The Summer of Francesca Ch. 21

At first Anne was afraid of Gudrun, who had ended the lives of so many girls at St. Agnes over the years. But she realized after a week or two that others - Paul or the academy - would actually decide if she was to be terminated.

Stifling her fear she made a conscious effort when it was Gudrun's day to use the whip, to show her gratitude and respect. At first Gudrun reacted badly, suspecting Anne of flattery or even derision; but when she realized Anne was sincere her response was astonishing.

The academy's executioner was a shy, withdrawn woman. Lacking influence at St. Agnes, she was given a job that made her an object of horror to the inmates. Even some of her fellow trainers held her in disdain. On finding a girl actually liked her she began to show warmth and affection. She visited Anne hanging alone on the frame in the afternoons; sometimes she brought an easel and a set of watercolors, and sketched Anne's pale figure amid the greenery. Afterwards she gave Anne a cookie and held a water bottle up to her.

Sometimes when Anne was suspended all day she arranged to provide the midday bowl of paste. If no one else was around she mixed a little milk and vanilla sugar in before spooning it into Anne's open mouth. The taste of it after weeks of eating flavorless mush was ecstasy. At the end of the meal she wiped Anne's lips and let Anne kiss her hands.

On execution days she was often tense and sad afterwards, especially if it was a girl she liked; making love to another one eased the stress. The other girls feared these encounters, but Anne welcomed the opportunity. She had Anne brought to her cottage in the evening and took her in a variety of ways, some quite grueling; she was ardent and she failed to appreciate her own strength.

Once, frustrated and angry from some event at work she took it out on Anne. Afterwards she was remorseful and almost apologized, but Anne said she was grateful for it and happy to help her friend unwind. Besides, Paul told her she was more attractive covered with bruises. Gudrun nodded and told her to lie on her back.

When Anne had recovered from their physical exertions they talked long into the night. Anne had no secrets any more; between the disclosures in her book, her constant nakedness and her daily beatings she could conceal nothing; and Gudrun longed to share her life with someone. Evening after evening Anne would sit on a folded towel (for the wetness) or kneel at her feet and listen to her, or share her own feelings without reserve.

It turned out they grew up not far from one another, though years apart. They spoke of girlhood memories exploring woods and streams of the region and the old village school. Anne soon grew quite fond of the older woman who poured her heart out to her.

Once after several weeks Gudrun said in a low voice as though wary of being overheard that if she were ever ordered to strangle Anne, she would do it in the swiftest and least painful manner she could. Anne was touched and thanked her from the bottom of her heart.

In return she promised to cooperate and give her executioner no trouble. To her surprise the woman threw her arms around Anne, who felt tears falling on her shoulder. She also felt a lump in her throat as her own eyes misted over. These must be the strangest gifts ever, Anne thought; she promises to kill me quickly and I promise to help her. But it's all we have.

She told that to Gudrun, who laughed aloud for the first time in years.

Many people noticed the change in Gudrun over the next few weeks; "blossomed" was the word they used.

Their sessions on the frame underwent a subtle but unmistakable change. Gudrun became more attentive and solicitous of her friend, though still rigorous in following the lesson plan, and Anne learned faster and in greater depth as she gained insight into the mind of her trainer.

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

After Francesca disposed her charge on the floor for sleep, she bent over Anne and kissed her on the forehead before leaving. Anne reveled in this scrap of affection; sincere or feigned it was the only example she had received that day, unless she were to count the men's brutal assaults on the openings of her body. Oh, and the hug; that made two; she was really quite fortunate after all. Counting her blessings, she dropped off to sleep.

The next several days at Mr. Schuyler's continued in the pattern set by the last few. After breakfast, calisthenics were followed by exercises with the inserts and heels-up lashings, each one more severe than the last. Anne thought she would be unable to bear them but each time she managed somehow; she had no choice, unless she wanted to display the emotional instability that would result in her termination.

Afterwards she was given to Mr. Schuyler's friends in the library, or continued her exercises. In the evening after she was bathed, fed, and watered, Francesca's little Scheherazade had another of several (though not a thousand and one) stories for her.

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

Anne was sent to the cellar at St. Agnes once. At the end of a hard day of workouts, weary under the academy's sternest taskmaster, when he ordered her to perform a difficult exercise she asked him if she could postpone it until tomorrow. He took that as a refusal.

Formerly a storage vault for vegetables when the academy's grounds had been a farm, the cellar was a round stone-walled underground structure with a low ceiling. Anne was thrust in, her hands bound behind her, and the door shut. By the light of a dingy bulb that never went out, she saw a shelf with bowls holding water and feed pellets, and a sandbox on the opposite side. She crawled on her knees over to the bowls and lapped some water. She slept for a while, no telling how long, on the muddy earthen floor.

Later after using the sandbox she went in search of food. When she had satisfied herself, she began to wonder what would happen to her. She had disobeyed an order, and her fate was in their hands.

Too late now, she recalled her promises to Paul when she gave herself to him; her obligations to the syndicate that owned her and sent her here for schooling; the efforts of the trainers to prepare her for sale. In return all they asked was her obedience and she had withheld it.

She should have known old Gaston required immediate compliance with all his commands. She was too occupied with herself and her own wants to attend to her masters. Tearfully on her knees in the empty space she begged forgiveness and promised to do better if she was spared.

After an unknown length of time, three or four days she guessed later, she heard a creaking sound. A small door she had never noticed before opened. A finger beckoned her to enter it. She was never so glad to see the old trainer in all her life as when she wriggled on her belly through the trapdoor into the light. She wept and thanked him.

He opened his trousers and she took him in her mouth, putting all her soul into pleasing him until he came in her.

She looked up exhausted and mud-caked to see two women standing beside him. One was her former secretary Debbie, wearing sensible walking shoes this time. Alice with gray hair cut short like a man's was private secretary to the head of the firm; she had on a pair of brogues.

She kissed the ground at Debbie's feet; Alice said "Over here" and Anne kissed the ground before hers too.

The three resumed their conversation. Gaston invited Alice to take tea with him and view some new girls who had just been admitted to the academy. Debbie was going to lead Anne on a circuit of the grounds, after which "Gudrun will be waiting for her".

Those words struck a chill into Anne. So it was that bad; she was to be strangled. Gaston attached her leash and handed the end to Debbie along with a short-handled crop. Anne prepared to stand, but Debbie explained she was to go on her hands and knees. Well, at least that would take longer.

Gaston opened the door for them and Anne crawled outside onto a paved pathway. She was careful not to scrape her skin on the rough surface; she wanted to be as attractive as possible at her execution.

Inside the high perimeter wall ran a path covered with gravel; Anne tried to put her weight on her hands to spare her knees from the sharp stones.

After a quarter hour they reached a creek with a wooden bridge over it; Debbie took the bridge but made Anne crawl through the water. It was frigid and running high; Anne struggled against the current. When she emerged on the other side, most of the mud was washed off her breasts and belly as well as her legs. She was shivering with cold but glad to be a little cleaner.

They entered a forest; the path wound through leaves and duff from the trees. Anne took delight in its softness and the woodsy fragrance around her.

Too much delight; Debbie struck her behind with the crop and told her to keep moving. Thinking only of herself again, even in her last hour; how hard it was to obey.

Just past the woods was the back driveway; they waited until a van stopped to let them cross. The parking lot behind the kitchen was filled with catering trucks. The academy rented the great lawn out for weddings and other events, and sometimes inmates were picked to serve at a boy's coming-of-age ceremony. Anne smiled when she remembered Ernest at Madame Byrne's.

Drivers and kitchen staff watched as Anne crawled across the lot, spurred with an occasional flick of the crop. The odor of food cooking for the party distracted her; Debbie gave her a kick to get her attention.

They went around the lawn where tents had been erected and a crowd milled about. At the far end was the frame; Gudrun stood there and Anne prepared herself for the end.

But to her surprise the trainer had no garrote, just her tool case. This was merely Gudrun's day to exercise her. She sighed with relief; her head swam and she nearly fainted.

Gudrun gave her a cookie and Debbie strung her up on the frame. Wedding guests in formal clothes gathered to watch; they sipped champagne from crystal glasses as Gudrun applied the whip and put her through her paces, bringing her to climaxes of ecstasy again and again.

Anne made a special effort to perform for her friend and the crowd. She did so well that Gudrun later noted in her book "good before audience" as a special talent.

The newlyweds stood at the head of the crowd; they applauded with the others and whispered between themselves. The bride dressed in her long white gown kissed Anne's nipples (which excited her) and pasted a gold star next to Chloe's monogram; she had picked up some ideas to enliven her wedding night.

Debbie helped Gudrun lower Anne from the frame; she attached the leash and Gudrun invited her to lead Anne back to her cell. Anne was grateful to be allowed back on her feet; she did not expect to be alive now, much less able to walk.

Again Debbie guided her with a sure hand; she seemed to know what she was doing. Either she had experience with this or she was a natural. In either case it was good to be under her control. She heard the two women behind her discussing something but she could not make out the details.

Back in her cell (how happy she was to see it again), Anne stood while Debbie attached her collar to the ceiling tether and Gudrun filled her water bowl. Her former secretary inspected Anne's new home: its gray stone walls and floor, the opening where she squatted and the sink she was bent over afterwards. Debbie took the garrote off its peg and played with it for a moment. Gudrun said "There is one in every cell. It is good for them to be reminded. Some of the girls like to wear them overnight, and we indulge them."

"Does Anne?"

"She is not permitted to have opinions of her own. Curing her of them has been our hardest task, and it is far from complete."

They left and Anne was alone until the next morning. She heard the distant sounds of the wedding party until late that evening; it sounded like a high-spirited gathering.

She had lost track of time since she came here. She used to be very precise; she wore a wristwatch and kept it accurate to the minute. Now she did not know what day it was or how long she had been here. How odd that with so little time left to her, she thought less about it. Only the present existed for her.

Still, she wondered about her future. Paul would sell her to a brothel or a "collector"; how long would she last? At the brothel, while she made money for them. As she wore out she might be sold down to a lower-class establishment, no telling how soon that would happen or when she would reach the end of the line; a year or two maybe. With a rich private owner she would be at his mercy; discarded when he tired of her, put to pasture if he was kind or terminated if not. That could happen in weeks or months.

She tried to face the prospect calmly. Then she remembered her feelings when she thought Gudrun was going to strangle her. Despite everything, she wanted to live; but that was not up to her and she felt it would not be for long.

The gold star on her breast lasted for a week; Anne was sorry to see it fall off. By then the bride was pregnant with twins, though she did not know it until some time later.

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

Sometimes they left Anne outside at night for reasons they never explained; an attendant tied her leash to a post on a grassy slope and left her there till morning. Twice a thunderstorm passed through after midnight. The first time she huddled tightly around her post against the rain and wind. Lightning struck high places nearby and terrified her (she had a great fear of it since childhood), keeping her awake till sunrise when an attendant brought her paste and led her to obedience training.

On the second, the temperature dropped as the storm hit; she clung shivering to the post while raindrops stung her like needles, thunder roared, and the branches swayed and groaned overhead. Just when she thought she could bear no more and would not last the night, she saw a light approaching. It was Gudrun in a hooded raincoat; she released Anne from the post and led her back to her cell, where she dried Anne off with a towel before enjoining her to silence and retreating.

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

If Catherine had lived in an earlier century, she might have been a legendary courtesan, one of the grandes horizontales of the Second Empire entertaining kings and duchesses in bed. She was long-legged and healthy with honey-colored hair and well tanned golden skin unmarked by the whip. ("I came up to her chin," said Anne. "But she stood straighter. I always admired her poise.")

Her master was a wealthy industrialist and a co-founder of the academy; it deferred to his wishes and she was exempted from whipping and from obedience training, which was probably a mistake. From time to time he went abroad to inspect his businesses overseas and sent her here to improve her performance. For that, she invited Anne from time to time to her room.

Being constantly bound, Anne learned to make love without the use of her hands and was able to show Catherine some tricks while learning several herself. Anne was attracted to her round firm breasts and the tender skin on the inside of her bronzed thighs.

They became close friends despite Catherine's superior attitude. Catherine even told Anne how she planned to use her owner to advance herself. In her good fortune, she forgot how slender was its support.

One day some bad news arrived; her master had been killed when his plane crashed in the Indonesian jungle. A week later brought worse tidings. He had planned to amend his will to leave his fortune to her but never got around to it. Therefore an earlier will applied.

It was drafted shortly after his return from India, where he learned about the old tradition of suttee; if no new owner could be found for Catherine within a month she was to be sacrificed on a burning funeral pyre. His widow, jealous of her rival, insisted on enforcing the provision.

This was the ideal time for Catherine to maintain her appearance and market herself to potential buyers, but the twin blows so undermined her self-assurance that she went into a funk. Her failure to care for her appearance was aggravated by the academy's decision to end her exemption from the rules; her long hair and painted nails were cut short, her hands were bound for much of the day, and she was no longer free from daily whippings, obedience training, or punishment.

She became a tarnished trophy and the academy was unable to arrange a placement for her. That meant her last hope was for a public sale.

The auction room at St. Agnes Academy was the barn of the old farm, painted and remodeled. On the morning of a sale the entire herd of inmates was rounded up and joined together by their leashes. They were led out to the sandbox then hosed down. After they dried, the women to be offered were taken away and the remainder tied in the back of the room where the milking stalls had been. On hot days they gave off a collective odor reminiscent of the building's earlier use. Each was on her best behavior as she stood to watch the proceedings, because they were also being watched and each knew she might be offered on another day.

The audience sat in chairs in the middle third of the room; they were mostly syndicate agents like Paul and prospective buyers like Mr. Schuyler. In the front was a lectern for the auctioneer and a podium for the girl. Behind them the others to be offered that day stood against the wall, their leash held by an attendant and their book on a table before them. Audience members reviewed the books and the merchandise for an hour or so. Then the auctioneer led the first girl to the podium and the bidding began.

Catherine was the last of three inmates for sale that day and the best known. The first two went for the expected price but no one knew what Catherine would bring. To the audience's surprise, the answer was nothing; her difficult personality and unkempt appearance kept everyone away. Catherine would have to be burnt; she burst into tears.

Finally Sir Nigel stood up and offered a token amount, about the cost of a pack of gum. With no competition, he won her. Nearly everyone rejoiced in the outcome; but Anne's heart swelled with pity for the bird who once flew so high and now lay on the ground.

She visited Catherine from time to time in the week before Sir Nigel took her away. Catherine had regained some of her old spirit and talked hopefully of avoiding the universal fate of his women: used for a few weeks, then put down. She spoke of persuading him to spare her, make her a long-term concubine, even marry her. Anne reassured her though it ran counter to all she knew about his habits.

Less than a month later Gudrun mentioned to Anne that she had been over to Sir Nigel's "on business", that Catherine's plan had failed and the golden girl should be referred to in the past tense. "She took it fairly well," was all she would say.