Town And Country Ch 06

The next Saturday morning was warm for the time of year; Francesca was in the cellar feeding Anne and refilling her water bowl when she had an idea.

"I think I'll take you out to the campus today, little one. We could both use a walk and some fresh air."

Anne beamed with pleasure as Francesca leashed her and unhooked the chain that held her to the wall. They went upstairs where she helped her owner pick out a light wool dress and retreated to the living room while Francesca changed. Her owner bound her and led her outside, the first time Anne had passed through the front door of the building. They crossed the street to the grassy park she viewed from a window on her arrival.

At first Anne was anxious about what people would think of her, but she quickly got over it. Most of them ignored her; some scrutinized her as they passed; others wished the two a good morning. A pair of old women viewed her with disgust. Like her owner, Anne received all their attentions with poise.

She rejoiced in the experience, out in public naked on a leash, shedding her last inhibition. Happily she walked behind Francesca, proud to be her property.

Still, she hoped for reasons she could not explain that she would not meet anyone who remembered her as a rising young professional. She told herself there was no chance of this since she was far from her old acquaintances.

Feeling secure she was all the more startled to hear herself called by name. She squirmed at the encounter and jerked her head back, pulling at the leash.

Francesca slapped Anne and told her to behave. It was not a former colleague though, but Marc and Berenice. Anne was on her knees kissing Francesca's hands as they approached.

They introduced themselves to Francesca while Anne knelt silent and forgotten. Marc described their meeting in the basement and Francesca explained that was where she kept her girl. Marc was twenty, an undergraduate in psychology. He put his hand on Anne's head and she reddened.

Berenice was three years older; she studied advanced mathematics, a subject that fascinated Francesca who suggested they all repair to a nearby cafe. Marc offered to take Anne and let the two women get acquainted.

Francesca handed Anne's leash to him and walked toward the cafe with Berenice. Anne stood up to follow them and felt a hand on her shoulder; she sank back quickly on the sidewalk, almost bruising her knees on the pavement but it was too late.

The young man's voice was stern. He didn't tell her to get up; did Francesca let her stand without permission?

"No, sir."

Then she did wrong; he should tell her owner.

"Yes, sir. I have no excuse."

After a lengthy pause Marc shook her leash and she rose, humbled. He examined her in silence for a minute before telling her to move. The two women were already some distance ahead and about to cross the avenue.

Anne wondered if Marc intended to lead her off alone somewhere. Still, she was comfortable under the youth's control. He directed her with the leash as reins; a pull to slow down or turn, a slap on the shoulders to speed up. She made herself as docile as could be and wiggled her hips a little, hoping he would desire her.

His handling reminded her of Sir Nigel, so masterful and firm. She wondered if she would ever find herself under Sir Nigel's control again, and take him in her mouth... A sharp tug on her leash brought her back to reality.

"I said turn right. Now."

"Yes sir; I'm sorry sir." She gave Marc her undivided attention after that.

By the time they reached the cafe, Francesca and Berenice had found an outside table. Marc fastened her leash to an iron fence and she knelt on the sidewalk at a sign from him.

He told Francesca that Anne had been disobedient. "That's serious," she replied; "I'll have to punish her for it. Were you, Anne?"

She hung her head and said "Yes ma'am, I was."

She had it coming; Francesca was still too indulgent with her and this was the result.

With that out of the way, the three ordered coffee and croissants for themselves. The fragrance reminded Anne of earlier times when she used to dine with friends at outdoor cafes. It also reminded her that she was hungry; she hoped Francesca would feed her later despite the promise of punishment.

Francesca asked the waiter to bring a bowl of water for Anne with a slice of lemon. Anne smiled up at her owner in gratitude as she bent forward, lapping up water to assuage her hunger. She noticed Marc's fingertips on her back tracing the marks of a riding crop.

While the three got acquainted in a conversation that did not include her, she poked the lemon slice with her tongue and pushed it around like a raft. Her "courtesan training" at St. Agnes included tongue exercises; they would be surprised to see the use she made of it.

It turned out that Berenice's two sisters chose the same life as Anne. A Turkish brothel bought Alicia last year and she had not been heard from since; the youngest Cecile belonged to Marc's cousin Jules, a professor at the university, and was being trained at St. Agnes.

Marc suggested he borrow his cousin's car and the four of them visit her on Sunday. Anne shivered at the idea as much as at the chill breeze which had just sprung up. Seeing this, Marc asked her if she had been trained there too. Anne looked up at Francesca who nodded her permission to speak. In answer to Marc's questions, she described her stay.

She told them of her first night and learning to sleep naked on the stone floor of her cell, her metal collar attached to a tether that hung from the ceiling. The next day, spread outside for all to view; the initial terror of her first ever whipping around sunset, and overcoming her resistance to it; being led to the clubroom and taken by numbers of men beyond counting who drew cards for their turn in her; the daily routine of obedience and behavior training, punishment for her failings, the bench she was tied to at dinnertime for use by club members, and more.

"It sounds very severe," said Marc.

"Yes sir, it was; but" - she hesitated - "necessary for some of us. I know it was for me."

She spoke the last words so softly that she had to repeat them for the group.

"Do you still need it, the severity?"

"Yes, sir, I do."

Berenice looked at her and said "Then you always will, Anne."

She raised her head a little and said gently, "I think so, ma'am".

Berenice laid a hand on Marc's arm to get him to change the subject. He asked if she would prefer not to go back; she looked up in mute appeal to Francesca who shook her head and told him Anne was not allowed to express likes and dislikes, before accepting for both of them. They agreed to meet at her place Sunday morning.

Anne stood up at Francesca's command and Marc inspected her, running his hand over the lash marks on her breasts and belly. Pale lines covered her body from neck to knees. Marc asked Francesca if she got them at St. Agnes.

Francesca replied she put them there herself at the request of Anne's previous owner.

Marc pinched Anne's nipples before taking Berenice's hand and leaving. The sensation lingered for a minute and she followed him with her eyes; Francesca had to slap her again, more gently this time, to get her attention.

"Forget him, little one; Berenice told me they're engaged." Anne blushed as she stood on the sidewalk.

Francesca led Anne on a leisurely stroll through the park. Anne reveled in the warm sunshine on her bare skin. Perhaps Marc lived nearby - no, she mustn't think of him.

In a flash it came to her that Marc wanted her punished, that he had set her up for this. She gave a little jump and Francesca told her to keep moving. She was afraid but grateful to him for the lesson. Really it was delicious to be out here under the sun knowing she would be taken down to the cellar and whipped a minute later.

Outside their building she took a deep breath of fresh air and a last look at the open sky and the trees. She noticed a flower box of red geraniums by a window. She had a small flower garden in her apartment before she gave herself to her first owner; she wondered what became of it.

Francesca let her stand and drink in the sight of the outdoors for a few seconds before giving her leash a gentle shake and leading her into the basement. Anne descended the stairs slowly, a feeling of dread growing in her with each step. Her owner's light grasp on the leash belied Francesca's intention to administer a "sharp" correction to her.

Francesca stood Anne behind the leather chair and went away; she returned a minute later with two pieces of cloth and a short crop ending in a narrow loop of bamboo. Briskly she stuffed one of the cloths in Anne's mouth and secured it in place with the other before telling Anne to bend over the chair.

Anne had a last moment to contemplate her impending punishment while her owner tested the crop; she heard it whistle through the air before Francesca struck her, hard.

By the third stroke Anne was screaming, but only a faint squeak came through the cloth gag. Francesca methodically planted ten evenly spaced blows on her from the waist down, paused, then two more.

She stopped, cleaned the instrument and stood back to inspect her work. "Open your legs," she said.

Terrified, Anne exposed her most sensitive places, but the punishment was over; her owner was testing her. Francesca placed a hand between her thighs to assert control and calm her until she stopped writhing.

She pulled Anne upright by her collar, removed the gag and dried her face before pointing to the far corner. Barely able to move, Anne walked stiffly across the basement. Each step required all her attention.

After chaining her in the coal bin Francesca kissed her forehead and refilled the water bowl. Anne began to cry again, but more softly this time and Francesca paid no attention to her. Anne tried to speak, but no words came out of her throat as Francesca walked away.

Anne tasted the cool water; it was good. So was the small amount of feed left in the other bowl.

She lay on the mattress with her hips raised and leaning against the rough wood. Her backside burned like fire all afternoon, a constant reminder of her faults, but her head began to clear.

The whipping was a good sign; her owner hadn't given up on her. There was still hope she could show the young woman she was worth keeping.

Around sundown Francesca returned. She rinsed Anne's bowls and wiped them clean before adding fresh water to one and a handful of pellets to the other. Anne crawled over on her knees - she was very hungry now - and ate her dinner. Francesca ordered her to stand; she lowered her head and looked at the floor while her owner inspected her.

But she smiled when Francesca stroked her breasts and watched her nipples rise. Francesca smiled too, and kissed her on the cheek before turning and going upstairs.