Town and Country

The next morning, Anne woke to the sound of rain on the pavement as Francesca entered her cell. She removed Anne's chain and led her up the service stairs on her leash. Anne prepared Francesca's breakfast of eggs, toast, and coffee and her own pellets and water, and the two ate side by side as before.

Francesca had news; Mr. Schuyler very kindly offered to let them use the gymnasium in his townhouse from time to time. This relieved her worries that Anne's confinement wouldn't let her exercise, or allow Francesca to keep up her skills with the whip. Francesca hoped to use it several times a week for calisthenics and to work Anne over on a frame like the ones she had been tied to elsewhere.

Anne was overjoyed. Her few - perhaps her only - moments of intimacy with Francesca came at these times. Anne did not know how much they meant to her owner, but they were the most precious minutes of her existence. She grew a little wet just thinking about it.

After clearing away the dishes Anne presented herself to Francesca to have her hands bound, then sat at her feet while Francesca reviewed the material she would need for her classes. After about an hour, Mr. Schuyler's driver knocked on their door; Francesca led Anne downstairs to the car.

The trip was a short one, but the car proceeded slowly in heavy traffic. Anne looked from side to side, eagerly drinking in the scenes of the city. She loved the old buildings that lined the street and the busy sidewalks filled with people going about their business. Out of a corner of her eye she saw a girl walking naked on a leash held by an older woman. Or thought she did; when she turned her head to look, a truck blocked her view. Once again she hoped Francesca would take her out like that some day.

And she wondered how to behave if she met another girl like her on the street. The two owners might stop to chat; what should she do? Greet the other girl? Smell her like a dog? No, of course not; she would stand or kneel at Francesca's instruction and do whatever she was told.

The gymnasium was a spacious chamber with various items of equipment. Francesca tied Anne's leash to a hook in the wall and went to change. Returning, she led Anne in a workout to stretch her girl's arms and legs made stiff from hours of captivity in the basement. Then she stretched Anne, already excited and barely able to contain herself, in the form of an X to the corners of the frame.

She unpacked the instruments from her case, set them on a small table beside the frame, and began to exercise Anne lightly with a short-handled whip. Her owner still had the touch; within a minute Anne was writhing and moaning; within five, wet everywhere; within ten, half-conscious in rapture.

Around noon Francesca paused, wiped Anne down and spoon-fed her as she hung.

Mr. Schuyler came by to watch the proceedings. He invited Francesca to take lunch with him and tour his house, smaller than his country estate but still considerable. After giving Anne some water from a bottle, she left with him. Anne hung alone as patiently as she could but eager for the afternoon's encounter.

An hour or so later Francesca returned and resumed her practice with a mixed set of instruments. Anne felt first the light touch of a swipe to her nipples, then one that wrapped around and caressed her buttocks; a harder stroke between her opened legs, ohh... She closed her eyes and softened under her owner's control like clay in the hands of a sculptor.

Francesca continued to work her over with a riding crop until mid-afternoon, then showered, toweled Anne off again and rode home with her in the car.

To Anne's consternation, Francesca took her straight downstairs to the basement and chained her in place. As she refilled Anne's feed and water bowls, Anne looked up at her hopefully for an explanation but got none. She gave Anne a kiss on the forehead and walked away.

Anne was beside herself with anxiety. She reviewed her conduct for some error she might have made or offense she could have given, but found nothing. At last she decided Francesca was seeing someone that evening and didn't want Anne around; it was the only reason she could think of.

The rats were bolder that evening; they were becoming used to her presence. They sauntered through her cell, and when they saw they could approach with impunity they inspected her from head to toe. Anne was too miserable to move, even when they touched her. She got little sleep that night.

Francesca saw this when she came the next morning to take Anne upstairs. She asked Anne if something was the matter. Foolishly Anne told her what had gone through her mind last night.

Francesca replied sternly that Anne had forgotten what she was; how her owner chose to spend her time was none of Anne's business; and that if she persisted, she would have to be taught to learn her place.

Anne stood with bowed head. She absorbed the criticism and promised to do better. Francesca refilled her bowls and left her in the basement until Mr. Schuyler's car arrived to take them to the gym. When she heard it approach she wiped her face on the mattress to hide the traces of her tears.

Francesca removed the chain, attached her leash, and prepared to lead her upstairs. She stopped and said, "I wanted to spend the evening alone to get ready for my classes tomorrow, and I did. Now come." Anne followed her without a word, ashamed of her doubts and her arrogance in harboring them.

By the time they reached the gym, the emotional storm had blown over. In any case, a more significant matter caught their attention. Seated on a folding chair and smiling broadly was Sir Nigel. Anne heard Francesca say something very unladylike to herself.

After spreading Anne on the frame, Francesca went to look for Mr. Schuyler to tell him she did not want Sir Nigel around Anne. She was so angry she forgot she was leaving the two of them alone together with Anne tied up hand and foot.

Sir Nigel strolled over to the frame. He fondled her roughly, poking and prying her open at will as he whistled tunelessly for several minutes. Anne tried not to cry out but it was a struggle. He placed his hands around her neck and began to squeeze, watching her nipples stiffen from fear and excitement. After several more seconds he relaxed his grip and reached beneath her to see if he had made her wet. He had.

Mr. Schuyler appeared in a doorway and beckoned for Sir Nigel to attend him; after pinching her nipples so hard it brought tears to her eyes, he left. Anne remained hanging on the frame for nearly half an hour.

She tried to sort out her feelings. Sir Nigel was crude and brutal but he had a fascination for her that she could not shake off. He offered the most extreme and deadly form of possession, but something in her wanted, needed... no, she must not think of it.

Francesca returned. "Tell you later" was all she said, and she proceeded with the day's exercises as if nothing had happened. The morning was devoted to Francesca familiarizing herself with whips of different lengths and suppleness. After lunch she resumed work with the crops until she was satisfied with her performance. Sir Nigel did not appear again.

The car took them to Francesca's building and she led Anne up to her apartment, fastened her leash to the wall, gave her a floor pillow, and dropped onto the sofa.

"Sir Nigel has offered me a large sum of money for you, Anne."

Anne swallowed hard. "Enough to finish school, ma'am?"

"Enough to retire on; he's very wealthy and he doesn't like to be denied anything; right now he's been denied you."

"What will you do, ma'am?"

"I've already done it. I told him what I thought of him and his money. He made threats. We did not part as friends."

A traumatic memory flashed through Anne's mind. Just a few months earlier Sir Nigel borrowed her and took her to his estate. She remembered the stake in the courtyard and the hook at its top; being suspended from it as hungry dogs in kennels watched her; how he laughed at the sight of her trembling body before ordering her taken down and returned to her cell for the night. "Oh. Thank you, ma'am. Thank you very much."

"I don't think we've heard the last of him, little one. I told you what he wants, he takes; he wants you and I wouldn't be surprised if he tries to take you. We had better be careful. I'm going to check the building locks now; don't let anyone in while I'm gone. I don't think he'll try anything this soon but we need to be on our guard from now on."

"Yes, ma'am; would you like a chop tonight?"

"That would be fine, with some potatoes or rice if we have any; I'll be back in less than ten minutes. I have my keys."

Anne prepared to cook dinner; on her own she poured Francesca a small glass of red wine. Her mistress rarely drank, but some was on hand for a party here tomorrow and a little fortification was in order.

Francesca returned shortly, reporting that all the locks were secure. After dinner Anne sat at her feet, her morning's anger forgotten, until it was time for Anne to go downstairs and be chained in. Francesca checked the locks once more, but opened the door in the corner opposite Anne's cell. She set out water, kissed Anne on the forehead, turned off the light and went away.

Anne shivered that night, not just from the cold. Every time she heard a door open or some other sound she listened to tell if someone was approaching. Only the rats did; the bolder ones began to treat her as a feature of the landscape, a series of small hills between them and the water dish, and crawled over her to avoid going around.

In the morning Francesca appeared, dressed in slacks and blouse for the first day of classes. She refilled Anne's water and feed bowls, kissed her on the forehead, and left after Anne wished her a good day.

She returned in the afternoon full of cheer; her day had indeed been good, her classes enjoyable (they usually are on the first day, she said), and she was hosting a party that evening which Anne was to help with. She led Anne upstairs, and the two of them cleaned the flat and set out glasses and plates. She even let Anne shower in her bathroom, a rare indulgence after lying in the dirty cellar.

After brushing Anne's hair she took out a pink ribbon and tied it around her neck briefly before thinking better of it. She put a cloth napkin in Anne's mouth and tied another on the outside; her girl was not to speak to the guests.

Francesca greeted them as they arrived while holding Anne on her leash. Anne knelt beside her owner except when told to stand and curtsey. Later Francesca unbound her hands and she served wine and canapes, removed used plates and glasses, and when not in use knelt in a corner with her hands behind her. She tried to look sophisticated, but it was hard to do on her knees with a gag on.

Later Francesca let her stand and circulate mutely among the guests. Several of them looked over at Francesca, nodding in Anne's direction; Francesca smiled and whispered an answer.

Part of the evening was to be a life drawing class of her nude form; the guests ranged themselves on the sofa, chairs, and pillows as the dining table was moved aside. Anne's hands were bound in front and she was suspended by her wrists from the ceiling. Francesca whipped her lightly with a short crop to soften her features, and for the next half hour a dozen budding artists depicted her in chains.

Then the guests drew lots. Five of them (four men and a woman) were selected. Anne was let down, her hands bound behind her; the gag would keep her from disturbing the neighbors. She bent over the back of the sofa for them.

She cried out as the first man entered her, a barely audible squeak. A guest sitting on the sofa bent down to hear it and motioned for her date to join her; soon all the guests except the man inside her and Francesca who held her leash had their heads on the cushion next to Anne, listening. One of them suggested a prize for whoever got the loudest sound out of her. Each of the men tried their best with mixed results.

The woman was last. Standing behind Anne, she patiently caressed the insides of her thighs just above the knees, working slowly upwards. As she reached the top she began very gently to use her fingertips. Anne was trembling, moaning, and crying at the top of her still muffled voice. She was drenched in sweat as the woman continued her steady, deliberate exploration; Francesca had wisely laid a bath towel on the back of the sofa.

By the time the woman entered her, Anne was in a frenzy and sobbing incoherently; a moment later she lost consciousness. When she came to, she saw the woman's rivals congratulating her. Francesca left Anne to recover for a minute before telling her to stand.

She resumed her waitress duties, though with lowered eyes. Not long afterwards the guests left, expressing thanks to their hostess for a lovely evening (some with wistful glances at Anne, bent over the table removing the cloth), and the two straightened the furniture and did the dishes before Francesca took Anne downstairs for the night.

The next week settled into a routine; on school days her owner fed her before leaving for class. During the day she occupied herself with exercises to maintain her tone in the cramped confines of her cell. Sometimes she looked up outside her basement window at the sky and its changing cloud patterns, or took short naps.

In the afternoon Francesca retrieved her and brought her upstairs where she cleaned the apartment and made dinner. They sat or knelt at the table respectively while Francesca described her day. After Anne washed the dishes, she sat at Francesca's feet while the latter read; sometimes Francesca brushed her hair the way she did last summer when they met, before leading her down to the basement.