One morning Francesca gave Anne her breakfast feeding downstairs, then took a washcloth from a shelf on the wall. She wet it in the sink for a moment, squeezed it out, and wiped Anne’s face with it. She retrieved a comb from the same shelf and ran it through Anne’s hair to untangle the snarls. This was her dressing up now, so unlike the days when she chose expensive garments from her closet to impress or seduce.
Anne loved it when Francesca groomed her. She turned slowly to display her body for smudges, hoping her owner would find some and wishing she had rolled on the floor last night. Still, there were a few on her breasts; she glowed with pleasure as they were rubbed.
Francesca led her outside through the park and onto the university campus. A cold watery sun flickered through wisps of blowing fog; Anne clung to the memory of Francesca’s touch to distract herself from the chill.
They encountered Berenice on the pathway and Francesca said a few words to her in private. Anne heard her mention Marc. Berenice nodded in agreement.
She steered her girl to the campus security building to be examined; there were strict rules about “pets” like Anne.
A middle-aged woman in a white coat (a doctor, Anne supposed) bent her over, took her temperature and examined her. She enjoyed the probing though it was a little clinical; until the end when the woman entered her and in less than a minute brought her moaning to a climax. Anne never learned if that was part of the exam, or to prepare her for some purpose, or to show off the woman’s skill at this.
She attached an “Inspected” tag to Anne’s collar and gave her back, a little wilted, to her owner.
Francesca’s first class was a lecture. She took an aisle seat in the large hall and pointed for Anne to kneel. The aisles were wide enough for students to walk around her. She wondered if they were designed to accommodate girls like her beside their seated masters. Then she saw another on the other side of the hall; yes, that must be it.
She tried to interest herself in the subject of the talk but it was beyond her. Her head drooped and Francesca patted it to bring her back. A few minutes later it drooped again; her owner yanked it back up by the hair. After that she tried to maintain a firmer resolve.
Francesca brought Anne to her next class, a seminar; again Anne knelt beside her, this time at the table. A lively discussion began on a topic she cared about. Too much so; it led her to err.
Momentarily forgetting herself she started to speak. Francesca pinched one of her nipples fairly hard; she stopped. A few minutes later she did it again. Francesca got up and said a few words to the teacher; then she told Anne to rise.
“Not domesticated yet, I see,” the teacher observed.
“I thought she was; I’m sorry for the interruptions.”
“No problem. We’ll just put her out in the hall.” The teacher took a rubber ball from a drawer and inserted it in Anne’s open mouth, then a cloth strip to hold it in place. Francesca covered her eyes with another strip. She led Anne out into the corridor and backed her against the wall.
“Feet apart. Wider. That’s enough.”
Anne stood in the hallway for the rest of the period thoroughly ashamed of herself. How could she misbehave like this? She knew it was wrong but she kept doing it. And after months of training; they were right, she needed more discipline.
She heard voices close by as a group of students approached her. She lifted her head and tried to smile – hard to do with a ball in her mouth – as they stroked her breasts and belly and played with her fleece before wandering off. At least she was of a little use to someone, that was good.
At the end of the hour Francesca came out with the class. She said no word of reproach which shamed Anne still further as she removed the blindfold and gag, then silently led her upstairs to a suite of offices where she had an appointment with her faculty advisor.
His secretary Camille stood and greeted the pair in his outer office.
Camille was about thirty Anne guessed, and very businesslike in appearance; but she had full firm breasts beneath a thin sweater – no bra, that was obvious – and dark stretch pants which shaped a tight well-rounded derriere.
Anne caught herself; she must try not to look with desire on everyone she met. It was all she ever thought about.
Camille pointed to the side of her desk; Francesca told Anne to kneel and the secretary attached her leash to a short chain. She filled a water bowl and set it in front of Anne before announcing Francesca to her boss.
He came out and invited Francesca in to her appointment, and closed the door behind him. Anne knelt quietly, fearing to make yet another mistake. She lapped up some water and stared at the rug.
After a few minutes she felt someone stroking her buttocks; it was Camille. Anne was pleased beyond measure at this and silently turned to present them to the woman above her, spreading her knees apart just in case.
That proved useful, and for the next half hour Camille took advantage of the opportunity. Anne forgot the embarrassments of the morning – in fact most of the world around her – and made contented little noises until a turning of the inner door handle put an end to their brief romance.
She saw no other girls like herself until lunchtime in the cafeteria. A professor had two on a pair of leashes; she led them into the faculty dining room.
A young woman, a wealthy student by her appearance, had a single girl; she introduced herself and Jane to Francesca, and at a nod told her to rub Anne’s belly with her own. This caught Anne by surprise, but she liked it and soon the two girls were stimulating one another and sighing in front of the crowd. Francesca gave them another minute, then laughed, said “That’s enough” and separated them.
After lunch she needed to do research at the library; pets were not allowed there. She led Anne to the university quadrangle. Marc was waiting for them in the center of the big lawn; she handed the end of the leash to him and walked away.
Marc told her to lie on her back and she obeyed at once. Within minutes three young men took her. They had no concern about the public nature of their tryst, and it was a new experience for Anne; how much she had to learn.
Soon she was in an amorous delirium after being used by more boys than she could count. And a pair of women, she remembered that; one took her mouth and sucked her breasts while the other worked her below.
And one of them was Camille. Anne could not explain why that made her so happy, but it did.
A voice called her name. She looked up at a young woman standing over her and struggled to respond. Rae was a reporter for the college newspaper; she wanted to interview Anne.
Anne responded to her questions as well as she was able in her condition; it would all appear in tomorrow’s paper.
Rae knelt and took up the tag on her collar, which she could feel but not see. Three green circles; did she know what they meant?
Anne said she did not.
Her mouth, her womb, and her rear were all clean, they could be used without protection. Which did men like the most?
Anne’s brow furrowed for a moment as she thought the question over. Her rear, it was the tightest. Even men who preferred boys used her as second-best in a pinch. Then her mouth, because of her tongue she guessed; but all three passages were well traveled. Rae wrote her answers down on a notepad.
Then she photographed Anne. First a closeup portrait of her face bordered by the grass as she lay on her back. And a shot of her from above, displaying her opened legs in welcome.
Last, Rae instructed Anne to lie face down for a view of her bound hands, her buttocks and the stripes on her thighs.
When she was on her back again, Marc gave her a cookie and some water from a bottle while Rae watched. She was glad of the water; some boys had come straight from the gym.
Just then Francesca returned to take Anne home. Rae drew her aside. She was intrigued by Anne’s experience; she might like to try it out herself, just to see. Francesca told her how to contact Paul; he would arrange everything.
She asked Francesca about the stripes.
They were punishment for disobedience.
The reporter followed up. What had she done?
Francesca did not know; a friend told her and Anne admitted her guilt.
Marc stood by, smiling but silent.
That night as she lay on the floor of her cell, Anne reflected on the day just past. She was grateful to her owner for the experience. It was unique; a first for her, though she suspected it would not be the last.
She tried to guess the number of her partners; more than a dozen, probably about twenty today. But word would get out quickly; if Francesca took her there again, she could expect many more.
All companions of the moment. She would never see any of them again after their fleeting intimacy.
Well, that’s what she was for; it was the life she had chosen. Still, something in her longed for a deeper and more lasting relationship.
Rae’s interview was on page one the next morning with Anne’s name, and the three photographs tucked away discreetly inside; it caused a brief sensation around town.
About a year later Paul sent Francesca a portion of Rae’s sale price as a finder’s fee.