The golden chain stopping him from removing your breast binding and your pleas to spare them cause little hesitation to the lizard creature and his strong arms flex, tearing through the strips of cloth on the second attempt. “I have robes left over from my harems. They are nicer than these,” he explains as he tosses them aside. Now his hands moves down, the tips of the claws gripping your improvised skirt at the hem and tugging slightly, but this time he pauses, “This fabric is nice, but my silk is finer. I do not much care how I get what I want, as long as I get it,” he begins to pull your skirt down, still pondering on whether or not to spare it.