The Summer of Francesca Ch. 12

One evening she was at Paul's place after a lesson. He had fed and used her - he said she was improving, which made her happy - and she sat at his feet with her leash dangling while he reclined on the couch.

He had a job for her. Mr. Grant was a client of her firm; did she know him?

Only by reputation, she said. He was a wealthy executive whose company did government projects, but it was all very secret. Not even the colleagues she slept with would tell her.

Paul held up a photograph; did she recognize him? With her hands behind her she could not hold it, but she looked and said she did. Very good; he would attend a cocktail party at the firm's offices tomorrow and she was to introduce herself to him.

What Paul said next took her breath away. She was to seduce him that evening and let him take her to his apartment. He was a sound sleeper; Paul had sent girls to him before. She would go to the office next to his bedroom and plant a small "device" behind his desk.

There were obstacles. The main one was his bodyguard; Karl was fiercely loyal to his boss and had a reputation for brutality. A former prizefighter, he was barred from the ring after killing an opponent. He would search her thoroughly before allowing her into Mr. Grant's apartment.

Then how was she to conceal the device?

In her body. Paul reached over to a table and picked up an object like a large fountain pen in a plastic case. He demonstrated placing it in the case and removing it. His girls had told him how Mr. Grant used them, and she could safely store it inside her pretty derriere.

Anne blanched and almost said "I can't", but she recovered herself. There was no question of disobeying him, she had gone too far for that. What would happen if she was discovered, she asked.

She could lose her job and go to prison. But more likely, Karl would deal out a summary punishment to the trespasser and he, Paul, would have to find another girl.

She sat naked on the floor while Paul walked about the room, describing the strategy she would use to gain his confidence and access to his office. Paul unrolled a plan of the apartment which she was to memorize. The main living/dining area inside the door, kitchen to the left. Beyond was the bedroom, and from there a door to the office which she would use. A second door entered it from the hallway but was locked at night. Anne studied the plan until she had it down by heart.

The next afternoon at five o'clock she closed the door of her office, lifted her skirt and tried to insert the device. The case had a wide end with a small ring for a handle; in her nervous state she started to put it in the wrong way before she realized her mistake. Should she ask Debbie to do it for her? No, the fewer people who knew about this the better. Her hands shook as she slid it in; it was larger than she remembered. Well, that was for the best, it would keep her focused on her task. And it was comforting in a way; a bit of Paul inside her.

She stood up and undid the top buttons of her blouse before unlocking the door and going downstairs to the lobby where the party had begun, to offer herself to a stranger.

Mr. Grant was there surrounded by a group of men who handled government work for the firm, speaking in low tones. He was in his thirties, about ten years older than Anne, and rather good-looking; yes, very. She began to feel a warmth between her legs that made her look forward to the night's adventure. She went up to him and introduced herself, noting his attention to her opened shirt and metal collar. The other men discreetly melted away from the pair. He offered to get her a drink and the two of them walked over to the bar. She asked for a tonic water and accepted it from his hands, which lingered on hers for a moment and touched one of her bracelets.

Anne was unused to taking the active role in a seduction, but she tried to make small talk while he examined her. After a few minutes he asked her out to dinner and she agreed with relief; so far everything was going according to plan.

Outside the building, he hailed a cab and told the driver to take them to Le Coq d'Or. This awoke fresh anxieties in Anne. At least the driver was not the one who took her to the park with Paul; or was he, she could not tell, she didn't think so.

But the maitre d' was the same; he gave only the barest hint of recognition as she entered, and showed the couple to the center table she shared with Paul. Anne looked down to avoid the stares of the other patrons.

From time to time she stole a glance at him. Yes, he was quite attractive. She wished she had met him under other circumstances; they could be friends or lovers, real lovers for life. She pictured herself learning from him and helping him with his work. Instead he was to be her victim for the benefit of others, for reasons she was not told. It made her a little sad and she shifted in her chair. The device inside her shifted as well. It recalled her to her task and she stifled her romantic longings for the moment.

She wished Paul were here, she would know how to behave. But the waiter was a seasoned professional; he handed a menu to her companion and left. Mr. Grant asked her if she would like one and she told him no, she was in his hands entirely.

"The special diet, then", he said and she nodded. So he knew about that. Her nervousness abated. She was comfortable with him now, she knew her place and relaxed. She wondered how much else he knew, especially about her, what she was and who she belonged to. Mr. Grant gave their orders to the waiter and in time his plate and her bowls arrived. She ate out of his hand; they understood each other. She took the rest of her dinner from the bowl, bent forward as usual with her hands in back. Her appearance with another man tonight was the object of much attention and whispered comment around her.

In time they finished dinner and she followed a few paces behind him out of the restaurant. This time Karl met them in Mr. Grant's car. Anne thought he eyed her suspiciously as he helped her in.

At the door to the apartment, her companion paused. He regretted the inconvenience, but security required that all guests be searched before entering. She was silent and Karl began to examine her. He was unaffected by the discovery that she wore no lingerie, but continued to run his hands over her body. He placed them between her legs which gave her a moment of fear, and she steeled herself to appear calm. He parted her cheeks and she shuddered but he did not probe her.

Finally he signaled his approval and ushered the pair inside while he remained in the hallway. Mr. Grant asked her if she would like a drink and she requested some water.

He poured a bowl for her and set it on the floor. She knew the drill; this was her cue. She undid the fastenings of her skirt and allowed it to fall softly to the floor as at Maude's. She removed her blouse with the same care, dipped gracefully to pick the skirt up and draped them on the back of a sofa before kneeling to drink.

Mr. Grant stood behind her. Again she became anxious, this time that he would see the end of the device. To turn away from him would alert his suspicions. She hoped she had planted it deeply enough. But he said nothing and her worries eased.

She stood and asked him to show her the apartment. The kitchen was large and modern, with gleaming countertops. Anne noticed at once the jar of feed pellets. She would be at home here. Coming to him every evening to be fed and spend the night, making breakfast for him in the morning. Sitting at his feet while he worked, easing his cares of the day...

He led her back through the living room into the bedroom whose understated refinement impressed her. And a bed again; she looked forward to sleeping in it, curled up next to its owner when her job was done. He would not make her lie on the floor by herself like Paul. If only... no, she was here to carry out Paul's orders. But maybe afterwards if she succeeded, Paul would send her here again. She cherished the hope.

At the far end of the bedroom was a low-walled balcony that looked down on the city below. She walked out on it nude.

"I've always wanted to do that," she said. "Do you suppose anyone is watching?"

"I am," said Mr. Grant as he drew her inside toward the bed.

She resisted playfully and asked "What's behind that door?", pointing to the office.

"My inner sanctum, the holy of holies; you can't go in but I'll let you look through the doorway."

As he opened it, Anne noted it was unlocked; good, good, just as Paul said. She stood in the entrance and took in the layout: the desk with some papers on it beside a window, a small conference table, an alcove with the door to the outside hallway. There was just enough room behind the desk for her to crawl in and plant the device.

He tugged her more forcefully back into the bedroom and this time she did not resist.

When he was finally done with her a half hour later, she had almost forgotten her plan. She barely remembered where she was; his lovemaking was so powerful that it reached down to the most intimate recesses of her mind. The device inside her, he didn't seem to notice it, but it amplified his thrusts; it was like having two men in her at the same time. In front and in back; was that possible? Paul would know. Maybe she could save the case for another day.

And she was exhausted; she meant to wear him out but he was far ahead of her in that game.

Awareness returned to her. She was here for a reason. Someone told her...yes, it was Paul. She recalled his orders and again felt the device within her. She remembered now. She dared not disobey.

Mr. Grant lay on his back snoring with one leg on hers. Fighting the desire for sleep, she extricated herself from under him and got up.

She stole over to the office, turned the knob slowly and opened the door. She would leave fingerprints but that could not be helped. She left the door ajar - she did not want to be trapped inside - and crept forward to his desk. The window provided just enough dim light to work by.

She pulled the case from her body and removed the device. She reinserted the case in herself; it would not do to leave it here.

When she crawled into the narrow space between the desk and the wall she got an unpleasant surprise. The gap where she was to set the device was not there. For a moment she panicked; had she come all this way only to fail at the end?

She shook her head and explored further. There it was, on the other side of the drawer. Paul's spies had just reversed the location, that was all. She put the object in the gap with infinite care, checked that it was secure, and backed out into the room.

A noise made her look up. Karl stood in the alcove by the other door, watching. He had seen everything. Pinning an arm behind her he forced her out onto the balcony where a cold wind gusted. Would he throw her over or make her jump? The result would be the same in any case. She burst into tears and fell to her knees. When she looked up a minute later she saw Karl standing over her, pointing.

She opened his pants and took his member out. It was already stiff and hard as she put her mouth around it. She massaged it gently - the longer it took, the longer she would live. Crazed with fear, she struggled to keep her balance and clutched at him when at last he came in her.

He told her to stand. She saw the muscles in his neck tighten as he reached out to lift her. A part of her mind wondered if there would be scandal when her body was found below his master's suite tomorrow. She had been seen in his company the evening before, people would ask questions.

Perhaps the same thought occurred to Karl; he paused and said "Get out of here - now." Blindly she turned and staggered inside. Dressing hastily she ran out the door and all the way home, fearful of being followed. She was so terrified Karl would come after her and kill her there that she forgot to remove the case; the next morning she found it still inside her.

She removed it and put it aside, a memento of her adventure. Had Mr. Grant ordered Karl not to kill her? Did he like her, despite everything? Maybe he would ask her out again.

That afternoon she passed him in a corridor at the office, talking to Mr. Bradford. He gave no sign that he recognized her. Mr. Bradford looked at her and she paused. Once again he traced the outline of her lips with his finger.

Mr. Grant spoke. "You like her mouth, do you?"

"Yes, very sensitive; you should try it some time. Now run along, Anne; we have business to discuss."

She started to leave when he added "Tonight, your place, ten o'clock" before resuming his conversation. The encounter left her shaken.

That evening Anne prepared for her date with Mr. Bradford, mindful of her debacle at Mme. Byrne's. She awaited him on her knees at a quarter to ten in case he should be early. He did not arrive at the appointed time; or five or ten or fifteen minutes after the hour. Anne knelt patiently; she was at his service. If he appeared at midnight or dawn he would find her here.

At twenty minutes past ten, he walked in accompanied by his sales VP Lebrun. She poured him a Scotch and soda, and a brandy and water for the other man. While he drank it he ordered her to kneel and opened his trousers; she took his member in her mouth and was pleased to find it rising.

The two men ignored her and discussed revenue projections for the eastern division while she applied herself to him. Tears of joy streamed down her face when at last he came in her.

He pushed her head away and offered her to Lebrun, who told her to crouch on all fours and took her from behind. Her practice at Mme. Byrne's with an imaginary Great Dane came in useful here. She braced herself against the sofa as he entered and drove into her with powerful stabs until she satisfied him too.

Afterwards the two men stood over her. Lebrun liked Anne, she kept herself clean; but she was "awfully tight".

Mr. Bradford expected she was tense, she got that way with him once. "Were you tense, Anne?"

Anne thought she was.

He observed this was Lebrun's first time with her; after a few more she would relax. And he heard they were going to open her up.

There was that phrase again; Paul mentioned it on her first visit to him.

Mr. Bradford offered to show him around her apartment. Anne remained on her hands and knees while the two men visited the kitchen. They pulled open all the drawers before going into the bedroom. She heard them laugh as they inspected the drawers there too, joking about the lack of lingerie and how much cash she had.

They left without a word to her. After the door closed behind them she rose and went to the kitchen. Before she washed the men's glasses she inhaled the fragrance of beverages no longer permitted to her. She filled the water bowl in the corner and drank from it. The thought of all the little Bradfords in her stomach looking in vain for her womb made her giggle; the Lebruns in back would be disappointed too. So many useful parts of her had been idle until just a few months ago.

The drawers in her bedroom were open and the contents disarranged; they had thoroughly ransacked it though nothing seemed to be missing. They were probably just being mischievous like a couple of boys. Well that was all right, Paul hinted she would have to give up all her possessions soon. She was already used to surrendering her body to anyone who wanted it. As she lay down on her rug she reflected she had twice now performed to Mr. Bradford's satisfaction; perhaps he would forgive her for that first time.

The next day she realized the case she brought back from Mr. Grant's place was gone.

She saw Mr. Grant twice more in the next week, but again he did not know her. She never learned if her crime succeeded, or Karl undid it; or if it was all a sham, a test of her obedience.