Esfelt took the same kind of pleasure from the boy's diverted gaze as he did the avoiding eyes of maidens when their tried not to see their immediate, fleshy future. Like those girls, Shy was convinced to focus when his fingers made a single, short sound. It moved for her when she came like a pet, filling to make itself better. It was not a pets's eyes nearing him now. She he feel sympathy when she held on to this conversation about her continued brandishing in and before battle? It made it delicious, of course, that she was forced to say it with his cock's belly resting on her cheek.<br/><br/>Esfelt's fingers slid out of her short hair when she moved away. It was disappointing, but it was also unavoidable, he supposed. She laid prettily on the covered ground, and he wondered if it'd simply just be the same as any woman he could remember having like that. He never minded trying their more exotic places, and some whores preferred it when they had the choice. Esfelt listened to her speak, where she'd felled herself. While she said her wishes, his hand was around the heat her face had left on his eager weapon. It would seem, as he went about sharpening the bludgeoning thing, that she was not convincing him in either direction.<br/><br/>He thought he should he a commander then, but Shy had the great audacity to be compelling in a way the Silverum general had not discovered since some unfair punishment from a bloody witch. Esftelt told himself that he'd been fair to thousands of other men before. Perhaps there was some shame in it, but he used it the way the boy Silverum had used it, when he'd been set on girls to learn them, too, by his father. His thumb shaved a pearl of appreciation off the slit on its head.<br/><br/>"And what if this is courtship?" he asked, calmly, even though his hand was becoming less collected. "Have you known enough knight to aspiring relationships to be a connoisseur, now?" It was cruel, and Esfelt didn't like it, but it seemed the fault to duty was fueling some furnace in his hardness. "Maybe I'll compliment you according to your skills, and that's why you're on my floor?" This return to form seemed to come at a high price. The knight was still intent on paying. "Do you prefer men, Shy?" he posed as his hand hammered. Why did tormenting the youngling feel so good? Sitting on her pride and leashing her tongue. It was all such an infernal decadence. To be polite, Esfelt had been made to raid the rooms of a castle once, and some of them had untouched girls for him, placed there to appease the intruders - a petition for mercy. His property had been cascading in maiden blood by the end, and he'd felt immortal as he took their deeds to deliver to the king.<br/><br/>This was something like that. How on earth could it be, when all there was was this boy, who'd barely touched him? He looked her in the eyes for all of this. Esfelt lost himself, but only sighed when a sickening pleasure ripped through him, stealing his strength and tension. The lines laid richly on the floor and Shy's leg. "I suppose I've taught you enough things for today." he said at last, after having stewed Shy in another bout of hard silence. He at least let her rise to her knees until he said his next thing. "But would you clean this mess up, that you made?" he asked. The boy could think and react over that however she wanted. "I've seen your skills with your hands, though. Do you mind not using them for this?"<br/><br/>On the horizon for her, escape. But it was at the price of licking seed by her commander's feet.