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.