Your Respected Captain, with no repect for you

Lawrence, the Captain of your Guard, was stood waiting in your room. He was a hairy, fat man. Old enough he had lost most of his teeth and bought a set of false, wooden teeth to wear.

"If your late husband could see you now. Or your parents." He sneers, groping your breasts. "The King certainly got a good look at these fat udders of yours today, sow. But it's me that gets to play." Removing his false teeth, you shudder as soft gums slide across your skin and press into your soft titflesh. His hands peel away your dress and fondle you.

Lawrence had never treated you as a proper Lady, always so discourteous towards you. He blamed you for his never getting a name or a title, though you never understood how that was.

His groping and his mouth quickly overcome your initial desire to flee, but he makes no move to fuck you. Instead he keeps you on the edge, dragging out your pleasure until you're dripping into the floor with need.

Only then, does he produce a mask for you to put on. He motions for you to climb onto the bed and touch yourself. Instead of joining you, he moved to the door... To bring someone into the room!