She began to stroke Anne's breasts and soon Anne would follow her new friend anywhere, her fears of the night abated. She looked down warily; no spiders. Could she have dreamed them? No, there were a few lying still on the floor; they existed, these creatures, but they only came out in the dark. Anne hoped she would not have to spend a second night here; Martinique said only "most of the next day", and she had to work on that Howard matter before Monday.
Cher entered the store. At a sign from Maude, she led Anne to a corner of the shop and gave her breakfast before taking her out behind the building to squat. It was cold outside and Anne was glad when the women put her back in the case. Maude set up a placard with her name and the words "In training".
Sunday was a busy day. The shop was filled with customers inspecting harnesses, crops, and other paraphernalia. And Anne; several of them paused to watch her.
Cher came by during quiet moments. Anne smiled at her and wondered if Cher would feed her again, but she did not.
A trio of girls wearing school uniforms studied her; they tapped on the glass and she wiggled a little to entertain them. Two of them kissed and the third put a hand under her skirt; no one saw it but Anne. It made her happy. Maybe in a few years one of them would be here in her place to entertain whoever came by. Maybe all of them; she smiled as they waved at her and walked away.
Anne remembered looking up to see Iris approach the case accompanied by a young blonde wearing a pinafore and a metal collar; a new protegee or possession most likely.
Or she thought she remembered it. Suspended for hours in there, her mind wandered crazily and spun fantasies; it was so hard to concentrate on anything or collect herself and she gave it up. She wondered if...if...what? She could not recall the question.
A little before closing time Martinique arrived to take Anne home. Cher joked that her night and day in the "bug jar" probably shaved twenty points off her IQ. Martinique laughed and said "If only" as Anne put her clothes back on.
Anne followed her three paces behind again. It was warmer this time; the sun was still out though low on the horizon and there was no wind. She was more contented than on the cold dark outbound journey. All thought had been driven from her head and she felt better for it.
After her feeding as she lay bound on the rug that night three men visited her. One of them lived in the building and was a regular, though she did not know his name. Two of them were new; Maude probably sent them. The first one was young and vigorous and left her exhausted. The second was an older man, not very energetic; but he left the biggest tip and Anne hoped he would return. Did Maude get any of it? Once Anne would have wanted to know, but she let it pass. What happened to her earnings was none of her business.
Alone when the gentlemen had done with her, Anne reviewed in her head the facts of the Howard case for tomorrow. It was difficult to recall them, harder than she expected. Memories of last night returned to her and would not be put aside: her shame at dropping the ball; dancing with Susan and especially with Ashley; being spanked by her secretary; and the spiders, again and again the spiders, she could not expel them from her mind. Eventually she managed to work out a strategy and memorize the outline since she was unable to write it down.
Monday morning she dressed carefully, wearing her leash beneath her suit. She opened the top of the blouse to make sure her secretary would notice the link hanging from her collar. Debbie had seen her naked and degraded at Maude's, had punished her and stood above her as she knelt; maybe she would like to feed her too. No, that was an impossible dream.
And yet when they sat across the desk from one another that day, Debbie looked at the leash and smiled wickedly. Anne became nervous and hot; she opened the top of her blouse further while Debbie watched.
There was hope. Anne wondered how to bring the subject up.
Martinique solved that problem a day later; she invited Debbie over for lunch.
She prepared a West Indian stew, fragrant with tropical spices. Anne got no breakfast that morning and as she set the table was driven nearly wild by the smell coming from the kitchen. She knew it was not for her, but just a few feed pellets would ease her hunger so much...
At the appointed time Martinique opened the door for Debbie and gave her a welcoming hug. Anne knelt with bowed head in the living room. She was freshly bathed with a pretty pink bow in her hair. Debbie greeted her with "Good morning, Anne."
Anne was pleased to be noticed. "Good morning, ma'am."
Martinique offered her guest coffee. She told Anne to stand up and serve them. Going into the kitchen, Anne put the cups on a tray and carried it out. She knelt again and set them on a low table, and waited in silence for instructions while they chatted in front of her.
Martinique asked Debbie what she thought of Anne. But perhaps Debbie would rather not speak in front of her; she could lock her away in the back closet.
No, said Debbie; she was welcome to listen.
Anne felt that was good, she would try to attend to her secretary's comments and learn from them.
Debbie told her to stand and inspected her. She was pleased to hear Debbie say she was attractive, and pulled her shoulders back to raise her breasts; Paul had taught her this.
Debbie thought she was losing weight; never fat, her waist and thighs were more narrow than say six months ago. Martinique laughed and said she was making a Watusi out of her. Her breasts were large and firm, though; Paul supplied a hormone to put in her feed for that. Debbie hefted one and agreed.
"Brush the nipple," said Martinique. Debbie did, and they watched it rise.
But she was too intellectual, it bordered on waywardness at times. When she was told to do something, she always had to consider it first.
Martinique agreed. "She thinks too much." It was a problem but a hard one to correct. Her mind was an obstacle to her new life that would have to be overcome.
Anne wondered what they meant.
Debbie asked if Anne needed to be punished often. No said Martinique, not by me anyway; Paul was her regular trainer, he withheld food from her when necessary. Anne had not been whipped yet, she knew that.
Or spanked until Maude's; but it did her a world of good. She would make too much noise to do it here though.
Take her to Maude's then, Debbie suggested. They welcomed volunteers. Anne would be popular there.
She told Anne to bend over the couch and inspected her; Anne shivered a little with pleasure as Debbie explored the surface of her rounded buttocks and spread them apart. Her bruises were healed and the redness faded; Anne was ready for another session. Martinique said she would think about it. Debbie slapped Anne's behind and she gave a little yip before standing up.
Anne served lunch and knelt at the table between the two women. Martinique passed a dish of pellets to her guest, who put some in her hand and held it out. Eating out of her secretary's hand, this was a dream come true. She would have to give Debbie a raise. And how clever of Martinique to make her hungry, the better to appreciate this moment and show her off to advantage.
Debbie put her hand between Anne's legs and probed her. She struggled to remain calm while her secretary entered and explored the soft cavity. She felt some pellet fragments rub off and lodge inside her. Beads of sweat appeared on her forehead and she stared rigidly at the floor until it was over.
The two women discussed Anne's training as they dined and she refilled their coffee cups and water glasses. Her breasts swayed as she leaned over the table, and Martinique stroked her behind now and then to keep her contented. Debbie remarked that Anne made a good servant and she blushed with pride.
After lunch Martinique invited Debbie to take Anne for some exercise around the building. Anne could scarcely believe her good fortune as the young woman attached her leash and fastened her bracelets behind her. They went down the hall to the far end of the building, up a flight of stairs, back on the hallway, and down again. Anne was happy to see several people she knew, and curtseyed to them on command. She decided to give Debbie a bigger raise.
Martinique had news for them on their return. The display case at Maude's, Debbie might have noticed it on the evening of the tourney. While they were out she called Maude and reserved the "bug jar" - the two women laughed - for Friday night. Debbie could escort her from work and she would meet them there. Anne grew agitated and Debbie flashed that smile again.
Back at work the next week, Anne passed the days in a state of anxiety she could not conceal. A senior partner asked Debbie about it; she told him it was a female condition and he asked no more.
Friday morning dawned bright and clear. Although no men visited her the previous night she got little sleep, tossing and turning on the living room carpet.
In the afternoon the weather turned foul; heavy rain began to come down around two and continued till it was time to leave work. Debbie wore a hooded raincoat but did not allow Anne to use one; by the time they reached Maude's she was soaked to the skin. She was also in a state by now, her self-control almost gone as she entered the store.
Maude handed her over to Cher, who led her into the back room where she hung her dripping garments on a hook. The two returned to the front of the shop.
Maude took a jar of yellow ointment and dabbed it on Anne's belly, her triangle, the tips of her breasts, and each buttock. It was a kind of bait she said, it increased the effectiveness of the treatment.
Debbie asked her to apply some to Anne's face. She looked up at her secretary, pleading with her eyes for lenience, but Debbie's expression was fixed.
Maude told her to enter the case. Anne was nearly frozen with horror but she obeyed. They pulled her wrists up and closed the door. She began to cry.
Debbie took a last look at the frightened creature inside, nodded and walked away. Maude turned out the lights and the women left the store together.
It was worse this time, magnified by a week of anticipation and dread that preyed on her mind. Attracted by the bait, they swarmed up her body seeking shelter and warmth in her most intimate places. Her emotional balance deserted her and she became unhinged almost at once.
She screamed without effect for she did not know how long until finally, worn out by the futile effort, she surrendered to them. She let them go where they will and accepted it. Within minutes she was asleep.
When she awoke to find the women staring at her the next morning it was broad daylight. She looked back at them like a saint in paradise, at peace with herself and the world. She wondered if she could get a promotion for Debbie.
Maude released her from the case; she put on her still-wet clothes and followed Debbie and Martinique home to undress. Paul was waiting for them in Martinique's apartment.
Anne served coffee and pastries to the three while they discussed her. No one had fed her for a day now but she knew someone would in time, it did not matter.
They debated putting her in the glass case again. Martinique had something to say about that.
She produced a lock of hair tied with ribbon; it was from Ashley. Ashley's owner had Maude put her there overnight and the experience left her deranged. Beryl had to ask Martinique to put her down.
"Did you?" Anne burst out, forgetting herself.
"Anne, you know you are not supposed to ask questions." She hung her head and was silent.
"But yes, I did. We took her out in a field and it was all over very quickly. I think she understood at the end. Beryl insisted on leaving her for the crows, but I took this for Anne."
Paul said "Marty, you are a woman of steel."
"Only when necessary, Paul. If you saw her you would say it was an act of kindness. And she was no use to her owner; we must not let that happen with Anne."
"Yes, such a loss. I could have sold her for" (he named a large figure).
Anne's surrender last night had preserved her sanity, her value to Paul and possibly her life. At least for the moment; she remembered Athene's prediction. It had come true for Ashley, and it would for her as well.
The group broke up shortly afterwards. Debbie reminded Anne they had to meet on Monday, and left along with Paul. Martinique walked Anne to her apartment and fed her. She set the lock of hair on a shelf in the bedroom.
Anne remained bound in her apartment the rest of the day and all Sunday. If any thoughts occupied her mind in that time, she could not remember them afterward.
On Monday Martinique released her and she went to work; she must not be late for her meeting with Debbie. The business about making her walk in the rain, so masterful, so good for her.
They met as planned in her office, but instead of sitting behind the big wooden desk she came forward and knelt at Debbie's feet while they discussed the week's schedule. This became a habit.
And sometimes Debbie fed her, holding out a handful of pellets if Anne behaved well.
She took them up eagerly. She was hungry; Martinique had reduced the size of her breakfasts.
Anne came to need these meetings and asked her secretary if they might become daily events. She found them comforting after a night of being used by strangers on the floor of her apartment. Debbie approved and they met nearly every morning.