Molly on the Cross

Molly screamed. She screamed loud and long. No one heard. No one came to her assistance. Her employer, Mr. Ingram had her bound to to heavy wooden cross. She could barely move.

Mr. Ingram left the girl and went to a large wooden box set against the far wall. He returned with a most evil smile. "Later, bitch, I'll use this on you." He held up a black ball covered with long, sharp spikes. Two leather straps hung down from the ball. "A most painful gag. The more one screams, the deeper the spikes are driven into the victims tongue and mouth. Some of these spikes are two inches in length." He set the gag down on the table. "But that is not for today. Today, I will enjoy your fruitless screams. In time, you will learn to be silent. But today, your pathetic cries will only serve to excite me further."

The man was a beast. A monster. Molly realized that she was helpless and totally at the mercy of this monster. And, she trembled with fear, obviously he was not one to show mercy.

Mr. Ingram returned holding a long, sword-like instrument. "This is razor-sharp and most flexible," with a flip of his wrist he swished the sword through the air. "Remain still!"

Molly's eyes, filled with tears, watched in absolute terror as the man began sliding the sword across her black, cotton skirt. After several cuts, fragments of the skirt began falling to the cold, stone floor. Mr. Ingram exercised great care; it took a long time before every stitch of the skirt had been cut was. Molly remained on the cross now dressed in her blouse, camisole, pantaloons, black cotton stockings, and sturdy black shoes.

"What shall I remove next?" Mr, Ingram stood smiling in front of the helpless girl. "This is more exciting than a child unwrapping gifts at Christmas!"