A Snapshot of Molly Ch. 02

Arriving at The Club we were admitted inside, Walter, Nellie and Mary being well known to the doorman and I was given a new temporary ID to wear until security got to know me. Once inside the real fun began.

I will say very little about The Club itself except that it was a well known spot for "ladies that lunch" and bored River Oaks housewives that played tennis or racquetball during the day, but at night it was restricted for Private members only. Even the Mayor (not a member) couldn't gain entry inside after hours. The furniture was all either priceless antiques or the most comfortable modern style club furniture that money could buy. A single chandelier or sconce would have probably paid my full tuition all the way through my Doctorate.

There were several large "public rooms" near the main front doors where dining or lectures could be held and the "private" restricted areas were to the back, the main part of which was laid out much like a Victorian old boys network London Club with big oversized leather chairs and small tables with reading lights, but usually not much "reading" occurred. The dress code was 'clothing optional'.

At one end was a long bar made of crafted antique oak and at the other end was a small DJ area with a dance floor. A number of more exclusive private rooms were along the center, each catering to different sexual specialties. Only a "Marked Member" was allowed to get unrestricted entrance into any of those rooms, but a 'MM' could bring an "escorted guest".

I was theoretically still a "Guest", but actually for purposes of mobility I could go anywhere and see anything, but in the private areas I was to definitely ask before entering, at least for tonight.

The "MM" business confused me until I saw several scantily clad ladies, young and not so young, scampering off into the Pink Room (Lesbian sex only, watchers tolerated).

They all had what appeared to be a tattooed mark at the bottom of their lower back, just above the ass crack, and most women also had additional designs to both sides as a larger and more exotic "tramp stamp" decoration.

This 'mark' was technically a tattoo, but it involved a complicated high-tech machine that injected a clear ink under the skin and then used different lasers for the design and coloring. This allowed an exceptional range of tattoo coloring, clarity and precise design details, far more so than traditional needle tattooing. The mark on the lower back was traditional, but some of the women placed theirs directly on their bare pubic mounds. Several others, in a Gorian style, had the mark on their upper thigh or ass cheek, as if it were a brand. A few more mature women had the older original hot iron brand marking of The Club burned into their flesh. There were more than few rather submissive women with additional branding marks, usually the initials of their Master, and this seemed to be a popular fetish here.

I won't even mention the cross-dressers, transgendered and several chicks that had dicks. It was obvious that this was a place where 'anything goes'.

Some men had a more masculine variation of this tattoo as well, but mostly male members simply wore their membership ring which was considered ample for admission anywhere they pleased. The membership ring, or the tattooed back stamp for the women, also allowed them admission, rights and privileges to other similar and affiliated clubs around the world.

Still dragging Mary back and forth while she toted my heavy bag of bricks, I was shown my new work area in the back and it would do well. It was an older laundry room that had been replaced a few years back so it had plumbing and floor drains. It also had a good storage area, was very well lit and had room for all of the equipment that I would later need.

I was told that members and their guests would start arriving about eight, but most of the 'fun' would be much later, but I was expected to be "on duty" between eight p.m. and 2 a.m., unless dismissed by the Club Manager early. The fun sometimes lasted longer, but usually by then the more enthusiastic players will have moved onwards for more private parties.

He would be my nominal boss, but I should feel free to ask Walt if I had any questions or problems. From the deference shown to him by everyone, I could tell that Walt was indeed a very senior member. My job was to remain in the background but be immediately available if anyone wished a photo taken. I was not to otherwise photograph members or guests without their express granted permission. I also found out that I would soon be responsible also for storing The Clubs security camera footage and would be often required to obtain still photos from the film.

I had about twenty minutes to get ready and I used them to run Mary ragged back and forth from the car to the new lab room, loading her down with equipment - most of which I would not need that night. Finally, a few minutes before 8 p.m, I considered myself ready, and now it was time to get Mary ready as well.

"Strip" I ordered her, and she just stood there looking at me. About what I had expected.

"When I tell you to do something, you willdoit, immediately and at once, do you understand me?" I told her in my sternest voice and with what I hoped was my biggest frown of annoyance. She nodded her head and started to undress, too slowly for my taste.

"Faster, Hurry!" I barked, and her clothes began to fly off onto the floor. When she was done standing naked in front of me I took a walk around her as if to inspect her, and I found much that I disapproved of.

If anything, she was much thinner than even her previous photos suggested. The way her ribs stuck out was frightening. The only comparable images I had seen even close to this were pictures of WW-II death camp survivors.

She had been quite busy cutting herself as well and there was a row of Band-Aids running down the inner sides of each thigh. I ripped each one off in turn, and told her when I ordered her to be naked she was to be completely naked with nothing on her but her skin.

I took out a small office supply binder clip (I had filled one pocket full of them earlier) and applied it to her clamping down on the upper fleshy region of her left breast (fleshy was not an apt word given her state of emaciation).

Now I explained to her our system of rewards and punishments. If she failed to obey me exactly to the letter she would receive another binder clip (non-damaging but painful enough to get her attention - it certainly beat sticking pins or skewers into her). If she was good, I would reward her with a piece of chocolate that she must eat and swallow or I would become exceptionally angry. The chocolates were some fancy covered macadamia nuts, and at about 1000 calories each, my best idea for getting at least a little bit of food into her without her being suspicious.

I ordered her to kneel, and directed her to spread her legs wider apart in order that she could "show off all of her pretty marks of self-abuse to everyone" and to hold her chest out and keep her back straight and head forward at all times. When she reached a posture that I deemed acceptable I gave her a first chocolate reward. I could tell she didn't want to swallow it but I glared at her menacingly until she did and then threatened to gag her if she did not swallow it for me. Then I loaded her up with two extra heavy cameras around her neck that I would probably not need, plus I put her old friend the camera bag of bricks around one of her shoulders and we started off to make the grand tour of the main lounge area.

She was directed to follow behind me about two paces and stop and kneel whenever I stopped for any reason. I made sure to start and stop a lot. Each time I found her posture to be much at fault, which earning her another binder clip and demerit. By the time we had finished our first circuit of the lounge, one breast was well covered by clips. A second circuit and there was no space left to mount another so I started on her other breast.

By 10 p.m. I had to return to the lab area to refill my pocket with more clips. The reward pocket was unfortunately still mostly full, but her posture was starting to improve and my plan of shaming her by making her display all of her hidden self-mutilations publicly (and being forced to tell how they occurred) was bearing fruit. Along with slouching, which seemed to be a perpetual habit with her, she had the habit of keeping her knees drawing closer to try and hide her self-inflicted cuts.

"What you're not proud of them? Spread your legs even wider, let's give everyone a good view of them, and keep your arms above your head also so your pretty arm cuts can be seen too." I bellowed and her, and she hastened to obey and I gave her another reward.

By midnight she was exhausted with the constant exercise and could no longer keep her hands above her head, so instead I used a pair of leather restraints to keep her hands fastened tight behind her back. This helped her a bit with her posture too, by making her arch her shoulders and back. This helped her earn a few more rewards and saved us another trip to refill up on clips before the night ended at 2 a.m.

I made the exhausted Mary reload all of the equipment back into the car and then kneel frozen in position, still with all of her clips in place while I relaxed for awhile and chatted with her father and several other Club members. I had seemingly forgotten all about her and I appearing to not be looking at her at all until she would slowly slip out of position, and then I would bark at her to "resume her position" and apply another clip. By this point I had several on her stomach and a few near by but not directly on her vaginal area.

I bid her parents goodnight and said that we would see them tomorrow, which confused Mary greatly and without even getting her clothes or her purse, which were safe locked up in the lab area, I marched her naked straight out the front door and into the parking towards my car. She began to panic as she was nude and her front was covered with clamped binder clips and her hands were still tied behind her back.

"What if someone sees me, what if the Police pull us over?"

"Then I will make you spread your boney legs apart again and show all of the nice officers your pretty marks and how you got them, and then they'll take you to the County Hospital and fill you up with all sorts of happy fun-time drugs. But don't worry; I'll come visit you every day." With that she slouched down into the passenger seat of the car to better hide her naked body, but I was having nothing of it.

"Aren't you proud of your body the way it is? You've gone through an awful lot of trouble to mold it just the way it is, all nice and scarred and bone thin. Don't you want to show it off? Aren't you proud of what you've accomplished? Let's go show it off to everyone we can find!" And we nearly did.

I thought she would absolutely die from embarrassment when we pulled into a Sonic Drive-In and I let the car hop and all of the other customers admire Mary's nude abused body. When I started to cruise up and down the Richmond Avenue "party strip" area to display Mary to the patrons leaving the bars was when she finally broke down and begged to be taken home and that she would "do anything else I ordered her to, anything".

With that I took pity on her and we went to her home via back streets. I really didn't want to have her hauled off by the Police for indecent exposure. The arrest report wouldn't look very good on my Graduate School application.

When we got to her house, she was going to certainly be in for another big surprise. She lived in a small but nice duplex house in the Montrose area quite near my old job. Her parents owned the place as one of their many investment and rental properties but let her stay rent free. I lived not too much farther inside the Loop myself and could get to her house if needed within five minutes or so. My final errand of Saturday afternoon had been to go to her house after I was given the "all clear" that she had arrived at her parent's house, to do some serious snooping.

There wasn't time to do a completely thorough and professional job earlier, but I had found and disposed of her main cutting kit (undoubtedly there would be more), put some food into the refrigerator for the morning (there had been none), and found her main assortment of play toys of which a few of them might prove useful later.

I think the full realization of what she had gotten herself really into occurred to her just about the time I pulled out my copy of her house key.

I ordered her to enter and kneel before me on the living room floor, which she did shaking all over from nerves. I pulled off the first binder clip that I had attached and demanded that she tell me what she had done to earn that one. She actually did remember, and I told her "Good" and gave her another reward. Naturally though, she couldn't remember what most of the rest where specifically for, and as she now got most of the answers wrong (she'd had enough chocolate for one day anyway, especially on an extremely shrunken stomach) I would give her a relatively gentle swat on her ass cheeks for each wrong answer with a well-worn out riding crop I had found under her bed.

Her breasts were now quite black and blue all over by the time I had removed the last one and the pain from the released circulation combined with the swats on her ass had obviously made her very aroused. Nice, but there was still some work to be done first.

For starters her bed was a disaster, I don't know when the last time she had changed her sheets was, but it had been a long time. Worse still were all of the blood stains that seemed to be everywhere. Not only had she sometimes done some of her cutting in bed, but she (or someone else) had seriously whipped her until the point of bleeding on apparently many occasions. Some scarring could be seen on her back, stomach, tits and ass. She did own a pair of clean sheets and I released her cuffs long enough for her to get them out and put them onto the bed, while I supervised to make sure she did the job neatly. This earned her several more swats with the crop before things were done properly to my satisfaction.

Now it was time for a little fun before bed. I directed her to kneel and I reaffixed her cuffs behind her. Then I pulled out an item that I had found earlier in the day that had greatly disturbed me and showed it to her.

"What is this item, and who is "Muffin?" I demanded holding the sturdy leather neck collar with a ring and a dog tag that read Muffin on it before her while holding the crop in an angry manner before her. I held the crop to her neck forcing her eyes upwards to meet and hold firm with mine. She didn't want to answer, but I made her. No surprise, things were really just as bad as I thought.

A "Muffin" is the most vulgar possible term that can be applied to a woman. Being tattooed on the forehead with 'SLUT' would be probably kinder. The politest way I could even begin to describe this term would be a woman who would willingly sacrifice her own life for the sexual and sadomasochist pleasure of others.

The fact that Mary was willing and in factdesiredto be the willing victim of a sexual experience that would end with her being snuffed out dead was heart wrenching. This was seriously major mental illness, and I was now drifting in extremely deep waters.

Muffin, more so than Mary, was her real and true identity these days. She yearned for the oblivion of death now, and if by her death she could grant someone else pleasure, even if it meant the ripping and tearing of her flesh, so much the better.

I let my anger flow forth in my words to her. "Why didn't you wear this tonight, Muffin?

Didn't you want everyone to see just now much of you they can really have if they want it? I could have taken pictures while they sliced off your tits a little bit at each time. I'm sure your proud father would want his little girls last bit of fun to recorded. Maybe a nice big framed picture of the final result, your bleeding body totally sliced apart with nothing left to tell that it was even really you. Is that want you really want?"

The answer was a weak no, but the eyes said "Yes". Simple steps, one at a time, I whispered to myself.

I fixed her collar to her neck and told her how pretty she looked with it on. The ring I thought 'really brought out her skeletal shoulder and collar bones'. I kept on in this vein until she was in tears. If she was going to cry, I was now going to give her a valid reason for it. But first I wanted her to know from the get go that she would be receiving no consideration of privacy whatsoever from me.

I directed her that it was nearly time for bed and that she had my permission to use the bathroom. She did need to go, but was startled to see that I had taken the bathroom door off the hinges earlier and moved into her small garage.

Privacy was the last thing I wanted to give her for a good long while to come.

"Piss, Now!" I ordered her, and stood over her watching her as she relieved herself. She couldn't wipe herself dry with her arms tied and I did that for her. Her bruised vagina seemed to be extremely wet and moist, even without the urine.

I directed her to kneel at the foot of the bed with her ass out and asked her "How many times had she disobeyed this evening". Naturally she did not know, actually neither did I but I guessed somewhere around sixty times, so I told her it was sixty-three, and she would now before bed receive one strike from the crop for each demerit.

I tanned both ass cheeks evenly to a uniform glorious color of fire engine red, but I avoided striking near her cunt or her clit because she seemed so aroused that I feared she would come if either was touched even for a moment. Her eyes were aglow with pleasure and as I finished with her punishment she was loudly begging me to fuck her.

"Fuck me please" she begged, "Do anything you want to me, just please put your cock in me and let me come"

"I don't fuck Muffins" I replied, "I might be willing to fuck Mary or even Molly, but your boney little cunt would give me no pleasure at all. I think I'll just lie back in bed and masturbate to memory of all of the pretty ladies I saw tonight with flesh on their ribs and thighs that didn't look like they were a cat's scratching post. When I fuck a woman, I like them to stay fucked and come back the next day for still more fucking, and not wind up in some pathetic losers backyard buried in a piss covered shallow grave."

With that, I fastened a short sturdy chain I had prepared at the foot of her bed and chained her there and turned off the lights.

While I slept (badly) in her bed she spent a restless night chained and helpless on the carpeted floor at the foot of her own bed. She whimpered a few times but when I warned her that her next offense would get a gag put in her mouth she remained silent. I resisted the urge to masturbate, as I thought that would just be rubbing salt in her wounds, but all of the fun this evening had left me very aroused indeed, but I could not let her detect that. For now at least I had to remain a stern and implacable Master.

The next morning, I had a good lounge in bed for awhile while I listened to her roll about impatiently on the floor. At last I got up and unchained her and supervised her morning urination. Next I started the shower and released her from her cuffs and ordered her into it. I soon joined her, but any hopes she had of an erotic interlude were soon dashed.

I stuck to the basics of seeing that she was clean (especially her cut marks) and gave the interesting parts only minimal attention. She did pay extra attention to my cock and balls and was about to take me into her mouth before I stopped her.