That she wasn't very good did near enough nothing to dampen Quentin's almighty arousal. His pleasure was caused by her submission, the pain in her eyes and the simple knowledge that he had a former-noble knelt before him at his beck and call. He'd not felt quite so pent up in a long while, and it was more than just because she was the perfect body. It was a mixture of her shame, her smashed pride, and the ease with which he manipulated her into the position. It was the simple knowledge of what had gone before and would come after that excited him; the blowjob was just a means to release a little of that excitement.<br/><br/>"Relax your throat. The tenser you are, the more you're going to gag; and there's a lot of cock left for you to choke down, if you don't know how to do it. Remember your place, slut, kneeling there and doing as I say... You enjoy this, and you will get so much more if you let your mouth relax and focus on pushing forward... On guzzling every last inch."<br/><br/>The instruction was both necessary, and enjoyable... He thrilled at having her hear his coarse, unfiltered language poisoning her usually precious, protected ears. Every time she felt shame, he felt pleasure. When she hurt he grinned, and when she cried he laughed.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>