The commotion brings a crowd.

The slapping, the grunting, the shouting, and occasional feminine squeal (mostly from Clara) attracts the ears of more than a couple villagers, many of them ones who had witnessed the travelers' previous lewd display.

Clara continues to slap away ineffectually at Hunk's sculpted and now bright red ass, doing little more than tiring herself out and heating Hilda and herself up. She's shucked off her shirt and hung both it and her cap up on a nearby wooden post. She's still wearing her boots, pants, and a white tank top. Well, it used to be white. She's sweated through the top half of it, unintentionally letting everyone get a glimpse of her bra underneath.

"Had enough?" She gasps again.

The growing crowd of mostly women all murmur and giggle as they drink in the sight of poor Hunk strapped in a splayed out. Clara is too focused on her work to notice them.

"That poor man..."

"Oooooh, I just want to take him home and nurse him back to health..."

"Lock him up with me! I'll get him to talk... or at least scream."

Hunk squirms in embarrassment, not wanting to be the spectacle for yet another crowd. The shame of it all has robbed the shy baron of his voice.

Clara frowns, not seeing his nod from her position at his rear. "Fine," she says curtly as she fans herself again, offering brief flashes of her very hairy and aromatic armpits. She tugs at her flimsy top, unintentionally tearing it a little like wet tissue paper. "I guess we'll move on to something a little... nastier."