Red Feline Faces the Inquisition - Chapter One

	The man drags Red Feline the short distance to the cage, her arms pulling her legs and the chains pressing her flesh. She feels the man's sweaty hands touch her underarms as he drags her, his hands feel large, strong and weathered. She becomes aware of how thin her shift is, the only clothing left to her after the guards had ripped her from her dress, petticoats and corsets. In her struggle with his grasping hands, her garment falls away to expose her left breast.

	As the man pushes Red Feline into the cage he notices her uncovered breast, her skin feels soft and tight. He lets his eyes range for a moment over her supple body. For an instant he feels like betraying the church and answering her pleas with her release. To him. He feels like taking her away, to his home, making love to her. He would never be able to possess one so fine under normal circumstances...but he can see in her eyes that she fears him, hates him...he shoves her pretty body into the cage and away from himself.

	Red Feline feels the rough floor of the cage. The small cavity where she is being pushed was not large enough to lay out flat, barely large enough to sit in. The torturer has to struggle to push her in, hitting her head, her shoulders, scraping her skin against the hard surfaces of the cage. Red Feline hopes the man will remove the chain joining her wrists and ankles, she doesn't see how she will fit in without being able to fold her knees to her chest.

	After pushing her head and back inside the cage, the man grabs the womans's legs, unfastening the link that holds her hands and feet crushed together behind her back. He folds her legs and jams her body into the small space. The rough surface scratches Red Feline's back, the chain on her waist cuts into her skin. The man hits her head against the side of the cage, brutally shoving her. Her neck feels ready to snap. She cries out again.

	Finally Red Feline is in the cramped cage, too tight for her to initially make a good assesment of her confinement. She turns her head slightly and smells the floor. There are few reminders of previous tenants, the cage is obviously swept out occasionally. She feels like a confined animal, she smells the sweat of the torturer dripping on her from above and smearing her legs and arms by his rough hands. She smells her own sweat. Hers has fear in it.