bananas, a can of cold Coke and an entire bag of Oreos. Jane lay very still where she had dropped, hoping he would leave her there. He did. Brenda was calling him and, after three orgasms, he'd had enough of the frog for the night.
Jane ate both bananas and half of the cookies. Her stomach hurt but she didn't care. At least she wasn't hungry! She hid the other cookies around the room, hoping she wasn't being observed. She also hid the Coke. Her water bottle would suffice for now, though the water that came from it tasted of the plastic it was made of. She had already become adept at sucking on the little metal tube in her cage. She may be treated like an animal, but, she reminded herself, she was still alive. And because they had left her where she had fallen, they hadn't put her into the cage, and they hadn't locked the cage door with her inside. Life, even life here, had its bright points. She had food in her belly and an entire night of freedom in her little prison. She was almost happy.
The problem with getting the food was that her body was eventually forced to expel the waste. She was used to peeing in the drain now, and barely thought about it as she squatted over it and did her business as efficiently as possible, using a small strip of paper from the neat pile she had prepared. But now Jane had to move her bowels. For the first week she had been too terrified and had had so little to eat that she hadn't had to face this issue. Constipation born of clenched bowels and little food had so far spared Jane the embarrassment of being forced to defecate on newspaper on the floor. Now she felt the push of need as her intestines protested for release. She had held it in as long as she could and knew she would have to use the dreaded newspaper and relieve herself. The thought of her shit sitting there for her jailers to see was almost more humiliating than she could bear.
It was early morning, just after dawn, if she could judge by the pale light glimmering in through her window. At least it was unlikely that either of them was up and watching her on the closed circuit T.V. Going over to the newspapers, she squatted tentatively and tried to move her bowels, keeping her legs spread like she was at a campground behind a bush. She managed to relieve herself and was forced to use the strips of newspaper as her toilet paper. She tried to clean herself as best she could. The spigot was off limits without their presence and she didn't dare to use it.
There was nowhere to dispose of the waste. Jane rolled the newspaper up tightly, and used more papers from the stack in the corner to further bundle it. She put the package in the corner and tried to forget about it. When Brenda came in later that morning, she held her nose and said, "Frog, you disgusting little animal! It smells like a pig farm in here!" Jane bowed her head, deeply ashamed, but also enraged that she had been put into this situation. Of course they knew she had no choice, and yet they would tease and humiliate her for doing what her body required. Brenda made an elaborate show of removing the offensive package, dropping it into a large trash bag she brought in for the purpose.
Then Brenda did something Jane didn't know could be done. Using a small stepladder, Brenda climbed up to the window. She fished out her key ring and inserted a key into a small round lock under the panel, set in the molding. As she slid the window silently up she said, "Let's get a little air in here, frog."
Jane, who had retreated to her cage, turned away, hoping against hope that Brenda would leave, and leave the window open! She sensed instinctively that if she seemed to take notice of the lovely fresh air floating into the room that Brenda would take it away by shutting the window. Jane's heart was pounding at the revelation before her, as she tried to appear unaware. As if the gods were intervening on her behalf, Robert called to Brenda at just that moment, and Brenda said, "I'll be
Jane ate both bananas and half of the cookies. Her stomach hurt but she didn't care. At least she wasn't hungry! She hid the other cookies around the room, hoping she wasn't being observed. She also hid the Coke. Her water bottle would suffice for now, though the water that came from it tasted of the plastic it was made of. She had already become adept at sucking on the little metal tube in her cage. She may be treated like an animal, but, she reminded herself, she was still alive. And because they had left her where she had fallen, they hadn't put her into the cage, and they hadn't locked the cage door with her inside. Life, even life here, had its bright points. She had food in her belly and an entire night of freedom in her little prison. She was almost happy.
The problem with getting the food was that her body was eventually forced to expel the waste. She was used to peeing in the drain now, and barely thought about it as she squatted over it and did her business as efficiently as possible, using a small strip of paper from the neat pile she had prepared. But now Jane had to move her bowels. For the first week she had been too terrified and had had so little to eat that she hadn't had to face this issue. Constipation born of clenched bowels and little food had so far spared Jane the embarrassment of being forced to defecate on newspaper on the floor. Now she felt the push of need as her intestines protested for release. She had held it in as long as she could and knew she would have to use the dreaded newspaper and relieve herself. The thought of her shit sitting there for her jailers to see was almost more humiliating than she could bear.
It was early morning, just after dawn, if she could judge by the pale light glimmering in through her window. At least it was unlikely that either of them was up and watching her on the closed circuit T.V. Going over to the newspapers, she squatted tentatively and tried to move her bowels, keeping her legs spread like she was at a campground behind a bush. She managed to relieve herself and was forced to use the strips of newspaper as her toilet paper. She tried to clean herself as best she could. The spigot was off limits without their presence and she didn't dare to use it.
There was nowhere to dispose of the waste. Jane rolled the newspaper up tightly, and used more papers from the stack in the corner to further bundle it. She put the package in the corner and tried to forget about it. When Brenda came in later that morning, she held her nose and said, "Frog, you disgusting little animal! It smells like a pig farm in here!" Jane bowed her head, deeply ashamed, but also enraged that she had been put into this situation. Of course they knew she had no choice, and yet they would tease and humiliate her for doing what her body required. Brenda made an elaborate show of removing the offensive package, dropping it into a large trash bag she brought in for the purpose.
Then Brenda did something Jane didn't know could be done. Using a small stepladder, Brenda climbed up to the window. She fished out her key ring and inserted a key into a small round lock under the panel, set in the molding. As she slid the window silently up she said, "Let's get a little air in here, frog."
Jane, who had retreated to her cage, turned away, hoping against hope that Brenda would leave, and leave the window open! She sensed instinctively that if she seemed to take notice of the lovely fresh air floating into the room that Brenda would take it away by shutting the window. Jane's heart was pounding at the revelation before her, as she tried to appear unaware. As if the gods were intervening on her behalf, Robert called to Brenda at just that moment, and Brenda said, "I'll be
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