At Work Ch. 03

Finally they reached home. Renee squeezed Anne's behind like a buyer assessing the merchandise and handed over her leash. As they entered the front door, Francesca dropped onto the couch. Anne knelt beside her as she stroked Anne's hair for a minute before standing up.

"It's time for our ride." She led Anne into the kitchen to a water bowl, and Anne lapped up a quantity; the walk home had been warm. Francesca ran a glass of water from the tap for herself and put an ice cube in it.

Anne tried to remember when she last drank from a glass, but she could not. From the first night of her training - less than two years ago, but it seemed much longer - her master made her drink from bowls on the floor.

She ate that way too except sometimes out of Francesca's hand. That was a sign she was pleased with Anne who was learning to read her owner's moods.

Yesterday she noticed the ice trays were empty and put water in them. Francesca said nothing, she probably did not know, but she smiled down at Anne and that was enough.

Francesca walked her to the shed and opened the large door. She released Anne's bracelets. "Pull it out while I get your harness." Anne looked forward to being shown off to the neighbors.

She took up the shafts. Without passengers the chaise was light; Anne had no trouble drawing it onto the lawn. Francesca emerged with the harness and she bent down to be fitted.

The bridle went over her head. Two rings at the side attached to the reins for the driver to control her, and the large padded bit in her mouth pushed her tongue back. She could breathe, she could probably even make sounds, but she would not talk.

A pair of leather straps crossed below her breasts and (Anne thought) caused them to protrude attractively. And the breeching strap just below her buttocks emphasized their curves.

Francesca secured Anne to the shafts before climbing into the driver's seat. She set a short whip in a socket by it and took up the reins. At a shake just like the familiar shake of her leash, Anne pulled the chaise across the lawn and onto the road.

A tug on the right rein: they would not go into town but away from it. That was wise, Anne needed to learn her duties before she appeared in crowds. She was not nervous or skittish today, but she needed practice; Francesca knew her.

She padded at a comfortable pace up the road. Francesca tested speeding up a little, then down, then up again until she was satisfied with Anne's responsiveness to commands.

Anne was in bliss. Out under the blue sky pulling her owner's carriage, learning a new way to serve her, perfect happiness. Mindful of how her mind wandered, she paid attention to each signal on the reins and spoken command. All her being focused on pleasing the young woman in the driver's seat behind her.

They passed through a neighborhood of attractive suburban homes with wide, well-kept lawns. Children and their parents looked up as they passed; Anne held her head high and stood erect to thrust her breasts forward.

Their world might have been hers. A sensible middle-class matron keeping house, raising children, seeing her husband off to work in the morning and the kids to school, discussing their performance with the teacher. What did they think of the naked figure pulling her owner up the road? She...

A snap of the whip on her rear brought her back. How did her owner know? Anne could not guess; she returned to her work with renewed vigor, grateful for the chastisement.

Francesca used the whip lightly. Her drivers back at the academy delighted in striking her with it for their pleasure. Though that was good too; Vincent left her covered with welts, but they excited young Morgan who disdained her until then and that evening allowed her to take him in her mouth.

At a fork in the road, Francesca pulled again on the right and Anne responded. They entered an area of hills and winding curves; Anne slowed at the ascent. Francesca called out some words of encouragement and she picked up her pace, a little tired but determined not to disappoint her owner.

The route leveled and at a shake of her reins she began a gentle trot. "Good girl" she heard from behind her, and she beamed. At this pace she had to watch for stones beneath her feet.

Soon she was dusty and disheveled from the effort. Her body glistened with sweat; she hoped the sight appealed to her owner who applied the whip to her now and then to keep her attention on the road.

They reached the crest of the hill and Francesca let her pause to rest. She removed the bit from Anne's mouth, stroked her hair and led her to a water trough beside an ornamented column. Anne was puffing a little from the exertion, but she drank all she was allowed and ate a handful of feed pellets her owner held out to her. Afterwards Francesca took her over to a graveled area to squat and relieve herself.

Francesca led her back to the column. It was topped by the figure of a girl, nude except for a harness, and a bronze plaque at the base showed six of them pulling a large old-fashioned coach. Beside it was another plaque partially filled with a list of names and dates.

She told Anne that if a girl had been good her owner might have her name placed on the column after her termination. Anne saw the last two names were recently engraved.

She shivered despite the warmth of the day. This might be her fate when Francesca tired of her; everyone said the careers of girls like her were short. Some ended badly in a brothel or a ditch; these girls were the lucky ones dispatched humanely by their masters. At least she hoped so.

While she recovered her strength she had time to look around her. On the summit of another hill, isolated but not far away, a long driveway wound up to a mansion with landscaped grounds. This was the residence of Francesca's boss Georges. In back were some gray cubes, probably cells for his girls.

After another minute Francesca put her bridle back on and harnessed her for the trip back. The sun was bright and Anne grew hot on the country road. The way was steeply downhill in places and the breeching strap rubbed against her haunches. Her owner noticed and pulled her off to the side for inspection.

Francesca's cool hands spread her cheeks and raised the strap; that should ease the rash until they got to town for salve. She drove Anne at a slow pace past their cottage to Casey's; the owner came out and helped Francesca unhitch her and take her inside.

There she bent Anne over a counter and examined the disturbed skin while half a dozen customers looked on. She produced a jar of ointment and rubbed it in; it stung a little and she wiggled her behind which made everyone laugh.

"That should do it. Put some more on tonight and again first thing tomorrow morning and drive her anywhere. But you need a better strap. Come with me."

She led the two into the back room, a large space with racks of equipage. Against the far wall a young blonde girl was spread-eagled to iron rings set in the bricks. Casey explained she bought Florence last month and was training her.

She slapped Flo's face and held her hands up to be kissed, then turned and led her customers over to the racks. Francesca chose a tanned strap with rounded edges.

"And a garrote."

Anne's blood ran cold as Casey measured her neck and looked through a drawer before returning with one of braided leather with a wire core.

Her owner fitted it on her and she tried to speak, but the padded bit of the bridle filled her mouth.

"Quiet," said Francesca as she tightened the garrote against Anne's throat. Anne felt her nipples, perhaps her whole breasts rising and her sex growing wet.

Casey was impressed. "Hot already and you haven't even cut her off yet."

"She's like that; falls in love with anybody who controls her. Too smart, though. Took months to cure it."

They saw Florence watching them with alarm. "Know what you mean; I start the garrote on that one tomorrow," said Casey; "One lesson at a time for them. She's very bright like your girl, they're the worst."

She gave Flo another slap. "If yours needs a lesson, bring her over; I'll deal with her."

"That's good of you; she needs to be driven out of her brilliant mind now and then."

Casey chuckled and ran her fingers through Anne's hair. "I can do that, all right."

Francesca paid for her new gear and they left the store. She harnessed Anne and the two returned home. After Anne stowed the chaise away, her owner stroked her breasts and congratulated her.

"Not bad for a first time, little one." Anne glowed at those words of praise.

She led Anne into her cell and poured a bowl of water for her before locking her in. Anne drank from it, stretched out on the dirt and was asleep in seconds. It had been a long day.

Her owner woke her an hour later and took her inside. Her feed and water bowls awaited her in the kitchen; she touched her forehead to the floor in thanks, and Francesca stood over her as she ate.

After dinner, Anne knelt at her feet as usual. Finally she roused herself. "What am I thinking of? I have to review my materials or I'll look like a fool Monday morning; I'm not even sure where my office is. Where is that notebook, the blue one?"

"Over there on the desk, ma'am; I put it on top so you could find it."

"Thank you, Anne; you are a dear." Retrieving the book she sat on the couch and studied it with one hand resting on Anne's head. Afterwards she freed Anne's bracelets and sent her into the kitchen.

When Anne had finished the dishes, she said "Come here", pointing to the floor beside her. Anne knelt by her side as she stroked Anne's hair.

"You're a hot property, little one; already Maria wants you, and Georges remembers you from last year." Anne also remembered his rough assault in the library on the openings of her body; afterwards he had Francesca suspend her by her wrists for the night so he could go to sleep dreaming of her.

"Most of the town will be panting for you too after seeing you. And someone wants me to breed you, to himself of course." Anne looked up, wondering if her owner would do that.

"I'm going to put you away for the night so I can study. Tomorrow I start work early; Renee will look after you in the back yard. Celeste will be there too, I think. If it works out we'll continue with it till I find a better way. Maybe I can just leave you outside and find someone to feed you; or take you to the office with me, but not on my first day."

"Yes ma'am."

"I'll be out of town all next week. Maria has very kindly offered to board you at her place. After that I should have a better idea of what to do with you when I'm not at home. Any questions?"

"No ma'am, thank you."

Francesca led Anne to her enclosure, attached her ceiling tether, and padlocked the door. Anne lay on the ground wondering what lay ahead for them. She heard various small animals chittering outside on the lawn; the cricket seemed to be taking the night off.

Early the next morning Francesca appeared nude in Anne's cell. Anne looked up in surprise, then quickly down again; she was not allowed to stare. Was her owner testing her, or teasing her with this display? She remembered the few times she had seen her like this; changing in the gymnasium at Mr. Schuyler's, or leading Anne into her bedroom last month. Anne dared to hope...

But no, she was just in a hurry. She slept in the buff and came in to feed and water Anne. She filled the bowls and left.

She returned fifteen minutes later in her most formal businesswoman's suit, the one she wore to dinner on the day they met a year ago. She looked the model of a corporate executive; no one would guess the generous heart or the penetrating mind that lay within.

Anne's own heart melted at the sight. Perhaps this evening she would be able to pick some flowers from the garden and arrange them on the dinner table.

"Get up, little one; I have to prepare you for Renee and get myself out the door; wouldn't do to be late my first day at work."

Anne rushed through her toilet; Francesca led her outside and tied the leash to a stake before giving her a quick peck on the forehead and leaving for work.

About twenty minutes later Renee appeared with Celeste, carrying a case and a garrote. Celeste wandered down the hill toward Francesca's house. After spreading Anne on the frame, Renee placed the garrote snugly around her neck.

"In memory of our first meeting," she said grinning. She told Anne of the things she had learned since their encounter at Sir Nigel's. Many of them left no marks. Anne felt herself growing wet. She knew she was being seduced but she was helpless to oppose it.

Renee ran her hands slowly over Anne before taking out her instruments and using them with a severity Anne had not experienced for months. She begged Renee for pity, mercy, just a moment's respite, all without results. Anne found herself irresistibly drawn to her.

She fainted and Renee slapped her back to consciousness. She saw Celeste down the hill, picking daisies from the lawn and threading them in her hair.

Renee talked to Anne as she worked. She had heard from Sir Nigel the week before. Anne looked up in surprise.

Oh yes, Renee said, the story of his drowning was just a ruse he put out to mask his disappearance; he was back now and looking for Anne. She hadn't known where Anne was at the time, but now she did, and she might tell him so he could come and visit her.

Anne knew what to expect from such a visit; being kidnapped, used for a time, and given to his dogs. Sir Nigel was immensely wealthy and lived by no law but his own brutal instincts. She had barely escaped him earlier, and the news of his drowning came as a relief to many.

Now it was called a fiction, and he was on the hunt again; for her.

At midday Renee paused. After having lunch from her pack she offered Anne a nippled water bottle to suck on but no food. The garrote made swallowing hard but Anne managed, slowly, and thanked her.

After lying on the ground for a while, Renee exercised Anne for the rest of the afternoon. Weakened from the heat, lack of food, and hours of beating, her cries became fainter and her defenses crumbled.

Soon Anne was completely Renee's and could not remember what day it was or how she came to be here. She lost track of all but the present moment and the strokes of her new lover.

Finally Renee paused. After giving Anne some water, she pressed her mouth to Anne's and entered her.

Anne heard herself saying "I'm yours" in a husky voice just as Celeste approached. Anne begged Renee to take her.

Renee knelt in front of Anne and spread the soft inside flesh of her thighs apart. Anne opened herself to the experience; desire overwhelmed her soul.

Celeste watched for a while, looked down, picked a blade of grass and played with it between her teeth.

Finally Renee led Celeste away after promising to say hello to Sir Nigel.

Francesca returned shortly afterwards looking distracted. She released Anne from the frame and led her back to the house, failing to notice her unsteadiness.

Her day had not gone well, she told Anne over dinner; she wondered if she made the right choice in taking this job. Much would depend on Georges' support.

Anne's mind was returning to her, and she offered sympathy. After dinner when she knelt at her mistress's side, she asked Francesca if it was possible that Sir Nigel was alive.

"I suppose so, though I doubt it; I think he's really gone for good. Why?"

"Renee said the drowning was just a story, and he's back now."

"It's in her interest to say that, to have people thinking she has a powerful friend. I don't say it's impossible, but it's unlikely."

"Thank you, ma'am. I don't want for him to die, but he was trouble for us, wasn't he?"

"You're too kind, Anne; yes, he was a whole lot of trouble."

Anne tried to encourage her mistress. "I think you'll do all right in the job, ma'am; everybody has first-day jitters. I remember how I was when I started in a new office." She leaned her head on Francesca's knee.

"Thank you, Anne; you are such a comfort." She sat quiet for a minute stroking Anne's hair, then rose and took hold of the leash. "Follow me." She led Anne into her bedroom.

Afterwards she let Anne sleep on a small carpet. Anne reveled in the luxury; the braided rug was like a feather mattress after the earth and stone floor of her cells. She listened to her owner's deep, regular breathing for almost a while before drifting off herself.

The next three days were like Monday: Anne was lashed to the frame as Francesca left for work in the morning and worked over by Renee till late afternoon, reduced to mindless desire again and again while Celeste wandered afield or watched.

Her trainer continued to talk of Sir Nigel and his imminent return, speculating on his treatment of Anne once he had her in his keeping. Each morning Anne submitted to her more readily, falling under Renee's power again and again.

Francesca seemed to brighten up after Monday, but she did not invite Anne to her room. Unwashed after each day's ordeal, Anne grew caked with dirt, sweat and more; but she was so exhausted she dropped off almost before Francesca finished locking her in.