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. . FoxHunt 2b - 2014.0206.1744

_Adult animal roleplay characters, all text and situation (c)2014 Kevin Foxboy.

Series, LARP, Dominance/submission, roleplay, consent, drugs, human_

_I was told to talk about my LARP as a dog at the Main Line Hunt Club,

and especially what I knew about our current hunt's vixen, Alice. I'm

an old guy, over 50, and I've been a dog part-time here for a few decades._

I've got a job outside, in Vanilla-land. Those're the people who only know

about plain-vanilla sex. Now there is vanilla kink, but they think it's

just Skinemax movies. There are also all the Gay and Bi people, but they

just keep to themselves and keep it quiet.

I've been here so long I know a lot of the secrets, including the stuff

the current owners don't want the cops to know. I've helped Master Alfonse

with the stables, because I'm willing to sleep in the hayloft and care for

the animal horses the Club uses for foxhunts.

Uhm, about that... I mean a sexy young woman dresses up in a furry costume

and runs through the woods while we chase her along a particular path. There

are five main routes around the Estate and several variations.

Those of us roleplaying foxes or hunting dogs are submissives under the

Safe Sane and Consensual Guidelines to Adult BDSM Roleplay. That means we've

all signed contracts witnessed and all legal, and we go around in skimpy

bikinis while wearing leather collars and leashes, wrist and ankle cuffs.

Think Hefner's mansion with a bondage theme.

We've agreed to act as domestic servants, personal servants, animal pets,

and bed servants. Some of us go deeper and actually give up our lives and

property to the Estate. I started this lifestyle around thirty years ago,

and after about five years of part-time table waiting and housecleaning I

decided to live at the Estate.

I'm basically an employee, getting free room and board, including meals.

The way our accountant (who lives here, and almost always wears his Badger

fursuit) worked it out, our salaries have major pre-tax deductions for the

Club and a small cottage as our primary residences.

I won't bore you with all the stuff we do to reduce our take-home pay. Since

it's illegal in the United States to keep people as property, we have to sign

tax returns and do annoying Vanilla stuff. Even the ones like me who *want*

to be owned can't do it legally.

---

Anyway, the story I'm telling now is about one of my last Hunts before I

became a House Dog. I was dressed as a Dalmation while chasing Alice's

vixen tail. It's actually a different Alice than I chased when I was young.

One of our frequent guests has rented me over the weekend, and I'm told She

wants to know about my younger days.

Our Hunt had been aborted just about at the fifth turn, because the soft

ground showed tyre marks and an Alice-sized plot of grass was flattened.

It looked like our quarry had been vixen-napped, and I'd been clumsy by

briefly losing my left ballet slipper.

The paying guests had been politely escorted the short distance back to the

Lounge, and I was a scared dog because I hadn't been keeping up. I thought

it was my bad behavior that had ended the Hunt, but of course I was just

an old dog and my foolishness wasn't worth it.

What *was* worth the abort was Alice wasn't doing her part, and Club property

is valued, by the time the Masters and Mistresses take to enjoy it. If Alice

was just goofing off she'd be in a lot of trouble, and I've frankly enjoyed

chaining her wrists and using the soft whip on her lovely rump and thighs.

I also enjoy a good whipping myself, I feel so invigorated after a proper

rump-warming. I wasn't sure what to call this chapter, that fits in after

Fox Hunt 2, but wasn't talked about till later. So I used letter 'b' because

you know, "2b or not 2b is the question..."

---

Meanwhile in the Hunt Club's Taxidermy Shed, Alice was lying tied down wearing

practically nothing. She'd been running as a vixen, with the dull red fur leg

and arm costume, the excitingly-anchored fake tail, and the skimpy bikini

bottom and bra, her middle exposed for our Guests' enjoyment.

The Master who'd shot her with an animal tranquiliser dart had chased her to

make her blood flow to her brain, and she'd gotten clumsy and fallen. In the

grass her fur didn't get muddy, and he'd made her run there to avoid damaging

anything important.

Then he'd tossed her heaving body over his shoulder and taken her to one of

the Club's electric bikes. Alice has been tranked before, as a captured vixen,

and I've carried her. She's got a yummy body. And we make sure she's in top

physical condition by running her as well as, uh...

Demonstrating her animal magnetism. That's a good way to put it. In the shed

the Master had tied her quite securely by the wrist and ankle, as well as a

bit loosely around her neck. She'd have trouble untying the collar even with

both hands, and now she was awake but still a bit foggy in the mind.

After stroking the bound woman a little, the Master had undone the Velcro

holding the costume, and removed the fur from Alice's arms and legs. He left

the vixen snout mask on her, and began fondling her fur-trimmed bra. He must

have felt the battery pack for her tracker and unplugged it.

---

Now I don't know how many women you've tied down and explored after they've

gotten slightly sweaty from running. I've heard it said that men sweat, women

perspire, and ladies glow. I dunno if the Victorian Era needed euphemisms,

but I know they covered their furniture because bare legs were uncivilised.

I don't know why carpenters bothered to make them, especially decorated, just

to cover them.

I happen to like bare legs, especially on females. Now I'd like to mention

that this Master was HuntMaster Alphonse's younger brother, and he'd wanted

to make Master Alphonse look bad for years. He figured that capturing and

degrading Alice was a good way to start.

He knew how to treat submissives, of any gender. Now he was going to force

Alice to stop fighting him and give herself to him. He was going to own her

so thoroughly she'd switch her allegiance to him. Alice wasn't in heat, but

he was going to force that as well.

Now before you get squicked, remember we're all adults in this story (although

many guests are in families and I've waited tables and cleaned rooms around

children, everyone's dressed decently. Even the subbes and subs, you've seen

bikini-clad nubile women, and hunky bare-chested men with skimpy Speedos.)

Alice had signed the submission contract and given up the right to decide who

carries her off, ties her down, strips her and fondles her. This Master had

her dizzy while he injected her with mild party drugs to keep her happy and

make her lose her ability to judge what he did to her.

---

Again, please don't get squicked. Alice consented in writing to this lifestyle

a few years ago and it includes the relaxation and friendliness drugs. Look,

ravers take MDMA *on purpose* and people take the deliriants because they

*like* the feeling.

Thirty years ago when I started this lifestyle I was a young adult and had a

bit of trouble not jumping on the sexy almost-nude women. I also felt them up

and groped them, and they didn't object except to me being clumsy. Not the

actual fondling and sex.

To keep out of trouble, I took the scopalomine deliriants, MDMA party pills,

selective-serotonin-reuptake inhibitors, and hypnotics. I felt dizzy and not

impulsive, friendly and trusting, so I was willing to accept their instruc-

tion on my new lifestyle.

I also took the 'sip-ro' as they called it. I'm not sure it was cyproterone

acetate, used in Depro-Provera to chemically castrate sex offenders. I did

go limp for awhile and lose interest in jumping the yummy female submissives.

Since then I only take enough to keep me from being aggressive with the other

male subs. I sleep with three other nude males in a big cage, all spooned up

together even when it's warm, cause it feels good and comfy. None of us gets

hard or fights with our cagemates.

However, my muscles are firm from the running and domestic work, and I'm quite

able to pleasure the women who rent me, as well as the subbes I'm ordered to

perform with for free person's entertainment. Whatever it is I'm taking is in

all the submissives' food and water, so we're all quite friendly and willing

to obey.

---

Sorry if you're mad or just bored at my digression. But since Alice is a woman

she takes the submission drugs too, and some experimental stuff not approved

by the USA government. What it does is reduce her body reactions every month,

so she doesn't waste energy getting ready to be pregnant.

None of the females gets hot flashes as they age, and they don't get bloated

or cranky either. The treatment evens out their hormone production, and that

makes them much more willing to allow men to touch, hug, hold, and caress

them. They also become much more willing to accept intimacy.

Alice hadn't fought being tied down since she started taking the submission

training. She likes to struggle and pull on her bondage, just to enjoy the

delicious feeling of restraint. I heartily agree.

I just thought y'all deserve some background. This is all consensual roleplay,

and if you don't understand the idea of 'consensual non-consent' let me give

a vanilla-land example.

If you agree to go to a movie with friends, and they want to see one you don't

care about, but you go anyway, then you just put aside your objections. You

consented to the outing even if you dislike some aspect.

Now I know we're not talking about movies here, but being tied down and groped.

But Alice consented to the roleplay *including* the groping and being forced.

The training just gets her in the proper mood to accept it.

we call it 'sub space' and it's not /Star Trek/ science fiction. We mean 'sub-

missive'. It's very relaxing when you know you can trust someone to dominate

you, and make decisions for you. We're adults, not babies; babyplay is a whole

other fetish.

---

In the Hunt Club back office, HuntMaster Alphonse sat enjoying his old dog. I

was curled into the office desk footwell. I'd been licking his boots -- after

he'd stepped through the rinse -- and I wasn't licking mud, just the leather.

After all, people generally don't force their animal dogs to lick mud, and I

wasn't a captured enemy being punished. I was scared because I'm old and I

couldn't keep up with the morning's foxhunt, even with aspirin for the joint

pain.

Master Alphonse wasn't being cruel. He knows I actually like licking boots,

because I'm just *that* submissive. I don't even need the drugs anymore.

Three free people had taken turns with their licker, as Master Ernest and

Mistress Roberta had used my human tongue as well.

They actually unsnapped my dog snout, leaving the mask on. I don't really

have a long enough tongue to get past the snout and all over the boots, so

we had to cheat a little.

If you've never had a dominant woman grip your collar and unsnap your snout,

it's quite a thrill for an old dog like me. She told me She wasn't angry with

me, just the situation. Someone may have vixen-napped our Alice, and that was

not part of the morning roleplay.

I truly love a good domination, and I saw Master Ernest stride in carrying

his riding crop. He'd been smacking his animal horse's rump a bit to keep

him trotting along. Maybe the gelding likes it, I know I do. Which is why

I didn't whimper when my snout came off and Master Ernest stroked my furry

rump.

I was still in the Dalmation suit, and it's expensive, so I knew they weren't

going to beat me. I was happy enough to lick Master Ernest's boots, and I do

it the same way I lick a Dominant's feet: first the right outer side from toe

to heel, then the right inner side, left inner side, left outer side.

I've seen the animal dogs the Estate keeps, and DogMaster Richards trains

them to lick. He's a Dominant, not role-playing a dog, he trains animal dogs.

I first met Alice when I was young and a trainer leashed me and led me to the

dog pens. She was being a Collie bitch, on her hands and knees wearing cloth,

not a fursuit.

Sorry if I'm jumping around, I'm just talking as I remember situations. I

never claim to be a good storyteller. I was telling my cagemates the story,

and they stopped me to have me make clear that the woman Alice I met when

I was young has of course grown up as I have.

And this new Alice with the yummy young body (yes, even at fifty after decades

of taking the anti-manhood treatment to deeply enjoy my submission, I know

what a yummy she is) isn't her daughter, she's a younger cousine.

---

Meanwhile in the taxonomy shed, Master Barusa had young Alice Vixen tied down

and stripped. He didn't want to damage the fursuit because it wasn't his or

Alphonse's, and his disagreement was with his brother, not the Hunt Club.

Master also simply wanted to dominate Alice, and because he was an undamaged

Dominant while she was a sexy subbe, he had a sexual interest in her as well.

Now to be clear, Domination isn't only for sex, and sex doesn't need Domina-

tion. It's just more fun when they're combined.

Alice liked a good Domination session. She was still a bit groggy from the

trank, and the injection made her dizzy and accept him. She was still able

to resist, and fought the ropes because he hadn't rented her, and she was

supposed to be outside running as a vixen.

She remembered rounding the fifth turn, then the surprise of running over the

squishy ground. She knew there was swampy land, but thought it was further

south. Actually Master Barusa had tricked her by moving the trail markers to

the swampy alternative.

Now, kindly imagine a young adult woman with no lines on her tanned skin. She

sunbathes nude except for pasties on her sensitive nipples and a skimpy g-

string over her cunt and anus. Even her pubic hair is revealed, and that firm

rump is bare.

Master had rope loops around her ankles and wrists, because as a vixen she'd

been told to remove her leather cuffs. Even her collar lay on her dog bed in

the stables. It had been scary at first to remove them, because Alice was so

used to the loving caress of the leather on her skin.

Well, she also sunbathes without her leather, although if you look closely

you'll see the marks where she's a little paler. Most of her work outside

is in leather, and she doesn't really do nothing when she suns. She's often

on a rope leash around some body part while men and women enjoy seeing her

otherwise nude flesh.

---

So it wasn't unusual for Alice to feel rope loosely around her neck. Master

Barusa had it tight enough to feel like a collar, not just hanging loosely

like a free woman's necklace. She could tilt her head and still swallow

easily.

Which was something Master ordered, to force her to feel the limits of her

bondage. He was letting her get used to his treatment, as well as letting

the friendliness overtake her. He knew that eventually the trainers would

remember the shed, and look for her.

But he also knew the roleplay, and that Alice was submissive. He was domin-

ating her, perfectly within his rights. He wasn't going to mark her perma-

nently. He wanted to force her to not only accept him sexually but to hap-

pily participate.

Now, Alice was a lusty young woman, partly from outside but mostly because

of her subbe training. Remember her body was affected by role-play drugs so

she wouldn't get pregnant, and everyone's tested to avoid disease. Even free

people can't just wander in off the street and start an orgy. We're not

prostitutes.

Once she admitted to herself she was held, she only resisted to please her

captor. Actually it was a lot like what we'd do to her if she lost the hunt,

so Alice was looking forward to the exercise. Both her mind and especially

her luscious body.

The sweat from running in the fursuit was cooling her as it evaporated, and

Master looked over the bound beauty with appreciation. He'd removed her fake

fur legs and arms, and he'd tied each wrist and ankle a second time before

slipping the fur off each limb.

Alice had never been released. She always had five ropes on her, and sometimes

a sixth. Master had put them on her tighter as she awoke and tested her new

limits, but she still wasn't stretched, just spread out lewdly and inescap-

ably.

She could no longer risk falling off the work table, she was tied too tightly.

Her body was stretched comfortably, not even to its limits, and she lay there

sweaty and exposed. I'm sure you get the image, go ahead and enjoy.

The furry bra and panties still kept her nominally decent. She giggled and

wiggled as Master Barusa applied some lotion all over her exposed skin, and

that included the parts of her arms and legs touching the table. He rubbed

it in and Alice drew in her breath as the warmness began.

Master knew she'd been running, because he'd watched her flip her fake tail

on the Hunt trail. He knew it'd hurt her if her muscles cramped, and although

she was struggling in the ropes she wasn't nearly able to loosen any, much

less escape.

Master enjoyed her useless struggles. The Domination lotion was a fun addition

to his arsenal, warming his bound playtoy and making her docile. Soon enough

she'd feel the warmth spread from her skin, deeper into her heating body and

forcing her mind to enjoy the growing warmth from her groin.

---

So, three free people and a submissive old guy dressed as a dog. I was licking

three pairs of rinsed boots, and the Dominants had been careful to stop at

the bootcleaner submissives outside. It really doesn't take that long to sit

and let a sub run your bootsoles over a dull iron blade to remove mud and

trail dirt.

In fact, that's where the subbes work the pump handle and direct a water

stream over the leather, being careful not to splash the trousers. They

look at the cuffs while they kneel, and brush the dirt down. If there's

already mud on the cuffs, a wet-brush removes it and they pat you dry.

Even I had a go at the subbes. I mean, they removed the ballet slipeprs and

rinsed my muddy left foot, then slid an indoor pair on me. I wasn't allowed

to track mud into the house, even as a dog.

So okay, far too much detail, I do tend to go on. Me licking boots, the sides

and risers, not the soles. Actually, they'd been washed and rinsed, and so

are the floors, so it wasn't that dirty. To be perfectly honest, I *wanted*

to lick the undersides, and frankly I've done it when the boots are just

rinsed.

So okay, I'm kinky. C'mon to the Main Line Hunt Club Estate, watch several

male subs and female subbes on our knees almost nude, wearing collars,

leashes, wrist and ankle cuffs. Oh, mostly we wear skimpy g-strings covering

our groins and the females' breasts.

But they're roughly-woven unbleached linen, designed to hold us up and out.

Sometimes we wear actual vanilla-skimpy swimsuits or bikinis. If you rent us

we'll remove even that and let you see totally nude adults. As domestic ser-

vants we have g-strings to control swinging, and the restaurant staff is more

covered.

After I'd licked boots Master Ernest rubbed my costumed rump with his riding

crop and I enjoyed it. You may not know how good a rump-rub feels, and I even

enjoy a mild warming. Smack my gluteals to a nice rosy red and I'll follow

you anywhere...

I couldn't help whining in pleasure. I was still in dog space, glad the free

people weren't angry. At least at me, I knew I was still in trouble for poor

performance in the hunt. But I'm over fifty years old, and my running days

were over. I sometimes cry at night, curled up in my dog bed. I wish I was

more active, to serve better.

As a dog I wasn't allowed to speak like a human, so I couldn't tell Master I'd

seen the tracker light go off. I did toss my head over to the board and whim-

per, and after I'd licked Mistress hadn't put the Dalmation snout back on me.

She asked me what I meant, and of course I just lay there tilting my head. I

was a good boy. Mistress Roberta laughed and stroked my head. She knew I was

still deep in dog space, but animal dogs are aware of strange sounds or scents,

and even licking your ankles they poke you with their cold noses to point you

to investigate.

She asked Master Alphonse to let me out of the footwell. There's actually a

trick, there's a small door six inches off the floor that sneaks back under

the stairs to the second floor sleeping rooms. A low run leads to a room with

dog cages for submissives and couches for free people to enjoy us.

I mean the stairs are for guests to get to their rooms, not that dogs go up

in the run. It just feeds on the ground floor into the original farmhouse.

The back office and the meeting room are add-ons, and they blocked an original

window to put in the stairs. The whole second floor is an addition.

Mistress Roberta borrowed me from Master Alphonse and took my leash. I knew

that meant I was to follow Her, and She led me out of the footwell around His

boots. I crawled on all fours because I was still a dog.

The dog fur has knee pads, and I had my indoor slippers and hand mittens. I

could hold a doorknob, but I stayed on all fours and wiggled my rump. The

Dalmation tail waved around, and all three Dominants enjoyed my skill. I was

glad, although I wiggled to make the anchor move inside me and give me a

thrill.

---

I like to change scenes so y'all remember me in the farmhouse and Alice in

the taxidermy shed. Master Barusa had her tied spread out, removed the fur

arms and legs, took her vixen snout but left the mask on her. He began to

feel his way up her lovely body, and she was trying to struggle to amuse him.

Actually she knew she was well restrained, and they both knew she enjoyed

it rather a lot, so it was just pretense. He didn't really get angry, but

he slapped her middle and ordered her quiet. To make the point, Master took

a rather large white ball gag, made her look, and forced it into her mouth

by holding her nose closed.

Alice tried to refuse her captor. It wasn't the role-play she'd agreed to

that morning. But tied down she couldn't really fight him, even trying to

move her head away from his grip. Master kept his grip with his right hand

and slapped her middle again with his left.

Alice got the message and obeyed. She opened her mouth to breathe, and got

a nice gulp before he forced the ball into her. He held her nose until her

eyes got wide and she whimpered. He had won the play fight.

As a reward for submitting to him, Master Barusa let Alice breathe as he felt

his way down her chin, her lovely throat held by rope, her shoulders and chest.

He paused at her mounds, still held towards him like offerings by the furry

bra.

He wasn't a perv, and it wasn't a quick surreptitious grope. He was quite

used to fondling women and he'd given the injections enough time to work

on her. Alice relaxed and let the Master enjoy her body. He was stroking

her gently, knowing she was held and helpless.

His hands expertly curled over the tops of her breasts, stroking the blood

toward her nipples. He slipped his fingers under the fur and caressed the

outer sides of her female body. He was in no hurry to take her, and his slow

tour of Alice's mammaries induced her to give in to the warm feeling... of

being felt.

Master Barusa's hands slid under her mounds and lifted them from the bra. Her

areoles showed themselves as he continued caressing her cleavage, stroking

the flesh and making Alice's breathing quicken. He felt the way the bra straps

came around her chest, under her breasts, fed through the triangles holding

her luscious orbs, took a twist around the clasp between them then slipped

saucily back through the fur-covered rough cloth to her shoulders and around

her neck.

His skilled fingers followed the path. He didn't need to look down, and Alice

couldn't meet his eyes. She was a submissive woman, and she missed the look

of lust. But she felt it as if it physically held her down, heard his breath

become ragged with desire, noted his changing scent.

Alice's fuzzy mind reveled in the knowlege that she was the cause of his

pleasure. Pleasing men was why she came to the Estate, signed the contract,

stripped and knelt. She remembered the first time she felt the strong hand

of Master Andrew on her chin, lifting it while pushing her body to her knees.

The first feel of the leather collar, the solemn ceremony of her collaring,

the surge of submissive pleasure as she was led on her knees to service men...

---

(interruption for intermission. please adjust your jeans or skirts, I don't

judge. Just remember free people get to dress for their own comfort, so it's

important to keep any tightness away. Don't feel embarrassed, it's perfectly

OK for y'all to look, enjoy, follow along, breathe a bit heavy.)

Anyway, I'm a dog and Mistress Roberta led me on all fours to the wall map.

She'd seen where I was looking, and told me to show what I wanted. As a dog,

I didn't talk, but got up on my hind legs and poked my front paw at the track

signal.

As a dog, I can't stand up straight, so I pawed twice and went back down. I

crouched like a dog and looked up at Her face. I couldn't meet a Dominant's

gaze of course, and lowered my eyes.

Now I will admit to some un-submissive pride about the tracker board. Remem-

ber there are five main foxhunt trails, each one color-coded on the map, with

several alternates. Out in the real world, they're marked on trees and rocks,

on the observation towers and the aid stations, and flag poles in the meadows.

We may still have the old board in the maintenance shed somewhere. After all,

the property map hasn't changed. Just because I've been here over thirty years

isn't enough time for that, although the back road has been paved and repaired

after they tore it up putting in the sewer line.

Why the county couldn't figure out to dig first and then pave eludes me. I

like to think it's because the vanillas *don't* have sexy submissives to

relax them and see to their personal needs and comfort. We can even note

little details that exist but bore free people.

The new board has some features that I thought up. We're allowed to think

as long as we obey first. One command was to make the board better, and

remember I'd been part-time awhile back when the idea came up. The problem

was showing our hunt tracking. The old board had hundreds of little incan-

descent light bulbs, which by the way heated up using electricity.

They kept burning out, and some subs aren't detail-oriented enough to keep

checking. It was a source of anger for Dominants when they lost a track

because the lights burnt out. Now, the HuntMaster keeps a radio and can

talk with someone in the office, but that's rather a cheat and he won't

stain his honour by getting tracker data.

Also, the old board depended on radio reports, and the office staff lit the

lamps. So it's a bit backwards to get info from the office, instead of just

from observers. It ended up clumsy, prone to human error and malfunctions.

My idea was to use the then-new Light-Emitting Diodes instead of bulbs. It

used a lot less electricity and lasted practically forever. But still, where

to get the location data?

It was a problem back then to locate by radio. Not the theory, but we needed

something small enough for our vixen to carry. At first it was a whole back-

pack for the radio battery, then a fanny pack (and our vixens have such deli-

cious fannies...) and now just the GPS out of a cell phone.

Nowadays, just an app on a cellphone sends vixen GPS data every few minutes.

We take the phone call, a computer sees the GPS and where it is on our map,

an Arduino chip-computer lights up the LED.

As long as the tracker the vixen carries is plugged in. I saw the light blink

out, and the track on the map end. Of course, we still had the memory of where

Alice had been up to then, but because she wasn't on the proper trail, the

chips didn't know where to light.

So we had to go back to the computer log, see the GPS latitude and longitude,

and find them on the backup maps, with better detail and elevation. Sure

enough we saw where Alice went off trail, and Master Alphonse saw that the

marks were off, not Alice.

Remember he'd found out the trail marks were tampered with? It was the trail

itself that went off, when the marks were moved with the transponders (as we

found out, Master Barusa had tricked us) and we dogs lost her scent and

blundered into traps.

And the water traps? Master Barusa had simply dragged a water cart (it was

supposed to let us dogs get a drink) off and filled them, then hid it. The

electric bike was too quiet to hear over the pack barking.

But, he didn't seem to know about the tracker. He just tranked Alice and

hauled her off. Only after he'd taken her to the shed and tied her down

did he start searching her warm voluptuous flesh.

Now, I know the hetero males out there enjoy searching a bound bikini-clad

woman, and maybe the lesbians too. I rather enjoy it, when I'm told to show

a guest what subs do with subbes. I know for a fact young Alice deeply enjoys

a good dominant grope.

Alice prefers men, but she submits to women, as well as anyone who controls

her. She was supposed to be running vixen, but she was fox-napped, so she was

expected to fight, and then resist as he overpowered her. She was trying to

resist her natural and trained submission, as well as the situation, the

strong man who had captured her, the relaxation...

Of course they both knew he had control over her with the ropes, and she would

soon give herself totally to his will...