As he arrived to come to bed she would always offer to stay, her voice sometimes low and lustful, desirous to have him join her, other times soft and ...opeful, always desperate to be allowed to stay.However, each night he would politely refuse and with a half smirking pout she would slink back to her room, sauntering nude to her own bed, her massive bust and full equipment bouncing slightly with each decidedly pronounced step, silently begging for his attention.She would prepare his baths, clean. "I have clean cloths for you." She said in the way of greeting. The Chiurgeon must have told everyone I was bleeding. "and fresh water for you to wash." I heard the doors bar scrap locked as she entered. She busied herself around the room, making a fire, sweeping and straighting what little there was."Can you tell me anything? Where am I? Who holds me? Have they contacted my father yet? Anything?"She shook her head but whispered, "They won't be contacting your father." She placed fresh towels. More

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