Isabela feigns a smile of innocence but graces the larger woman with a hooded, knowing once over.
“Do you quiver at the thought of being
manhandled, my dear Lady Man Hands?”
The way her lips part into an indignant sneer makes
it clear that she’s not amused. However, the faint pink
blotches forming on either cheek betray her – clearly,
Isabela’s words have hit some kind of mark.
"I only quiver at the thought of throttling you for
your insolence. Do you ever allow yourself to
think outside the realm of your sexual deviance,
or is that simply too much to ask?“