Extreme Love II: Town and Country
A sequel to The Summer of Francesca
“Sweet are the uses of adversity.” – Shakespeare
They drove for a few minutes in silence with Francesca behind the wheel and Anne strapped in next to her, still naked and bound as when she left Mr. Schuyler’s estate. She arranged her hands behind her into a comfortable position, and as the journey settled into a routine she plucked up the courage to speak to her new owner. Francesca was twenty-two to Anne’s twenty-five; she was taller than Anne and more athletically built, with blond hair somewhat longer than Anne’s brown. Anne worshiped her.
“What are you going to do with me, ma’am?”
“I have no idea, Anne. I just couldn’t stand to see you given to Sir Nigel. Mr. Schuyler had to get rid of you today; he bought your replacement weeks ago and she’ll be delivered this evening from St. Agnes Academy.”
“Given to Sir Nigel, ma’am? I saw the garrote on my owner’s – I mean my former owner’s – desk yesterday and I thought he was going to put me down.”
“That wasn’t for you; it was for training the new girl. Lise; did you know her?”
Anne knew her; she arrived at the academy a few days after Anne, a slim brunette who had chosen the same life as her own. Her lover, an airline stewardess she met a month earlier, sold her to a syndicate to be trained and auctioned off.
Uncertain of what awaited her and both eager for and terrified of her first whipping just like Anne, she was spread outdoors for viewing on her first day when a trainer led Anne past on the leash attached to her steel collar. He let her speak with Lise briefly to offer words of comfort. The two became friends, chatting and exchanging bits of gossip when they were chained together.
Lise’s androgynous figure appealed to Anne. Her breasts were small with sharply pointed nipples. Her slender legs exposed the delicate insides of her thighs. Her buttocks were small too, almost like a boy’s; Anne could not say why she found them so attractive. She wanted to hold them in her hands, but she never got the chance.
“Mr. S picked her up at the auction; I don’t think anyone else bid on her. He likes a bargain.”
She would make a good addition to his household; Anne expressed the hope she would also escape the fate of being given to Sir Nigel when he was done with her. The garrote was quicker and more merciful.
“I think he wanted to keep you away from Sir Nigel too; they’re friends but I suspect he disapproves of what goes on at Barbary.”
“What is that, ma’am?”
“Sir Nigel’s estate; he sees himself as a corsair. Wild and free, beyond the law. What he wants, he takes. Anyway, now I have to figure out what to do with you.”
Anne looked downcast at this and Francesca added, “That wasn’t my only reason, you’re not just a stray kitten. I’d like to keep you but I don’t see how I can afford it.” These were the strongest words of affection Anne ever heard from her and she treasured them. Francesca reached over and patted her bare thigh, which comforted her; and was a bit stimulating, she had to admit.
After thinking for a long moment Francesca added, “In the basement there’s a place you can stay. It used to be the coal bin; it’s near the furnace so you should be all right this winter and I can take you up the back stairs to my apartment now and then.”
“Is there a window, ma’am?”
“Yes, there are two; why?”
“I was thinking of the time they put me in the cellar at the academy; I was being punished for something, so that was only natural. But it was hard on me.”
“You need discipline, Anne, you know that. You have to stop thinking of yourself and forgetting the rules.”
“Yes ma’am, I do.”
“Well, not to worry; there are windows and a street light outside so you’ll be able to find your way around. You won’t have much room, but you can see where you are. I can arrange to use it and get feed for you, but it’ll cost. I’m on a tight budget even for a grad student.”
“I could go out on the streets, ma’am. I did for my first owner.”
“Dressed like that?” Francesca joked.
“This was before I signed the papers, ma’am, back when they let me wear clothes.”
“No. You’re not a whore whatever they told you at the academy, and I’m not keeping one.”
“Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”
“Can you cook?”
“Yes I can, ma’am; and I can clean your room for you; I’ll need to use my hands sometimes though.”
“That’s a help. I think we can even let you wear an apron when you’re at the stove. Your hide has been through enough already.” Anne’s skin was crisscrossed with pale lines that testified to numberless beatings with whip and crop.
“Oh thank you ma’am, I’m looking forward to this.”
Eventually they reached Francesca’s apartment building. She drove the car around to the back lot and carried her suitcases inside. Anne waited to be released.
Anne was the daughter of wealthy parents and a graduate of the best schools. Once she would have looked down on Francesca and Mr. Schuyler’s servant Frieda, but without them she would not be alive now. Frieda trained her to be useful to him and Francesca persuaded him to give her away at the end.
Her mind was in a whirl. When Frieda came for her this morning and led her outside, she was sure she was about to be strangled. She knelt in quiet acceptance at her owner’s feet waiting for him or Frieda to fasten the garrote around her neck. Instead he handed the end of the leash to Francesca and gave Anne to her. She could not believe at first that she was allowed to live, until Francesca led her away to the car.
Two young women, probably undergraduates, walked by and noticed her; they stared at her through the windshield. Anne suddenly realized how unprepared she was for her new existence. When she signed herself over to her first owner Paul, he explained her fate; after a period of training she would be sold at auction, probably to a brothel or a wealthy “collector”. At either place she would be cared for as long as they found her of value, then resold or put down.
She was never meant to be the property of a student. And to live in an apartment building; the inside of a walled estate was all she had known since her submission to Paul. Would Francesca take her out in public? How should she act? What would her owner expect of her?
When she raised her head a minute later, the girls were gone. She made a resolution; she would do her best to obey her new owner in everything.
Francesca returned and opened the door; Anne looked up and gazed back. Francesca’s smile turned to a frown and she remembered she was forbidden to stare. Her owner was right about her need for discipline. She lowered her head as Francesca released her seat belt, and walked behind her with eyes glued to the ground.
Francesca led her down a flight of steps to the low-ceilinged basement and Anne took in the scene of her new home. Dust covered the floor and a musty smell pervaded the room, unlike the crisp fall air outside. Daylight filtered in through two small windows near the ceiling. Francesca led her charge to a far corner enclosed by a low wooden partition with a wide opening. A thin mattress lay on the ground, a great improvement over the stone floor at Mr. Schuyler’s.
Francesca took the end of a chain anchored to the foundation and clipped it to Anne’s leash. Anne wondered who had been attached to it before; Francesca was plainly familiar with it.
Her mistress left to find water and feed bowls for her, giving Anne time to examine her surroundings as she enjoyed the comfort of the mattress. The basement was mostly open except for the coal bin and a small door set in the opposite side. An old leather chair sat in the middle and bicycles and ski poles were stacked against the walls.
Presently Francesca returned with two metal basins; she filled one with water from a sink along the wall and set it down in a corner of the enclosure. Placing the other next to it, she added a generous quantity of feed pellets from a bag Mr. Schuyler had given her for the trip.
“I have to run out and get more of these today, and return Mr. Schuyler’s car; you should be all right here while I’m gone.”
“Thank you, ma’am. Will you return the car -”
“Just to his townhouse here. I won’t be long. Then I can take you upstairs and show you my place.”
“That would be wonderful ma’am.”
Francesca left on her errands and Anne knelt to lap up water and eat her feed from the bowls. She continued to explore the basement. Within the reach of her chain was a toilet set in the floor; it offered no privacy other than the basement itself, but it was enough for her needs. She lay down on the mattress, an unimaginable luxury in her cells at the academy and Mr. Schuyler’s, though its stains suggested it was the site of many assignations.
She was pondering this when she heard voices behind her. Turning, she saw a young man and woman enter the basement at the same time they saw her. They stopped in embarrassment. Anne knew what they had come for.
Without a word the man detached her leash from the wall and marched her briskly through the small door. On the other side a flight of stairs led down to a sub-basement. For a moment Anne feared he was going to push her down them, but he merely shook her leash; from her training she knew that was the command to go forward. He drove her ahead of him to the bottom where a hallway led off at an angle.
He tied her leash to the railing and paused to stroke her breasts, whose nipples rose in reply to his attentions. She smiled at him. He turned and went back upstairs. At the top he turned the lights off and locked the door behind him. Though young he had an air of command that reminded Anne of the men who trained her. She knelt in the darkness and waited. After a quarter hour he returned, led her back to the coal bin and chained her to the wall.
He introduced himself as Marc and his companion as Berenice; they were students at the university. Anne told them she was the property of a student who lived upstairs. Before leaving, Berenice kissed her on the neck and Marc patted the top of her head, which left her strangely agitated.
Francesca returned soon afterwards. She took her new possession to the back stairway used for trash disposal and utilities. She led Anne up the steps and along a hall to the door of her apartment.
The door opened onto the main room. A kitchen alcove to the left, a bathroom to the right, and Francesca’s bedroom straight ahead completed the layout. Anne took it all in slowly, including the steel eyebolt in the ceiling and another in the wall a short distance away.
An unopened suitcase lay on the sofa; Francesca hefted it easily with one hand while leading Anne to her bedroom with the other. She dropped the suitcase on the bed, opened it and began to hang up the clothing she had brought from Mr. Schuyler’s estate, leaving Anne to stand beside the bed with the leash draped between her breasts.
“Should I make lunch for you, ma’am?”
“Let me finish this and I’ll show you the kitchen. There.” Francesca led Anne around to the refrigerator. “I went to the grocery store before I dropped the car off.” She showed Anne the various cupboards and drawers, then freed her hands and coiled the leash around her neck.
While Francesca finished unpacking, Anne prepared a salad and tea for her with a roll and butter. She set a place at the table for her and served the lunch; also a saucer of pellets and a tumbler of water with a straw for herself on the table next to Francesca’s place. Her mistress would decide if she might have a cushion to kneel on.
Francesca returned to the dining area and pointed to a small pillow on the sofa for Anne, who put it on the floor by her place. She fastened Anne’s bracelets behind her and they both arranged themselves at the table. This was the first time she had dined alone with Francesca, and she looked up with adoration at her owner who playfully tousled her hair. She glowed when Francesca placed a small piece of chocolate on her tongue.
Anne washed the dishes and the two swept and dusted the apartment. As she cleaned the bedroom windows, Anne looked out at the university campus across the street. People strolled the walkways or lounged on the grass under the trees. She delighted in the view and paused to imagine herself bound and leashed outside, following her owner like a dog. What happiness that would be; and what would people say when they saw her? Would they be surprised? Would they approve?
During the afternoon Francesca left to get some items for school. She led Anne to the eyebolt in the wall and attached Anne’s leash to it. During her owner’s absence Anne speculated on how many others like her had knelt here and what had become of them. It did not even occur to her to wonder about her own future.
Francesca returned with her purchases, and the two finished sprucing up the apartment. Anne prepared dinner for her and her own simple meal. After she cleaned up she sat at Francesca’s feet by the sofa and rested her head on her mistress’s knee while Francesca read and stroked her hair.
Eventually it was time for bed. Francesca led her down the service stairs to the basement and chained her in place by the mattress. They saw that rats had taken the uneaten feed pellets; Francesca said she would leave smaller portions to avoid attracting them, but Anne would have to share her water. She kissed Anne on the forehead – this had become a bedtime tradition that Anne looked forward to each evening – turned out the light bulb that hung from the ceiling and left.
Anne settled down on her mattress, listening to the sounds of traffic outside and the scurrying of small animals in the walls, so different from her cell at Mr. Schuyler’s estate and the academy. After a short while she slipped into an untroubled sleep.