Reklaw finds her hair getting thicker with every hack also, and it starts to hinder her movement. Every passing week she arises to find herself sporting a heavier frame to carry the burden as the warlock begins to refer to her as "My unending spool" and "font of threads", refusing to acknowledge her as a person, just a source of materials for his malicious ends.‏

I suppose as if to solidify her new role, the warlock places Rek in more restrictive clothing. The unicorn finds herself in a dress so heavy she can't move her arms, then her waist... watching herself in the mirror through one eye, the other obscured by falling black, as heavy golden bangles weigh down her arms, and fat gems upon her ears as they're pierced several times to make room, the crazed magic user gleefully decorating his prize. "Dearest spool, beautiful you are, but you twist and turn and it makes it hard for me to -harvest- your great, oceans of hair. Punishment." She'd cry out as a collar locked her head in place facing forward, and a strong hand pulled her hair aloft from behind. She couldn't even turn away, she had to watch, a single tear departed from her quivering eyelash. "And now... you watch. Cut. Cut. Cut..." Snip. Snip. Snip.

Art @    or toughset@FA