it was not to the sterile embrace of a hospital bed or the ethereal glow of some promised afterlife, but to a haze of neon pink that unfurled like the petals of a carnivorous bloom in the endless night.
The void stretched around me, not empty but pregnant with potential, a canvas smeared with the residue of forgotten dreams.
And from its depths, she emerged: a woman—no, a goddess—stepping forth as if the mist itself parted in reverent awe.
Eight feet of divine excess, her skin a cascade of molten gold that shimmered with inner fire, veins of starlight tracing paths beneath the surface like rivers of captured constellations.
Her form was a masterpiece of temptation, curves that defied the tyranny of gravity, hips swaying with the languid grace of a predator toying with its prey.
And her breasts—ah, those twin orbs of perfection, full and defiant, nipples erect and leaking droplets of luminous essence that evaporated into sparks upon the air, each one a promise of ecstasy unbound.
My dead heart stuttered, or perhaps it was merely the echo of its last defiant pulse, for even in death, my traitorous flesh stirred.
The cock that had betrayed me in life twitched faintly, a ghost of rigor mortis laced with lingering hunger.
*Damn. She's hot. Maybe rigor mortis comes with boners in the premium afterlife.*
She regarded me with eyes like polished obsidian flecked with crimson embers, a smile curling her lips—full, painted in the hue of crushed berries—that spoke of secrets whispered in the dark hours.
"Stone Age tag still zero."
She said, her voice a silken caress wrapped around the low thrum of a moan, vibrating through the ether to coil in my marrow.
It was the sound of velvet dragged slowly over bare skin, of promises etched in sweat and sighs.
"You've devoured the depraved dreams of empires and elves, mortal, but the cradle of it all remains untouched. Go fill it. Become the prophet they never knew they craved."
*Wait—man, so these gods are using me as some adult star? Truck-kun's on vacation, so they send the lightning DLC?*
Before I could muster a retort—sarcastic, of course, because what else does a dead NEET have?—she snapped her fingers.
The sound echoed like the crack of fracturing reality.
Beneath my incorporeal form, a magic circle yawned open, runes of pink flame igniting in fractal patterns that burned without heat, drawing me down into free-fall.
The void rushed past in a blur of forgotten sins, and then—
---
**THUD.**
The impact was a rude awakening, cold stone slamming into my bare ass with the unyielding indifference of ancient earth.
My body—whole, vital, inexplicably restored—jolted, and my dick, that faithful betrayer, slapped against my thigh with a wet *thwack*, a final dribble of leftover cum tracing a lewd path onto the cave floor like an unwitting libation to forgotten gods.
The air here was thick, primal: damp earth mingled with the sharp tang of fish entrails and the smoky whisper of a dying fire, a scent that clawed at the back of my throat and stirred something feral in my blood.
I lay there for a heartbeat, chest heaving, the cavern's chill seeping into my skin like an unwelcome lover.
Shadows clung to the walls, etched by the feeble dance of flames from a central pit, where embers gnawed at logs of resinous pine.
Stalactites wept condensation in lazy rivulets, and the distant murmur of wind through unseen cracks carried the faint howl of a world untamed.
My body felt... enhanced.
Stronger, unburdened by the atrophy of screen-bound years.
Nine inches of girthsome pride swung free, heavy and unashamed, as if the goddess's gift had polished it to a weapon's edge.
Three women froze in their labor, bone knives suspended mid-slice over the splayed carcasses of river trout, their scales iridescent in the firelight.
They were visions carved from the raw clay of prehistory, leaf skirts and tops woven with hasty artifice, bodies marked by the honest toil of survival—scars like silver threads, skin bronzed by sun and wind.
No porcelain dolls these, but women forged in the crucible of the wild, their forms a symphony of strength and softness that stirred my scholar's blood anew.
The first, Lira—eighteen summers etched in the wide blue of her eyes and the golden braid that cascaded like a river of sunlight down her back—stared at me with a mixture of awe and bewilderment.
Her leaf top strained against the generous swell of D-cups, a precarious arrangement of broad fronds that threatened to slip with every breath, revealing the pale undersides flushed with the cave's chill.
"Man fell from sky."
She murmured, her voice a soft lilt like wind through reeds, pointing with a trembling finger at the glistening trail on the stone.
"His thing… leaks white sap. Is it... wounded? Does the sky curse it so?"
Beside her, Mira—thirty winters heavy in the gentle curves of her widow's frame, black hair falling in untamed waves to veil a face etched with quiet sorrow—clutched a hide sling to her chest, where an infant slumbered oblivious.
Her body spoke of births and losses, hips wide and inviting, breasts full with milk that beaded faintly at the edges of her leaf bindings.
She whispered behind a callused hand, eyes darting to my exposed length with a hunger masked as curiosity.
"Bigger than any I've seen. Even Kari's spear doesn't hang so... proud. Oh, spirits... what manner of man is this?"
And then Kira—twenty, a tempest in human form, her red mane wild as autumn flames, scarred arms corded with muscle from spear-throws and hunts—snarled low in her throat, bone-tipped spear rising like a venomous fang.
Scars crisscrossed her sun-kissed skin like the tattoos of battles won, her stance a coiled spring of aggression.
"Demon."
She spat, green eyes narrowing to slits.
"I kill it. How did it come here, spilling its curse on sacred ground? Speak, sky-fallen filth, or feel my blade!"
I pushed myself up on elbows roughened now by some divine polish, the cave's chill raising gooseflesh that only heightened the throb of returning blood.
A smirk tugged at my lips—smug, unyielding, the armor of a man who had faced down legions of animated abominations without flinching.
*Three primitives, zero shame. This Isekai's scripting on god-mode.*
"Relax, Red."
I drawled, voice echoing slightly off the stone, laced with the sarcasm that had been my shield in life.
"Killing comes after touching. Trust me—it's in the tutorial. And hey, if you're gonna gut me, at least make it quick. I've got places to nut."
As if summoned by the audacity of my words, a blue HUD flickered into existence across my vision, crisp and insistent as a system prompt in a half-remembered game.
Letters shimmered like frost on glass, overlaying the world without obscuring it.
**[PLEASURE DOMINION SYSTEM – BOOT]**
The interface unfolded in my mind's eye, a cascade of data that hummed with electric promise:
```
[Host: Hiro | Title: Hentai Prophet]
[Currency: Lust Points (LP) - Current: 0]
[Passives Unlocked: Infinite Stamina | God Seed Aura (Dormant)]
[Emergency Quest: Extract 1 handjob in 600 seconds]
[Reward: Survival + 100 LP | Passive Unlock]
[Failure: Permadeath]
[Timer: 10:00… 9:59… 9:58…]
```
The countdown ticked like a heartbeat in my skull, each second a noose tightening.
*Ten minutes to convert or croak. Lustriel, you kinky overseer—subtle as a brick to the nuts.*
"Alright, ladies."
I said, locking eyes with Lira, her braid swaying as she tilted her head.
"Who's volunteering for the hands-on demo? You, Goldilocks—yeah, you look curious enough."
No time for philosophy.
My gaze locked on Lira, the virgin flame in her eyes flickering higher, arousal blooming unseen but felt in the quicken of her breath.
I reached out, snaring her wrist—her skin warm against the cave's bite, calluses from flint tools and river hauls rasping like a promise of friction to come.
Gently, inexorably, I drew her hand downward, wrapping her fingers around the base of my shaft.
Nine inches pulsed in her grip, girth filling her palm like a club forged for forgotten wars, veins thrumming with the resurgence of life.
"Easy there."
I murmured, feeling her fingers tremble.
"It's not gonna bite—unless you ask nice."
Her breath hitched, blue eyes widening to saucers as she felt the heat, the insistent throb.
"Slow."
I guided, voice low and steady, like a mentor unveiling forbidden lore.
"Up. Down. Thumb the tip—like coaxing fire from damp tinder, but with intent. Yeah, just like that... *mmm*, good grip."
Her palm slid, tentative at first, the rough texture of her skin a delicious contrast to the slick remnants of my interrupted release.
Rough.
Perfect.
It moved with a life of its own, swelling under her touch, and she breathed out in wonder, braid swaying as she leaned closer.
"It moves on its own."
She whispered, awe threading her words like smoke.
"Like a spirit-beast, waking to my hand... oh, it's so warm, so... alive. *Ah*... does it like me?"
Through the haze of sensation, [Pleasure Eyes] stirred faintly, a nascent overlay tinting her form with ethereal readouts: **Lira Arousal: 45% → 62%**.
The air between us thickened, charged as the storm that had felled me, the fire's crackle a distant counterpoint to the wet *schlick-schlick* of her strokes.
"Keep going, princess."
I encouraged, a low groan escaping my lips.
"*Fuck*, yeah... twist a little at the top. Feels like heaven already."
Mira shifted, her thighs clenching beneath the scant leaf skirt, the motion subtle but betraying—a rustle like autumn leaves in a hidden glade.
Her dark eyes fixed on the scene, lips parted, the infant in her sling stirring faintly as if sensing the shift in the air's weight.
"Such... boldness."
She murmured, voice soft as river mist, laced with a yearning she dared not name.
"No man has ever... guided so. *Mmm*... my body... it remembers touches long forgotten. Is this... allowed?"
Kira's growl rumbled like distant thunder, her spear dipping despite the fire in her stance.
"This is wrong."
She declared, but the words lacked conviction, cracking at the edges as her gaze betrayed her—flickering downward, pupils dilating in the firelight.
*"But my lower part is twitching,"*
She muttered under her breath, a confession dragged from the depths, her free hand unconsciously pressing against her abdomen as if to quell an inner flame.
"Curse you, demon... why does watching make my blood run hot? *Hngh*... like fever after the hunt."
The timer burned: **8:47…**.
I leaned in closer to Lira, my free hand cupping the nape of her neck, thumb tracing the delicate shell of her ear.
Her scent enveloped me—earth and wild herbs, the faint salt of sweat from the day's labors.
"Put the tip in your face, princess."
I coaxed, voice a velvet command wrapped in encouragement.
"You'll get stronger. Taste the essence that binds fates. Open up... nice and slow."
*Little did I know—my godspeed cum actually buffs them. Lustriel, you sneaky bitch, scripting power-ups in the payload.*
Lira obeyed with the solemnity of one approaching a sacred rite, her lips parting like petals under dawn's first kiss.
Blue eyes locked on mine, seeking approval, she leaned forward, breath ghosting hot over the sensitive crown.
I angled my hips subtly, her hand still pumping in that earnest rhythm—up, twist, down—building the pressure like a storm gathering on the horizon.
"That's it."
I breathed, voice husky.
"Lick the tip first... *yeah*, like that. *Groan*... good girl."
Her tongue darted out, flat and warm, tracing the underside with a tentative *slurp*, drawing a bead of pre-cum that she savored with a soft *mmmph*, eyes fluttering half-shut.
Stroke.
Stroke.
The cave seemed to hold its breath, the flames leaping higher as if feeding on the tension.
Her mouth enveloped the tip, warm and tentative, tongue flicking experimentally against the slit—*swirl, swirl*—drawing a deeper groan from my throat.
The sensation was exquisite—a velvet vice laced with the raw edge of discovery.
"*Ahh*... fuck, Lira, just like that."
I rasped, fingers tightening in her braid.
"Deeper now... relax your throat. *Mmm*... you're a natural."
**Groan.**
It built then, inexorable as the tide, coiling in my core until it shattered.
Ropes blasted forth—thick, hot, a torrent of pearly essence straight into the welcoming heat of her mouth.
She gurgled softly—*glurk, glurk*—surprise widening her eyes, but held fast, throat working instinctively to accommodate the flood.
"Swallow it down."
I urged, voice strained with release.
"*Yes*... take every drop, princess. *Hngh*..."
I pulled back slowly, threads of cum bridging the distance between my cock and her lips like silken bridges spun from desire's own loom, glistening in the fire's amber glow.
"Swallow."
I commanded gently, tilting her chin up with a finger, meeting her gaze—watery now, but alight with something newfound, electric.
"All of it. Feel the power settle in you."
She did, throat bobbing in a graceful undulation—*gulp*—a faint flush creeping up her neck to stain her cheeks rose.
The act seemed to unlock something within her; her body trembled, knees buckling as if the stone itself had shifted beneath her.
"Oh... *ahh*!"
She gasped, a high, keening moan escaping as her hand flew between her thighs.
And then it came—a squirt, clear and forceful, arcing from between her thighs in shimmering bursts that splashed against the cave floor with wet, echoing *splat-splat-splat*, pooling in the depressions like offerings to subterranean spirits.
"Something… broke inside me."
She gasped, voice trembling on the edge of a sob, fingers clutching my thigh for anchorage as aftershocks rippled through her frame—*shiver, whimper*.
Her leaf skirt darkened at the hem, thighs quivering, the air now laced with the musky perfume of her release.
"*Mmm*... sky-man, it burns so sweet... like lightning in my blood. More? Please... *hah*..."
The system chimed triumphantly, overlays blooming like victorious banners:
```
[QUEST CLEAR]
[+100 LP]
[Pleasure Eyes Lv1 Unlocked]
[Harem Slot 1/10 | Lira Loyalty: Curious → Addicted]
[Lira Arousal: 100% → Post-Orgasm Glow]
```
The glow about her was literal now, a faint shimmer in [Pleasure Eyes]'s filter—her skin flushed, eyes glassy with satiation, body languid as a cat in sun-warmed grass.
I slid a thumb between her thighs, parting the slick folds with care, finding her clit—swollen, a pearl of oversensitive fire.
I circled it languidly—*slow, teasing*—drawing a jolt from her that arched her back like a bowstring drawn taut.
*"Sky-man… more…"*
She whimpered, the plea half-prayer, half-begging, her hand still loosely curled around my length as if afraid to let go—*squeeze, stroke*.
"*Ahh*... right there... it tingles, like stars bursting. *Mmmph*... don't stop..."
Mira watched from the shadows, biting her lower lip until the flesh paled under her teeth—*nibble, sigh*—her free hand unconsciously cradling the infant closer as if to shield innocence from the unfolding revelation.
"Lira... you glow like the moon-mother."
She breathed, voice thick with envy and want.
"*Oh*... I feel it too, deep in my core. Sky-man, is this the seed's gift? *Hah*... my milk... it aches watching."
Kira's spear clattered fully to the ground then—*clang*—the sound a punctuation in the charged silence, her muscular frame taut with conflict—rage warring with the insidious pull of curiosity, her breath coming in ragged bursts that stirred the red strands framing her face.
"Damn you both."
She hissed, but her hand drifted lower, pressing against her own heat through the leaves.
"*Nngh*... why does it pull at me? Like the hunt's fire, but... wetter. Deeper. *Fuck*... I shouldn't..."
And outside, the world intruded: drums thundering like the heartbeat of an awakening beast—*boom-boom, boom-boom*—deep and resonant, shaking fine dust from the cavern's vaulted ceiling.
The entrance yawned blacker still, and the Chief's roar echoed through, a bellow forged in the fires of patriarchal fury:
"Sky-man! We thought you were god. You touched my daughter? Bring her out—or die. *Now*, or my club drinks your blood!"
I licked my thumb clean—salt and honey and the faint, wild tang of her essence, a flavor that lingered on my tongue like power incarnate—*slurp*.
Rising slowly, Infinite Stamina thrumming through my veins like liquid fire, I met the encroaching darkness with a grin sharp as flint.
"Class is in session."