With a significant amount of additional proof given during the course of the day, Braiya restrained her initial response and remained silent against his usual sharp tongue, wanting to quip back at him with her mutual lack of desire for his massive length rammed inside her.  Instead she stared at him blankly and obeyed.  There was a thread of weariness in her bones, but it took little time for Braiya to remove the two strips of cloth that Mae had given her again.  Even then, sore muscles called to her as she tugged the tie loose at the nape of her neck. She turned away slightly, her side to him as the man began to disrobe, unsure where to put her eyes. Not from morals or modesty, but a mixture of impending doom his actions stirred. The feline's mind prepping on cue for the amount of healing she would have to do after he was finished with her this time. When he dropped the breastplate she untied her sarong, easily finished.  The two garments she held in front of her, clasped in her hands.<br/><br/>By the time he had everything removed, she had crawled onto the bed fighting the urge to stay as far away as possible.  She sat leaning on one hip, legs curled beside her, in the center of the bed. Her ears were down and to either side of her head, flicking anxiously on occasion. Every sound and movement made them perk up, keeping her alert, waiting for him to lash out at her, hit her, or pull on the lead. Her eyes were focused on the bed but slowly rose as his movement had stopped. Unable to admit her hatred for him was tainted by his possessive actions, she drew her eyes away from his chest and shifted them to the gauntlets that remained.