The Summer of Francesca Ch. 20

At lunch time she was placed at a table with a food and a water bowl. She learned to kneel gracefully with her hands bound and rise again, decorously select pellets or be fed paste by others, and to drink without slurping.

Once as punishment for some error they took away her feed bowl before she had any; she began to cry and was told that meant no dinner either. She remained after the others rose from the table; an attendant stood by and watched until she regained her composure.

Francis was to train her that afternoon; he arrived early and viewed the scene. He said nothing, but on the path to the frame he stopped and gave her a cookie. Anne melted with gratitude. She knelt and touched the ground with her forehead in appreciation of this small mercy, and at her lesson she yielded herself to him at once.

She practiced the language of the leash that Paul showed her: to kneel when it was draped on her shoulders, to rise again when it was shaken, and to stand still as it was coiled around her neck or waist for storage.

She also had to attract her teachers physically by touch or look. This was a skill practiced by the meanest streetwalker, but she had to learn it.

With some men this was difficult. The one who garroted her was resistant to her charms but she abased herself to him, leaned her head on his thigh and humbly sought his opinion of her, until he mellowed. He even used her after one session and gave her a passing grade. Francis was both kinder and more demanding, but in time he certified her as well. She used those skills at Mr. Schuyler's many times when her owner offered her to his clients.

At the end of a lesson the trainer updated her performance chart before giving Anne her paste. The notes all went into her book, which grew quite large; Anne wondered if the academy still had it.

"It came with you to Mr. Schuyler's, Anne; I read it over."

"Oh; then you know about when I was nineteen. I was younger then, I hope you don't think - I - oh, I'm so -."

Francesca patted her on the head. "You were telling me about your day."

Anne resumed her story. The women trainers were good but most were brisk and cold; and they knew a girl's most sensitive places. Anne felt it for hours afterwards. The thought of the garrote hung over her whenever Gudrun did her though the woman was gentle and understanding, one of the best.

Some afternoons the girls were set loose to clean the grounds. They swept the walks and picked leaves and litter from the yard under the eye of a trainer until sundown. Those like Anne who were selected for use by club members that evening were led off to be bathed; the losers were taken to their cells dusty and sweaty for the night.

An attendant chained Anne outside to a marble bench in good weather or by a parlor couch on wet days. She was popular with the club members and her evenings were busy. At the end he led her back to her cell and gave her dinner. She was very hungry by then and thanked him, and sometimes he took her too.

As a child Anne was taught to say her prayers before going to bed. She hadn't done that for years, but at the academy she started again. She knelt and silently honored the work of the trainers and attendants to make her a better person. Then she lay down on the stone floor and disposed herself for sleep.

It was a difficult life but a rewarding one. She learned to please others and to value the smallest kindness she was shown.

Once again she felt the gentle pinching of her nipples and was quiet. They continued in a companionable silence for a while longer until Francesca stirred and said "Lie down now". With her hands bound behind her, Anne obediently toppled over on her side. To her astonishment Francesca planted a kiss on her cheek before leaving. Anne remained awake for some time with the memory of it.

Shortly before dawn she woke and could not return to sleep. She reflected on how meaningless her former existence seemed to her now.

She thanked her owners for this new life which she could never have undertaken alone. After giving up her career, her freedom and her body, she was living a dream. It would not last much longer, but she celebrated it. Thinking on this she drifted off again.

An hour or so after sunrise, Francesca woke Anne. She was wearing a black exercise outfit of some elastic material that showed her muscular body.

She pointed to the latrine. Afterwards she said Anne showed signs of improvement; Mr. Schuyler and Carol were asking about it. Anne's most intimate functions had become a topic of conversation in the household.

Francesca described with pride the results of her dinner with Georges. He owned a business that needed graduates in her field and spoke of opportunities for her there. Anne was nearly as happy at the news as she was.

The reason for Francesca's outfit soon became apparent when she took Anne outside and led her in a series of exercises. After a brief pause, she trussed Anne up and resumed her practice with various crops. She struck harder than the day before but Anne was better prepared and managed to cry out less though her tears flowed as before.

Then Francesca inserted the devices. She took the handle that protruded from Anne's rear and simulated the movements of a man. After several minutes of this Francesca left her to exercise until noon. Anne's lunch was a repetition of yesterday's, though Francesca varied it by dropping pellets into her open mouth one by one.

Just then her current and former owners appeared. Paul casually gave the device a twist and she yelped.

He continued to grasp the handle and she was reminded of their first date, if you could call it that. Bent over a leather chair after Eugene took her she did not know who he was; he merely pulled her cheeks apart and had her to see if she was worth acquiring for sale.

Anne felt his presence within her now as he spoke.

"Do you think she's tightening up again?"

Francesca made no comment.

"I have some larger ones if you need any; let me know. Now about picking up the pace; we want you to stress her more each day as much as she can handle."

"No problem."

"And I believe I would like to see" - Mr. Schuyler spoke - "some visible marks on her. Not permanent, just lasting a week or so, but renewed to maintain an appearance for my friends."

"Certainly, sir. Would you prefer a concentration in a single area, or a scattered random look all over? And a combination of the lash and the crop?"

"A scattered look, I think; nothing to suggest planning or pattern, just a casual effect; and a mix of wide and narrow as you suggest."

Paul whispered to him. "And some bruises here and there."

"I will begin this afternoon; you may judge the results for yourself and tell me if they're what you have in mind."

"Excellent; I shall look forward to it." The two left Francesca to calm her frightened charge and assure her she would be able to bear it.

After a few minutes' rest, Francesca released the ropes and Anne lay panting on the ground. A young servant joined them; she must be Denise, a recent purchase of Mr. Schuyler's. Anne looked up at her. She wore the same collar and bracelets, could she be Anne's replacement? She was dressed in brief shorts and a thin transparent blouse; Anne grew attracted to her though without hope of success. Denise told her to stand and Francesca strung her up to the corners of the frame for her beating.

Mr. Schuyler emerged from his office with four men Anne did not recognize. They took their places in the audience and Francesca exercised Anne with a short whip and a single crop. She proceeded with youthful intensity to produce the requested marks. Anne could not restrain her cries as she was worked over, which the men found entertaining.

Francesca slapped Anne to quiet her. Mr. Schuyler led the group to the courtyard by the library, where the men used her above and below while Francesca held the end of her leash. Afterwards they proceeded to business indoors and Francesca rewarded her with a cookie of pressed feed. It was like the ones Paul gave her when she learned a new trick but enriched with the white powder Francesca dusted on her pellets.

Her mistress thought of everything; how lucky Anne was to have such a trainer. Still on her knees, she looked up hopefully for a second cookie; Francesca smiled and placed one on her tongue.

Rising on command, Anne followed Francesca back to her cell for bathing. Still in her exercise suit Francesca entered the alcove with Anne to scrub her down and rinse her out. Anne was grateful for the care Francesca took, though her welts and abraded passages stung regardless. Francesca cheered her up with the news that Mr. Schuyler was "quite satisfied" with Anne's performance (though he considered her merely a sort of living canvas for Francesca's artistry); Anne brightened a little at this.

Mr. Schuyler had invited Francesca to take a glass of wine and to dine with him that evening. As a rule she drank very little but in this case a glass with her benefactor was plainly called for, so she left Anne early to dress. She returned after dinner, brushing Anne's hair and chatting with her.

The afternoon had gone well with the four men who were potential associates of Mr. Schuyler, so she might expect to see them again. He was pleased with Francesca's reports of Anne's progress, though Francesca suspected he was considering some sort of test. He might also host a display of Francesca's skills for his friends, although no date for either event had been fixed yet. Francesca asked her little Scheherazade if she had another installment of her Arabian Nights to tell.

"Yes ma'am, I do." Bridget was a pretty brunette with a strong rebellious steak. She had a nice figure, her breasts were large and she was good with her tongue if she liked you. She liked Anne a lot - Francesca smiled at this - but she was very disobedient.

Eventually she exhausted their patience and they decided to make an example of her. Twice a week the herd was gathered to "witness punishment" in an old courtyard surrounded by stone walls. Anne was chosen a few times for talking or not obeying fast enough; she was publicly whipped and sent to watch the next girl. But this was different.

They led Bridget out with a garrote around her neck and Gudrun put a black bag over her head; that broke her. They removed her garrote. Then -

"I'd rather not say what they did next."

"That's all right, Anne; you don't have to."

"Oh, it was horrible." Anne burst into tears.

Francesca knelt down and hugged her tightly without a word until she stopped shaking, and dried her eyes.

"But from then on she was the meekest, the most obedient girl there. She came around to each of us a week later and apologized if anyone suffered on account of her; I thought that was very nice. Later her master decided he didn't want her like that after all and Sir Nigel took her away."

Sometimes a girl's owner had her branded for identification or punishment. A single trainer specialized in this. Anne witnessed the scene many times and the sight haunted her in the evenings.

She did not want to undergo the ordeal, of course not, and yet... Regularly in her imagination she found herself bent over and tied down to the block. She saw attendants build a fire in the stone ring nearby. She watched Karen hold the branding iron in the flames until it glowed, then lift it from the coals and walk behind her. She felt Karen apply it to one side of her rear; her flesh sizzled and burned while another trainer counted off the seconds. Karen withdrew the iron, replaced it in the fire while she waited and time stood still, and returned with it to repeat the process on the other side.

Or if she was to be branded on the belly, how she was led out and strapped to the block facing upwards. She heard the fire being stoked, the brand placed in it, and looked up as Karen straddled her and held it above her before plunging it down.

When an owner wanted a girl branded both "fore and aft" the academy gave her a week to recover between the two ordeals, during which she was an object of sympathy from the others almost as much as those who had been set down for termination. (Condemned inmates wore a black ribbon around their necks as a mark of their status. Cruelly nicknamed "dying swans" by some club members, they were sought out by those who found them pliable in the despair of their last days; and occasionally a girl would be reprieved for a week or two.)

Some girls were proud of these marks of ownership and showed them off. Anne viewed them with a touch of envy. She wondered if Paul had a brand, and what she would look like wearing it. Some of the designs were quite artistic, she almost wished... She shook her head to clear her mind of the thought. It was for him, or her next owner to decide. But she looked forward to the days when Karen came to train her and dreamed of her at night.

One afternoon Karen visited her in her cell. Anne felt like a hostess entertaining an honored guest. She wished she could provide tea, but all she could offer Karen was herself. Karen was in her mid-twenties about Anne's age, of medium height with light brown hair; her arms were strong and with her clothes off she displayed powerful legs and a flat athletic belly.

She had brought a running iron; she bent Anne over the counter and drew patterns on her haunches with the cold instrument until the two could stand it no longer and made love on the floor.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Anne resumed describing her day. The marble bench she was tied to was in the center of a lovely rose garden. Butterflies sometimes paused on the bench, and once a hummingbird flew past her.

Club members used her as a form of pre-dinner exercise or an aid to digestion afterwards. Some brought her to a private room; others simply took her on the bench in the garden.

Paul had her assigned to him overnight when he visited. He hung her up in his room and viewed her for a while, but temptation usually got the better of him and he lowered her to the ground and had her.

Others needed her to be tied up and whipped first; she quickly gained a reputation and became a favorite of theirs. Claude whom she knew from her lessons at Paul's had her marked with the crop first; after he took her she sat at his feet and they talked.

And there was Frank; he came by often. He said her cute little behind was like a package waiting to be opened. He had attendants wash her out before he used her; that was probably the cause of Mr. Schuyler's later displeasure. Anne hoped Francesca's powder was working; she was fearful of what would happen to her if she did not improve.

"I think he's pleased, Anne; I'll review it with him tomorrow."

Some attendants enjoyed the task and lingered over it. Others hated it, which was worse; they rushed through it and left her sore. Sometimes that made her cry when Frank was in her; he took that as a tribute. Afterwards he sat Anne on his lap and played with her breasts.

If none of the members wanted her they let the staff have their pick. She hoped Francis would use her but he never did; she supposed she was just a job to him. The women trainers often asked for her, even the one with the gray hair who frightened her.

The attendants were last in line. Some of them were shy, almost bashful, but they overcame that after they had her a few times.