"Hoh, what's this?" he hummed in harmony with Viola's soft gasp. "Sensitive are we?"<br/><br/>His thumb slid even deeper between bodice and breast, the fabric tightening around his thick, intruding digit which pinched and pressed into her skin. His other four fingers began clawing teasingly down from her collarbone, as if he might pry her brassiere off completely if she didn't protest or resist.<br/><br/>"Have you been trained, I wonder?" he asked her and himself, eyes gazing down at her cleavage as his fingers teased at the hem of her bra. "Or, were you simply used and misused until you enjoyed it?"<br/><br/>Poor Viola couldn't possibly have asked to be waylayed by bandits, to be attacked and captured and raped and sold off like she was. But for all these tragedies she was sultry, cooing with sensuous energy from his mere gaze while shivering from his gentle touch. Many slaves, especially proud adventurers, had to be broken before they could be remade better, more enlightened. Did Viola?