The next morning at the office Barbara in her new scarf was coolly impassive, even when Anne curtseyed to her. Later as Anne knelt beside her owner's desk, Francesca spoke to someone on the telephone. "All right little one, I found out a solution to make everyone happy." She smiled a sly grin and fed Anne some pellets from her hand.
She took an early lunch at her desk and led Anne home. Around noon, Georges and the plant facilities director arrived. She had Anne assume various postures in the enclosure while Georges held a tape and called out lengths. When they settled on a satisfactory set of measurements, Francesca led Anne into the house and draped her over the kitchen table. She held Anne's leash while each of the two men took their turn in her.
After they left, Francesca observed "With all this commotion, I haven't exercised you in the longest time. We're going to play hooky for a while. Come with me." Anne followed her unsteadily out to the back yard, where she suspended Anne on the frame and went inside for her crops.
"No audience this time, just us two," she said as she began with a series of gentle strokes, building gradually in force. She brought Anne to the edge and held her there for an unimaginably long time before taking her over it. When she was done, Anne hung limp in her bonds. Francesca hosed her off and left her to dry while she went inside and showered, returning afterwards.
"Ready to go back to the office, little one?"
"Yes ma'am. Do you think we could go slowly? I'm a little tired."
"I don't wonder. But you know you're not allowed to ask that, Anne. Have you forgotten your training?"
"Yes, ma'am, I did. I'm sorry. I was wrong to say that." She knelt at her owner's feet and touched her head to the ground.
They returned to work at a leisurely pace with Anne taking very small steps. As Barbara filled the water bowl Francesca exchanged a conspiratorial wink with her secretary.
When they returned home at the end of the day, Francesca led Anne straight to the enclosure. The chains were the right length and they were lighter and easier to bear. Anne marveled that her owner had managed to get the work accomplished so quickly.
Francesca just looked at her. She said "Oh," and turned a deep red.
A pleasant surprise awaited them when they entered the living room; Anne's portraits had been delivered. The two drawings sat on the table and the full-size oil leaned against a wall nearby.
A note from the director thanked Francesca for allowing him to be of service that afternoon. Anne resolved to repay his generosity the next time she had the chance.
Georges had given Francesca the life-size oil painting of Anne suspended by her wrists from the ceiling. Also two smaller drawings in colored charcoal of her back as she faced away: bent forward (a study for the painting he chose for himself) and spread on the frame.
The oil painting was so large that only one location in the house was suitable: in the living room next to the hearth, facing the sofa and chairs.
The two smaller drawings offered more possibilities. Francesca decided the picture of Anne on the frame should be hung in the back hall, next to the closet where she kept the whips. The drawing of Anne bent over would go in the reception area of her office at work, on the wall opposite Barbara's desk and the visitor chairs.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Anne remained anxious and frightened from the kidnap attempt. Francesca spoke with Thomas and he invited them out to dinner at a local restaurant; Anne would take them there in the chaise.
In the afternoon Francesca hung Anne up and washed her for show. She applied rubbing alcohol to bring out the fading marks of the scourge and steel comb; soon they stood out nicely against her pale skin.
She took Anne inside to the kitchen while she changed, and emerged from her bedroom attired for a night out. She even wore lipstick; this was going to be a special occasion.
Thomas arrived and the three of them went in back to the carriage shed. Francesca harnessed her to the chaise. At a sign from her owner, Thomas took the driver's seat and Francesca sat next to him.
Soon the three were heading downtown. Anne enjoyed being out in public and looked around her. A whip sat in a holder next to Thomas but he left it unused, directing Anne with verbal commands.
He held the reins in a light easy grip with plenty of slack, unlike Francesca who kept her under a tight control. She needed that, they both knew it, but this slight relaxation was pleasant.
Still she missed the occasional snap of correction on her thighs. It defined her status and it was, well, stimulating.
Especially if placed just right; the boy Morgan knew how to do that when she pulled his carriage, he could make her jump.
The owner greeted Thomas as they arrived; he and Rosa were old friends. She helped Francesca unhitch Anne and remove her bridle. Inside, she led them to a table by a small stage where a band played on dance nights.
Anne prepared to take her place between them, but Thomas led her up to the stage. She stood to be viewed for a moment before he told her to kneel. Paul once took her to a place like this on a date last year. That was different though, he didn't own her then and she was allowed to wear clothes.
She remembered how happy she was to be with him at their table, eating out of his hand. And afterwards when the recruiter for a "gentlemen's club" wanted to inspect her, Paul made her stand and open her blouse for him in front of everyone.
She continued to muse; what would her life be like if she had met Thomas before Francesca. Of course that was impossible, he never came to Mr. Schuyler's estate and he surely did not buy girls like her. But suppose she met him before she gave herself away to Paul? Would she have entered this life then?
It was too much for her, she shook her head to clear it. This was the result of allowing her a touch of freedom.
Thomas stood her in the center of the stage and released her hands. At a gesture from him she placed them on her head and turned slowly around to display her marks. She smiled at being the center of attention.
Next Thomas had her do some tricks. She fetched the ball in her mouth and brought it back for him to throw again, just like in his yard. At his command she even rolled around on the floor of the stage as if it were grass.
The best part came next. He told her to go down on her hands and knees. Instinctively she turned to present her rear to the audience.
Surely no one would take her here, on the stage, in front of a roomful of diners. But it would be exciting if they did. She was musing on this when she heard steps behind her.
She braced herself for the first man and tried to open for him; but he was large, and instead of spreading her apart (which would have made it easier) just forced himself in, almost knocking her flat.
He worked her for a minute or two before finishing her off, and she was more ready for the next man. He pulled her open and slid in before getting down to work, which lasted she did not know how long.
After that was another, and another, she lost track. At the end she lay exhausted on the stage, flopping weakly like a fish, her face pressed against the wooden floor.
