Reeled in and Ensnared by a devious wench

“Really Hargreaves this is quite intolerable” I railed at my butler as yet another desperate mother brought her ugly mean spirited daughter to meet me. The pretexts were quite ludicrous, but for some reason I was seen as quite the catch, an unmarried titled gentleman with a country estate, town house, his own hair and teeth and quite able to walk unaided being it seemed quite an extraordinary rarity.

I used my usual charm and wit, “Lady Charringfold what a delight!” I simpered, “How kind of you to drag yourself away from your gardeners potting shed and indeed his prong and grace us with your presence.”

“I thought you should meet my daughter Sabrina,” she said ignoring my barbs.

“Ah, bit flat chested for me,” I admitted, “And plain, like the Mona Lisa with the beak of a Toucan.”

“Oh Lord Mannington what a whit you are,” she laughed while supressing the urge to strike me down.

“Oh well Sabrina, down to business,” I joked, “Do you give head, do you do anal, do you charge by the hour or.”

“Mama this is quite intolerable,” she replied, “I should rather enter a monastery than marry such a brute.”

I laughed, ugly and stupid. “What with all those repressed monks, I bet you would!, they’d ravish you till your insides were red raw in an instant you stupid girl!”

“I meant Nunnery,” she snapped and blushed at her mistake.

Lady Charringfold finally succumbed to her rising anger and ordered, “Sabrina, you stupid girl, can you not see he seeks to humiliate you!”

“Sabrina, were you born stupid or have you spent the last sixteen years practising?” I enquired.

“Nineteen,” she replied, “And yes I must have been stupid to let Mama convince me to visit you.”

“Oh well, honesty has it’s own virtue,” I agreed, “I suppose I should make a cursory inspection of your parts to ensure you are pure, place your robes on the chair and display your parts for me there’s a good girl.

“I shall do no such thing, you repulse me sir,” she retorted, “I should fight to my last breath to resist you.”

“Fine words,” I agreed, “But with my fingers up your ah, innards you would see things differently, honour gone you would beg me to wed you.”

“I should sooner die,” she exclaimed.

“Really” I asked as I stepped forward and grasped her around her waist with my right arm. I lofted her skirts and under skirts with my left hand and unerringly pressed my thumb against her womb entry and sought the tender spot with my index finger.

“No please!” she pleaded but I pressed harder and in an instant my thumb was inside her and her cavern was moistening rapidly.