Good ol' Ciara.
Ciara, the retarded traditional smelly Scottish slut, shrieked when I suddenly tore the night dress from her body, the pieces of silken material floating uselessly to the floor at her feet. Jolting then, she gasped, when one of my hands went straight between her legs. "No." She struggled, trying to twist out of his grip. "Stop!"
"You're prettier than your voice suggests" He told her, one arm tightening around her waist and holding her tightly against his own hard body while the other hand moved between her legs, a finger pushing against her. "Nicer. More of a lady, just like your whore of a mother"
Clara tried to sink away from me, bending her knees, but she couldn't go anywhere with my arm around her waist holding her upright and against my body. "Stop."
"You can stop pretending." I growled, and she flinched when I began rubbing meself against her arse, so that she could feel just how hard and massive I was. "I sent everyone away. I won't tell anybody; nobody has to know."
"Let me go!" putting as much force as she could behind her words, Clara tried again to get free, "I don't want you!"
She flinched again when my teeth nipped at her ear and I let out another snarl as she heard me fumbling with my pants. Clara gave a gasp then when I suddenly threw her facedown onto the bed, the force of it just about knocking the breath from her lungs. She didn't even have time to push herself up to turn and face me when I followed her, the bed dipping behind her a moment before she felt my weight move over her.
Struggling, Clara tried to rise, but found herself pinned. My massive hands moved down her thigh to her knee an instant before I yanked it up and to the side, opening her for myself.
"No no no no no!" Clara protested vehemently, hands pushing desperately, trying to make me let her go, "Let go."