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Bella goes for boiled sweets.

Even Agnes couldn't imagine the full extent of how things had changed, but she knew that things were never going to be like they were before. She kept a close watch on him, especially for anytime he might be alone. She made no secret of her watching him, feeling that would reinforce the idea that he couldn't get away with anything.

Following Mildred's advice after about a week of hard work, Agnes handed a large brown envelope to Jake and announced that he could have the use of his "dirty pictures" as she called them. Jake almost ran to the bathroom while saying thank you over his shoulder. "Leave that door open," Agnes shouted after him. She didn't know why that was important, but just felt that he shouldn't feel all that private with this at any time.

Things seemed to be improving around the farm. Jake was working well again, though his initial week's efforts were not duplicated, as she had suspected which only made it easier to let a few days more than a week pass before making his dirty pictures available to him again. She was gradually increasing the time span, as Mildred had suggested, while keeping an eye out for "cheating".

Agnes began to wonder about the power these pictures had over him. The women in the pictures didn't look like they had ever done a decent day's work in their lives. But that wasn't what he was thinking about when he looked at them, she thought to herself. She looked at them closely. Were these women really more attractive than her? Maybe, or was it just that they had those naughty expressions on their faces while showing their unmentionables? And this poem, what was that?

Ode to the Flower of Venus

There is a delicate flower,

Whose sight belies awesome power.

Pink petals in a bushy thatch

Flare enticingly for the catch.

Her musky scent drives good men wild.

Restraining them will make them mild.

To taste her nectar, feel her clutch,

No price would seem to be too much.

But if the flower satisfies

The bee will fly off to the skies.

If he's wanting a little more

No flower will attract him more.

Endless delights await tonight

All there in her secret garden.

Parting the brush in candle light

Her pink petals' stem will harden.

The flower gets fragrant and wet,

Her petals open inviting.

The bee wants to rush in, and yet

Now is when he should be trying

Gentle kisses, soft caresses

All to make the flower flutter.

Is it time for his excesses

Or must he wait for another?

Agnes wondered if Jake ever thought of her 'flower' that way. The idea both repulsed and excited her at the same time. And what was that part about him left wanting more and waiting for another time to finish? That sounded a little like some of the things Mildred had been saying about controlling men.

Roughly shoving the pictures and papers back into the envelope, she pursed her lips in a disdainful expression - enough of this disgusting trash. For a moment she wished she had destroyed it all as she first intended.

Jake's work had slacked off a little, but not enough that she would have postponed his self-abuse session more than her gradual lengthening of his time between. She had been trying not to think about the dirty pictures he was using to abuse himself and the time had gotten a little away from her. Still it had barely been two weeks since his last session when she caught him.

He had slipped back to the house in the middle of the day while she was at the barn. She had seen him head for the house, but thought little of it at first. Then something made her suspicious. She quietly entered the house and made her way to the bathroom hall. Peeking in she saw Jake sitting on the toilet, head back, eyes closed pulling on his member vigorously.

She put her hand on her hip and watched with a mixture of contempt and smug satisfaction that she had caught him out. She shifted a little, deliberately making a little noise. His eyes popped open.

"Oh my God!" He scrambled to cover himself but realized that it was both too late and too pointless.

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