Three Weeks a Slave

"What if I have to go to the bathroom?" She blurted. She knew from experience that it was not probable, but it was the first thing that came to mind. The chain was not nearly long enough to reach the bathroom, and the bed was too heavy to drag.

Alex gave her a tired look. "Do I have to solve everything for you?" When she didn't answer, he tossed her a cup. "Goodnight."

---

Although deeply tired, Jane slept fitfully that night. She was trapped as a slave to two misogynists, but there was nothing she could do except cry and bear it. 8am, she kept repeating to herself. That was when she was expected to have breakfast ready. There was a clock in the room, but no alarm; she was dreadfully afraid of oversleeping.

As it turns out, fear is an excellent alarm clock. She awoke at 7am and was about to get up when she realized she was still chained to the bed. There was nothing she could do except cradle the cup Alex had given her and watch the time pass. 7:15am, 7:30am. Soon there wouldn't be enough time to make breakfast, and still Alex did not come to release her. 7:45am. She watched the clock hit 8am with great trepidation, and still Alex did not show up. Perhaps they were asleep, she thought, but why ask for breakfast to be ready by 8am if asleep?

Finally, at 8:30am, she heard Alex cursing. "Jane! That damn bitch had better not have escaped!" The door to her room burst open, Alex only pausing for a moment when he saw she was still there. "Where's our breakfast?"

"I was chained to the bed," said Jane, pointing at the chain.

"Why didn't you tell me last night?" scowled Alex darkly as he unlocked the leg chain. "You could have asked me to ..." he paused to think, clearly having difficulty coming up with a solution that did not involve having to wake up earlier. "You could have asked me to leave the keys in a box with a time lock," he said at last, still scowling.

Alex was too angry for reason, Jane realized. She'd learned from her job that when customers get angry, they were often just venting, and the best reaction was to apologize and hope they calmed down. "I'm sorry, I won't do it again," she said, trying to sound apologetic. "I will remind you tonight."

It worked. Alex calmed down visibly, but Bob interjected, "Whip her tits. Women magically remember things better when their tits are covered with red stripes."

Alex seemed to consider the suggestion seriously as Jane cowered. "No," he said eventually, "we should never punish without warning."

"But we punched her twice yesterday," grumbled Bob.

"Yes, but she should already know she is expected not to lie." Alex waved his hands with finality. "Jane, you are to have breakfast ready at 8am and are to alert us about anything that might stop you from preparing it beforehand. This goes for all your other duties as well. Understand?" When Jane nodded, Alex added dismissively: "What are you waiting for? Go get breakfast ready."

Jane didn't need to be told twice. She ran for the kitchen, silently giving thanks for having dodged the bullet.

---

Jane was so busy with cleaning, cooking, and fulfilling Alex's and Bob's whims that she only remembered about her lack of clean clothes after bathing that night. Yuck, she thought as she pulled on her trousers again. They were beginning to irritate her skin. Her panties felt even worse to wear, and she would have seriously considered going commando if she weren't wearing trousers. Why did I not wear a skirt? Jane thought briefly, but she realized the answer almost as she thought of the question - it was winter.

She considered asking Alex for new clothes, but remembered what he had said the night prior. "Do I have to solve everything for you?" He had expected her to pee in a cup then, and she dreaded his response if she asked him for clothes. Bob on the other hand would just suggest she work naked ...

"Calm down Jane," she said aloud. "There was a woman in this house. Her clothes should still be around somewhere." Wearing a dead woman's clothes made her a little queasy, but it was better than the alternatives. She started searching, but soon discovered to her shock that she couldn't find the clothes. The cupboards in her room were bare, and they weren't in the storeroom either. She briefly thought they might be in Alex's or Bob's rooms, but knew that if so, it would be ill-advisable to take them.

She was dangerously close to panic when Alex chained her to a chair that night. "This is in case you can't figure out how to open the time lock," he said. A lame excuse to cover the fact that they didn't have a time lock, she realized fleetingly, but she was too distracted for the thought to linger. What am I going to wear tomorrow?

The next day, she wrapped herself in a towel and threw her clothes in the washer. They will understand, she tried to tell herself. They might not even comment.

But when Alex saw Jane, his look was poisonous. "What do you think you're doing?" he said darkly. "My clothes are in the wash -" she began. Then in a frantic instant, she realized she had tied the towel around her torso. It was something she had done on sheer reflex, but -

"I'm sorry!" she cried, hurriedly pushing the towel down and retying it around her waist. She was aware her breasts were visible, but had no time to worry.

Alex shook his head. "Hand that towel over."

"But I'm not wearing anything -"

Alex gave her a look of utter exasperation. "Punch her once," he said finally.

"Just once?" asked Bob, sounding incredulous. "After what she's done?"

"Okay, punch her twice."

"No, please -" she barely managed to cry out before Bob grabbed her. The first blow knocked her against the wall, and the second saw her crash face first to the ground. The towel came undone, and Bob scooped it up, leaving her naked.

"You are too good to her," she heard Bob saying through a haze of pain. "She disobeys two direct commands and you won't even whip her tits or fuck her ..."

Jane tried to listen as Alex and Bob argued over her fate, but a dagger of pain reminded her that she had more pressing problems. Kyle, I must live for Kyle and the kids. She tried moving, and was relieved to find that her appendages obeyed her. Still, they rebelled when she attempted to push herself up. Which two commands did I disobey? she thought slowly as her body quarreled with itself. Ugh, thinking hurts.

"Jane." Alex's voice cut through her consciousness. "Why do you think we punished you?"

"It's ..." she said slowly, trying to think over the pain. "It's because I covered my ... my breasts ... and because I didn't give you the towel."

"Right, so she's too stupid to understand the order," Bob said darkly. "We should still whip her tits for the second transgression alone."

"We've already punched her twice for that. No. Jane, listen up, for I will only explain it once. I ordered you to get your tits or your cunt out. Which you chose did not matter, because as long as one is uncovered, you cannot escape. That towel covers both. Even if you had not covered your tits, you could've adjusted the towel once you're outside. Understand?"

That's not something I could've deduced, thought Jane miserably. Maybe I'm just too stu- NO! I refuse to be influenced by these misogynists. She nodded.

"I hope you do, for your sake." Then Alex said to Bob, "Tear that towel in half. No, lengthwise." When it was done, he tossed the two torn halves of the towel to Jane. "You can wear one half, and the other when you are washing the first. Or go naked, I don't care. Give me your trousers when they're done. We'll put them with the rest of your clothes."

She obediently wrapped the torn towel around her waist, sobbing.

---

It was only when she was hanging that day's laundry that Jane realized that she had one more article of clothing: her panties.

She spent a long minute looking at them. They were just a thoroughly ordinary pair of blue, polyester panties. They weren't her sexiest pair, or her favorite. Yet they were hers, and as she looked at them, she realized with a start that Alex had not asked for them. He had only asked for her trousers.

That means I can keep them, Jane thought, suddenly hopeful. Alex might be harsh, but he was also reasonable in his own way. Even if I'm not supposed to keep them, he'd first need to find out, and even then he would rage and yell and call me an idiot, but he would not - she winced at the thought - whip my tits. The panties were the only thing she had that connected her to her previous life, she realized. Everything else was either in or soon-to-be-in the drawer in Alex's room.

I will keep them, Jane thought with a rush. They were too wet to wear, but she hurried to her room to hang them in a cupboard. I won't hang you with the others. She checked on the panties several times over the next few hours, to see if they were dry and, she knew deep down, to see if they were still there. When she finally slid them on, she felt more covered than she had been since she was abducted. She was becoming more comfortable with being topless too, she realized. Three days of forced nudity had led to that.

What if I stopped covering my breasts? There were a lot of things in the house that were much more easily done with two hands. She remembered the steak she had tried to eat on the first day. Right then, she was mopping the floor, and doing that one-handed was surprisingly difficult as well. What about body positivity? My breasts aren't the biggest, the most pert, or the most rousing, but they are my breasts. I should be proud of them. She gingerly grasped the mop with both hands. Her breasts, no longer restrained, tumbled free; she could feel her nipples brush against her forearms as she moved the mop.

Her newfound resolve lasted only until she saw Bob. Fuck, I flashed him like an idiot. Bob grinned lecherously as she hurried to cover herself. He moved closer, to within an arm's length, and reached for the arm covering her breasts. "Can I touch?"

What?! she wanted to yell, No! Get your filthy hands away from me! She wondered if she should call for Alex, but all she did was cringe and back away, knocking over the mop bucket in her haste.

Bob looked disgusted as the soapy water washed over their feet. "You could just have said no. Now you have more of a mess to clean up." He shrugged and left.

Jane looked at his receding form, crying.

---

A week after her abduction, things had mostly settled into a routine. She would cook, clean, wash, and attend to Alex's and Bob's every demand. She had gained a newfound appreciation of her maid's work. "Sweep the floor twice a day," she had instructed her maid, "or it will get dusty." That was so very easy to say as long as it was someone else doing the work. Her cooking had noticeably improved as well - her fear-motivated extra time spent cooking had had an impact. Her meals still didn't taste great, but at least Alex had stopped complaining despite Bob's exaggerated faces every dinner. She had even managed to get out of the house, she reflected ruefully. Neither Alex nor Bob were willing to take out the trash, and Bob had cheerfully suggested they watch her do it to make sure the winter-prison was working. She had been forced to leave the house wearing only the half-towel, and the temperatures were low enough that she was shivering badly by the time she made it back inside. The daily trash excursions quickly became one of her least favorite moments of the day.

A week after her abduction was also when the cramps first came.

My period. The realization hit her like a thunderbolt. She'd been so engrossed in survival that she'd completely forgotten about the time of the month. Almost immediately came the next thunderbolt: where am I going to find a pad or tampon? Like most women, she always carried some in her handbag, but her handbag was out of reach in Alex's drawer. Neither could she rely on "girl code" - there was no other woman in the house.

This time her panic set on quicker than when she didn't have clean clothes to wear. Without pads or tampons, she would quickly soil her panties when she was wearing them, or - she gulped - she would have blood dripping down her legs when they were being washed. And panties needed to be washed every day. And they needed time to dry. And she would bleed for several days at least.

She briefly considered asking Alex for her handbag, but dismissed the idea almost immediately - not only did Alex expect her to solve her own problems, menstruation was just not something women asked men for help with. She remembered an episode during high school where a classmate had had to ask a male teacher for permission to use the bathroom. "But recess just ended," the teacher had said. Her classmate mentioned that there will be blood, but the teacher misinterpreted the remark as a threat. It had taken another student to explain the meaning before, red-faced, the teacher had let the student leave. Fortunately Jane's mother had thoroughly prepared her, and she had never been caught out thus.

Her mother hadn't prepared her for this situation, though. For the first time since her captivity began, she was seriously tempted to open Alex's drawer. She could enter the room when Alex wasn't there under the pretense of cleaning it ...

Tut tut, whispered Jane Two. What if the drawer is locked or alarmed? Alex didn't warn of consequences if you opened the drawer, he warned of consequences if you tried.

"Look," she whispered back, annoyed. "I'm desperate, OK? If you have any smart ideas, how about you point them out. It's easy to criticize, but I don't see you helping."

What is worse, bleeding into your panties, or getting your tits whipped? Jane Two whispered back with aggravating calm. Don't tell me you'd rather the latter.

"Fuck my life." It was a real possibility, Jane knew. The last time she had disobeyed Alex's orders, she had been punched twice, and then she could plead ignorance. There was no chance of that if Alex caught her opening the drawer. Then she realized with a start that her phone was also in the drawer. If Alex interpreted her actions as an attempt to call the police, she'd be lucky if all they did was whip her tits. No, she could not risk the drawer.

You could make a pad, Jane Two whispered.

Oh right. Jane dashed to the bathroom and grabbed several paper towels. Then she slid off her panties - no bloodstains, thank God - and wrapped the paper towels around the base of the panties. The makeshift pad looked cringe-worthy, but as she put it on, she told herself it's still better than the alternatives. She was acutely aware that she needed something else when her panties were being washed. "I'll have to make a diaper," she said aloud. Then she heard Alex call for her. "Later," she added whimsically. "How nice of him not to summon me while I was making the pad." She hurried to obey, flinching at the uncomfortable feeling around her crotch.

---

Two weeks after Jane's abduction, Jane One whispered her.

It's been two weeks, it said. The police can't be looking for them much longer.

"That's a good thing, isn't it?"

Only if you're naïve. You know what they look like, where they live, what they've been doing. They won't just release you.

"Are you suggesting they'll kill me?" It was a possibility she hadn't considered seriously since the first day. "Alex said they'll let me go."

A lie to get you to cooperate, Jane One retorted. You are going to tell the police all you know once they release you, aren't you? Why would they take the risk?

Alex did refuse to let her contact Kyle, she realized, or to grab another woman when she said she couldn't cook. He clearly cares about risk. On the other hand, what could she do about it?

"Are you suggesting I attack them or try to escape?" She shook her head. "It's not going to work. There's no way I'm overpowering them, I'm chained to a chair at night, opening the door triggers a doorbell and even if I could get out of the house without them watching me, all I've got is half a towel and a diaper in the midst of winter. I could bring the blanket with me ..."

No, it's too late. Jane One had an annoying, I-told-you-so tone to it. It's been too late ever since Bob returned on the first day. Now you'll just have to think of a clever argument to convince them not to kill you.

Jane gulped. She had tried and failed to come up with a convincing story to persuade Kyle not to look for her, and this did not seem easier. She could not offer anything except promises to Alex, she realized, unless she offered to join them on the run - the very thought made her shudder. Was everything she'd done for the past two weeks a waste?

"They won't kill me," she said, trying to convince herself. "They promised."

There is a way, Jane Two whispered, so quietly she almost failed to notice. But you're not going to like it.

"Go on," she tried to think encouragingly. "Your ideas have worked so far."

Jane Two took a long minute to respond. You could seduce Bob, it whispered finally. Then if Alex tries to kill you, Bob will defend you.

Jane's eyes went wide. The very thought of Bob's hands on her body was repulsive. You could try to seduce Alex instead, Jane Two continued timidly, but Alex has shown no interest in you, and even if you succeed Alex is too careful to let you leave. On the other hand, we have already seen that Bob can change Alex's mind.

"He can?"

There was a pregnant pause. He convinced Alex you should be punched twice when you wore that towel, Jane Two replied at last.

Jane winced. It was not a pleasant memory. "He also wanted to whip my tits several times," she retorted. "Alex never acquiesced."

True, responded Jane Two. That's where seduction comes in. We are hoping to get Bob emotionally invested such that he won't accept not getting his way. It's not a perfect plan, but unless you have a better idea ...

A better idea. Why does it always have to be better ideas? She spent the rest of the day agonizing over how probable it was that Alex would kill her, and what she could do about it. Kyle, I must live for Kyle and the kids. But if she seduced Bob, she would be cheating on Kyle, something she would never have thought possible a few short weeks ago. Or would it be cheating? Surely being raped is not cheating.

She remembered a book she once read. Titled A Woman in Berlin, it was written by an anonymous German woman in the aftermath of World War 2. That woman had been raped several times by Soviet soldiers, and eventually seduced a Soviet officer for protection. Her boyfriend had been livid when he returned from the war, and many contemporary readers had accused her of dishonoring German women. I would be like her, thought Jane sullenly, but that woman had done it after being raped several times, knowing that more rapes would come if she did not act. I do not even know for certain if my life is in danger.

And then a practical issue struck her: what if she got pregnant? With no access to contraceptives, the best time to seduce Bob would be when she was least fertile, or the days immediately following menstruation. She realized with a start that she was quickly running out of time, in more ways than one.

By dinnertime, she had decided to do it. Kyle, I must live for Kyle and the kids. It was a grim thought, but the possible death consequence was too severe. As the anonymous German woman had written, "After all, I am alive, everything will pass." It was a hope she clung to desperately as she slipped off her panties that night. I won't need them, she reasoned, and Bob does not need know I still have them.