estled in the leafy hillside woods of Northern Italy is a small leafy hamlet dominated by an austere looking 13th century country villa.

I am here to meet the 'Marquise', a formidable aristocrat of infamous reputation in selective circles.
I have, however been down this route before, enticed into laboured journeys with the promise of a meeting with a 'Pet Meister' of mythical proportions only to end up spending a few unpleasant hours with an amateur pimp and his 'muse' in a damp and draughty motel.
The Marquise is standing resplendent in fine Northern European couture, perfect for a brisk walk in the late early morning. I can see she's not impressed with my blue jeans and outrageously creased shirt...

In the shadows of the stall sitting quite still in the thick straw I can see a young woman. She is naked apart from a thick leather hood. The Marquise issues a short command in Italian and woman crawls forward into the light. Apart from all the other delightful aromas I can smell in the musty barn I also 'smell a rat'. This had to be a set-up - keeping a servant naked in a cattle pen? 'What happens in winter', I asked, trying not to sound too cynical. 'It snows. A lot', she dryly replied, her caramel colored eyes fixed on me like a hawk eyes its prey. 'Er, I mean, in the winter, what happens in the winter - the girl, doesn't she get cold?
Nonsense, it is no problem - I bring her the fat to wear. She answered my quizzical look. 'We put the pork fat all over her body to be keeping her not too cold, understand?' "

Extract from 'Truffle Pig' a report on Albanian pet-slaves
 

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