Bitchin'

In the morning after my conversation with Peter, when I unlocked her cell in the basement, she did what I had expected: She protested against her captivity with new vigor and loud screams, struggling within the bitch suit like a madwoman. I had decided that I needed to be especially tough in dealing with her and that I could not show her any kind of mercy - or she would inevitably see that as weakness. I could not allow her to feel any hope whatsoever.

So I activated her shock collar on the highest setting and made her fall on her side, convulse and twitch for a few seconds as the current shot through her flesh and nerves.

When she had recovered a little I ordered her to sit. She disobeyed and gargled senseless bullshit into her gag again, cursing me and protesting. So I shocked her once more, just as painful as the first time but for a second longer. And then again. And more often after that.

I couldn't blame Hannah for her resistance. In fact I understood her very well: She knew that this was neither a joke nor a misunderstanding. I was planning to keep her in the bitch suit and I was going to break her, turn her into a dehumanized crfeature, less than a human. She had seen it happen to other girls, had done it herself to some. Playing along, thus, wasn't an option from her perspective. She knew that when a victim played along they accepted what was being done to them, and the 'play' became something permanent, and suddenly the person wasn't playing a role anymore, at all.

So Hannah didn't want to get into that sort of mindset. She wanted to resist and get concessions from me. In short: She wanted to show me that she was stronger.

So, to prove that I wasn't going to take shit from her, for every small sign of rebellion I punished her severely. She didn't obey a direct command? That meant a major shock, for at least some seconds. Tried to obey but wasn't fast enough with it? Another shock, maybe not as painful as the major ones. She didn't answer any of my rhetoric questions with a barking noise or a woof? You bet that every single time she didn't give me a 'woof' another painful zap hit her through the collar and her plug.

And I never looked her in the eyes even for a second.

I would have been afraid that I might kill her if Pete had not assured me that the collar could never kill a human - that it had been especially designed to activate the pain receptors in the most effective way, without much actual current being needed. So, since I trusted Pete, I shocked the shit out of Hannah relentlessly.

She was just tough, but she wasn't invincible. After several hours, the pain eventually got to her. Around noon I realized that I did not have to administer as many zaps as before: She woofed and barked now, for example when I said things like "Come girl, get over here", or "Sit and catch your breath for a moment." She came then, with hate in her eyes and foam on her snout, biting hard on the gag.

Those small signs of her weakening determination were all I got during the first day, but they were enough to infuse me with some hope. I became more and more determined to keep pursuing my strategy and show her that she would have no other chance then to adjust.

The second day was much like the first, but by now Hannah was at least a little more motivated to follow my commands: I had only granted her about five hours sleep. Being stuck in the heavy bondage was getting to her and she was stinking, hurting, tired, devastated. I imagine how it had to feel: Being caught in that hot, tight bitch suit, sweaty and restrained, muscles aching, drool seeping through the gag with still the foul taste of the mush that she'd been fed on her tongue. She could only see the world through the eyeholes in her mask, could only move by using her muscles in ways she had never used them before. The buttplug and wagging tail had to be immensely irritating, and maybe even more so the crotch-strap with those nobs that permanently dug themselves between her cuntlips.

Part of me wished that I knew what that strap did to her: Every time I loosened it in order to let my bitch do her business, her cunt was moist and her clit swollen. I assumed it was just due to mechanical causes - the stimulation provided by the strap and the plug in her ass. But I couldn't ask Hannah, and so I kept wondering for the first days while I relentlessly trained and punished her.

During the following days, while Hannahs' face was all over the news, smiling at me from my tv screen, grinning and waving from the pages of newspapers when I drove to the village to buy supplies, I concentrated on the milestones I had decided upon: After three days the bitch was supposed to obey all my general commands, after five days I expected her to have internalized when and how she had to bark. After fifteen days I hoped she would be fit enough to pass a simple obstacle course and after a month I hoped she'd be able to move on the bitch suit as if she'd never spent a young womans' life on her feet.

Hannah did not know about those milestones of course, and I'm pretty sure that after a few days she had completely lost track of time anyways. Every few days I used the small kit that Pete had provided me with: I drugged her with an ether-soaked rag, injected her with a longer lasting drug, freed her from the suit and cleaned her while she was unconscious. Waking up, she would find herself in the suit still/again. The realization of what I had done made her wail and protest like a madwoman, which only earned her some more zaps.

"Especially the love deprivation gets to her", I told Pete on the phone after fourteen days. "The fact that I never look her in the eyes makes her crazy. She's really beginning to freak out and trying to get my attention at all costs." Since Pete didn't understand what I was talking about I explained: "I had the idea when I was lying awake on my bed, right after I had promised you that I would find a way to impress you. I tried to devise a plan and I formulated some milestones, like I thought an experienced trainer would.

He giggled and I, consequently, told him to go fuck himself. But I smiled too. "Don't you laugh about me, I'm doing this shit for the first time in my life! Anyhow, I asked myself why dogs are so crazy about humans petting and praising them. I realized that dogs live in a small world, kind of. They are very dependent on their owners, they need their approval. I figured that a human who is held by a single captor will on some level want to be consoled. I figured that even a psycho like Hannah would begin to long for that kind of human feedback."

Pete didn't laugh anymore. He sounded impressed now. "I told you that you have a knack for this. 'Love deprivation', eh? It's not that different from the things some of us do. Stockholm Syndrome is a very real thing and you can use it as a tool in the process of break someone. But never trust your slave, never think you can free her. Never let your guard down."

"Did you ever let your guard down with MissBehavoiur?"

"Kind of. Well not in a physical sense. I wouldn't be so stupid to free a woman I kidnapped and enslaved and just hope that she'd not rat me out, like a naive fool. No, but I once dreamed of communicating with Miri..." He quickly corrected himself. "With MissBehaviour, I mean. She had already been a rubberdoll for about a year and I was desperate to hear her voice. I wanted to find out what her opinion was about what I had done to her. Let's just say that it didn't go very well. She will never again in her life get a chance to speak to any human being."

I nodded, feeling curiously dispassionate about that woman and her fate. "Well, I'm Hannahs' only attachment figure - the first person she sees in the morning, the last she sees before she gets blindfolded and locked in again. Fuck, I'm the *only* person who knows where she is and what is being done to her. In a way we are accomplices. It's a pretty sick relationship."

"You said she's beginning to freak out. How does that show?"

I smiled. "She's fighting for my attention. She barks much more eagerly now, she always tries to see if I'm looking at her. She makes attempts to have me look into her eyes and she gets really frustrated when I don't. Today I may have looked directly in her eyes just twice... yeah, I'm sure I did it only twice. The first time was when she mastered the obstacle course really fast and the second was when I told her to sit. She obeyed without thinking this time, and she obeyed really quickly. Both were remarkable steps forward, so I figured they warranted that I showed her some..."

"Love?" Peter laughed under his breath.

"Well, feedback. I wouldn't say I'm in 'love' with Hannah and she's definitely not in love with me."

"By the way, you should stop calling her by her human name", Pete advised. "They should never be allowed to keep their old names. For once it will always remind them of what they were before, in their old lives. It gets in the way of breaking them for good, allows them to keep of remnant of their old self. The other reason is that you want to show other Owners that you know the trade. People in our circles will only respect you if they see you act like a pro. And a pro wipes all trails that could help someone track a pet down."

After our conversation, watching the news, I thought about what Pete had said. Meanwhile Hannah's face was once again on every channel: A young, promising student had disappeared without a trace. People were intrigued, shocked and pretty close to a panic. Why had there not been a ransom demand? Was a madman on the prey? Had one of her many ex-lovers murdered the girl? The media was chasing its own tail and getting nowhere. If the cops were as clueless as the reporters then truly no one would ever connect Hannahs' disappearance to me.

Those pictures and short clips from private videos were so weird: Hannah laughing into the camera, wearing the dark dress I'd first met her in. Hannah in a tank top, waving at the photographer. Hannah sitting on a couch, looking slightly stoned, smiling so very charming in the middle of all her upper-class-friends. No one could guess from those photos what a fucking asshole and dangerous psychopath this girl had been.

I began to find it hilarious what kind of absurd secrets you can hide from people, even in plain sight.