Soreness was indeed one of the many things he was feeling now; tired, too, even if he had barely done any of the work. It was more of a mental tiredness, as he processed and worked through what was happening to him, and how he was unlikely to return any time soon, if at all, to the fairly sedate life he had enjoyed previously.<br/><br/>Then again, he was also filled with the sort of warmth and bliss that came from the good, hard fucking he had received. Not that he would ever admit it, of course. At least... not yet. Once his bindings had been loosened, he was more than eager to stand up from the bed, slowly rubbing at the thin markings on his delicate flesh. examining them with nervous trepidation.<br/><br/>"It's a very dirty home. It<em>needs</em>cleaning." He said, having not, at any point, forgotten just how filthy this place was. it was practically impossible for him, and his racially inspired obsessive compulsiveness.  He spoke these words as he moved to get the cape that was mentioned, fear motivating his response.<br/><br/>He did find the weight of the clothing did not seem to fit it, but it was not overly bothersome or difficult to handle. He would move to place it on her shoulders, as she had requested, hands barely touching her sinfully smooth skin as he did so.<br/><br/>A look of dread swept across his features as he heard the word 'cage'. "Cage? No... I don't want to go to into a cage..." He weakly protested.