Sara's Ultimate Surrender

Sara’s Ultimate Surrender

     Sara fidgeted nervously in her seat as she had been doing for the last few hours. Her mind was whirling with the events of the last month, as well as the possibilities which lie ahead. She eyed the restroom for the thousandth time since boarding the plane. Making her way down the aisle on shaky legs, she longed for the sanctuary of the restroom, certain that every eye on board was on her, knowing her destination, her purpose for this trip—her secret. With a heavy sigh of relief she latched the restroom door and leaned against the wash basin. She looked down at herself, positive that her erect nipples were clearly visible under her blouse, even with her bra on. Her basic black skirt, while a respectable length, reaching to her knee, hid her now soaked panties. Quickly , before she could change her mind, she rolled the pink wet silk down her long legs and discarded them in the toilet. The cool air wafted across her nude mound sending a shiver through her. She deftly removed her bra from under her blouse and it joined the panties.  She let out a small squeak as she flushed and  her dignity disappeared into the recesses of the aircraft. It was hardly the first time she had gone without undergarments, but this seemed so different, so degrading. Possibly because there was no retrieving them or possibly because he had instructed her to do so.

     She had met him on the internet in a dom/sub channel, which was hardly anything novel. After all she had been an online submissive for some time and there was certainly no shortage of horny guys. Most of them, of course, were just idiots. Few understood the difference between being dominant and being a jackass. She had performed many perverse acts for the ones who truly appealed to her submissive nature. But this one had been different from the rest. He had been polite, patient, understanding and yet mesmerizing.  He introduced himself as Richard but it was his nickname, however, that had really caught her imagination—KennelMaster.

     “Does that mean what I think it does?” she had asked. It seemed he owned a kennel and was a breeder of large dogs. But he also was  dominant and had also bred a woman to a dog. Merging the two seemed natural to him. From that moment on she had been trapped in a dilemma. Should she run and never  speak to this man again? Or should she continue down this path? At first the thought of bestiality had repulsed her,  but  soon his words and her imagination took over.  She couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to be tied down and taken by a dog. In her mind the ultimate submission! Revulsion eventually turned to curiosity, and then to excitement. Could she? Would she dare? It was so taboo she tried to push it to the back of her mind. Yet the burning desire deep within her womb relentlessly pushed it back to the forefront of her consciousness.

     For his part Richard did not push, choosing instead to allow the idea to grow within her mind, nurturing it as a farmer would a seedling. And grow it did indeed. Once the idea had taken hold Sara could not seem to steer her imagination away from it. She intentionally directed their conversations back to it. She dreamt of being ravaged by a huge dog, moaning and grunting like a bitch in heat. Finally, when he judged the time to be right, he made his proposition.

     “Why don’t you fly here for a weekend. We can try things out, see what you like and what you don’t. I will be happy to pay your way.”

     Sara’s initial reaction was to flatly reject the idea. While it was intriguing and quite exciting she was not sure she could actually do such a thing. After all, fantasy was one thing but to really go through with  it was quite another. Still, a fire was lit within her loins and the flames threatened to consume her, burning more intensely than she had ever known. She tried bravely to extinguish the inferno , going about her job and daily affairs, keeping herself constantly occupied in order to keep her mind off of the seething passion hidden just underneath the surface.

     Night time was by far the worst for Sara. Her sleep was fitful, filled with dreams of submission, of being bound, used by both man and dog. Each night  seemed  a never ending series of the dreams, followed by long hours of trying to get back to sleep.  Nothing she tried could ease the burning desire, not even repeated masturbation sessions with her favorite toys. After a week she could endure no more and consented to meeting Richard.

     Even after making the call she was not sure what she felt. Was it fear, excitement, dread, shame, relief? Perhaps all of them at once. Whatever it was she had set it into motion and although she knew she could still back out she doubted that would be an option for her-she just had to know what it was like. But how would she feel afterwards? Would it feed her submissive hunger? Would it be enough for her or would she then need to push herself further? Would she be driven mad by her guilt and shame?

  

  The plane ticket arrived in a plain envelope. She anxiously opened it and confirmed the time and day of departure, having already requested a four day weekend for her little adventure. Enclosed were also instructions, simple and to the point. She was to wear a plain knee length black skirt, plain white blouse, simple, nondescript shoes. She was not to wear makeup of any kind, her long dark hair to be held at the back of her head. She was to shave all hair below her neck completely. She was to bring one carry on bag with her make-up, lingerie and other needs, and one change of clothes.

     Sara was actually somewhat surprised at such simple instructions. She had expected him to be much more demanding. The shaving took her aback slightly. She had shaved her pubic area before and her logs of course,  but he had stated specifically to shave everything below her neck. It was an odd feeling to have no hair on her arms but he had insisted.

     Sara stood now studying her reflection in the washroom mirror. A terrified young woman stared back at her, near panic in her soft brown eyes. She knew when she boarded the plane that she had crossed a line and could not turn back now, at least until she met Richard. She could still turn and run then but there was no turning around until she landed. Just as the panic threatened to overwhelm her, the captain turned on the seatbelt sign and made the announcement that the plane was descending.

     

     Sara quickly returned to her seat, not sure that her legs would carry her  the length of the aisle. Plopping down in her seat, she felt somehow comforted by the feeling of the seatbelt closing across her slim hips. She was certain that every single person aboard knew what she was about to do. They just had to.

     “Stop it Sara, you’re being ridiculous.” She told herself. Intellectually she realized there was no possible way anyone could know, but she was not in an intellectual state right now. She was a mass of emotions, not the least of which was rampant paranoia. She struggled to maintain her composure as the plane began its descent.

     Her struggle was lost when the plane reached the terminal and the passengers began to disembark. She knew she had to leave the plane at some point but she simply could not bring herself to move. When she could avoid it no longer she grabbed her bag and hurried to the skyway, determined to head straight for the ticket desk and take the first flight home.

     As she entered the terminal and was making a bee-line toward the counter, she nearly ran headlong into Richard, his warm smile making her feel slightly more at ease. He was just as in his pictures, about 6 feet tall, lean, somewhat average looking, yet undeniably masculine. His only truly remarkable features were his soft, smiling blue eyes.

     “Hello there young lady!” he exclaimed.  “You seem to be in somewhat of a hurry!”

     “Richard, I……” She was cut off by his arms around her, hugging her as if she were a long lost friend.

     “I must admit Sara, your pictures don’t do you justice.”

     She relished the compliment, even though she didn’t feel terribly attractive in her present state.

     “Th..thankyou”, she managed a shy smile.

     Then, seeming to  read her thoughts, “Shall we go, or would you like help with a return ticket?”

     Sara was somewhat taken aback. He knew what she was thinking of doing, but was not being even slightly accusatory. His understanding and gentle manner made her feel suddenly guilty for even considering leaving without meeting him.

     Her resolve now bolstered, she answered,” Let’s go home Richard.”

     Before leaving the terminal Richard stopped and bought them both a coffee. She contemplated him as he paid. She decided that, while he was not immediately striking, he was actual quite attractive, and while he was very well dressed, he was definitely a working man. His clothing was not too revealing, but a closer look revealed a muscled, strong upper body. Oh yes, she could definitely get used to this man!

     Soon they were wheeling through rush hour traffic- worker bees rushing home on Friday evening to their monotonous lives. Sara wondered if any of them could possibly fathom what she was about to do, how absolutely forbidden it was.  Even though she was slightly more at ease with Richard, she was still at a loss for words. It had been just an idea, a detached concept before when they had spoken of it, but now, here with him it was all too real and she couldn’t think of one thing to say which wouldn’t sound ridiculous. So she sat in silence, a million thoughts racing through her mind.

     Richard sensed her discomfort and broke the silence. Just casual banter, nothing two normal friends wouldn’t talk about in everyday conversation. He never mentioned what was foremost in both of their minds and for that Sara was grateful. She was certain she would just die if required to talk about it now. She felt her tension beginning to ease with his pleasant demeanor and began to relax somewhat, enjoying the passing sights, the crowded city giving way to suburban sprawl, and eventually countryside.

     The last fleeting rays of sunset had long since passed when they finally turned into the long driveway leading across the expanse of land on which lay the home and compound Richard called home. Even in the dim moonlight Sara could tell it was a lot of land and what she assumed were the kennels flanking the house to the left. Richard pushed the remote and the garage door opened to receive them. Sara had a fleeting sensation of being swallowed by a monster. Smiling to herself she felt her tension level rise dramatically.

     He led her to the guest room where she was allowed to freshen up while he prepared a light meal.

     “If you would like a shower there are fresh towels and a bathrobe.  I’ll be in the kitchen.”

     Sara couldn’t wait to shower and change after her long day. The warm water washed away all tension and she stayed as long as she dare under the soothing water.  Drying herself, she let down her hair and began brushing out the long brunette locks. Feeling much better she put on the simple white terry robe and made her way to the kitchen.

     As they ate Sara couldn’t help but wonder at this man. Since the moment she had stepped off the plane he had been the perfect gentleman, treating her like a princess. He hadn’t made any advances, nor had he even made reference to the fact that she had been naked under her skirt and blouse. He hadn’t tried to feel her up, or to even steal a kiss. And as her fire began to burn again her need was growing.

     “Richard, I was wondering…..I mean I……why haven’t you…..tried too, you know…..”

    “Fuck you?” he smiled.

     “Well, I don’t know, yes, I guess so.”

     “Is that what you want, Sara?”

     “I thought you did. I mean, don’t you want to?”

     His laughter made her feel suddenly very silly for asking. “You really are the horny little slut that you made yourself out to be online, aren’t you?”

     Sara contemplated her toes, her face burning with shame.

     “Everything in due time, horny girl.”

     He was well aware by now that humiliation lit a fire within her and the flame had been smoldering since she had performed her duty in the airplane restroom. Now he was going to fan the flame and then let her stew all night.

     With that he pulled her to the bed and, taking a gleaming pink collar from the nightstand he asked her to lift her hair and then placed it about her slim throat. He then took a  small padlock from his pocket, locked her collar to a chain he pulled from under the pillow. He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

     “Sweet dreams, slut Sara.”

     He moved to the door, turned off the light and left her there in the darkness. She felt the chain and found exactly what she expected-it was attached to the wrought iron headboard. She was  going nowhere until he released her. Putting aside the burning desire his words had inspired, Sara sighed, removed the robe and climbed into bed. She pulled the soft duvet over her naked body and was quickly asleep.

     She woke to the sound of dogs barking frantically somewhere outside. She suspected it must be feeding time for them. The room was bathed in morning light. She felt refreshed and well rested, but as she sat up to stretch the reason she was here came racing back into her consciousness. All at once a million butterflies took wing in her stomach and the urge to flee was nearly impossible to resist, not that she could.  Looking about her she noticed a plate of croissants and a small glass of orange juice on the nightstand. Alongside was a note. As she munched on a croissant she began to read:

     “Good morning slut Sara,

The time has arrived for your adventure to truly begin. In that spirit, once you have eaten and used the restroom I want you to prepare yourself for service. Don’t worry, your chain will reach anywhere you need to go for the moment. First, I want you to put your hair into two pigtails, braided if you like. Then you will put on the makeup provided to you in the vanity.  DO NOT use sparingly. We are going for the overly-made up look. When finished, go to the wardrobe and put on everything you find there. I will be around to check in on you.

Master”

     “Wow, I guess the honeymoon is over!” she exclaimed, somewhat sarcastically.

     Sara put down the food and took a sip of juice. She was in no condition to eat-her stomach was doing somersaults as it was!  She quickly made use of the toilet and sat at the vanity.

     Thirty five minutes later she was satisfied that she had achieved the look he expected.  The reflection in the mirror showed 2 pigtails bobbing high on her head behind each ear. Heavily blushed cheeks framing pouting hot pink lips, soft brown eyes set off by jet black heavily applied mascara, long fake black eyelashes batting flirtily under shimmering violet eyeshadow. She barely recognized herself, not having ever looked like this, even in her sluttiest moments. She had to admit though, that she really liked the look. It really appealed to her slutty desire to be anything but proper.

     Sara opened the wardrobe and removed  two hangers. The first carried what could best be described as a blouse, although with considerably less material than the one she wore last night. The second hanger held even less hope for her dignity. Clipped to it was a slip of plaid material which appeared to be a skirt but bore more resemblance to a handkerchief! Looking again she found a pair of frilly white anklets and a pair of impossibly high heeled black patent pumps. She decided to get on with it, so slipped her arms through the sleeves of the top, at first thinking he had given her the wrong size.  Buttoning it stretched it tight across her breasts, flattening them slightly, but threatening to be punctured by her now rock-hard nipples. The second problem she discovered was that there were only  two buttons, leaving her breasts barely contained by the thin material and threatening to spill out at any moment. It was clearly designed to be tied under her breasts, and she now dutifully knotted the ends off , leaving her entire midriff exposed.

Moving to what could only laughingly be referred to as a skirt, she slid the short pleats up her long legs, settling into place on her hips. Again she had trouble getting it fastened as it seemed too small. Small was, in fact, an understatement.  The pleats barely covered her behind and she felt the constant urge to pull the hem down.

     With a sigh she sat on the bed, pointed her toes and rolled the little anklets on, the dainty ruffle stopping just above her ankle. Taking great care she slipper her toes into the pumps and, using her own weight, settled into the ridiculous heels. She estimated them to be at least 6 inches but as she stood decided it had to be more.  Taking a few mincing steps she had doubts she could keep her balance in them, much less walk.   

     With nothing left to do she began to make the bed, both out of habit and a desire to get accustomed to moving about in these heels. Just as she was finishing the bedroom door slid open and she was greeted with Richard’s beaming face. 

     “Very good, slut!  Although you are not here in a domestic capacity, I appreciate the thought. Well, you certainly are a vision young lady! Oh, I know it is a little silly-the slutty schoolgirl outfit, but you carry it off perfectly. Ready to go?”

     Her heart now racing, Sara blurted out, “Yes Richard.”

     “It’s  Master now, slut, not Richard.” He reprimanded her, finally succumbing to the urge to fondle a nearly exposed breast, running a thumb across a rigid nipple.

     “Yes Master!” she gasped at the touch.

     He made a twirling motion with his finger.  She slowly turned her back to him, barely able to breathe. She felt each wrist being wrapped in soft leather. She examined one cuff, noticing it was the same strong but supple pink leather currently encircling her throat. Her wrists were then brought together behind her and with a click were held firm in the small of her back. She felt that she should say something but was unsure whether she even had her voice. It was rendered academic  by the black penis gag he was now forcing into her mouth.  She felt her pink lips stretched tightly around the intruder and fought against her gag reflex as it seated itself near the back of her throat. But he was insistent and soon the straps were buckled tightly under her pigtails.

     Unlocking her  from the chain holding her to the bedframe, he clipped a pink leash to her collar and pronounced “Time to go little slut.”

     Suddenly the panic overcame her and she fought to remain in place, planting her heels. Her struggles were fruitless however, as the pull on her leash was insistent.

     “Don’t make me carry you little tramp!” he warned. “You will not like the result.”

     With tears in her eyes she allowed herself to be led from the room and down the hall. They exited the house though the back door and into a large grassy area. Ahead lay the kennel area and her fate. She was not in the least bit comfortable being led, bound and gagged and in her current state of dress. It took all of her concentration to not only keep up, but to remain upright as she was led along the concrete path. As they passed between the outdoor kennels, there were many dogs, all large breeds, barking wildly and jumping against the fence. Sara felt her face flush with embarrassment even though she knew it was silly and these dogs could not possibly understand her situation. They entered the main building to more barking, amplified by the confines of the walls and echoing loudly. Sara felt as if they were all laughing at her, taunting her, ridiculing her for allowing herself to be in this position.

     Sara felt an odd sense of relief when they finally passed through the kennel area and into a foyer of sorts. Richard led her to a large door to the right and pressed it open. If Sara thought she had experienced humiliation in the last few minutes, it paled in comparison to what greeted her as the door swung open. As she was led over the threshold she was greeted first with appreciative oohs and ahs, followed by applause. The room was filled with people!

     Sara stopped dead in her tracks, trying desperately to express her protest though her gag and shaking her head from side to side. The tension on the leash increased and she was pulled slowly and insistently into the room. As she was drawn further into the room what little there was left of her conscious mind registered the fact that everyone in the room was well dressed, men and women alike, all wore masks, as did Richard now. It was not an enormous room, but certainly large enough to accommodate the seating of the 20 or so people, all of whom were making comments to Richard as if she were not here or not capable of understanding.

     They stopped at the center of the room and Sara found herself facing what was evidently the instrument of her deflowering. It was a low padded bench with extensions at the foot of it and covered in heavy black straps with eye hooks in various places. One look and she knew she would soon be its occupant.

     All of this was secondary , however, to the fact that there were a number of video cameras about and one was currently being operated by a man who was pointing it directly at her. Not only was her perverse and ultimately degrading act going to be witnessed by these people, but it was to be preserved permanently to be seen by people for years to come. Sara wished the ground would open up and swallow her.

     “Ladies and Gentlemen,” Richard began addressing the crowd, “Allow me to introduce to you our star attraction , Sara.”

     There was a round of applause, some whistles and a few catcalls.

     Richard continued,” Sara here approached me some time ago with her problem….. she has a deep desire to be a bitch……..and not just any bitch as society has come to know it. As you can see by her appearance she already has that role down pat.  But I refer to a bitch by definition, that is to say a female dog.”

     This brought about another round of applause.

     “Now, naturally I was opposed to such an idea.”

     Laughter followed this last comment and Richard waited until it died down to continue.

     “But Sara here was so persistent that I took pity on her and decided to help her.”

     Sara glared at him and tried in vain to say it wasn’t true, that it had been him who had approached her, had planted the idea, who had arranged all this, even paid her plane fare. Of course all that came out was a series of mews, which just spurred on the crowd.

   “So without further ado, let’s see to her conversion.”

     To another round of applause Richard moved Sara into a kneeling position on the padded knee supports of the bench, buckling a heavy strap behind each knee. Another strap encircled each ankle, securing her lower legs tightly to the apparatus. Then, placing a hand between her shoulders he pushed her down until her weight was supported by the bench itself. He quickly wrapped another wide strap about her waist and pulled it tight before buckling it closed.  As she felt another set of straps being tightened around her upper things her breasts fell free of the tight top, falling on either side of the bench and drawing admiring comments from the audience. 

     Sara was no longer in control of her conscious mind, just as she was no longer in control of her body. Instead she had transcended the immense humiliation and was now just watching herself, witnessing her degradation along with the rest of her audience. The cameras recorded every nuance of her binding from every angle.

     Richard now released her hands from behind her and one by one stretched each out to two extensions at the head of the bench and securing each cuff in turn to spread her arms into a y shape. As he knelt to secure yet another strap about her upper torso, he whispered to her “Is this everything you dreamed of slut? You told me a million times you love the humiliation. I guess you meant it. Look at you, all bound and stretched out, waiting for your stud to come and plant his seed in you, to make you his bitch. And the best part is, you got on that airplane on your own. You chose to be here. Everything will be different now Sara, you know that, don’t you? Enjoy it slut.”

Sara shook visibly with his words. He was right. She had chosen to do this. She had, indeed, told him a million times how she loved humiliation. And he had given it to her, more than she could ever imagine. She would have hung her head but at that moment her was lacing a leather thong into her twin ponytails and as he pulled her head was forced back so that she was looking at the far wall and the camera mounted there. He secured the strap to the one about her back and her head was held in place. Every facial expression would be recorded and also relayed to the several high definition television screens placed high on the wall facing the audience.

     Sara felt her skirt flipped up, exposing her behind, not that is was well covered to begin with. Richard then turned a crank on the side of the bench and she felt her knees beginning to separate.  Further and further apart they were forced, all the while her behind was being raised higher into the air. When he was satisfied with his work, Richard stopped turning the crank. Sara was spread wider than she thought possible, and her behind was raised several inches above her head, her back arched in a gentle c-shape.  She then felt something cool sprayed on her sex.

     Richard stood and addressed the audience once again “And now, ladies and gentleman, Sara becomes a bitch!”

     He moved to a door opposite the one from which they had entered. Disappearing momentarily, he re-entered leading a huge Rottweiler on a heavy black leash accompanied by murmurs from the crowd. The dog wore some sort of soft leather booties on his front paws and was pulling desperately at the lead trying to get to her. As if this were not disconcerting enough to the bound girl, the dog also sported the most enormous testicles she had ever seen causing her to fret the thought that his penis might match them in size.  Sara instinctively tried to pull free, but was held firmly in place.

     Richard led the excited animal behind and out of Sara’s field of vision. As soon as the leash was unclipped the dog’s nose was in the defenseless folds of Sara’s sex, his long tongue lapping ravenously at her labia. Her nether lips were spreading a bit more with each pass of the strong tongue and melting away Sara’s mind with each unbelievable stroke.

   “As you can see, my new formula puts King instantly in the mood. The taste is irresistible to dogs and the pheremones will soon do their work on his libido. I chose the spray form for convenience, but it can come in almost any form.”

     Even as he spoke the pheromones were indeed doing their work. The tip of the dogs  pink-purple shaft began to emerge from its furry hiding place, its shiny length growing with each passing second.

     This, of course, was unknown to the now writhing girl attached to the bench. The only thing she was aware of now was the mind bending pleasure washing over her from the center of her being. Had she known she would have struggled much more feverishly as the dog’s massive member did indeed match his balls in size. Every so often the talented tongue would brush over her swollen clit, and the resulting spasm threatened to throw the bench across the room, bucking girl and all.

     The dog, his member now fully extended from its sheath, was clearly becoming anxious and no longer interested in licking his bitch. Richard knew that, despite the dogs training, he would not be denied much longer. There was also the matter of the bucking brunette strapped to his breeding bench. He had no intention of allowing her relief this easily. Though he doubted it was necessary at this point, he grabbed a container of lubricant and squirted some into his palm. Pressing his hand to the splayed crotch, he worked the lube into the moist folds and confirmed that she was indeed more than ready.

     Richard stood and gave the single command,  “Mount.”

     King was between her splayed knees in an instant, his huge leather encased forepaws clamping around her slim waist. The bound bitch beneath him moaned loudly through her phallus-stretched pink lips, her eyes darting wildly about in spite of her inability to move her head much. Unfortunately for her, nobody in the room understood or even cared whether her moans were those of passion or distress.

     Sara felt the slick monster poking and sliding around her behind and thighs as it sought it’s target. Then suddenly, the tip found the entrance it so desperately wanted and the dog instinctively lunged forward, driving the full length of his shiny monster into the bitch. The gag did little to suppress the scream which emitted from deep down in Sara’s being as pain and pleasure, degradation and elation washed over her.

      But King had no interest in the emotions or comfort of his bitch. He began driving into her with a force and fury Sara could not possibly have anticipated. Each vicious thrust seemed to be splitting her open more and was hurting more each time. Just as she was certain she would go insane from the pain and debasement, the pain left her as the massive knot pushed past her entrance and buried itself in her womb, leaving her feeling completely stuffed. With his last few thrusts, the dog’s knot found her g-spot and as the enormous balls emptied their molten gallons into her, Sara was taken into her own little world as the orgasm raged like a wildfire through her imprisoned body.

     As consciousness began to creep in, Sara realized that she had blacked out momentarily. The audience was cheering and applauding vigorously and  the cameraman was circling her to capture every angle. The dog was still atop her, held there by Richard. She still felt her womb stuffed full and the dog was attempting to pull away, his knot tugging at her but not painfully, as Richard would not allow him to get off of her.

     He bent down to whisper to her “Well Sara, you have just taken your first step away from the life of Homo Sapien and towards that of  canine. You are King’s bitch now.”

      As Richard was talking the dog’s knot had been finding all the right locations in its effort to dislodge itself from her. With Richard’s last sentence she went over the edge once more, wailing into her gag with newfound energy. As tears wet her cheeks she realized she had crossed a bridge over which there was no return. No matter what she did for the rest of her life she would always be a submissive bitch to a dog. Worst of all, she could not deny she had done so willingly, despite the bondage, even orgasmed from the experience.

     At last the dog was ready to pull out of her and Richard let him dismount. As the massive shaft pulled out of her quivering hole she felt the gush spray her thighs seemingly in buckets, much to her dismay. He had filled her womb with his seed and she felt the nausea rising as she couldn’t stop her pussy from expelling the warm liquid. The comments from the audience made her debasement complete.

     Richard clipped the leash onto King’s collar and led him out, returning a moment later to show his guests into another room for cocktails and hors d’ouevres. Sara lay in silence, exhausted, devasted.

     Richard re-entered and quickly released her bindings. She lay limp, unable to summon the strength or desire to move. He scooped her up in his arms and carried the semi-conscious girl back to her room.  He placed her lovingly on the bed and slipped  the extreme heels off her feet and removed the harsh gag. Gingerly removing the remaining tiny bits of cloth covering her, he couldn’t resist one brief fondle of a firm breast. He decided to leave her cuffs and collar, more out of a desire not to disturb her than to keep her bound. Placing a gentle kiss on her forehead, he covered the sleeping girl and slipped silently from the room.