A Snapshot of Molly

I had set the alarm for quite early, as there was a lot to do before taking Mary to work in the morning. She was very eager to see me, but also very tired as this had been her second night in a row with little or no sleep. Now it was time to start teaching her the weekday routine I would expect her to follow from now one.

"Do you need to piss now?" I asked her, and she begged to be allowed to go.

"Well go now" I told her, and soon there was a large puddle in the middle of her living room wood floor. I then released her and had her clean up the mess, and then told her prepare our shower for us, which she did.

We showered quickly and I chose her wardrobe for the day at work, inspecting every item to make sure it was clean and unwrinkled. I made her iron both her skirt and blouse and then clean her shoes, which were well worn and scuffed. All of her work shoes in her closet were either flats or had a very low one inch or less heel, and I told her that I would expect her to wear pumps in the future for work.

Then I told her to put on her makeup. She normally didn't wear any, she told me, but that answer was of course quite unacceptable. We scrounged what few pieces of makeup she did have and I made sure she used them. I told her that her employers would expect Mary to show up to work each day looking pretty and professional looking, and were probably quite tired already of seeing frumpy ugly Muffin instead.

Breakfast was simple, just juice, a banana each and some cereal. Her stomach was restless again this morning, but after a close call she managed to hold everything down.

If she expected to drive her own car into work alone, she was sadly mistaken. I let her drive, but I went with her and told her that I'd be borrowing her car for the day. I hadn't had the time to search it for contraband yet, and I certainly didn't trust her on her own yet. She had her own assigned parking place in the contract parking garage and I made her take me up to her office.

I emptied all of her desk drawers and found her work cutting kit, stashed in a small otherwise empty makeup bag, and then called in her administrative assistant Shirley.

"Shirley, Hi, my name is Ramsey, but you can call me Ray. I'm Mary's keeper this particular week and since she's been especially careless lately I want you to take care of the blades in this bag and make sure that they get properly thrown out. That should help with all of the accidental cuts she's been getting lately."

The embarrassment continued from there. I told Shirley that I did not want Mary going to the restroom or out alone by herself as she might 'accidentally feel a bit sick and want to throw up her lunch'. I further arranged for Shirley to order lunches from now on for both herself and Mary and that they should eat together, and then I gave her fifty dollars to pay for their meals together for the week. I gave her my cell phone number with strict instruction to call me directly in the event of an emergency or other problem that she couldn't handle.

Shirley took me aside afterwards and thanked me for my "intervention" with Mary, as it was an open secret that she was not mentally well lately and everyone was concerned about her weight and had strongly suspected bulimia. I gave her strict instructions to be my "eyes and ears" and told her I would be checking up on Mary as often as I could during the day. I also told her that the situation was indeed much more dire than she had realized and that a long vacation or a "medical leave" might be necessary at any time, and if she could have those papers already filled out and ready for pre-approval it would be much appreciated.

I had two critical things back at her house to do today and I also wanted to spring a couple of surprise visits on Mary, but this first step ended up taking far longer than I had planned and I missed meeting Mary and Shirley for a surprise luncheon visit. I gave Shirley a call and discovered that while Mary had eaten "most of her lunch" she then went straight to the bathroom and Shirley had heard her throwing it back up.

Damn one step forward, another step backwards. I directed Shirley to get them an afternoon snack and make sure that Mary ate it and couldn't purge afterwards.

My first critical errand that so far had eaten up nearly all of the day was a systematic search of Mary's home computer. I was sure there were a number of things that I would find that I wouldn't like or enjoy reading. That was an understatement. She had an entire folder in her saved documents labeled 'Suicide Notes', with about a dozen different flavors offered.

More serious was her web bookmarks of favorite Internet sites, all catering to extreme aficionados' of S&M and Snuff material. I could check her messages on many of these sites she had registered on and found that she had been actively searching for a sex partner that would kill her at the final stages of their lovemaking. Fortunately she hadn't yet found the right partner. I deleted her accounts from these message boards, and removed her shortcuts.

Next I began to search her favorite Usenet newsgroups. Naturally, she was active on alt.suicide, alt.sex.torture, and alt.sex.snuff.cannibalism. This last group seemed to be her main home, and she had written numerous short stories about how she fantasized her last hours of life would be. The stories were well-written, articulate and all extremely disturbing. Each story seemed to be increasingly more violent than the one before it and I printed out copies of all of them and also forwarded them by email to her father.

The methods of sexual torture and death that were described were always lingering and painful, with no consideration of her own wants and desires, her sole desire was just how best to serve the sadist that would soon be extinguishing her life. She was hung, strangled with cords, cut into tiny little pieces at a time, stabbed, bludgeoned, buried alive and often cooked alive and eaten in her stories.

The men characters in her stories were always one-dimensional fiends who had no love for "Muffin" but used her for their sadistic pleasure and once her corpse was no longer of interest, it was merely garbage to be disposed of.

This was horrifying to read how utterly empty and tired her soul was. I began to despair that she could be rehabilitated at all, even with the most modern drugs and with the most caring psychiatric medical staff. Suddenly the whole chainsaw brain surgery option began to look very good indeed, but Walt still didn't think so.

He liked what he had seen the other evening where Mary seemed willing to accept me as her Master and allowed me to utterly control every trivial part of her life. This was indeed a level of trust and he hoped over time that as her 'need to serve and make me happy' became stronger she could likely now be weaned from these stronger self-destructive impulses. He was going to read and study her stories to make sure, and he thought that he already had the kernel of an idea, but he wanted to think on it some more. I decided to let him call the shots, that's why he's got the PhD and makes all of the big bucks.

We hung up the phone just in time for me to go pick up Mary from work. My other task, to tear the house completely apart looking for anything she could use to hurt or kill herself would have to wait until tomorrow.

I picked Mary up at her office and got a thumbs up signal from Shirley that her second lunch had stayed down, and we left to do our evening shopping. First, to a large shoe store where Mary selected several styles and colors of pumps, each with heels at least four inches high. These looked good on her and I approved of them. She was very drawn to a pair of Italian black leather 'fuck me pumps' with six inch heels, but I refused to allow that purchase, telling her that "Muffin had no need for those, but I thought that Mary would look very good in those later."

Our last stop for the night was to buy her a full range of cosmetics and for those we went to a big mall store that had a cosmetics expert on-hand to suggest and sample a wide range of daytime and evening looks for Mary. I accepted most of her advice and we purchased a full set of the products for her to use.

Dinner was late and at home, I didn't feel like rewarding Mary for her disobedience today with a "date meal" out. I taught Mary how to sauté a pair of chicken breasts with rosemary and orange juice, and we fixed some rice and a vegetable to have with it. Mary's personal china was pretty bad stuff (she did eat mostly from microwave packages when she did eat) and I had bought an inexpensive but nice looking 'everyday' stonewear set for four, and had Mary set a proper table with the new dishware and both water and wine glasses for us both.

She was allowed one glass of white wine with dinner, and she actually ate everything that I had put onto her plate without any disagreement. The dinner was pleasant, but it was a shame the rest of the evening was not to be so enjoyable.

After she cleared off the table and put the dishes into the dishwasher, I ordered her to strip and kneel in front of me and to look me in the eyes.

"Mary, did you eat all of your lunch today?" Yes, she said she had.

"Mary, did you then go to the restroom right afterwards and throw it all up again?" She would not answer and couldn't hold my gaze, but tried shaking her head "No".

"Are you sure that you did not stick your fingers into your throat and throw up the nice lunch that I had Shirley get for you?" Again she could not meet my gaze or speak, but just shook her head "No".

"It seems as if Muffin really enjoyed sleeping last night hanging from the ceiling. Too bad, I was going to maybe let Mary sleep in the bed tonight, but it seems poor stupid Muffin would rather suffer and make Mary uncomfortable again all night long. Did we discuss yet what the punishment would be if poor stupid little Muffin was caught being bad and lying again? Last night you got twenty-five strokes for disobedience; tonight we are going to start with fifty and then do a few more until Mary can convince poor stupid little Muffin to be a good smart girl and confess when she makes a mistake."

And so Muffin spent another pain filled evening hanging from the hook in the living room ceiling. I kept the strokes slow but firm and not synchronized in timing so that she could not anticipate the next one. By the twentieth she was crying, and by the fortieth her pleading for mercy was becoming increasingly sincere. The fiftieth stroke I aimed carefully so that I would hit both nipples with the blow and she screamed in pain so loudly that she lost bladder control and once again pissed all over her living room floor.

I let her down long enough to clean up her mess and as I was about to lift her back onto the hook for another round of punishment when she gushed out her confession that she had indeed purged her luncheon.

"Will you ever do it again?" I asked her, holding her head and eyes firm with mine.

"No Master, I will never purge myself intentionally again, and if my stomach throws it back on its own I will tell you myself immediately and do as you tell me to." Every word was now spoken sincerely, and I almost believed her.

Mary slept that night once again chained at the foot of the bed, but slept more comfortably as I allowed her a blanket to wrap her bruised body up in. Maybe we were now making some little progress together.

********

Tuesday went much better, I paid her two surprise visits at work and joined her for her lunch of soup and a little pasta salad, all of which she kept down. I finally finished my final exhaustive search of the house and no more blades were found. I did locate a bottle of rat poison from the back of her walk-in closet and a bottle of drain cleaner on a top shelf in the bathroom, and these were disposed of. Now that I was fairly sure that the house was reasonably safe, I could begin to give her a few moments free from observation and see if she would lead me to anything else that was too well hidden from me.

We again had a good home cooked dinner that night, and as Mary had been mostly demerit free that day, I allowed her to sit with me on the floor still dressed and watch some television for an hour or two before bed, when she once again slept at the foot of the bed.

Wednesday, some sort of miracle occurred and Mary was well behaved all day long. In fact I had let her go to the bathroom first in the morning all by herself, and after checking on her a moment or two later I found that she had not yet gone.

"I was waiting for your permission to go Master." She said, which I laughingly gave and whispered into her ear to "be a good girl and piss for me", she smiled and spread her legs widely so I could better watch her flow and waited to allow me to pat her dry afterwards, even though her hands were free. She then asked if she could please watch me go, and I let her, even letting her hold my cock to control the aim of my flow. She then patted me dry and kissed the tip of my cock before I put it back into my shorts.

I joined her for lunch again that day. She was again having soup as that seemed to settle well her stomach, which was still getting used to having food again, and she even enjoyed a little cup of ice cream afterwards. Dinner also went flawlessly, and she even seemed to have an appetite and wanted a bit more for seconds.

I made sure to effusively praise her, and told her over and over how pleased I was with her. This seemed to make her glow with pride, and was really the first look of self- satisfaction I had ever seen her have. I decided that a more appropriate reward would be in store for her.

We watched one show on television together, her head lying against my thigh and knee, and then I ordered her to get up and turn off the TV and strip for me. I told her then to kneel in front of me and tell me about the first time she had ever had sex.

She was allowed to masturbate herself but she was not to come without my permission first.

Actually, her first ever sexual encounter was with a girlfriend at a sleepover when they were both sixteen. Mary had borrowed one of her mother's dildos and they broke each other's hymens and masturbated each other with their hands. They stayed lovers until each left for different colleges after high school and then they had lost touch with each other afterwards.

Her first boyfriend in High School was a clumsy lover a year younger than she was and his technique was mostly "in-out, repeat if necessary". I laughed and told her that was probably pretty typical for most high school aged boys (possibly including myself at that age), but what we lacked in stamina, we made up for in fast recovery, and that practice (as in all things) did make perfect. She was still mad at him for ruining her favorite sweater she was laying on when he pulled out of her at the last second and came all over it in a massive sticky puddle.

Her husband, as we had all suspected, had gradually trained this relatively inexperienced girl to accept pain as a compliment to pleasure. Soon she virtually needed even

required

pain in order to achieve orgasm. Mary was now having a great deal of difficulty in coming for me, and I made her tell me hotter and wilder stories of their lovemaking until I thought she was close enough to orgasm and I whispered into her ear, "Come for me, be my good big girl and make your clit come for me." With that she screamed out in orgasm and couldn't resume her proper kneeling position for some time.

I gently kissed her head, and asked her casually what her name was, "Muffin" she said instantly without thinking about it, and then hung her head down in considerable sadness afterwards.

"Muffin" again enjoyed another night at the foot of the bed.

*******

Thursday and Friday did not go so well at all. Mary seemed a little out of sorts, and had to be constantly reminded to do all of the little morning tasks we had established for her new daily routine. She wasn't very hungry for breakfast, and had to be nudged into eating before we left for work. I met her again for lunch each day and she seemed resentful that I was "once again checking up on her, didn't I trust her?" I just smiled and said, "We'll see."

Both nights she had minor punishments for a few demerits and slept at her now usual spot on the floor. Friday though she was so argumentative and surly that for the first time I tied her up and put one of her ball gags into her mouth before I left to spend the evening alone at The Club. She wasn't good company that evening and her continual efforts to rebel were beginning to make me angry and lose my cool composure with her. I decided it was better to let her stew alone tied up in the dark alone at home.

It was a slow night there and the Club Manager cut me loose a little after midnight. Muffin wasn't terribly excited at my return and I was too tired to deal with attitude. I ignored her. She then began kicking the bed until I fastened a spreader bar onto her ankles with a warning that upon her next disruption she would then spend the night hanging upside down from her feet in the living room. She had pissed herself during the evening but since her attitude still needed a lot of adjusting I let her sleep in it.

"What's your name?" I asked her first thing on Saturday morning when I took out the ball gag.

"Muffin!" She exclaimed with a sharp tone of anger in her voice.

"Well then stupid little Muffin is going to sit here all day on her piss covered carpet and enjoy the smell. I was going to take Mary out for a few treats, but I think she'd rather wallow in her own piss with Muffin".

Back in went the ball gag, and she remained chained to the foot of the bed with her legs locked in the spreader bar for the remainder of the day. Twice I brought her food to eat and each time she initially refused it until I pinched her nose closed and waited for her mouth to open breathe and began force feeding her until she sullenly agreed to eat again on her own.

I made sure she got plenty of water also, and by late afternoon the bedroom carpet underneath her was totally soaked with urine. At 6 p.m., when she looked quite miserable enough to be a bit more sociable, I removed her gag and asked her for her name.

"I don't care at the moment; call me anything you want to. Muffin is too tired to argue and Mary is too pissed to talk to you. Take your pick."

A pissed off Mary suited me just fine. I released her and put her into the shower while I got out her carpet cleaning stuff from the hall closet. This became Mary's first chore of the day and it took awhile to get the urine smell out of the air and the carpet mostly dry and clean. I told Mary that she was not to dress for The Club, but to only wear a coat or jacket if she had one over herself. She did have a raincoat and that covered her fine for the drive to and from the Club.

While "on duty" as my assistant, her behavior remained fairly surly and sullen. Her posture became quite dreadful once again and soon I was on my second box of binder clips for her to wear. When I warned her that if we ran out of binder clips I would start to use stickpins instead that perked her up a bit and her posture much improved.

Her cut marks were mostly healed now (I had been giving those special cleaning attention morning and night and putting on ointment to reduce the scarring) and there was no need to revisit that particular embarrassment punishment on her.

She seemed to become very irritated when I spent a good deal of time conversing with a lovely lady in her early thirties with a rather impressive display of nipple and vaginal area piercings. Her husband was out of town this week, but she had his ok to "play" and kick up her heels a bit. She demonstrated that several years of yoga lessons had been well spent indeed by wrapping herself upon on the floor and demonstrating that she could easily put her feet completely behind her shoulders and head.