Shortly after their campus visit, Mr. Schuyler offered to do Francesca a small favor which had enormous unforeseen consequences. To assist her financially he engaged her for a recital to friends and clients at his townhouse.
Anne was chained in the basement one afternoon, sitting on her mattress watching a row of ants cross the floor beside it. They found a feed pellet on the floor and swarmed on it at once. She was enjoying the sight of the creatures at their banquet and wondering if they would like seconds when she heard someone descend the stairs and open the door behind her.
The steps did not sound like Francesca's; they were hurried and heavy. She knelt with her head down and waited for the intruder to appear. But it was her owner, excited with the news. She poured out a half measure of pellets; Anne was not to be exercised on a full stomach.
She kissed Anne's cheek and went upstairs to change; their host was a gentleman of the old school and she wanted to put on something appropriate for their visit. She returned a few minutes later in a suit of dark gray wool, carrying a gym bag and with a raincoat over her arm.
"It's windy outside with a trace of rain. We'll walk quickly; it's just a few blocks."
She released Anne from the wall chain and led her to the entrance hall, where other residents stared out at the weather, then at her. One held Anne's leash while Francesca put her raincoat on before driving Anne out the door. In her haste, Anne tugged on her leash; Francesca had to pull her back and remind her that her owner set the pace.
Anne shivered on the journey in the autumn air and her teeth began to chatter. The wind picked up wet leaves and blew them against her legs. In front of Mr. Schuyler's, Francesca laughed at the sight and removed them before ringing the door bell. A servant appeared immediately (one had been told to watch for their approach) and admitted them. Francesca handed him her coat while a second held Anne's leash. A white-gloved hand peeled a leaf from Anne's breasts. She curtseyed to him, happy to be inside again.
Francesca led Anne down to the locker room beside the gymnasium. Following her in the corridor, Anne admired her owner's confident, erect bearing. She looked like a lady ambassador or the head of a corporation.
Was this the suit she wore the first day when she took Anne out to dinner? Yes, the formal one with the pinstripes. The ivory silk blouse was the same too; Anne used to have one like that. Naked ever since she gave herself to Paul, Anne paid attention to the dress of others and especially Francesca.
In the locker room Francesca told Anne to kneel and chained her to a floor grating. Anne watched with mounting excitement as Francesca removed her jacket, skirt, blouse and lingerie, tensing at the sight of her owner's young body so close but so unattainable. Firm, full breasts; a flat hard belly above a pair of solid thighs, with a nest of dark reddish-brown fleece between them at the top where they met to conceal unimaginable joys within.
Anne could not bear it. She was in heat, she became wet, she started to pant; she struggled to control herself. At some point she even mewed like a cat.
Francesca paid no attention to the scene but put on her tights and leotard. When she was ready, she took up Anne's leash and led her into the gym where Mr. Schuyler and members of his household staff sat in chairs. They exchanged knowing glances at Anne's signs of girl-fever, and she reddened to see her condition was so obvious.
A young man held the end of her leash while Francesca bound her wrists and ankles to the four corners of the frame. Anne thrilled every time her owner's hand touched her, or paused to stroke her neck as she detached the leash.
Francesca began to wield her instruments and Anne welcomed the distraction they provided. Reducing her to an animal frenzy was easy today; her frustrated desire left her sensitive to the slightest touch of the whip.
Mr. Schuyler's gray-haired servant Frieda attended the practice as well and Francesca invited her to have a turn with Anne. She paused a moment to size up her victim. Francesca had taken advantage of Anne's inflamed condition; she might see what she could do without it. Clad in a shapeless pale garment, she stepped forward with a riding crop in each hand.
Sharply she struck random locations at irregular times with one or the other; Anne never knew what was coming next, or where or when.
The unpredictability of the blows unnerved Anne. She pleaded with the remorseless old woman to stop, to pause, please just for a moment, I'll do anything; but the pace only quickened, then quickened more.
When she came to and opened her eyes again, the gymnasium was empty. Later Francesca told her she continued to grovel even after Frieda wiped down her instruments and put them away. Frieda appeared in the doorway to the locker room; Anne began to tremble, but she was carrying only a towel. Wordlessly she dried Anne's face and body, then lowered her from the frame and bound her. She led the weak bedraggled creature upstairs through a part of the house Anne had never seen.
She paused at a leather-covered door and Anne's fears returned. Unseen hands opened it; she prodded her naked captive into a penthouse suite where Francesca, dressed once again in her wool suit, and Mr. Schuyler sat drinking tea from thin porcelain cups. The clouds had passed and late afternoon sun streamed in through tall windows.
