Starved Beast. Part 7

I stepped forward. I could smell her. The scent of a rich lady's flesh is bracing and sensuous and I could already sense it and smell it: pungent, with the whiff of sandalwood stirred with slow burning sulfur.

"Take off your clothes," I hissed through gaps in my teeth, leaning forward and speaking with the weight of authority and not as an ogre, and she rose awkwardly to her feet and limped hastily away, retreating from me again, and then she turned despairingly, her eyes widening, knowing that the door was locked and that she couldn't escape.

"No! Please no!"

"I want you naked. I want to look at you, and when you are, I'm going to fuck you."

"Oh God! Please no!"

Her arms tucked up defensively in front of her chest, folded and angled into the shape of a cross.

I liked that. She was turning me on. I imagined her breasts and I imagined her ass. Soon I'd have her out of her dress and out of her underthings and she'd be stretched out and bent down, an