Stitched Up
(Buck-stitch Bitch vs Awl Anne)

Becky had the inclination to turn around and walk away to just let it go, but she shook it off. She gently knocked on the blue door and entered. She looked around the workshop, it was very much like her own but on a considerably larger scale. Anne had invested in some larger nicer machinery like top of the line sowing machines splitters and laser engravers. Becky, well she tried to be diplomatic. But there was an edge to her voice she couldn't suppress. “About those new designs of yours, funny they look just like all of my just finished designs”.

The words that came out of her mouth, they might have easily been interpreted as a threat. Anne scowled and looked over to the invader. She didn't say anything she got up from her workbench and picked up the first tool to hand. She waved them about advancing on Becky she looked nervous. Anne tried to threaten her with a pair of leather shears. The giant pair of scissors glinted ominously and she was getting closer to the invader. Becky was not backing up or ready to run, she was not frozen in fright either.
 
Anne was less than five feet from her not slowing not stopping, something was going to happen. Becky was getting very angry and simply knocked the weapon out of her would be attackers’ hand. Before Anne could really register what was going on Becky's knuckles connected with Anne's stomach and she crumpled to the floor at her rivals’ feet. The pair of leather shears were stuck buried two inches into the wooden floor boards. Becky had knocked Anne on her ass with a single hit. The fight was out of the winded woman, she was just there gasping trying to catch her breath holding her bruised stomach. Becky looked around the room. She just grabbed some packing tape a few turns around her provocateur's wrists and ankles and she was helpless. There was a whimper of fear and a few more turns of tape plus scraps of fabric to be certain that she would remain helpless and quiet.

Beck dealt with her quickly, just pulling her adversary over to her own packing area and stuffed her in a handy sack. It was a big old mail bag that was laid out ready to be filled with regular deliveries. The mail bag was sealed up with more turns of packing tape, the bulge inside did look a little suspicious and buxom. The sack, well its contents barely had any will left to struggle and scream. Becky dragged the burden over the floor then none to gently threw it into the back of her truck. It was almost as if Anne was in shock unable to process what had just happened to her.

It was a quiet short drive to deliver awful Anne to her awful fate. Any hesitation that Becky had once had evaporated when Anne had tried to stick a pair of scissors into her. Becky was really going to enjoy this. It had been a little bumpy down some of the trails that she had taken. The contents of the sack might have bumped around a little bit in the back, they were now a little more tenderised. She opened up the tail gate of her truck. It was with some pleasure that she dragged the sack to the edge of the gate. Lifted it out then let it drop the last few inches. There was a muffled groan of pain from the bag as it landed on the ground. From there Becky dragged her prisoner into her own workshop. She was really going to enjoy this, she was going to be incredibly thorough. The artisan made sure to check that the coast was clear. There was no sign of anyone about whatsoever, still she wanted privacy so she shut all the window blinds curtains and finally dead locked the door.

She rubbed her hands together in glee, it was time to see what she was working with. She had a box cutter in her hand and removed the packing tape. As she opened the bag there was a gasp, there probably wasn't a whole lot of air in there. She grabbed the bottom of the sack and gave it a sharp hard pull. Dumping the contents of the sack out with a thud. Anne hit the floor and rolled, she was still tied with her hands and feet taped together. She had been trying to pull herself free of the packing tape. It was far too tight to allow her a chance of escape. Her make-up was smeared where she has been crying in fear. Becky fell on the cowering woman below her, she pulled her wrists free then pulled them behind her back. Pushing the prisoner to the ground. She tied her victims thumbs together behind her with leather lace. Quickly she pulled her boots and socks off and then tied her toes together in a similar way. Anne looked like she was going to struggle, there was that defiant look back in her eyes. Becky made a fist and the red head whimpered and quietened down meek and frightened, Becky remembered back to how it had come to this.

South Candlefield and North Candlefield, you would have easily expected towns that almost had the same name to get along rather well, even neighbourly. But there had always been a rivalry between those two towns. They were founded almost a week apart by two separate branches of the Carroll family. As a result a large dose of healthy competition rivalry was present from the very beginning of their history. It presented itself in many forms, wither it was two good old boys on a flat stretch of road seeing who could drive faster. The football team's big annual game or who could build a better public library. One town had the better building the other actually had a decent collection of books on the shelves.

Whatever it was the two communities competed constantly and belligerently. A perfect example of this was the hate ... hate relationship that developed between artisans and businesses from both towns. Each one trying to outdo and push back against the other, for contracts business bragging rights and prestige.

A specific example was seen in two rival small time leather workers. Becky Carroll from north Candlefield and Anne Carroll from South Candlefield. Both could trace their ancestry back to the founding of the towns. Both considered that their family was the more prestigious and proper branch of the family, at least in the region. The South Carroll’s and the North Carroll’s had been almost on the edge of a roaring feud for four generations. They didn't meet in person that often, but when it did happen they didn't talk … at least civilly. It was bitter words, cold mean glances, metaphorical claws out and hackles up when they did.

Both ladies had their own online persona's Buck-Stitch Becky or the Buck-stitch Bitch as Anne called her behind her back. As well as Awl Anne or Awful Anne as Becky called her behind her back. They wouldn't work with each other if their lives depended on it. But they did due to their profession move in the same circles, suppliers distributes customers. They were always snippy towards each other in the forums. They bumped heads so often it was as if they gravitated towards each other looking for a fight or challenge.

In the local county area there was a strong tradition of saddlery and tannery work, livestock and oak shavings had produced high quality veg-tan leather for generations. So much so that in the local county there had been a leather working competition held every year in mid-July called the stitch off. It had run for the last 45 years. It was normally held in a large town hall, diplomatically not in either Candlefield but this year in a slightly larger town New Brunswick. It was a respectable competition where the various leather crafters brought in three examples of their work to be judged by their peers. Small prizes were awarded for first second and third place.

It was also place to sell and show off your work, a lot of leather-workers gathered together the bulk of them hobbyists. They had tables set up to sell off their wears and a lot of tourists came from all around to see the show. There were some demonstrations of leather craft. A lot of things were sold, that had a rustic quality to them. There were other artisans knife makers painters and quite a few food stalls. It was a friendly family atmosphere as long as the weather held, which it usually did there were a lot of attractions outside bordering the main hall.

The choices for what was made for the competition, the pieces specifications. They had been drawn up in advance by the panel of judges from the previous year. For this year the contestants had to make a messenger bag, that was made to a certain specification. Though they were free to embellish certain aspects as much as they wanted. They had a free hand in the selection of some of the hardware the type of material and dye etc. The second round was to make a belt to a certain specification, using a certain pattern of buckle. With a little freedom in a limited selection of embellishments that could be added. Then they could go fairly wild on the third and last item, which was usually where most people spent the majority of their effort. The competition attracted people from amateurs who did a little work on the kitchen table to professionals with their own studios full of people working for them and well as everyone in-between.

The main competition was presided over by a panel of 5 judges, all of them were either previous winners. Or people who have been professional leather workers for at the very least 20 years and really knew their stuff. Some were semi-retired some skilled hobbyists some ran their own business, a diversity of perspectives was encouraged. The stitch off was a relaxed mostly informal affair with a welcoming friendly atmosphere. Though the judges often got lumbered with quite a lot of the duties of organising the event as well as simply scoring the pieces presented for the competition.

So while there was some prestige to being invited to judge the event. There was also the high probability a lot of paperwork and scheduling was going to be involved as well. It wasn't a small community when you included everybody who else who ended up attended, it ended up as more of a general craft fair. There were only so many volunteering to do any more than turn up and buy a hot dog, so you got a fair rotation of judges.

Of course the two rivals go into the competition in a big way. Even if they acted somewhat against the spirit of the occasion. Both of them were not going to back down to a challenge and an opportunity to prove that they were the better crafts-person. Everything was being sold at the event from novelties to utility items. In the centre of the stage at the front of the hall the first round of the main event was just starting. The items for the first round of the competition ready for judging were set out on a large display stand with numbers indicating which project was which in place of the artists name. However the list of which contestant matched which number was held back so they were going in blind. Until the judges had made their decision, it was this way to try and produce a level of impartiality.

However Becky and Anna certainly knew each other’s styles and production techniques well enough that they could easily pick out each other’s work. The two of them had set up stalls on either side of the hall selling their own leather work, they were not just hear to compete. Becky was next to a stall selling items made from cut polished stone and Anne working next to a person specializing in old west style cowboy belts. The crowed milled about now moving away from the tables towards the front of the hall. The judges made their decisions after examining everything and when the name board was put out against the numbers. The two rivals were even Stevens equal marks even in the first round, for the moment joint first place.

The results delivered the crowd drifted back to the food stands and the produce stalls for half an hour. Then there was an announcement, for the second round of the stitch off a big rack of belts was centre stage. In the same manner as the first round they were all labelled up with numbers. It had been prepared off stage and then it was wheeled out to the front. More people watched as the judges picked them up handled each product inspecting them closely. Then with the judges having cast their vote a large card with the names and which belt was made by who was placed next to the stand. It also had the business of the various people who were competing a bit of free advertising. The people around Becky could hear her teeth grating as Awl Anne's logo was slightly more prominent than hers.

Anne also pulled ahead just slightly in the second round, getting the second best score. This time Becky only managed to get the third best score. But it was not over yet, not by a long way! The crowds departed to get a drink something to eat or both. In the meantime some of the belts that hadn't won were sold off. Then it was time for the last round of the competition. The crowd of people gathered around a long table with a sheet over it. This little display occupied one end of the hall. In the third round there was all to play for between the two rivals. Anne had a slight lead but it was hardly insurmountable, the sheet was pulled away and the last round of judging could begin. Becky smirked, she could see Anne almost going green with envy as the cloth was lifted.

In the last round Becky had entered a stamped engraved painted saddle that just blew the competition away. Where Anne had entered a rather nice very complex purse, it just wasn't good enough to compete on that level. Anne knew that she might at most scrape bronze in this round. Anne just hadn't put in the time to win with a big fancy central show piece like that. She had other plans, there were of course other ways to win.

It took some time for the last round, the judges had to look over every piece in detail. But the judges eventually awarded the third round to Becky. With her win she more than just passed Anne in the scoring. There was a little congratulatory speech, some dirty looks across the room between the two rivals, and Becky had a prize box. It consisted of a nice shiny medal proclaiming first place in the 45th annual stitch off. There was a bundle of leather supplies and coupons that would be useful to anyone in the trade. Becky could feel the pride swelling in her chest, she had worked on and off for months on that saddle. Paper cups full of something with a bit of kick to it, probably some sort of artisan moonshine were passed around. They celebrated the warm friendly atmosphere and a toast to good sportsmanship. A similar but considerably smaller box for second prize found its way to Anne.

Becky was patiently waiting for Anne to explode, for her to start ranting how things were not fair and then storm out. She kept waiting as the event came to a close and everyone started to pack up. But Anne she didn't lose it. She was just quiet cold and calculating. Almost as if there was something else going on. She was not normally a good loser, for that matter Becky wasn't exactly brimming full of sportsmanship when she lost either. It made Becky wonder there was a twinge of unease up her spine. It seemed to her, that her rival might have had the last laugh, in some way.

She reasoned that she better check that her tires were not spiked or her tank was full of sugar or something along those lines. She had once fished a bundle of leather scraps out of her tail pipe. Becky's suspicions crystallised when she went back to her display table. Everything seemed to have been moved but nothing was gone. She found her laptop out of the bag she had custom made for it. She didn't remember leaving it open. Her entire business was on that device, well all the info on her business. She checked to make sure it wasn't wiped or corrupted, but no it all seemed to be ok, everything on the surface appeared to be fine.

It was not that much later when what had actually happened began to slowly reveal itself. There was something that got the winner of the stitch off really very angry. When Becky opened up her computer and looked as she often did at the competition, she got a very nasty shock. On Anne's website there was a new product on offer. It was a bag that Becky swore looked exactly like one of hers. But it wasn't just Anne copying one of her designs, it was something that she hadn't even put into production yet. She almost spat her mouthful of coffee over the desk in consternation.

The two of them had competed with each other. If say one of them made a wallet with four pockets the other made a wallet with five pockets. That happened fairly often when they tried to outdo each other. Now though she was certain someone had stolen her designs. Becky got onto an IT specialist about checking her laptop. There was proof that that someone, presumably Anne had gotten into her computer and stole all of her designs by copying all of her files. Becky started to get really mad as over the next week she saw Anne making more things that looked exactly like something she had designed and hasn't started to even produce and sell yet.

Soon Becky was rabid, absolutely hopping mad with anger. Anne had dared to use her designs. They represented hundreds of hours of her hard work drafting them. As well as a lot of trial an error prototyping. So many refinements and modifications to make them work. Anne had struck it big from that bit of espionage. She was able to gets several professional contracts to supply those items. It was all based on all of Becky's hard work. Awful Anne wasn't even producing most of them herself! She had contracted out the work to a larger workshop making the bags for her, unlike Becky's home-made hand stitched items. She was also selling them from her own website and direct to retail stores with the aforementioned contracts now in place, delivery agreements signed.

Obviously, that really pissed off Becky pushing her close to the edge of what she could take. So of course the outraged artisan was left planning her revenge. Initially she thought about lawyers and then suing Anne into oblivion. But then Anne's had a brother who was an attorney. So Becky might end up on the losing end of that one. Or at least pushing a case so gummed up in paperwork that she couldn't move forwards. Her lips twisted into a cruel smile and she cracked her knuckles. She had made a decision. She was going to cross a line and do something to put it mildly, unprofessional directly to Anne.

Becky was quite tall with a darker shade of blond hair, which she kept short in a tom boy cut. She was a lanky skinny girl a long glass of water. To put it mildly most other women were better developed in certain regions. She had a nice pair of legs and a cute little tush, but she was as flat as an ironing board on top. Her face was not traditionally beautiful but would easily pass for cute, if she wasn't glowering at Anne. She had an upturned nose that was small and feminine, she had a strange set of ash blue eyes, a swirling mix of grey and blue. She was lean with not an ounce of fat on her frame. But that didn't mean she was weak, she wasn't a stick figure. She had quite a bit of muscle, especially in her upper arms as she mostly used a hand cranked stitcher or hand sowed her leather. Becky was considered tall in those parts at Five foot eleven. Against Anne she would tower over her rival but for a few accessories.

Anne was only five foot 3 inches in height, not tall at all. She was a little sensitive about her height. Though people didn't exactly focus on her height when they laid eyes on her. Most people, well a certain demographic would call her nicely stacked. She had two rather generous promotional assets at the shop front, as well as a little touch of lower back pain. A round little bottom that was cheekily rolling behind her. She had a natural shade of dull red hair, that went down to her waist. She kept it out of the way in a plat. Her face was petty, beautiful even. Her eyes were crisp green, she had nice cheek bones. Anne always wore high heeled boots that she made herself. To make up for her short stature, she elevated herself up by 4 or 5 inches depending on the pair of boots.

Becky was really angry, she was not paying quite as much attention to her work as she usually did. As a result she had to pick apart and re-stitch several seams that she was working on. She stopped dissembling and reassembling the same piece of leather her work halted by her frustration. She left it until late when it would be very quiet to pay her rival a little visit. She had a plan of how she could deal with this situation. She had decided to talk to Anne first, before she went ahead with her other idea. There might be a way that this could end on more amicable ground. It would be better than what she was planning. Really, she wanted to alleviate her consciousness by giving her rival one more slim chance. Before she went ahead with what she really wanted to do to her! Then she could tell herself it was all Anne's fault. She could absolve her own conscience that what she was planning to do was the only real way forwards to deal with the little claim jumper.

Using quite back-roads she went round the long way to her rival’s place of business, to settle things one way or another. Becky parked up down the road, a little way off from her target. She just sat there waiting behind the steering wheel of her vehicle. Thinking to herself in the approaching grey dusk. She went over it in her head again and again. Was she prepared to do something rather drastic if all diplomatic resolutions had been exhausted? She was parked off in the brush to the side of the road where it would be hard to find her, if you were just driving along the road she wouldn't be noticed. She had a rather nondescript white pick-up truck that looked like every second vehicle in these parts. She waited until it was fully dark, she set her jaw and gritted her teeth. She was going to go ahead with it. She got out slowly shutting the door, walking quietly and carefully over to the workshop that belonged to Anne.

Her reminiscing over, Becky walked over to her own tool bench and casually picked up her own leather shears. She stood over Anne who started begging and crying hysterically into the gag. Becky opened and closed the blades in front of her face. Anne screwed up her eyes and started to whimper. For a moment she thought that she was going to be gutted, the same way she had tried unsuccessfully to stick Becky with her shears. Instead Becky began to cut all of Anne's clothes off. First her jacket then her t-shirt bra, finally moving lower onto her jeans and thong panties. This process left her completely naked apart from a few scraps of leather holding her thumbs and big toes in place.

There was rather a lot of Anne spilling out on the floor without her bra. She was turning red from embarrassment at this humiliating display. Her bottom was sticking up, it looked like it was ready for a spanking. Becky took a good long look at her captive, without her heels she looked a lot less intimidating. A lot more vulnerable with her reduced height and lack of clothing. Her stature having seemingly shrunk. Becky put her shears back and binned the scraps of fabric that had once been Anne's clothes.

She went to a bin by the side of her work bench. Rummaging around she got a lot of leather scraps, they were all fairly thin offcuts. Becky filled a bowl with water and got the scraps wet. Then she rolled one bit into a tight ball, then it was a simple process to wraps more and more scraps over and around it. She moulded them all into a big old round ball. When she ran out of scraps it was nearly the size of her fist but very solid. Then to complete the item she wrapped a piece of chrome tan leather over it. She was making what was effectively a crude very dense leather ball, almost like an old fashion cricket ball.

It took her a few minutes to stitch it together with a baseball stitch pattern. So that the chrome tan material was stretched tightly over the wet roughly round mass. In the end it was a bit bigger and fatter than a tennis ball. Anne watched all this and wondered what the hell was going on. What was her rival going to do with that thing? There was a perplexed and worried look on Anne's face and a smug grin on Becky's face, as she advanced on her pathetically struggling prey.

Becky removed the improvised gag then grabbed her prisoners nose hooking two fingers in her nostrils and pulling up. In surprise Anne opened her mouth and Becky shoved the brand new ball tightly into the waiting pie hole provided. It was a little too large to go in all the way on the first attempt, so she needed to force her prisoners mouth open a bit further. Anne was turning red trying to beg with her eyes, trying ineffectively to shake her head. She was sure that there was no way that the ball could fit inside her jaw. However Becky had a very different opinion of what was going to be possible.

Becky shoved extra hard with both her hands, pushing forward with her palms pressed up against the ball. Anne's skull was pushed against the floor boards. She wasn't sure if the ligaments in her jaw stretched or the ball deformed. But her captor managed to get it all the way in. It popped into place seated tight right behind Anne's teeth. Becky grinned and took a step back leaving her prisoner to come to terms with this addition to her bondage. She waited and watcher, whatever Anne did she couldn't get it out, it was too firmly wedged in place, and Anne couldn't get her hands round the front to help her.

Becky began to search through her pattern archive, she knew that she had what she was looking for somewhere. It had to be there, her archiving system couldn't be that bad? Then she found it, she had a pattern for a high security dog muzzle. Designed to quieten rather aggressive canines held in her hands. There were some notes and A paper template for the right shape. She adapted it quickly to create a gag for Anne. Shortening it so that it would cruelly force the ball deeper into place. Half the leather she used was off cuts and scraps. She didn't finish it nicely she didn't even make the straps a consistent size. She didn't need to, she was just build it as quickly as possible.

Anne was panicking and crying as the ominous product of Becky's labour was dangled in front of her eyes. She tried ever so hard to pull her thumbs lose, but the leather entwining her thumbs held them painfully secure, her struggling just made her jiggle. The prisoner couldn't get away as the leather contraption was wrapped and stretched punishingly tight around her head. It was pulled shut with constant pressure until the massive gag was being shoved even deeper into her mouth. There was no reprieve as Becky riveted the thick tight leather together with rivets. She was crushing them shut with a pair of mole grips. It bent the rivets a little but they were still very effectively seated and would be very hard to remove. There was now absolutely no way to get the thing off without cutting it off or drilling the rivets out. Anne was very quiet and very terrified. She had no access to such tools in her current predicament and she was finding it hard to breath with the mass in her jaw compressed down by the equally horrific muzzle that was clinging to her jaw. She couldn't get enough air to even think about resisting. Still she knew it was going to get far far worse, judging by the look in Becky's eyes. In what way it was going to get worse she just wasn't sure, yet she knew it was a certainty that this was only the beginning.

Becky rummaged in a box of supplies and pulled out a large container that jingled ominously with a and clinking metallic sound. She dug out something and then closed the box, she moved over to Anne and grinned malevolently. Her prisoner was wondering what the hell was in her abductor’s hands. Becky showed her and Anne almost had a fit, she tried to pull away. She tried to protect herself from the inevitable escalation in her mounting suffering. Becky laughed and rolled Anne back in place so that her back was to the floor and her front was exposed.

As a leather worker Becky used bulldog clips to hold some leather working projects together while the glue she used dried. She repurposes two of the largest nastiest and heaviest clips she has to act as nipple claps. It was a moments effort to fasten them on Anne's exposed tits covering the pointed tips completely. Which was of course utter agony to the poor girls’ sensitive nipples. Her delicate buds were utterly crushed by the cold unrelenting metal. The sensation really made Anne test her gag. It passed the test with flying colours, very effective at muffling her screams. No matter how hard she struggled shook or jiggled, the clamps remained in place torturing her.

Becky left her prisoner a whimpering helpless ball blubbering in the corner of her workshop. She had a few new presents to make for her. The industrious woman used a modified version of a coin pouch pattern to make a pair of very heavy duty leather mittens just for Anne. A little adjustment to her prisoners’ bonds with a belt around her elbows to render her manageable. Then Becky filed them with leather glue then stitched them shut over her prisoners’ hands. The end product was so tight that they could only ever be cut off. There would be absolutely no use from the bound woman's fingers sealed up in all the thick leather and setting glue. Anne was terrified she knew how much effort it was to remove that glue once it had set also having her elbows touching with the tight belt wasn't exactly pleasant either.

Becky used a pattern for some leather vambraces for an archer as the basis to make some very secure wrist cuffs. Which she used to cover Anne's arms tightly from wrist to elbow. Fastening the next layer of restrains Becky secured them in place with touch weld glue rivets. There was no way to get them off and no way to get to the layer under them that was still setting. The mittens were staying on Anne's arms. They were starting to become very inflexibly. Her fingers and wrists were completely covered up. Anne was terrified whimpering into the muffling leather. Helpless bound held in this position with her elbows strapped together. Knowing that her bondage was only going to get progressively worse as her captor vented all of her built up anger from a decade of competition. Already her jaw was going numb her fingers were going numb, there was no hope of freeing herself or shouting for help. From this point on it was going to get truly punishing and Anne knew it.

Becky put Anne into a strict strapedo tie, to keep her out of the way. Wrapping a rope around her wrists and hauling them up in the air until the woman's arms were nearly pointed at the ceiling. Leaving her stretched to the extreme, her toes just touching the floor in an effort to remain stable. Anne's body was contorted to a position where she was utterly helpless. Becky slapped her on the ass “you nice and cosy? Now just stay out of the way”. She had to remain stretched while Becky worked on the next item. The blond had a design for a very snug woman's leather jacket on the table. It would serve as a foundation for what she envisaged using against Anne to properly package her. She used that template as a base for a new garment that Anne would soon be wearing. Something that would soon dramatically increase her suffering.

When constructing the jacket Becky made the sleeves a little longer going well past Anne's fingertips. The selves were also a lot narrower leaving no room for movement. The waist on the finished garment would be a hell of a lot tighter. Many elements were stripped away. There was no need for pockets or anything else like that. For the collar of the garment Becky had a wicked idea. She had a pattern for a medieval neck guard a gorget. She incorporated that into the design but made it a lot tighter narrower and higher. So that there would be no room for her prisoner to move her head at all.

It was not a small task, even if she wasn't making the jacket to a high finish. Becky was making it as solid and rigid as she could. She skipped several steps like dyeing the leather or lining it with something soft or treating it with anything to make the inside more comfortable. After a few hours on her hand cranked patcher sewing machine she had a garment ready to apply it to her prisoner. Of course she had left Anne in a position where she could twist her head to watch her rival slowly assemble the instrument of her punishment and confinement.

Anne was so tiered from the strapedo tie from balancing on her aching legs her strained toes that she barely had any fight in her at all. Becky undid the rope and Anne collapsed to the floor barely able to move her arms and legs. She was so sore from the prolonged punishment of the position that she had been forced to endure, she could barely move even when the tension was released in fact it was all that had been holding her up.

The jacket was not going to be the only new punishment that she would endure at Becky's hands. The base of her large breasts were wrapped in copious quantities of wet rawhide. Turn after agonizing turn until she was crying into her stifling gag from the unforgiving pressure. Her arms were released from behind her momentarily. Then Becky forced the stiff limbs into the jacket sleeves. There were some gaps on the sleeves but they were quickly hand stitched shut making them excruciatingly tight. The tight leather around her flesh was making Anne cry and sob into her muffling gag. It wasn't quite over yet as the arm bondage was then reinforced with a couple of straps that were riveted shut. Anne despaired, she had no chance of ever getting herself free from this hellish garment.

It had only been a few minutes but already Anne could feel her arms going numb from the pressure on them, one strain replaced with another without any time to recover. Soon her arms would be the least of her troubles, even with the gag. At that precise moment she was lucky enough that she could still take a decent breath of air through her nose. That was soon going to change! The back of the jacket from waist to neck had a rather large gap. The gap had reinforcing eyelets and it was slowly laced up with wet rawhide strips that would contract considerably over time. Becky really relished lacing the back of the jacket tighter and tighter. Slowly watching that line of naked flesh grow smaller and smaller. Then seemingly disappear altogether between the crushing leather. While Anne was desperately begging and crying and squirming beneath her captor’s creation.

Then the heavier elements of the garments ridiculously secure construction were brought into play. Features that would truly elevate it from an unpleasant restraint into a dire punishment. There were heavy nylon ratchet straps ready to really enhance the garments tight fit. Seven of them were riveted in place down the back of the jacket. They were securely tightened slowly, the end of the strap was fed into the mechanism. Then pull by pull it was drawn tight crushing the flesh beneath. Then after a break to regain her breath Becky did the same again.

Slack was created and the laces were pulled even tighter. Anne's waist was nipped in really tightly as if she was being slowly bisected. Becky had created a corset effect using all her height weight and leverage to make Anne's waist disappear. Anne could feel her waist her ribs they were being crushed by the pressure from belts and straps and laces. The poor captive was being choked at the neck by the tight strap around her throat. Her arms had not even been tied in place yet and it was already a hell so tight her arms were parallelized. She had absolutely no chance of escaping her confinement and she knew it.

The red head could hardly breath as the back of the jacket was sealed with a range or methods that seemed to her to be ridiculous overkill. Becky hand stitched the edges in place, she used leather cement compound glued, she even used a set of heavy rivets. Then finally over all that she sealed the garment shut with a flap of leather over the top so it was harder to access the back of the jacket where all the various fastenings were hidden. Anne's arms barely resisted the movement as they were forced behind her. She could barely breath let alone resist. The tips of the sleeves were fed through loops on the back of the jacket behind her back. Then the ends were firmly strapped in front of her, twisting her arms into a secure knot.

She was held in a painful position with her shoulders wrenched back her elbow crossed behind her and her wrists coming round the front. A bundle of reinforcing straps were then employed, wound around and through the jacket. The largest strap included a 4 inch diameter one at her waist a set of two inch diameter straps above and below her breasts and a three inch strap like a collar around her neck a redundant layer of punishment. The next layer was bolted and riveted shut with absolutely no way to easily get her out. Anne could see no end to this nightmare, she could barely breath in the jacket she could barely stand with its considerable weight.

New desperate terror sparked in Anne's tear filled eyes as she saw what was in store for her next. A moment later and she was kneeling as Becky sat on a chair. Anne's head was held in a suffocating humiliating lock between Becky's thighs, she couldn't get away. The captive was whimpering as Becky slowly savoured shaving all her hair off. She removed most of her prisoner’s hair with clippers, then shaves the stubble down to nothing with a razor. It was particularity satisfying to watch Anne's last bit of self-esteem and ego crumble as her long hair was cut away. To make it even worse, so that the results would be felt for a long time. Becky used a long lasting depilatory agent and an extremely itchy product used on animal hide rubbing it all over her prisoners naked scalp.

The weeping pitiful thing that had one been Awl Anne knew that her hair would not be growing back any time soon. The chemical agent was starting to sting against her scalp but as a small mercy Becky wiped it away and cleaned her scalp down. Before her prisoner could really come to terms with losing her locks she was in for an unpleasant surprise. Without warning her captor pulled a tiny wet sopping wet calfskin hood over her head. It only had a very small hole for her nose to poke through. It was a real struggle to force it on. It was stretched super tight over her head, even without the back being closed. Becky grinned as she slowly stitched the back shut sealing it in place with a whip stitch. It would dry out and shrink even tighter! Very soon it would feel like Anne's head was trapped in a vice. Well her head already feet like it was in a vice. It was just going to get progressively worse over the next few hours and she has no way to relieve her escalating suffering!

With the way her head was twitching Becky considered Anne might be a tad claustrophobic. Becky changed her prisoners’ position into something even more humiliating. Pushing her onto her back, forcing her legs wide open and kneeling down on her to keep her in place with her legs spread vulnerable and accessible, Anne dreaded to think what she was going to endure spread open like this. Becky set about shaved Anne's pussy clean, removing every trace of curly red hair just to humiliate her. Then she decided to use more depilatory cream to stop that hair growing back, just to add a bit more sting. With Anne's pussy burning from the unsubtle sting of the depilatory cream Becky teased the helpless slut with her gloved fingers. Anne became incredibly aroused despite the suffocating layers of bondage and her abject humiliation and defeat. Becky revealed her next surprise. She had picked up a couple of Anne's burnishing tools from her rivals’ workshop on the way out. But the buck-stitch bitch had no intention of using them for their intended purpose.

They are big round ribbed wooden tools that were spun in a machine to edge leather to slick them down and finish off projects. Becky greased them up with oil then stuffed one in her leather bound prisoner’s pussy and one deep into her clenched ass. Despite her forceful pushing the tools were still sticking out of her victims’ body, Anne was now in a huge amount of additional pain. The victim knew that it was not over yet, she had the chance to watch her captor prepare. Becky got to the crotch strap making it so tight that both of the wooden objects sank all the way into Anne's holes. She couldn't do anything about it not even scream, the mass of the gag prevented that.

The Ebony burnisher was nine inches long, it was shoved cruelly up Anne's ass sitting in her rectum, for the foreseeable future. A much wider object designed to be spun in a bench mount was rammed in her pussy uncomfortably tight inside her body. Now it was time for Anne to get a spanking, right on her round bottom, until it was a bright angry cherry red mass of subjugating humiliation and bruised pain. Just when she through it was over the crotch strap was pulled a little bit tighter. Pressing the hard wood even deeper into her abused stretched horny holes.

Anne was reduced to a pair of nice shapely legs sticking out of a punishingly tight bundle of leather. Becky surveyed her work, she believed even at this stage that she was only about half done! There was still a good way to go before she was happy that Anne was properly packaged for her impending trip. She set about rectifying that situation, tying her prisoners’ legs in place. Forcing her ankles to rest against her thighs. Keeping them strictly in that position with lots of wet rawhide straps. In this situation Becky felt there was no kill like overkill. She added stitched leg sheaths over each doubled up limb, of course making them sadistically tight in the process. They were glued stitched and riveted in place much like the back of the jacket.

Becky gave her fingers a rest getting herself a coffee and taking a break for fifteen minutes. She watched Anne experiment with her very limited mobility. A short break before she started on adding the last couple of layers. She had quite a novel idea to use on the helpless bundle before her. Something quite unique to use upon her sadistically packaged victim. She had a ridiculously large lacing needle some ten inches long and an idea of how to properly employ it. Anne was moved to the centre of the room, a large pile of leather was dropped on the floor next to her. She didn't know what was going on as her knees were pressed to her chest and a strap was used to hold her in a ball tie.

Becky set about bundling her abductee up in even more sadistic layers of restraints. Slowly turning her from something that looked like a person into something closer to a leather inspired art instillation. She wove Anne into a piece of sculpture using lots of five yard by inch wide strips of leather. She actually worked them into a woven cocoon. Moving the leather in and out under and over around her victims’ body. It was very artistic forming an intricate braid, it did also form a sadistically tight ball tie. Of course the leather was damp to make it a bit more pliable. When it dried out a bit it would be really tight, very solid indeed and of course shrink a little bit.

Anne tucked in the last leather edge, she ran her hand down the side of her work and took a step back. Her revenge was almost complete as she walked around and admired the view. The thief who had dared to steal her hard work was now bundled in an almost unimaginably tight leather prison that was crushing her voluptuous body. Anne's feminine curves could just be seen through the tight leather, her bulging breasts and round bottom could still be noticed squeezed between the inhumanly tight leather encircling her folded imprisoned body.

Anne could wiggle her toes a little and that was all! She was terrified about what the future held for her. Was Becky going to keep her tied up like this? Was she going to be sold as a sex slave? Was she now Becky's sex slave? She had to wonder, was there some other dark fate awaiting her? Only Becky knew and she was not going to give the surprise away. The next and last item on the agenda was made ready. Becky had a leather travel case that she had been working on as a trial run of a particular design. It was not that large and she hadn't finished it just yet. But she reckoned with a lot force she could make the artistic package that contained Anne just fit inside it. She hasn't put the zip in it yet, so it was effectively only half finished.

She shoved Anne inside one half of the case and made sure that the other side had plenty of air holes. Becky closed the case with a lot of force. using a couple of straps to hold it in place while she worked. The crafts woman set about working on the last leg, stitching the outside of the case shut with large heavy waxed thread. It took her perhaps an hour. Then the ends of the thread were tied into a complex knot and then melted on to each other with a lighter. One last pass of reinforcement so that there was no way to pick the knot open.

Becky patted the leather bundle on the side as she arranged for the last element of her plan. For the case to be sent to a particularly sadistic lesbian dominatrix. Someone she knew who ordered sadistic custom made paddles restraints etc. from various leather workers. Anne's final destination and ultimate end was to be the plaything of said extreme mistress. A Dom with a really unhealthy sadistic streak. She had been known to just keep some female clients in little cages in her basement permanently or so the rumour went, and yet such rumours attracted clients rather than scaring them away.

Anne would find out herself if those rumours were true. Once the dominatrix eventually unwrapped her new package. Not that she would be in a great hurry to unwrap her package once she realized what exactly it was. Now Becky would have to wait for the delivery driver, and she did chose the slowest delivery option that they had. There was plenty of time for Anne to get to enjoy her travelling accommodation. Becky checked that all the air holes were in place and the package was ready to go, she wouldn't miss the competition ... good bye Awful Anne.

The end of the stitch up.