One morning in early spring Guy woke and fed Anne shortly before dawn. He had not taken her out in public yet and there was not much time left.
He led her outside in the chill air down the road, past town, to a large gray building surrounded by a barbed wire fence. A prison. Guy waved to a guard at the gate and pointed to Anne; he smiled and let them in.
The warden greeted the pair at the iron door of the entrance. He led them down a flight of stairs to a small windowless cell below ground. Guy remained in the hall while he took Anne inside and made her kneel before covering her eyes with a black cloth.
She heard him leave and lock the cell door with a heavy key before the two men walked away. She took a deep breath to calm her fears.
How long would they leave her alone in the dark here; minutes, hours? And then afterwards, what would they do with her?
Her ears became attuned to the silence. Then distant footsteps, the scraping of metal against stone, and a woman's scream cut off midway. She knelt in patient acceptance.
After some time the two men returned. She rose on command with her head submissively lowered while the warden inspected her.
He ran a finger around her lips and told her to suck on it. She caressed it with her tongue for him. He placed a hand between her legs and explored her; beads of sweat formed on her forehead and she began to moan.
Yes he said, too bad about Margaret but this one would do.
He removed her blindfold and led them upstairs into a larger cell. In front of her sat a large middle-aged woman on a metal chair. In the center of the cell was a wooden stool, the only other item of furniture.
Anne knelt at her feet as the warden explained. Thirty inmates had been selected for this month's good-behavior reward; each could have two minutes with the girl.
It wasn't much, but - he chuckled - they were already pretty excited, they knew how to "do their business" with her in the allotted time. Guy nodded, removed Anne's leash, and the two men left the ladies.
A door in the back of the cell opened and a young man appeared. He told Anne to lie on her back and took her; with only two minutes, introductions and other niceties were dispensed with.
The next man made her bend over the stool and used her from behind. He was slower, or Anne was tense and tight; when the matron called out "half a minute" he rushed to completion leaving Anne a little sore.
Fortunately the next one wanted her mouth.
At the end of the hour Anne lay dazed staring up at the painted gray ceiling. Thirty men had run through her in quick succession; this was what she lived for now, the reason for her existence, but it left her weak and uncoordinated. Matron had to pinch her nipples and slap her a couple times to bring her around when Guy returned with her leash.
She rose slowly; he attached it to her collar and led her outside through the exercise yard.
In the center was a sturdy post, the kind used for punishing criminals in past years. Matron fastened Anne's bracelets to a hook at its top; she expected to feel the strokes of a whip on her back and thighs at any moment.
But she was merely left tied to it for half an hour, to recover her strength and for entertainment of the crowd of men who watched and whistled each time she wagged her tail for them.
Guy retrieved her, told the warden "Same time next month, new girl" and led her back to the center of town.
In the middle of the village was a grassy park centered on a low boulder with a bronze plaque. The two arrived mid-morning; taking a light park chair for himself, he told Anne to drape herself over the rock and spread her legs.
She obeyed on the instant and was in position before he sat down. The rough stone grated on her breasts and the metal plaque was cold against the front of her thighs.
She remained in place most of the day. She thought she heard Guy leave and return around lunchtime but she dared not look up. Most of the townspeople who passed by the tableau ignored it, or made jokes; others, mostly women, called her a whore and some spat on her.
Someone else thrust his hand between her legs and lifted her hips. He asked her name and history which Guy was happy to recite while the hand penetrated her. Her body wriggled and her legs waved helplessly.
Guy kept up his jaunty demeanor the whole time, and late in the afternoon he told Anne to rise. He led her to a fish pond in a corner of the park.
She lapped up the stagnant water, ignoring the moss and coins in the pond while the carp gathered around her in hope of food.
When she had her fill he led her to a grocery across the street and attached her leash to the front of a shopping cart; she pulled it down the aisles while he picked up a few things to buy. At the checkout counter she stared at the floor. Her shoulders slumped and he told her to stand at attention.
In front of the store he unhitched her from the cart and made her kneel. A small crowd gathered as she ate feed pellets from his hand. Guy invited them to join him and a girl stepped forward.
Guy poured some pellets into her palm and she held them out to Anne, who picked them up with her tongue while the girl giggled. She petted Anne's head and said "Nice doggy"; Anne smiled up at her as the crowd laughed and her mother led her away.
Overhead, Anne heard a young woman say she wanted to be like that; Guy gave her his card.
Leaving the store he led Anne down the road back to his house. About halfway there, an old friend invited him to stop and take a glass of wine. Etienne brewed it in his cellar and a new batch was ready.
Guy pulled sideways on the leash and drove Anne up the walk to the house.
He settled her on the porch between two chairs and took one for himself. From inside the house, Anne heard a radio playing "Donna e mobile". Like a feather in the wind; how well that described her.
Etienne returned with glasses of his inky dark red and the two gentlemen toasted each other.
Anne knelt silently while they deplored the present state of the world. After a lull in the conversation Etienne jerked a thumb at Anne and said "Yours?"
Guy explained he was training Anne for a friend, but her time was up - he needed the space for another girl who was arriving next week - and he had not heard from her owner.
He had to decide whether to sell her, give her away, or just put her down.
Anne was struck as if by a physical blow. She hung her head in dejection. So, Francesca had forgotten her. It was inevitable she told herself, and really for the best.
"Be a shame to kill it. Could be worth something."
