Bitchin'

After the conversation I went upstairs and showered. After that, with my hair still wet, I went to the village. Getting there from the secluded old house took me about twenty minutes of driving across pretty much forgotten paths and muddy roads. Once I was there I got the shopping behind me as quick as possible - I mostly just filled some bags with canned goods and pasta and on top of that got myself some new clothes. I also bought a toothbrush and some more of the stuff you need when you return to the abandoned house you grew up in.

It was good that I bought it all at the same corner shop: The sum I had to pay in the end was at least high enough to somehow justify that I paid it with such a large bill. There were no questions asked and as I put the change in my pocket I was resolved to use the rest of the large bills only in anonymous circumstances and larger cities.

I returned and made sure the old fridge was still working. Then I went back to the crate. I rummaged through its' contents once more. I chose what I needed and put all those things into an unsuspicious sports bag. I was nervous. My nipples were hard and driving me crazy, which probably was the silliest part.

When I entered the room and saw Hannah I had a bad conscience, at least for a short moment: She had been forced to sleep on the dusty floor and was accordingly dirty, and the chains could not have made her stay in my custody any more comfortable. She looked tired and had dark rings under her pretty eyes and her hair was a mess. Judging from the small pool I saw in a corner she had been forced to empty her bladder like this, at least once..

My bad conscience persisted only for a moment though: The items on my fathers' old workbench were in roughly the same positions they had been before, but only *roughly* the same positions: A hammer had been moved, as well as a handsaw. Some nails were lying on the ground where there had not been nails before.

Of course she had tried to free herself. I would have too. But the rest of the story was not in her calm, tired face but in her eyes. Those blue doll eyes, trying so hard to look sane and rational, were in fact filled with hatred. Had Hannah managed to free herself from the chains and get out of this room, I was sure she would not just have left this place and called the cops: She would have killed me, cut my throat while I slept or smashed my head in with the hammer. We were mortal enemies. That was something I finally had to accept if I wanted to get out of this alive and not sentenced to twenty years of prison.

It's a dog eat dog world, right? You do what you have to do.

I told Hannah with a weak smile: "It's good to see you're still alive. But seeing you also makes me feel so bad! It's not easy for me, but I..." I let my voice trail away for a moment. "I want to apologize for the things I did. I hope you are not hurting too much." I *can* be a good actress, and right now I did my best to look regretful and a little coy, like a girl who had time to make up her mind and has realized the mistake she made. I took two more steps towards Hannah, opened the bag and took out of it a bottle of water and a sandwich.

Her eyes darted towards the water and food and I could see how much she wanted both, but she managed to hide the greed after only a second. "Yeah, well I'm a tough cookie", she said. "I was really angry at you for a while, but frankly... I guess I kind of deserved this. Making jokes about your friend was plain wrong. It's just that I had had a rough week and lashed out against the wrong person.

I had a hard time not breaking into hysteric laughter. Hannah Gehringer and I were reversely trying to persuade each other that we could still become friends, that we had grown from this experience and now there was an opportunity to bond. No grudge would be held anymore whatsoever and we'd both walk into the sunset hand in hand, farting rainbows.

"I would so much like to find a solution for this... situation", I said. I unscrewed the water bottle and came a step closer again, and then made a face like I was suddenly having a moment of doubt. "Listen, I would like to get you out of the chains. Then you could drink and eat and we could talk this through. But you aren't going to try and... hurt me again, are you?"

Just for the fraction of a second there was a look on her face as if she couldn't believe how fucking dumb I was. Then she smiled.

"I don't see why I should want to hurt you. I hate violence, Jennifer. I think we should find a solution for this, as quickly as possible. And I'm... really hungry and thirsty."

I nodded. I knelt next to her, but the large bag on the ground and made sure she could not yet see what was inside. Then I had her turn around.

Her arms were okay, the chains hadn't caused real damage. Still, spending the night like this must have been damn uncomfortable. I didn't feel sorry for her in the least, especially not since I had witnessed what a sweet-talking viper she could be when she deemed it necessary. If she ever got through law school, about which there wasn't much doubt, this highly functioning psycho would have all tools necessary in her possession to wreak havoc on the lives of many people.

I placed the broad, thick leather collar around her slender neck. She jerked, surprised, and tried to turn her head to me.

"Hey, what are you doing Jennifer??"

"I know it feels weird", I apologized while I adjusted and then slowly tightened the collar, "but I'm kind of scared of you." I made it sound like admitting my anxiety was hard for me. "I'm going to unchain you in a few seconds, right? But as a small reinsurance, would it be okay if you wear this at least? Just for as long as we need to talk this through."

"Sure... I guess..." She wasn't happy about it. But she accepted, of course, because wearing an uncomfortable collar seemed to be the lesser of two evils. She was caught in her role: No sane, rational person would NOT have traded the chains for the collar.

I made sure the collar was set tightly around her neck. It was so high and broad that it had to feel very heavy and weird around her throat, more a neck-corset than a usual collar in fact. I locked the small buckle on the back and then made Hannah bow forward.

I was anxious. I was excited, my stomach cramped and my nipples still hard and my mouth dry as hell. "Okay, let's free your ankles first", I said. Unlocking the chains I saw that they had made impressions in her skin there, but had not chafed it. I put the chains away and Hannah sounded a little relieved. I grabbed her left ankle and began bending her leg, toppling her forward.

It wasn't a hard drop, since she had been bowed forward so far already. Still she produced a slightly confused shriek as her body and face were pushed against the ground. I acted fast, took the first of the items I needed to put on her from the bag and wrapped it around her leg. It was a sheath, made from soft leather and rubber, masterly crafted. Its purpose would be to strap Hannahs' leg into a folded position, effectively 'stumping' it. Since it had been made by someone who knew scarily well what he was doing, the item went around her thigh and lower leg easily and, as I pulled the straps, forced them together without a problem. Hannahs' heel was pushed against her ass in the process.

She was not enthusiastic about this.

"Agh... hey, what the fuck...?!" With the collar around her head it was impossible for her to look backwards to me, but she tried hard. "What are you doing??"

I didn't answer. Instead I grabbed her other ankle, used my good position behind and above Hannah to bend that leg into the desired position as well and quickly slipped another sheath around it. She realized now that this could not be a misunderstanding, that instead I had lulled and tricked her, and she roared in anger. "YOU FUCKING BITCH; WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH ME?"

I had already stumped that leg like the first one, and now she was lying flat on her belly with her knees pointing downward while her heels were forced against her ass. I sat down on her butt to pin her down and grabbed her still-chained arms.

"What do you think I'm doing, Hannah?", I said with my mouth close to her left hear from behind. I was horny. I didn't understand where the fuck that came from, but I was so horny that I felt like I was going to explode. "Proving that you aren't as clever as you think you are."

She roared again in anger, and as I unchained one of her wrists she tried to lash out, scratch me or punch me, push me away if necessary. But I was in an excellent position and her other hand was still uselessly cuffed, and so it was not too hard to bend this arm into the position I needed it in: Grabbing her sweaty forearms I forced Hannahs' hand against her shoulder, folding the arm just like I had folded her legs. I pulled another sheath - smaller and designed exactly for that limb- around it. Hannah fought with all her strength but had no means to stop me as I pulled the straps tight and buckled them.

"This is too tight you asshole! Stop it!"

"No." I took the fourth of the sheaths from the bag. I readied myself, then released Hannahs' left hand. Immediately she tried to pull it away and prevent me from stumping it. We struggled with each other. I was on the winning side. I forced her arm into the position I needed it to be in and slipped the sheath over it.

"Who... wait, who gave this to you?" There was shock in Hannahs' voice. That made me curious because, even in this situation, it was unexpected from her. She had not taken me seriously all the way since we had met each other for the first time, not even when she had been chained in my basement. Now, for the first time at all, there was real fear in her voice. "DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS IS?"

"I do", I nodded. I could hear myself *snarling*. This was a power-rush like I had never felt it before. When her arms were bound all she could still do was flap her stumped limbs weakly, lying flat on her belly beneath me. "It's the ultimate solution to find out which one of us really is a bitch."

"No, no no no you don't understand, wait, I know there's also a gag waiting for me, but please wait...!" Hannah was talking fast now, and this time I didn't think she was faking anything. She still tried desperately to turn her head and see what I was doing behind/above her, but the collar was too strict.

"Okay", I said. "I'm listening."

"This setup... this bondage, this doesn't come from you, right? Someone must have given it to you, and I know only one person who cghh...ghhuuuggghhhh!!!"

I had tricked her again - had let her talk for a moment and then, when she didn't suspect it, had shoved the gag into her mouth from behind.

That gag was a curious thing: Even though I knew a bit about bdsm and had seen some different sorts of gags over the years, I had never seen anything like it. It was shaped more or less like a ballgag (and I had already had those in my mouth myself on occasion) but then again more like a mouthpiece that was designed to be at least semi-comfortable over longer periods of time. I had put it in my own mouth only half an hour ago, for testing purposes.

I had quickly realized how wicked this gag was: My teeth had slipped into designated rubber grooves, the thick material itself had blocked my jaws and of course had made talking impossible. But after a moment I had realized that the material at the same time was soft enough so that I could 'chew' on it, compress it and work with it. That didn't mean that I would ever be able to speak with the thing lodged between my jaws of course - it just meant that I could wear it for hours or days because, uncomfortable as the thing might be, it would never cause the kind of cramps any ring-gag or ballgag would.

Now Hannah made the same kind of experience that I had made 30 minutes in the past. Just that I had been able to remove the gag from my mouth - since I was able to simply oull it out with my fingers again - whereas she was fighting hard against it with no effect whatsoever.

"There's a hole in the middle", I told the grunting, cursing girl as I kept pinning her down. "I know your tongue is in the way so that you can hardly breathe. Just push it through the hole and all is going to be fine."

She followed my advice, out of sheer desperation. The small tip of her pink tongue came through the black rubber, dangling down a little. She inhaled wheezing and produced another choking noise right after that. But I knew it was an act now, and that she could breathe just fine. I did not even feel the weakest impulse to take the gag out of her mouth again.

Instead I made sure that under no circumstances would she be able to spit it out: I led the straps of the head harness around her head, across her face and beneath her chin and strapped them one by one while she still tried to fight me, to turn her head away, to prevent me from finishing what I had begun. With her nostrils flaring and drool dripping from her tongue Hannah had to endure it, if she wanted or not.

I got off her when I could be sure that she was as helpless as a newborn puppy. She rolled to her side when my weight didn't keep her pinned down any longer and flailed around with her useless stumped arms and legs. It didn't help her at all: The sheaths - made from combination of soft leather and rubber and obviously designed very professionally by some mad genius who had put a *lot* of thought into this - held her limbs, feet and hands in their uselessly compressed, folded positions and allowed only for the small bit of wiggle room that would make sure that circulation was sustained.

Hannah looked remarkably silly like this, and the noises she produced, in combination with her pink tongue lolling from her mouth, made this even more enjoyable for me. The transformation was astonishing and I began to understand why someone had designed this outfit for her: It was the perfect combination of restraints and degradation and robbed her of any chance to be as threatening, charming, enchanting or poisonous as she enjoyed to be.

"I'm not even done yet", I told her, while she stared at me with those round blue eyes and gargled strange noises into the gag that might have been curses. I took the other items from the bag: There was a suit that would complete her encasement and a mask that would cover most of her head and hide her face while giving her a debatably canine look. There was a leash. And there was a fairly large buttplug with a short doggy tail on its outside.

She freaked out when she saw it. But her protests were unintelligible and fruitless. I grabbed her, rolled her to me and pushed her to the ground with one hand. When she didn't stop protesting and fighting I hit her ass so hard with one hand that the *SMACK* rang back from the walls.

She wailed in pain. I tore her panties off her because dogs clearly should not wear that kind of shit and I had hated them from the moment I had first laid my eyes on them anyways. I was thrilled and grimly euphoric, energized and a little power drunk. What I did was sadistic, but I enjoyed it relentlessly.

"You *have* contacts built into that collar, and I can administer electroshocks at any given time", I told Hannah. "And I guess that I *will* do it sooner or later." I showed her the bracelet that could be used to remote control the collar and clipped it to my left wrist. "But if you stop bitching around, then I won't have a reason to shock your ass *right now*."

She pulled herself together. I could see it was tough, even for Hannah Gehringer. What was happening shocked her and tore down her defenses, and she wasn't capable of playing a role anymore: This was her naked, bare self, and she was truly worried.

But at least she didn't fight me anymore. I could throw the suit over her bag and strap it to her body, essentially putting her into a strict corset that pressed her small, perky tits through openings and left her crotch and butt crack naked. The rest of her skin was covered in the dark material now. There were small laces and rings by which the bodysuit could be connected to her arm- and leg-sheaths and the collar. She moaned and groaned while I tightened the outfit into a more and more rigid encasement. Only when I took the hood in my hands did she try to protest again.

"Hghh..oouugh...!"

"What do you think you're going to achieve with that kind of gibberish?" I grabbed her head, slipped the hood over her head and began fastening it. Hannahs' wide, blue dolls eyes - the ones that had enchanted and possible fucked up so many innocent boys - were now visible only through the eye-holes in the dark leather-mask. Her gagged mouth was hidden beneath a kind of 'snout'. She shook her head, helpless and utterly degraded, and looked more like an impatient puppy than ever before. The fact that her mask was open right beneath the snout, so that her pink, lolling tongue was still visible, was just priceless.

The bitch was ready. It was time to go for a walk.