Clara fingered the letter from her father again, as the carriage steadily jostled forward. With desperation, her hips bucked for more. “No!” she screamed as she tried to squirm away. She turned her head to the side and refused to cry. He eventually gave in to yelling coarse words at her, which she would just laugh at. Yet now at age 22, the carriage that brought her closer to Lord Ogert with each minute felt like a black hearse to her inevitable death. “Then take off that gown and have me,” he said. A week later, her father had informed her through the letter that she was engaged to Lord Ogert. It was a tiny dot on the horizon. her captor had finished taking his clothes off, revealing an erect and stiff penis. Her breasts swung as he pumped into her from behind, with such force that she occasionally gasped. She had not had anything to eat since noon yesterday. It was over. And the female escort turned out to be his once-loved Claudia.
