The glare of death just makes the Baron laugh softly, his length twitching in your mouth and throat as his balls rub against your chin.  "Mmmm, that's more like it, my dear..."  Still holding you by the hair, his other hand reaches down and begins groping your chest.  Needless to say, he's not doing it to gratify you in any way; his rough manhandling of your breasts through your clothing makes it all too clear he considers your body a toy for his own pleasure.