Although she wore a form-fitting catsuit, 'becca may as well have been completely nude. The attached cuffs and collar were made of some of the best leather she had ever worn, but the rest of the catsuit was simply a thin mesh material. A traditional ball gag completed the willing slave's look of vulnerability.
When Wolf Feather had brought her down to the medieval dungeon, He had stood against the wall outside her cell, watching her struggle futilely against the four large weights which left her spread-eagle on the dirty, damp, cold, stone floor. Each leather cuff's large D-ring had been padlocked to a larger D-ring embedded in a large block of cement which must have weighed at least one hundred pounds. Even though the slave knew that even just budging one of the cement blocks would be a futile effort, she still tried to "put on a show" for Him, struggling until she was breathless with a thin sheen of sweat upon her and a dull ache in her extended arm and leg muscles.
Then, He had left. No words, no gestures, no smiles, no hints as to what He had planned for her. He had just simply left.
Interestingly, the door to the dungeon cell was left ajar, perhaps to "taunt" the captive into thinking that perhaps she could somehow escape. yet knowing the absolute inability to escape from her current predicament, 'becca had remained passive, trying to occupy her mind with various things as time passed slowly - never had she been left alone for so long before while in service to Wolf Feather.
Closing her eyes, 'becca had visions of past adventures with her Master. Standing atop Sacré-Cœur, the strap-in vibrator buzzing mercilessly as she tried to keep from moaning her passion aloud as she and Wolf Feather enjoyed the Parisian cityscape... Dressed as a bride with her arms secured to a pair of bolts in the cliff as the waterfall fell upon her and Wolf Feather took pictures of her from the shore... Playing Onyx together and purposely opting to Work Off the Rent in hopes that she would be restrained in some manner... Sitting in her Master's lap as T/they visited various BDSM Web sites in search of the perfect whip...
Finally, just when she was about to fall asleep, a soft clicking sound caught 'becca's ears. It seemed to be rather rhythmic, and growing slightly louder as if approaching her. Then other soft clicking sounds joined in, also growing slightly louder. Yet it was not the clicking of boots or other footwear, leaving the slave quite bewildered.
Soon, however, her bewilderment was cast aside, as a wolf came into view. Six other wolves followed the first, all with gray fur; the leader had a thin streak of white running from the tip of the nose back to the crown of the head. With a purpose, the leading wolf nosed open the door and trotted directly into the cell, with the others following closely behind.
