Toughen up

“THAT’S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS!”, Roger says, surprising himself.

The masked stranger and Becky seem equally shocked by Rogers rebuttal. Beckys dear husband was always the more quiet and thoughtful type. That was actually the reason she usually took the lead in the bedroom. Her job demanded her to be an authority figure, but many a time had she fantasized about letting go, really letting go, and Roger dominating her. But until now that never felt right. Until now.

“None of my … business? B-but I just barged into here… I got the element of surprise… and I’m a menacing masked stranger… or a ghost … yeah, an otherworldly presence… don’t you see the white veil? And how dare you be so rude … where I come from…”, the stranger had lost his momentum and now starts rambling about gentlemanly behavior and wounded honor.

A cold flow of air from the door reminds Roger about his wet yet unattended cock. His previous outbreak had surprised no one more than himself, but it had been one hell of a day and this man interrupted it’s all redeeming conclusion. So Roger takes a deep breath and starts another attack.

“You accuse ME of being rude? After such an entry? Are you out of your mind? Now that I think about it, I take back that last question. Any man breaking into your room in the middle of the night wearing an old pillow case over his head has to be insane. Why even hide your face if you still have the same clothes on, I saw you in just minutes ago? I know who you are Mr. Marsh and if you don’t leave my wife and me alone right now, I might channel my own “otherworldly presence” and show you what Sebastians true heir is made of!”

The letters remains completely dissipate as Roger finishes his threat. For a second the fireplace seems to glow strangely at that, but none of the rooms inhabitants have eyes for the fire. Mr. Marsh takes the pillow case of, turns his head to the ground and avoids Rogers gaze. Hearing Roger talk like that put Becky right back in the mood. Still on the floor she crawls over to Roger and looks up at her husband. An adoration in her eyes she never felt let alone showed before.

“I-I am sorry Mr. Carmine, Sir. I’ll leave right n-n-now. I beg your pardon for the interruption. P-please have a good night. We can talk about that letter tomorrow if you prefer, that won’t be a probl-“, the now unmasked man is interrupted by a stare he can feel on his downturned head.

“We’ll talk about my letter when and if I decide to ask you about it. I do not owe you anything and the patruus correspondence is not for your eyes. Am I understood?”

“Y-y-yes of course, Sir. Please excus-“

“You are excused, I got husbandly duties to attend.”, Roger declares and turns his eyes downward to his wife.

On her knees, as she belongs.