Town and Country Ch. 08

Marc came by the next morning with apologies for the inconvenience while Anne was cleaning the apartment. She quickly knelt in a corner out of the way, darting occasional glances at the young man until they caught her at it.

The engine trouble was no one's fault, Francesca said. She accepted his invitation to tea for herself and Anne that afternoon after classes, at the apartment he shared with his mother Adele. She called Anne over and let Marc play with her breasts for a minute before he left.

A few minutes ahead of the appointed time Francesca retrieved Anne from the cellar. She rubbed smudges of dirt off her with a rag and led her outside where a large car belonging to Adele's employer picked them up. Anne sat alone and forgotten in the back seat while Francesca chatted in front with the chauffeur. At least she did not have to follow on foot, her collar attached to the back with a chain; twice she had been hitched like that to a cart at her last owner's, and again after the plowing. She reminded herself it was good for her; it left her subdued and obedient for days afterwards.

Adele was the live-in housekeeper at a training school in the city, a smaller version of the St. Agnes academy where Anne received her instruction. It was run by the aristocratic Madame Messier (no one dared to call her by her given name in her presence) and it went by no title other than hers. Madame Messier's offered a similar curriculum to the academy's in less extensive but more opulent facilities.

On their arrival at the elegant old building, Adele welcomed them nervously and said Madame had expressed a desire to meet her guests; tea would be offered not in her own apartment but in the residential quarters of the proprietress. Francesca looked thoughtful at this.

As they were shown into the salon, Madame greeted Francesca and Anne made a deep curtsey to her. She seemed to Anne a more stylish version of Gudrun, one of the trainers at the academy: a slender woman of middle age and formal bearing dressed in a dark gray, almost black suit. Anne was afraid of her at first, but attracted to her air of command.

The host and guests settled into comfortable chairs and Anne knelt close to her owner, not daring to make a sound. Attentive servants offered tea and pastries, swiftly refilling cups as they emptied. Mme. Messier gave an order. Engraved silver bowls of water and feed were placed before Anne who sampled them carefully, after looking up at Francesca for permission and on her best behavior.

Madame was proud of her well-appointed facilities and happy to describe them. To the possessions of masters who could afford the best she provided individualized training as well as auction and boarding services. She offered to show Francesca around her establishment; she had designed it herself. Francesca was invited to leave Anne behind with a servant, but she chose to include her charge in the tour.

Anne walked in front, her leash firmly held by her mistress, as they proceeded down corridors of polished stone. They inspected the sleeping cells, the gymnasium, the refectory where they watched half a dozen bound girls learn to drink water from bowls on the floor ("Novices, their first day here, just arrived from a collector in Cairo"), and other areas where the inmates were taught or chastised or sold.

They paused to look into a chamber where a brunette, naked except for irons, was suspended by her wrists. A young red-haired trainer, nude like her, attached a pair of clamps to her nipples before working her over with a riding crop.

"We are teaching her to associate punishment and pleasure," Madame explained. "In a month she will beg us to whip her every day. Then we shall neglect her. That is the hardest lesson; when she has learned to accept it, we will return her to her owner."

"The hardest lesson." Anne had to agree. She remembered the nights and weekends when her first owner was too busy to see her, dining with clients or "trying out" a girl in another city; and the desolation she felt from being confined to her apartment with her hands bound, sometimes for days. A black woman came by to refill her bowls, but otherwise she knelt by herself learning to be "unfree". She cried for hours at first but in time she submitted to Paul's decision and respected him for it.

Occasionally men who knew the secret of her unlocked door came by and used her; she treasured those brief moments of companionship.

Mme. Messier noticed Anne's stripes; she said nothing to her guests but called Adele over for whispered instructions. Adele left, returning a few minutes later. She spoke with Madame, who invited them to watch a scourging. Anne's eyes widened with alarm at the memory of her own, but Francesca said they would be pleased; the experience would be a useful reminder to her girl.

They went through a door at one end of the gym and down a flight of metal stairs; this part of the building was meant for business, not for show. In a sub-basement they passed through another door, a heavier one, into a small room with a rope suspended from the ceiling. Mme. Messier's trainer and occasional executioner greeted them; Naomi was a stocky woman of about thirty with short dark hair.

On a wall behind her was a display; twenty or more hanks of hair, all different colors, each tied with a black ribbon. Some were paired with a nest of curly dark hairs beneath them, and beside each a girl's name and a date. Below the collection, a peg on which a garrote hung.

Anne recognized the model; it was made of braided leather strips around a core of steel wire, one of Edward's most popular designs. A young man newly arrived in town last year, skilled in leatherworking but without funds or a home, she took him in and persuaded her firm to set him up in business.

He used her as a model for his garottes now and then. That was exciting, she remembered. He would tighten it just enough to persuade her he might really do it this time; potential customers loved that. So did she.

Naomi shook hands with Francesca; then, holding Anne's chin up with one hand she lifted the collar and examined her neck while the others looked on. Anne grew nervous but also a little wet. She felt her nipples respond and saw them watching her; they had noticed. Her body always betrayed her at these times, she could not hide her responses.

Madame and Francesca stood back along a wall with Anne kneeling between them to await the proceedings. Someone began to stroke her hair; she looked up to find Mme. Messier staring down at her and smiling. Anne smiled back as she was trained and Madame continued to pet her. She liked the older woman.

A minute later, the door opened and a girl with pink unmarked skin appeared on a leash followed by her owner. Mrs. Bates introduced herself and Rose to the guests; Rose looked agitated and apprehensive, but she curtseyed to them and tried to appear calm.

Unlike her thin ascetic owner, Rose was well-fed. Her face was full; her breasts were large and stood out nicely above a rounded belly. In back, her ivory thighs were topped by a generous derriere. Mrs. Bates said she had just fattened Rose up for sale to a Russian group with "special interests".

The formalities over, Naomi briskly suspended Rose by her wrists from the ceiling and spread her legs apart. She stuffed a ball of cloth in Rose's mouth and secured it with a gag. Anne started and looked away when she held up a device that resembled a small narrow rake with sharpened teeth.

She asked Rose if she was ready. Rose looked in vain for some sign of pity from her owner. Naomi stood motionless, the scourge in her hand. Rose shut her eyes, began to cry, and nodded yes.

Francesca and Mrs. Bates watched impassively as Naomi set to work; but Anne was overcome by the sight, so like her own experience. She saw herself in Rose's place, screaming soundlessly through the gag, squirming and writhing in useless efforts to escape the scourge as Naomi drew curving ribbons of thin lines on her.

Mme. Messier's hand moved down to pet Anne's neck and massage her tense shoulders. Anne was comforted by these attentions and warmed to her as a kind and caring person, someone she could trust. Anne straightened to present her breasts. Madame took the hint and gently stroked them. Soon Anne was completely in her power. Madame was wise, Madame was good, she would do anything Madame required of her.

Francesca appeared not to notice, but when Anne turned her head she said sharply "Pay attention." Mrs. Bates merely observed Naomi's work with a critical eye, showing no interest in the seduction taking place at her side.

After about a quarter of an hour, Naomi paused to admire her creation. Mrs. Bates pointed out where she wanted a denser pattern scored into Rose and Naomi obliged her.

Finally she set down the scourge and they waited for Rose's hysterics to stop. After five minutes Naomi was able to remove the gag and hold up her hands for Rose to kiss. Rose gazed adoringly at her. Anne knew that look; Rose had a crush on Naomi, just as Anne had on Chloe who did her at the brothel. Funny how that worked. She felt the attraction growing in herself now.

At a word from her employer, Naomi held her hands in front of Anne as well; still kneeling, Anne kissed each of them in turn. She leaned forward and kissed them again more slowly, caressing them with her lips. She could not help it, she was drawn to the masterful trainer like a moth to a flame. Madame beamed approvingly and continued to pet Anne who smiled in gratitude; she was glad Francesca brought her here.

The audience moved forward to inspect the swirls that covered Rose from neck to knees while Naomi dried her tear-stained face with a towel. Mrs. Bates congratulated Naomi on her work. Rose was more appealing now and far more approachable, she looked too virginal before. Francesca said nothing.

Anne felt that Chloe's work was superior - more artistic in some way she could not define - but no one asked her opinion and she did not dare to offer it.

Of course, her experience was different; she had come to Chloe after a night of crawling half naked through brambles and falling into a gully that left her scratched and bruised. Naomi had to work on a blank form without inspiration from nature. What could Naomi do with her stripes, she wondered; they might spur the trainer's creativity...

At a brief command from her owner Anne kissed Rose on the cheek. Rose smiled back with such a look of blessed contentment that Anne knew she was at peace in her new life. They shared a moment of sisterly communion, their breasts and bellies touching, until Francesca coughed and recalled them to the present.

Naomi released Rose from the ceiling rope. Mrs. Bates bound her and attached the leash to lead her away. Mme. Messier spoke.

"You are taking her back in your car? You will want to put something under her. For the upholstery."

"I brought the canvas."

"That will do nicely." Mrs. Bates led Rose, who cast a final backward glance at the trainer, out the door.

Mme. Messier turned to Francesca. "I believe Naomi has an hour free before her next appointment. If you would like her to do your girl while we continue the tour--?"

Anne looked hopefully at Francesca and breathed a sigh of disappointment when her owner declined.

"Very well then, let us return to my apartment."

Back in Madame's suite, she made Francesca an offer. As a friend of Adele's son, Francesca was welcome to leave Anne with her at no charge if she desired to go away for a weekend or sought some time alone. Francesca thanked her for her hospitality but had no immediate need of it. The hostess called for her car to bring them home, repeating her offer to board Anne any time Francesca wished.

Anne was grateful for the ride since the evening had turned cold. And for the warmth of her owner who sat close to her in back this time.

That evening as she sat at Francesca's feet after dinner she commented on Mme. Messier's generosity. With a wry face Francesca replied "Yes, quite; Sir Nigel must really want you, little one. He's even trying strategy, not his favorite approach or one he's very good at."

"Sir Nigel, ma'am?"

"He hoped to use Delphine as a trap today. She tried to separate us, did you notice? First she offered me a tour of the place and suggested I leave you behind; when that didn't work she invited me to leave you with Naomi, or board you there some weekend. Once she got you away from me I doubt I would ever see you again.

"She planned to use our visit - Adele must have told her, or she overheard Marc talking with his mother - to get you alone. Then one of her servants or Nigel's would come for you on some pretext and you'd be his. I don't think Marc knew anything about it; the invitation was probably sincere. And his mother was just following orders without knowing their purpose, though I think she suspected something. She seemed quite anxious when we were there."

"Can Sir Nigel do that, ma'am? And why would Madame Messier help him?"

"One question at a time. He couldn't do it legally, but there's no way I could fight him once you were in his control. And Delphine's motives come down to one word: money. She charges a great deal but she spends more. Those engraved silver bowls don't come cheap. Rumor has it she's deeply in debt, and guess who holds her debts. If he offered to forgive them for looking the other way while he kidnapped a nobody, she'd jump at the chance."

"Am I a nobody, ma'am?"

"Not to me, little one; but the people in charge of finding you wouldn't worry much about your disappearance, especially if they were paid to ignore it."

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you for spotting it; I would never have guessed."

Francesca said "I didn't just do it for you," and kissed her on the forehead. Anne's heart skipped a beat.

"But I see you're up to your old tricks. It took less than a minute for Delphine to win you over, and I heard you sigh when I wouldn't leave you alone with Naomi. Do you know where you'd be now if I had?"

Anne hung her head in shame.

"Sometimes I think you forget who you belong to. It's a good thing I don't. Here."

She looked up to see her owner holding a cookie treat of pressed feed for her and stuck out her tongue.

Later, Anne expressed surprise that no preparations had been made for Cecile's return from the academy.

"She's not coming back, little one. Her sister doesn't know it yet, but Jules sold her to a brothel in Hamburg. A trainer told me when we visited her that day."

"Oh. Thank you, ma'am." Silently she blessed her own good fortune.

For the next several nights, Naomi filled her dreams. She felt the beefy trainer hang her up and roll a cloth into a ball. The taste of it filled her mouth as Naomi tied it in place, turned and picked up the scourge. She found herself agreeing to the procedure before she was asked, and the audience laughing at her eagerness.