Jane is Trained to Submit Ch. 02

How stupid was she to expect anything from a stranger. To him she was just a one-night stand, or maybe something worse. Margaret had used her to entertain him, like a hired escort. A nice way of calling her a whore.

Staring at her bare feet, with shoulders slumped, she reflected on all the appalling acts committed in this house. The list of sins Margaret held over her was disgraceful, and growing each day. She needed to escape the tormentor, and get away from this house.

'I need to go home,' Jane pleaded, in a whispery voice. She needed her clothes, as this thing was too objectionable to be seen in. It would be dreadful to meet neighbours on the way home. The tight nylon outfit would be see-through in the bright sunlight, and it was too short not to be wearing underwear. Even if no-one saw her in the street, she would have to sneak in without her daughter witnessing to her shame.

'You are my maid, remember? Make me breakfast, then, I'll consider giving you some time off,' Margaret sharply stated, with a hard edge to her voice. 'Don't just stand there like a dummy, fix your mistress some breakfast, maid!'

Jane jumped at the sudden, shouted commands.

'Yes, mistress. Sorry, mistress,' Jane snivelled.

Jane rattled the frying pan of eggs, and kept a wary eye on the toast. It was important to concentrate on cooking, as she couldn't bear another dressing-down from the ogre, while feeling so retched. She was trapped, and Margaret knew too well how to keep her in place. Serving breakfast wasn't going to be the end of it, but the distraction from dwelling on what was to come next, was nearly working.

Jane felt she deserved to be treated like a humble servant, as a perverse punishment. It was hard to fight off feeling guilty, and so she buckled down to being Margaret's maid. Besides, what could she do to escape the ruthless woman.

***

Jane arrived home, thankful to be wearing the business suit. As usual the streets were empty on a Monday morning, yet she felt so much better walking the few blocks home decently dressed. An added bonus was that her daughter was still in bed. She changed into casual attire and flicked around the house with a duster. There wasn't much to do, but she needed to keep busy, to keep her mind off the last couple of days.

Eventually Louise dragged herself into the kitchen, to demand food and drink.

'I'm making a sandwich for lunch, what do you want?' Jane asked.

Louise settled down at the kitchen table to eat. She looked up at her mother with a deep frown.

'I know what you've been up to,' she declared.

Jane looked away, with a face shading crimson with guilt.

'Don't bother denying it. You've been at it with someone,' Louise accused.

Jane wondered if she could really tell, or was it just a guess. Hopefully, Louise was merely jumping to conclusions because she had been out all night.

'I stayed with a friend. She's having a problem with her husband,' Jane half heartedly explained.

Relieved over her daughter's neutral grunt, she got up to fetch more coffee for them both. Jane gasped inwardly. She only just refraining from calling her daughter, mistress, when offering a refill.

Damn! The role had bitten deeper than she thought. It had only been a couple of days, yet she had already been beaten into submission by a continuous round of humiliations. One after another the indignities had struck home like physical blows, until she was fragile and susceptible to Margaret's demands.

'I'll leave something for you. I'm going to keep her company this evening,' Jane quietly spoke, hoping not to be questioned.

'Whatever,' Louise managed to mumble.

Louis threw an accusing look over her shoulder, as her mother left the kitchen. Something was up with her.

Not sure if the look was from suspicion that she was meeting a man, or for abandoning her, Jane sighed. Not biting at the previous accusation, or trying too hard to deny it, had at least avoided a confrontation. She just didn't have the energy for an argument.

Adjusting her hair before leaving, she saw her daughter approach. 'What now?' she thought.

'Where you going then?' Louise asked, with a voice laden with self-pity.

'I told you earlier. There's lasagne in the microwave, you just need to heat it up,' Jane pointed out. 'You're too used to me being here to wait upon you. You need to learn to look after yourself, before going to college,' Jane crossly spoke.

Louise wasn't used to such a biting remark from her mother, and let her go without a word spoken. 'It must be a man,' she murmured. Louise tried to be happy for her, though a tinge of jealousy was felt.

***

Monday evening progressed more smoothly, for Jane had settled into accepting the role of maid. Retreating into the role was her only way of escaping the demeaning position. Her mind was in such turmoil it was difficult to think of a way out of the trap. The chores had been completed, so she stood fidgeting before her tormentor.

Margaret had been both amused and angry when catching the neighbour with her son. She realised it was an opportunity to wreak a small revenge upon Jane, for interfering and scuppering plans for a new building project.

The prissy woman had been so openly vulnerable, that taking advantage of her was irresistible. First thoughts were along the lines of just blackmailing her, to influence the city planning committee. The humiliation of that night, together with the threat of telling neighbours about her misdeeds, had the stupid woman crawling for forgiveness. Margaret hadn't guessed the woman would capitulate so easily, and so completely.

It was a surprise to find how easily she was manipulated and controlled. Jane was obviously far more concerned with her reputation than Margaret would ever be. What had been amusing at first, was becoming a business opportunity. Using her new maid to entertain a potential client last night, had been outrageous, yet successful.

'Stop fidgeting and stand still,' Margaret warned.

'I need to visit the bathroom, ma'am,' Jane said.

'Well go then, and come straight back,' Margaret commanded.

Jane hesitantly went back to Margaret, with some idea of convincing her she needed to go home.

'You're a dirty slut. What are you?' Margaret asked, at last breaking the deadly silence.

'I'm your maid, ma'am,' Jane defiantly answered. The fierce look she received was enough to curtail the momentary lapse.

'Know your place, maid!' Margaret growled at her. 'I caught you with my son. It may not be illegal, but it's certainly immoral. Then you hoped into bed with one of my clients. Either you don't care, or you know what such behaviour means, well?' Margaret heavily demanded.

Not wanting to play Margaret's game, she nevertheless had to admit to something, from feeling so guilty.

'Sorry ma'am. I'm a dirty slut, ma'am,' she quietly spoke. As though to shock the woman, she continued, 'I'm you're whore ma'am,' she said, using an accusing tone of voice. It was meant to remind the woman she had been tricked into bedding a stranger. Sleeping with him for Margaret, to gain business, made her a whore. That was the nastiest episode in this house, and nothing could be as bad as that.

'What did you say? Speak up slut,' Margaret demanded.

'I'm, I'm a, a whore, you're whore, ma'am,' she stated. This time it was with a voice laden with self-pity.

Margaret wondered what the stupid bitch was on about. Of course! She had manoeuvred Jane into having sex with Mathew.

The fool served them dinner, dressed as a sexy maid, while she helped herself to wine. On finishing the bottle, Jane flirted with Mathew, and ran around after him like a besotted schoolgirl. All Margaret needed to do was push them together, and they both took advantage of the opportunity. The foolish woman felt guilty enough to call herself a whore, well, so be it!

'Yes! You are a whore. You're a dirty old whore. Certainly not good enough for my son. You are my whore, at my disposal,' Margaret ground in to her victim.

She noticed Jane struggling for words, probably a protest, and a defence of some sort, maybe even a rebellion at last.

Margaret jumped in, 'I'll have to work hard on my son to prevent him revealing that sordid episode in my bedroom. I don't want to imagine how badly you behaved with him. Not only that, there's your whoring, thieving, and lewdness at the party to keep quiet. You're a disgusting slut, like a bitch on heat.'

Jane cringed from how true those accusations were. It was vital everything she did here was kept secret, not for her sake, but for her daughters reputation. Of course she too wanted to keep her good standing in the community. Her life was in a state of flux. What evil act would she be forced to commit next? A tear dropped to the carpet. Not shed for the future, but from the knowledge that she had perversely enjoyed being bad.

Margaret had to keep the stupid woman under her thumb for a little longer. Part of the deal struck with Mathew, was another session with Jane. He was alluding to them both joining him for a dirty weekend. The contract would fire her business up to the next level, so it might be worth it.

She looked at Jane, wondering what was going through the woman's head. She had come across at committee meetings as small minded and puritanical. "You can't build that here", the stupid woman had firmly stated. She had bullied the other committee members into supporting her. The plans had fallen through and she lost a healthy commission. Using the stupid woman as a whore to gain Mathews approval, would certainly count as retribution, but not make up for the loss of business. Such revenge couldn't have been imagined a few days ago!

'Well! Maid! Don't just stand there daydreaming, my glass is empty!' Margaret shouted.

Watching her maid scurry around for gin and tonic, then finding the ice bucket empty, was amusing. The expression of agony just because she had done something wrong, and was keeping her mistress waiting, was pitiful. Margaret kept a straight face until the maid left for the kitchen. She jammed a fist into her mouth to stifle a loud guffaw. It would be best to keep the maid thinking she was angry, rather than amused.

'Where did you get that dress?' Margaret demanded to know.

'Sir, gave it to me, ma'am,' Jane apologetically answered.

'I don't mind you playing dress up in my old clothes, but you should be wearing your uniform while serving me,' Margaret arrogantly informed her maid.

She wondered what her son had been up to with her maid. She filed the question away for later.

'Yes, ma'am, sorry, ma'am,' Jane demurely replied.

She hesitated running off to change, in case that too was the wrong thing to do. Margaret saw the woman's indecision and was again amused. She was a good judge of character, especially at finding a person's weaknesses, which was useful in business. This woman had presented a firm and stolid outward appearance, successfully hiding a broad streak of submissiveness in her character. It had certainly been revealed, with the right motivation.

'Are you going to stand there, or serve me dinner. Quickly before it gets cold,' Margaret complained.

Jane seemed to remember the bowl of soup in her hands and moved too quickly to place it on the table before her mistress. The tomato soup slopped over the table cloth, and dripped into Margaret's lap.

'You stupid, bitch!' Margaret yelped. It wasn't hot, but it suited her to make a fuss.

'Sorry, ma'am, I'll get a cloth,' Jane said, turning to run to the kitchen.

'Don't bother, stay right there,' Margaret scolded. 'You can pay for a new suit, you stupid bitch,' she grumbled, while wiping the dress with a serviette.

'Sorry, ma'am. Can I pay for the cleaning, I'm really short of money, now Louise is going to college,' Jane plaintively asked. 'I'm sure it's not permanently stained,' she added, when Margaret didn't say anything.

Margaret wondered if that were true. Could the stupid woman be that broke. Her husband had died in a plane crash. Whatever compensation she received wouldn't stretch far after paying off the mortgage, and sending her daughter to college.

'I'll help out,' Margaret suggested.

She looked at the maid, almost cowering before her. It was almost as if she wanted to be in this subservient role. She needed someone to tell her what to do, and there hadn't been anyone since her husband died. Margaret had to restrain herself from offering the stupid bitch money to sleep with a client. Making it obvious she was to be her whore was pressing things too far.

'You can work as my assistant. The job is yours, maid. What do you say?' Margaret asked.

'Thank you ma'am. I'm not sure what I could do to help. I haven't experience working. I was married straight from college. I guess, I'm just a housewife,' Jane humbly answered.

'Don't worry, maid, I'll teach you. You start by carrying my brief case, and pretending to take notes,' she laughed.

'Yes, ma'am, if you say so,' Jane grudgingly acknowledged. Being at the she-devil's mercy in this house was one thing, but in public? How could she tolerate the humiliation?

'I need to go home to see to Louise, ma'am,' Jane quietly spoke. There was more hope than expectation in her voice.

After the last few days under threat of exposure and constant control, she no longer attempted to wriggle free. There seemed no way of escape, so whatever she was told to do, she would do. For some reason it was a relief to give in and not have to struggle to find the right thing to do. It seemed even her financial problems would be taken care of by Margaret.

'You haven't been home, so what excuse did you use?' Margaret asked.

'Visiting a friend with marital problems, ma'am,' Jane explained. She had learnt to keep her answers short. It minimised mistakes, and kept her from rambling on like an idiot.

'Phone her again, and say you won't be home till late,' Margaret ordered.

It wasn't right being told what to do by a neighbour. It was daunting how much more under her control she would become when working for the woman.

'All arranged then? Good! We shall go shopping for your clothes. I do like shopping!' Margaret happily smiled.

Jane was dreading the expedition. What would she say to friends they met while out with Margaret. She would feel such a fool, calling a neighbour ma'am, and cow-towing to her. Fortunately they drove to an out of town mall. It looked run down, but that suited Jane, as well-to-do friends wouldn't visit such a place.

'Please, ma'am!' Jane complained.

Her plea was ignored. Jane was pulled from the dingy changing room to find another outfit. This time she was wearing a micro-mini skirt over a thong. She could feel the hem brushing her bare bottom, and was highly embarrassed. She kept her hands at her sides, holding the skirt down, afraid of revealing her bare bum. The threat of exposure left her feeling weak.

The security guard was watching her, with a mixture of suspicion and lust. She looked away feeling small and vulnerable. Thankfully there weren't many people in the store, yet she felt every eye was upon her. Judging her, and thinking she was a mindless slut. Dressed like that at her age, showing herself off, must mean she was available.

'Stop complaining, then I'll let you run and hide in the dressing room,' Margaret scolded her.

Having become subordinate to the woman left her feeling small an ineffectual. The only defence left was to behave herself, hoping not to be punished.

'Yes, ma'am, thank you, ma'am,' Jane gushed.

It was sickening to sound so grateful to her tormentor for small mercies, yet the emotion was genuine. She had become thankful for every small comfort. Knowing they were incentives to submit, and obey the woman, didn't mean she could resist them. Yielding to her in that house was bad enough, now she was being tested in public. Working for her would mean spending even more time under her control. There would be no escape from this abject state of submission, until she had been completely broken.

Tears formed in her eyes as she scurried back to the changing room. It was nothing more than a ragged curtain pulled across a cubicle, the size of a restroom stall. Nevertheless it felt safer than being out there.

Margaret watched her trotting away with long blond hair swaying down her back. She looked like sex on heels. The prissy tight assed woman had always kept it pinned up as though she were a school teacher or librarian. It was painful for her to be dressed so cheaply, yet there were small signs of excitement. The decision hadn't been hers to show off her body, so the responsibility for what happened could be negated.

She glanced around the store and noticed a young guy intently staring at Jane. He craned his neck to watch every wiggle of her ass. Margaret smirked on seeing his girlfriend nudge him for attention. He would have to be careful over his comment on her new dress. The old security guard was interested too. There was a wistful look in his eyes.

Of course she couldn't dress her maid up so overtly for business meetings. The message would be too obvious. This exhibition was designed to keep her at heel. It didn't take much, for she was a natural submissive.

'Who would have guessed it?' she murmured to herself.

A couple more outfits were selected before returning to her maid. They were cheap and nasty, yet the voluptuous woman could get away with them in the bedroom. Men were easily pleased. Having a sexy assistant to distract customers would be useful, and it would enable her to keep a tighter control over the stupid woman. She hadn't thought to keep her as a submissive maid, but it had become such fun, and useful too.

They moved on to a more up market store. It didn't mean much in that shabby mall. The business skirt was short enough for Margaret's intentions. It was high enough quality to give the impression her assistant was trying to make the most of a small budget. The stupid woman was even pleased to wear it, even though it was a fraction of the cost of her usual business attire.

Her new assistant had been well off while her husband had been alive. She wore an expensive business suit, even though merely attending committee meetings. Margaret thought the woman had once held a position in some corporation, the way she behaved in those ruinous planning meetings.

Jane was smoothing down the skirt, looking pleased with it, never minding it was cheap. She gave Margaret a look of gratitude, content to be free of the awful skimpy clothes.

***

Although the high stiletto heels looked incongruous in a cheap maids coverall, it gave Jane time to learn how to walk in them. She hadn't gone home that night, having to explain to Louise she was preparing for a meeting with the boss. A new job meant she could afford to pay for her daughters tuition fees. Louise was surprised, yet could hardly complain, though she tried.

In her room at Margaret's house she looked in the dressing table mirror, with Margaret looking her over.

'It's no good. Less make up, and a different shade of red lipstick,' Margaret pointed out. The look, she decided, had to be subtle.

'Put on the clothes,' she ordered, once satisfied with the look.

Pulling up the stockings she attached them to the suspender belts. The bra pushed her breasts up into a deep cleavage. Jane wished the bra and panties covered more, but at least they wouldn't be noticeable, like the swell of her breasts.

Margaret noted how slim her assistants waist was, which emphasised the breasts. The image was certainly going to be an advantage when males were signing contracts.

'Let me zip you up,' Margaret said.

The skirt was tight, showing off her curves. She had a cute bottom, with a sensuous wiggle in high heels. How had all this been so effectively covered up before? The woman was sexy, even in a business suit. The skirt was slightly shorter than her own, but not outrageously so.