Fun times in the basement pt. 1

	There's a constant pounding in the head of some unfortunate hellhound, one who now has joined the waking world. She's given a slight reprieve in the fact that there's barely any light in the room she's currently in, making looking around slightly easier. Her mouth's dry and the ground she slept is not soft at all. She'd kill for a glass of water she thinks to herself, that or for this stupid headache to leave. The party she went to last night must have been nice, it has to have been to justify the fierceness of this hangover.
	She looks around, seeing nothing but dark shapes and feeling hot and damp. Did she piss herself? She's either sweating heavily or she had an accident, neither would surprise her. There's a brief consideration to go to sleep, but she decides not to given the fact a concrete floor is not her friend.
	There's a question, why is she sleeping on a concrete floor? Where is she right now? She remembers drinking...alot, getting in a fight or two, drinking some more and the rest is kinda blank. Parties are nice especially when you're not invited, though maybe she bit off a bit more than she could chew.
	 Maybe its time to get up and assess her current predicament she thinks. But as she goes to move about she finds a new and exciting problem. There's something hard and metal around her neck. This disturbs her more than a bit as she starts grabbing and pulling at it, accomplishing nothing except for finding she's chained to the wall.
	“What the Fuck!?” she yells upsetting the poor nerves in her head. Deciding not to yell anymore she begins whispering.”Where the hell am I? What did I do last night?”
	She ponders for a moment, knowing her reputation she probably pissed off a lot of people in a drunken rampage. But no one could've taken her right? Even in her most piss drunk states she could take nearly anything! She would've know if she decided to take on a dragon or some demi-god like creature. Given the fact she wasn't dead this had to have been something of her own doing right?
	With halfhearted confidence she decides that has to be the answer, after which she decides to test the limits of the metal chained collar around her neck. With the herculean strength and confidence of a hellhound she begins attempting to pry the chains apart. After a few minutes no progress has been made, minus sweating like a dog and further angering herself.
	The only thing she's certain of at this point is that she hasn't pissed herself. Her baggy pants, an odd choice for a hellhound mind you, don't seem to have a moistness centered around her crotch. There's just a dampness all over her from this hot stuffy room. Every second only seems to increase the heat, which increases her frustration, which increases her anger and fuels the stupid currently crossing her mind.
	“Fuck it,” she mutters before scratching, pulling and jerking onto the chain. She does so until she thrashes against something, causing another something to tumble down and break. That's when her situation becomes much more interesting.
	Her hangover must've been stopping her from really paying attention to her surroundings since she notices the sparely furnished basement she occupies. There are now footsteps above her head. Immediate confusion, followed by anger are her immediate responses. Also cursing, a lot of cursing. She couldn't have been captured she's a hellhound goddammit! Even if she was how the hell did it happen?! This isn't how things work!
	Against her better judgment she decides to start screaming. “Hey you! Asshole! Let me out of here! Who the fuck do you think you are?” A normal person might show fear but any self respecting hellhound shows dominance in any situation, she thinks. Especially an alpha bitch like her.
	The reaction from the unknown person upstairs is to stop for a few seconds, followed by slightly slowing their pace. Did they hear her? Well they obviously did since they seem to be trying to spite the angry hellhound. Though her efforts are somewhat rewarded as she hears them coming closer, annoyingly slow but still.
	Then a door opens, flooding the room with skull shattering light. “Ahh god dammit turn that shit off!” the hungover puppy screams. Moments pass before the door is closed slightly, allowing her to focus a bit on whoever stands before her. “I thought I should give you a little break, since that hangover obviously hasn't been doin you any favors” the lanky man before her says. He's got short slightly curled orange hair, along with freckles and green eyes. He's a medium sized man with a small frame, who would've been considered cute by his captive audience had she not been absolutely furious.
	A staredown commences, followed by short lived screaming. “Who the Fuck!,”she recoils, only to return the stare and speak at a more reasonable volume,”Who the fuck are you? Why am I chained up and where am I?” These are all valid questions, answered only by a smug stare and an obvious question.
	“I'm guessing you're thirsty? Are you thirsty? My basement's kinda hot this time of year and you've been out for a while.” he replies. “Are you stupid or something? Yes I am! I'm fucking dying down here, tied up and pissed! If you know whats good for you you'll let me go!” is her answer.
	Ignoring the threats he takes a bottle of water from behind his back and takes a swig. A long and exaggerated one at that, making sure to let some of the fluid drip over the side of his mouth. “Wow that sure hit the spot, being here all night must've been killer. I'd love to give you some but first we've got to come to an agreement.”
	At this point she finds it easy to ignore the ceaseless pounding  in her head and launch a stream of volatile curses. All to the stupid smile on the face of a man she could easily beat to the ground, had she not been held back by an impossibly strong collar. Eventually she stops to catch her breath and recoil from the pain in her head. Either way it gives him a moment to reply to her hate.
	“Glad you're enjoying yourself down here, now about this agreement.” he pauses and takes another drink.”I'll gladly bring you an entire five gallon container of water, all for your enjoyment if you can do me a little favor.”
	“And what might this little favor be?” she asks venomously, baring her teeth as well. “Well I'm glad you didn't ask to be let go again, as that got a bit annoying. But since you asked so nicely, I'll tell you. Could you, I don't know, show me your tits?” he asks sweetly, going as far as to even lose the smug smile he was enjoying so much.
	She freezes with her mouth agape at the audacity of the little man before her. Standing at seven feet tall, as an alpha should, she easily dwarfs him by slightly less than a foot and a half. She's even slightly impressed at his intrusion of her privacy. But he already pissed her off, and that's a death sentence for anybody.
	The silence between them is only broken by him taking another drink, taunting her. Against all logic she lunges for him, only to be stopped by the nuisance around her neck. It makes her comically fall on her back once she reaches the end of the chain. To which he laughs a bit, takes another drink, and sits down just on the edge of her reach.
	“Look I know you've got your pride on the line, and you would literally die before giving me the satisfaction. But is it really worth it? I know hellhounds can't be tamed by men, that's not my intention no siree. For the moment I just want to know is dying really worth withholding that glorious rack of yours? Which no doubt everyone at the nightclub last night got to see.”
	His skills at persuasion are obviously notable, as she would rather live to rip him apart than die knowing she could have just lifted up her shirt and avoided that. Her natural stubbornness keeps her staring at him, flames flying from her eyes violently for minutes after the end of his speech. But the pounding in her head did anything but lessen up, only begin to violently thump harder at the thought of hydration.
	Slowly, never letting her soul piercing stare leave him, she begins to lift up her shirt. The least she could do to annoy him is tease him, carrying on much longer than it should take. At least she hopes it's annoying him, since his smug smile has returned, making her begin to doubt that. Eventually her shirt is tossed carelessly to the floor. A bra and baggy pants now protect the last shreds of dignity she has, the top of her large breasts glinting from the flames in her eyes.
	There's no real point in keeping him waiting, since it only prevents her from getting water longer. She goes to undo the bra, having trouble on account of having large powerful paws. But once done she lets the bra drop and breast bounce with a sigh of relief.
	“Holy shit, some mighty fine puppies you got there.” he says, admiring the breasts that would take several of his hands to possibly fill. “Thanks, glad you're enjoying the show.” she says, taking a mock pose with her large paws behind her head.
	“Aaaand stop right there, hold that position.” he calmly states, beginning to walk forward. Is he suicidal? Is he really doing that? His stupidity dumbfounds her, but only momentarily before she makes a toothy smile and begins to lunge forward. At least she tried to, the lunging forward part that is, the smile stayed. “Huh?”, she blurts out as confusion replaces her murderous smile.
	He continues his advancement to her frozen body, smile in tow, and begins to touch her breasts. Lifting the heavy things he admires their weight, wondering how long he could keep them up while slowly exploring her body. Feeling her self violated, a rather odd feeling for her kind, she tries to struggle or do anything to hurt this odd little man. Meanwhile he continues to examine her, noting the gentle but powerful curve of her abs, not completely defined but still there. He find her legs are also muscled with raw power beneath as he slides his hands beneath her pants, but still feminine and smooth along with her curving hips and supple ass.
	Moving is obliviously impossible she decides, maybe she should try and get some answers. “WHAT IN THE FUCK IS GOING ON!” she screams, looking down at him hoping he'll put a finger in her mouth to bite off. Instead he pinches her left nipple with a smug grin that would make a chesire cat jealous. She continues cursing, now so angry she tries to bite at him, catching only mouthfuls of air as he gropes her.
	“Mmmm, that's a good question, one I'll answer later if you're a good girl,” He begins to caress her big arms and the obviously strong muscles beneath,”But I feel like I've taken advantage of you a bit more than I intended.” With that he gives her nipple one final flick before heading up the stairs.
	The red-headed captor either forgot to close the door or was feeling particularly sadistic as the light now caused the hellhound's headache to return twice as hard. She pressed her eyes closed as hard as she could, still trying to move even an inch, and hoping that he would at least return with water when he got back.
	After what seemed like hours she hears him coming down the stair with heavy footsteps, holding a five gallon drum of water in his arms. He reaches the bottom and stops for a moment to catch his breath before moving behind her and shuffling around objects she couldn't see. He then goes for the drum, maneuvering it when she hears clanking and water being splashed around.
	Finally he goes back to the doorway and closes it slightly. “Alright, you can move now,” he says, her limbs now back under her control. She she stops short of lunging at him and strangling herself, and looks down to her water supply.
	...Its a fucking doggy bowl. She screams and lunges at him anyways, strangled once more followed by attempting to rip the chain out of the wall. “YOU FUCKING BASTARD FUCKTARD ASSHOLE!” are some of the choice words she uses. He listens to her rant and curse for many more minutes while he stares at her breasts jiggle and bounce.
	Eventually, a long eventually later the chain remains attached to the wall along with a very tuckered out and particularly belligerent hellhound. Panting heavily she gives a final tug before falling to the floor. “Once I get out -pant- I'm gonna rip your arms off -pant- and fuck your ass with'em.” She goes for several more deep breaths, only to be interrupted from her endless tirades.
	“As much as I enjoy hearing your colorful vocabulary I've got errands to run but please make yourself comfortable. I'll bring you some food later, also there's a bathroom to your left as well as a light switch. Ta ta for now Salina!” With a final smirk he stands up and leaves his furious captive to her own devices.
	How did he know her name? How the FUCK does he know know her name!!? Who the fuck is this guy? She sends a few more exhausted curses his way before slumping back over.
	She sits there a while longer staring into the darkness before looking back at the water bowl. He woudn't go as far as too put a camera down here would he? With the last bits of strength she can find she searches for maybe a cup to put water in, but ends in a fruitless search. Maybe she could just take out the container and tip it over slightly, to sip the water a bit more civilly? When she goes to look at the container once more she notices it covered in chains, bolted to the floor with the doggy bowl.
	Its not moving, and she doesn't feel like wasting any more energy in a fruitless search. Resigning herself to the fate chosen for her, she hunches over the bowl and begins lapping up the water. Its a long while before she comes up for a breath, only to go back down for another go. She tries not to think about the way she's being degraded, remembering that he hasn't tamed her, that this is just for her survival and eventual plot to murder him.
	With her hydration situation out of the way she goes back to sitting up and enjoying the darkness around her. There's some pillows she must have rolled off in her sleep, which she now climbs on top of to make her situation a little less shitty. “Oh boy I sure am one happy doggy.” Salina says dripping her words in sarcasm.
	“Oh I bet you are.” A voice replies.
	Surprises usually end up with several broken bones to the offender when Salina is involved. In this case she jumps and scrambles backwards wide eyed to look for the disembodied voice.
	“W-who the hell is that! Where the fuck are you!” the potty mouthed hellhound yells. The reply is a fit of laughter and chuckling. When the voice finally calms down Salina is greeted to the sight of two yellow eyes staring back at her. Its only a few moments before she realizes what is there.
	“You're a fucking chesire! Are you here with him! What do you want!” The cackling cat finally calms down and completely reveals herself, turning the lights on while doing so. Salina recoils and the intruder vanishes again. Reappearing on the opposite side of the room is a small casually dressed cheshire cat. With her kind's customary and near permanent grin she answer's the past question.
	“Oh that would be fun teasing and toying with you,” the cat says wiping a tear from her eye, but I feel just the teensiest bit bad for you, so I'll do you a single teensie favor and tell you one thing.” As she says this she pauses for dramatic effect, far to long for the fuming hellhound. “I'm not with him.”
	“Look I don't know who you are but it would be very nice of you to help me get out of here.” Salina adds with a sugary smile. She immediately drops it when the chesire bastard starts laughing again, though not for as long.
	“Oh boy! That sure is a funny joke you got there, it would be even funnier if you were serious!”
	Salina's rebuttal is a cold hard stare, along with her rattling the chain for additional effect.
	For a moment the intruder returns the stare albeit with no visible emotion, weird for a cheshire cat Salina thinks, followed by a wide shit-eating grin. “You don't remember much of last night do you?”
	The questions reverberates through the humid basement, settling into a silence while the cogs in Salina's head turn, trying to piece anything she could together from last night. As the seconds turn to minutes Salina's guest begins to grow bored, scratching absently at her ears. After a few minutes longer when no answer is given she gives a loud yawn before banishing the quiet.
	“Ya see this?” Salina looks up to see the cat grab her tail, her crooked tail. “You broke this last night, I didn't appreciate that then, and I don't appreciate it now. So while this heals and until I get a real apology I'm going to milk this situation for all its worth.”
	An even smugger grin than before replaces the intruder's smile, accompanied by a fit of giggles as the captive audience thrashes around looking for anything to bash the former's face in.
	“Well I really have enjoyed our conversation, but I have plans to make for you and a bed calling my name, ta-ta for now!” She says with a pop as she disappears
	Once again alone, probably, in the basement Salina angrily grits her teeth glaring at nothing in particular. The glare turns to a frown, which eventually turns to a sigh when she surrenders herself to the pillows on the ground. As before she daydreams about herself beating her captor, subjugating him and humiliating him in horrifying ways. She tries to fall asleep, but the long rest from before banished the possibility of going to sleep again.
	Looking around she hopes that maybe her kidnapper was generous enough to leave a gaming console or some form of entertainment. She briefly lights up remembering she has a phone for the first time this day, only to remember her pants are are empty.
	With no form of stimulation around, she lays down and imagines all the horrendous things shes going to do to her captor once freed.