The Art of Submission
By Helotage
Chapter 11: Mollie’s Last Day
Mollie wore her leather collar and a tiny blue sun dress, which accentuated her eyes’ blue, and nothing else, not even her leather bikini, which was in her left hand. Just as she opened the door to the antique store, a strong breeze flipped the back of her skirt up, exposing her ass to pedestrians on the street behind her. A guy shouted his approval. She did not care.
The woman stood at the counter looking as though she were expecting Mollie. She had on a long soft leather dress, black, of course, with a plunging neckline and slit up to the hip on each side. It was breathtaking. They locked eyes as Mollie entered, and then Mollie lowered hers as a sign of obeisance. “Well, well, you’re back already,” the woman laughed. “Hey, Roger, look who’s back.” Roger waved from the other side of the store where he was helping an older couple with some glassware. Mollie walked over to the counter, eyes still downcast, and held out her right fist. “What is this,” the woman asked as Mollie handed her a USB drive.
“This is for you. You may do what you want with it,” Mollie replied.
The woman raised an eyebrow and pointed her chin at the leather outfit in Mollie’s left hand. “And that? Aren’t you supposed to model that for me?” The woman smiled sardonically as she turned to a computer to install the drive. Within minutes, the screen was filled with photos of Mollie, all the obscene degrading photos she had taken that week. The woman flipped through them quickly right there for anyone in the store to see. The woman paused on one of Mollie in her leather bikini, leaning back on some pillows with her legs spread to the camera. Her right hand looked like it was tweaking her left nipple under the bra. “Hey, Roger! I need you to check this out.” Mollie just about died. Roger came over with an antique glass serving bowl, and the older couple trailed him closely.
“Oh my,” Roger exclaimed dramatically. His grin was itself obscene. The woman went to the next shot, a photo of Mollie doing her best downward dog yoga pose for the camera, her ass high in the air and her face looking back at the camera through her legs. She had nothing on and everything was completely exposed.
“Whoa,” the older man exclaimed. The older woman acted shocked and scandalized. She turned away.
“Sorry about that,” Roger said.
“Don’t be,” the man replied, grinning and comparing Mollie’s naked body in the photo with her lightly clad one before him.
The older woman was laughing. “Heaven forfend that I have to view a beautiful naked woman.” The man laughed too.
“Don’t worry,” he added. “We’re cool with this, perfectly cool. She was just joking. We mostly came here because we heard you had a special collection in back.” He winked. “And to get a glass bowl.”
The older woman looked more intently at the screen and then at Mollie and then back to the screen and then again at Mollie. Her eyesight was not so good, the older man explained. She asked, “is that you, dear?” Mollie looked down and nodded. The woman took Mollie’s hand and stroked it lasciviously. “You don’t need to be embarrassed, honey. I, for one, could be a big fan.” She blew Mollie an exaggerated kiss as Roger led them to the secret collection.
The woman in black went back through the photos while Mollie stood there. She commented minutely on every aspect of each photo this time: Mollie’s pose, the look on Mollie’s face, the virtues and flaws of Mollie’s body. She missed no detail, scrutinizing both the quality of the photos themselves and of Mollie’s anatomy. Other customers walked in. Some saw the screen and made haste to leave. Others milled about nearby pretending not to look. Still others baldly came over and listened closely to the woman’s appraisal. The woman even invited them to offer their own assessments. This went on for hours. There were lots of photos and lots of critiques. Mollie stood by sheepishly the whole time. The woman behind the counter was sure to make it clear to everyone who listened that Mollie was the star of the photo display by addressing her directly: “You see here? Clearly your left nipple is slightly more prominent than your right. Do you see that, Mollie?” At first, Mollie replied quietly. “What’s that,” the woman in black would ask. “Speak up.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
It was impossible for Mollie to blush any more. Her humiliation was so complete and so perfect. She was in a constant state of arousal, and her pussy was just about dripping the whole time. Several people asked for copies of the photos. The woman told them to come back and mentioned she would be posting the best on social media. The customers would look Mollie up and down as they spoke, especially the men, of course. Some had come to the store for the special collection, which was most popular on Sundays. Others came in because someone on the street had just told them of the naked photos and of Mollie standing there. It was quite the sensational spectacle.
The older couple purchased the glass bowl and two nasty looking whips. The older woman gripped Mollie’s asscheek hard before she left. “Goodbye, Mollie. I enjoyed seeing you, especially the shots of you eating like a dog. Maybe we will be seeing more of you soon.” The woman behind the counter had promised to make the older couple a copy of Mollie’s photos and maybe even take some new ones. Others asked to pay for a copy, which the woman agreed to. After that, she started offering them for sale and taking orders. At one point she glared at Mollie and said sharply, “You are going to be making a lot of USB drive copies this week!” Then she laughed her cruelest laugh.
The store was only open for short hours on Sundays 10:00 to 2:00. Mollie had been there almost the entire time while her photos were displayed on the computer screen before her. At 2:00, Roger locked the front door. A few people, disappointed latecomers, peered in through the glass door. This had been the store’s busiest Sunday by far.
The woman in black barked at Mollie, “Put your leather outfit on the counter and strip!” Mollie had been holding the leather bikini the whole time. She obeyed immediately. Her little dress dropped gracefully and puddled at her feet. “Step back,” the woman ordered. “I have seen your photos, and now I want to see you in the flesh.” Mollie complied. Two teenaged boys were looking in the door as she took two steps back. She was fully exposed to them. She glanced over to see them laughing and poking each other with their elbows as they leered and hooted. She knew her body would feature in their fantasies for a long, long time. One of them gave a thumbs up. What the hell did that mean? The other started taking photos with his phone through the glass.
Up to then the woman had ignored the boys. Suddenly, she ordered Mollie to walk over to the door and lower the blinds. Mollie shivered with shame at the thought, but, after the briefest of pauses, she did as she was told. The boys at first got excited as she drew closer. They thought she was going to let them in. When they realized what she was doing, they complained and mocked her. “You’re a slut!”
“You’ve got itty-bitty titties!”
“Bitch!”
“Cunt!”
“Whore!”
The woman waved Roger over, and he inspected Mollie closely, slowly walking around her. He whistled one note softly. “Nice,” he said. “Even I might want to take a turn with that body.”
The woman waved him away, and he went back to adjusting the displays. “You know your tits really are small,” she told Mollie. Mollie nodded shyly. “But they’re a nice shape with great nipples even if they are uneven. I like them. You have nice legs too. Turn around.” Mollie slowly pivoted for her. “Your ass could use some meat.” Mollie nodded again. “I like the overall package though, well proportioned.” Mollie continued to look at the floor. “Look at me when I speak to you!” Mollie looked up. “I told you to put that on!” The woman flicked the leather bikini toward her, and Mollie complied. The woman waved Roger over again. “Why don’t we get some new pictures?” Roger chuckled and pulled out his phone. Mollie stood still, eyes down, and Roger circled her again and snapped photos. The woman came from around the counter for the first time and stood before Mollie. “Get down and lick my boots clean.” Mollie dropped without thinking. The woman wore the same pair of boots that Mollie first saw her in. How could she stand all day in those heels? They tasted of wax polish and dirt. They smelled strongly of leather. Mollie had never been used like this in real life, never outside the waking dream world. She was so excited and relieved to be of service that her head was swimming. The woman made her lick each boot thoroughly, even the soles. She pushed each thin heel into Mollie’s willing mouth. Roger took more photos of this display. Then, the woman walked away while Mollie stayed on all fours and Roger kept taking pictures.
The woman came back from the secret room with an object. When she got to Mollie, she dropped a thick black leather leash on the floor by her head with a thump. “Clip that on your collar, dog!” Mollie obeyed. “Hand me the other end.” Mollie held it up to her, and the woman pulled her to standing. “Roger, finish up here. Have a great day. See you tomorrow”
“Yes, ma’am.” Roger grinned and went back to puttering about as the woman led Mollie to the secret room. Once there, she pressed a hidden button, and a latch clicked loudly. The woman pulled on a discreet handle on the side of the back wall, which began to swing open. Mollie could see only darkness. The woman flipped on a light to illuminate stairs leading down to a basement. They started through the door and down the stairs. Mollie was suddenly overwhelmed with terror and froze on the first step. When the woman felt the leash grow taut, she paused and turned back.
“What is wrong, slut? Are you afraid?” Mollie nodded. “Good. I want you afraid. I relish having you frozen with fear, but understand something: you will always obey my command. Follow me!” She tugged sharply on the leash, and Mollie started down the stairs again.
The room was surprisingly large and extended well beyond the footprint of the store. The lights were dim, but Mollie could see it was filled with implements that were similar to those in the waking dream world room where she had been so brutally raped. The ceiling was much higher than one would expect in a basement. In the middle, metal cuffs hung from chains high above a small wooden box. This all looked familiar if not identical.
The woman asked, “Does this remind you of anywhere?” Mollie nodded. “It should.” She gestured toward one item on the side, a padded horse. Mollie shuddered. It was like the one where she had the lesson of her true nature driven home. She expected the woman to deliver one of her customary cruel chuckles, but she remained stony faced. “The master you met through the sculpture, he broke you, right?” Mollie nodded. “He broke your body. He broke your will. He broke your inhibitions. Right?” Mollie bobbed her head. “Did he break your mind? Did he take control?”
Mollie knew the answer immediately, but she indulged herself one last time by playing the narrative in her head. She remembered her master ordering her to find him another. She had obeyed without hesitation or thought. She had betrayed her own boyfriend, a man she was beginning to think of in terms of love, and gave him over willingly. “Yes,” she replied. “He controls my mind.”
The woman stared at her. “Good.” You will never meet him again, of course, but I now know how easily you can be broken. You will not leave this room until I have broken your body, until I have broken your will. You will give me all I desire. I will soon take control of your mind just as he did.”
“Yes.”
“Any questions before we begin?”
Mollie glanced around. There were vicious looking whips and canes and crops on the wall. She knew that in minutes she would be naked, hanging by her wrists while those implements tore into her flesh. Unlike the waking dream world, here she would have no respite. The pain would be real. The damage would be real. This would be no fantasy. Soon she would give herself over as readily, maybe more readily than she did in that place. Soon she would serve this woman without restraint. A week ago, she felt no attraction to any woman, and now she would give her life over to worshipping one. She was already beginning to slip into a perfect servitude. This woman had taken possession of her body and her will. Her mind was ready to be owned too. Her life, her family, and her future would be forgotten. She would be lost in the present, and the thought was exhilarating. Her head spun as a now familiar blend of terror and bliss washed over her.
“I only have one question. What should I call you?”
The woman laughed sarcastically. “Of course. A good practical question. You will call me ‘Mistress.’”