Let him take what he wants

“Gaston, what do you want from me?” you're not in the mood for this. Whatever he wants he can take and you won't give him the satisfaction of seeing you struggle. He's already pressing you up against the tree, one hand squeezing painfully on your right breast, the other ripping the bow out of your hair, his eyes staring intensely into yours, but seeing nothing.

“I want you Belle. You're going to be my wife. Every evening I will come home to you and a hot dinner. And when I have my strength back, you'll lay down and carry my son”.

Contrary to the beliefs of the man now slipping his tongue down your throat, this charm offensive hasn't worked its magic. But like the strange woman in his fantasy, you're not asked for an opinion on the matter. A firm hand forces you to kneel, another expertly undoes a buckle on the oafish waistline. 'Hello again' you sigh, staring once more at the only penis you've ever seen.

“But for now Belle, we must not consummate our love and live in sin! Oh yes my darling, I too would dearly love to lay with you, but you must contain your excitement and perform for me some other service”.

You roll your eyes and get to work