right back; don't go anywhere." Laughing at her own joke, she left the room, locking it behind her. Jane waited a few moments to make sure her jailer wasn't coming back right away, and then slowly walked over to the window.
She stood on tiptoe, trying to get a breath of the fresh air wafting in. It smelled so sweet! Like clover and honey and fresh rain. When she had been free, she rarely noticed the weather, except when it inconvenienced her by raining. Now she felt a longing that was physical in its intensity. To leave this little room which had become her shrunken universe. To be free! This window could open! It was a small window, but she was a small person, made smaller still by her
enforced diet. At 5'3" and barely 100 pounds, she could possibly wriggle her way through. If she could get up that high.
How had she missed that little lock before? She examined it now, seeing that it was cut neatly into the molding, very hard to see unless you knew to look for it. She must get that key. Somehow, she must get that key. Somehow, she would get that key.
***
Robert liked to watch women take a shit. There was something so degrading, so wildly sexy about their total debasement as he spied on this most private and intimate of acts. Unfortunately, though he had spent many hours secretly watching Jane on the closed circuit T.V., she hadn't moved her bowels in front of him. Then, when she finally did it, as reported by Brenda, she had waited until they were sleeping, the little sneak! Well, today that would change.
This particular afternoon Brenda was busy getting beautiful at the hair salon. To make sure he got what he was after, Robert decided to give the frog a special treat. A lovely bowl of chocolate ice cream. But the syrup he squirted over it was laced with Maltitol, a sweetener with a decided laxative effect. He watched her eat it, though he could see she would rather have been left alone. He would make sure she ate every bite.
Several hours later, he was pleased to observe through the camera that Jane was clasping her belly in seeming distress. Yes, she should be heading to the newspaper soon.
He wasn't disappointed. Slowly Jane rose from her blankets and moved to the paper, still clutching her belly. She squatted and Robert watched with eager anticipation, leaning forward toward the screen. He massaged his cock at the kitchen table, his hand flying over the rigid member as he watched the little slut relieve herself on the papers, just like a dog. Even though she was alone, he saw the dark blush of shame spread along her cheeks. The Maltitol had done its work, leaving her stool a runny gooey mess. She tried to clean herself at the spigot, an act strictly forbidden and which he duly noted. At last she carefully rolled the soiled newspaper and set it against the wall.
To his added delight, she squatted over the drain and peed. Robert spurted then and there on the table, jerking forward as he came hard. Just then he heard the sound of the electric garage door opening. Brenda was back. Quickly he tucked his spent cock back into his pants. Robert was sprawled on the living room couch, and appeared to be engrossed in a novel, sipping a soda, when Brenda entered, her auburn hair highlighted with blonde and her long red nails freshly lacquered.
Though Robert omitted telling Brenda of his use of Maltitol (Brenda found his obsession with feces peculiar), he didn't omit the fact that he had seen Jane taking a dump and then using the spigot without permission. Brenda was eager to make the little bitch pay for that one, as he had known she would be. She seemed to take special pleasure in humiliating the wretched girl.
Brenda changed into 'play clothes' and then they burst into her room, chiding Jane for the smell; shaming her for an act she couldn't control. When Brenda casually informed her that using the spigot without permission was forbidden and that she would be punished, Jane flushed a deep pink, feeling the heat of her
She stood on tiptoe, trying to get a breath of the fresh air wafting in. It smelled so sweet! Like clover and honey and fresh rain. When she had been free, she rarely noticed the weather, except when it inconvenienced her by raining. Now she felt a longing that was physical in its intensity. To leave this little room which had become her shrunken universe. To be free! This window could open! It was a small window, but she was a small person, made smaller still by her
enforced diet. At 5'3" and barely 100 pounds, she could possibly wriggle her way through. If she could get up that high.
How had she missed that little lock before? She examined it now, seeing that it was cut neatly into the molding, very hard to see unless you knew to look for it. She must get that key. Somehow, she must get that key. Somehow, she would get that key.
***
Robert liked to watch women take a shit. There was something so degrading, so wildly sexy about their total debasement as he spied on this most private and intimate of acts. Unfortunately, though he had spent many hours secretly watching Jane on the closed circuit T.V., she hadn't moved her bowels in front of him. Then, when she finally did it, as reported by Brenda, she had waited until they were sleeping, the little sneak! Well, today that would change.
This particular afternoon Brenda was busy getting beautiful at the hair salon. To make sure he got what he was after, Robert decided to give the frog a special treat. A lovely bowl of chocolate ice cream. But the syrup he squirted over it was laced with Maltitol, a sweetener with a decided laxative effect. He watched her eat it, though he could see she would rather have been left alone. He would make sure she ate every bite.
Several hours later, he was pleased to observe through the camera that Jane was clasping her belly in seeming distress. Yes, she should be heading to the newspaper soon.
He wasn't disappointed. Slowly Jane rose from her blankets and moved to the paper, still clutching her belly. She squatted and Robert watched with eager anticipation, leaning forward toward the screen. He massaged his cock at the kitchen table, his hand flying over the rigid member as he watched the little slut relieve herself on the papers, just like a dog. Even though she was alone, he saw the dark blush of shame spread along her cheeks. The Maltitol had done its work, leaving her stool a runny gooey mess. She tried to clean herself at the spigot, an act strictly forbidden and which he duly noted. At last she carefully rolled the soiled newspaper and set it against the wall.
To his added delight, she squatted over the drain and peed. Robert spurted then and there on the table, jerking forward as he came hard. Just then he heard the sound of the electric garage door opening. Brenda was back. Quickly he tucked his spent cock back into his pants. Robert was sprawled on the living room couch, and appeared to be engrossed in a novel, sipping a soda, when Brenda entered, her auburn hair highlighted with blonde and her long red nails freshly lacquered.
Though Robert omitted telling Brenda of his use of Maltitol (Brenda found his obsession with feces peculiar), he didn't omit the fact that he had seen Jane taking a dump and then using the spigot without permission. Brenda was eager to make the little bitch pay for that one, as he had known she would be. She seemed to take special pleasure in humiliating the wretched girl.
Brenda changed into 'play clothes' and then they burst into her room, chiding Jane for the smell; shaming her for an act she couldn't control. When Brenda casually informed her that using the spigot without permission was forbidden and that she would be punished, Jane flushed a deep pink, feeling the heat of her
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