"Get up." I stare at his demanding nature. It's not a request, but a strict order. And right now, I don't dare to defy Alpha's will.

He gets off me and motions towards a strange device sitting menacingly opposite us. It's some sort of rack, built with sturdy wood with all its joints and hinges strengthened with wrought iron and tempered steel. Most disturbingly are the numerous straps strategically in place for what should be my neck and all four limbs.

Despite the ominous feeling of grim foreboding I get from it, my first thought is oddly enough, innocent surprise that I've never noticed it before. Never in any of my prior encounters with the pack have I seen this gothic piece of furniture just sitting in the corner. Perhaps after my second encounter at the start of my field trip back to Yellowstone did the pack bring this in, figuring that there's finally someone possibly game enough to fulfill all the their needs and desires.

Ignoring my instincts to make a break for it and get away from here as far as I can. I stand up and obey, partly out of fear, but mostly out of morbid curiosity for what my future holds.

I approach the rack and turn around, placing my limbs where the straps are. The look on Alpha's face tells me he's in the zone of complete dominating confidence. But my ready cooperation can't fail to make the ends of his lips break out into a fleeting smile. I guess he's always wanted to try this out and my obedience is fulfilling one of his secret fantasies.

He straps me in readily, making sure that each of my straps are comfortable, yet tight enough so that any struggle is useless and just obvious enough to stimulate the dominant.

My eyes widen as he dangles a collar in front of me. Is this part of the pack initiation? A ritual? Or just a no-strings-attached kinky sex session? I'm confused, yet fascinated at the same time. Even more peculiar is the tag attached to the leather collar adorned with various spikes. My heart pounds like crazy when I notice the name "Brandy" crudely engraved onto the it, most likely scratched in with a werewolf's sharp claws.

He meets my wide-eyed gaze as I look up.

"Yes, this is yours. You will wear this till you're properly trained, till your mind and body submits wholeheartedly to your Alpha."