No

You stand still. You don't want to remove your clothing, but you don't want to defy Kingsale either. Kingsale sighs and leans in close, pressing his chest and hips into your back and backside. You can clearly feel a large, firm bulge against your ass.

"Your resistance is so charming. I knew you'd be fun" he says "What's the fun in hunting the stag that does not run, eh?"

He drops the sponge back into the bowl and takes a bottle of scented oil, applying a liberal amount to his hands. He then begins to run his hands all over your back and chest. He murmurs appreciatively "Such a fine figure. House servants are so scrawny, they don't do enough hard work to give make them real men." he says.

The sensation of Kingsale's hands running over your body is amazing. The oil removes all friction and the gentle but firm pressure of his fingers explore the contours of your muscles. His hands move over your shoulders and down your back, the tips of his fingers diving below the waistband of your trousers to firmly grasp your buttock.

"It's time, I think, to spear the stag, don't you agree?" he says, sliding your trousers down. With the fabric gone, you can now feel the hot head of his fully erect cock slide against your crack. With his fingers he spreads more oil across your hole before pushing inside.

"Good and tight" he says approvingly.

"Please don't..." you whisper. He hushes you.

"Now now, resistance is amusing to a point, but defiance will make me cross." says Kingsale. He firmly grasps your hips and with minimal effort, pushes the tip of his cock into your ass. You gasp as your ass reels against the intrusion, spasms of aching pain radiating through to your gut.

"Very tight indeed" says Kingsale "Relax, it will hurt less" he instructs.

You take a deep breath and try to allow the nobles cock inside you. Bearing down, you feel the pressure ease. "That's it, nice and easy" says Kingsale, sliding further into your ass. He begins to pump, rhythmically, fucking your ass. He goes slow and easy at first, but quickly builds to a frenzied crescendo, grunting as he releases himself inside you. Panting, he withdraws.

Without another word, he retires to bed.