The Chronicles Of Power

Molly’s stomach hurt. Her legs hurt too. Spending hours squatting the day before had been agony. She had needed to pee almost the entire time, but her body had simply locked up. The longer Ma’am waited, the harder it became. In the end, to the guests’ applause, she had managed to force out only a few pitiful drops.

The stomachache, however, wasn’t new. She had lived with it for years. Molly had always been a good girl. She never caused trouble, never took up too much space, and never talked back. Whatever was asked of her, she did her best. Even so, it always felt as though something was missing. An emptiness she could never quite fill. She didn’t know exactly what she was searching for, only that she rarely felt truly alive.

How it all began was almost an accident. She had been at a friend’s house one evening while her friend sat at the computer playing an online casino game as they chatted. It seemed like nothing more than a way to pass the time. In the middle of a game, her friend’s phone rang. Before leaving the room, she smiled at Molly.

“Try a few spins if you want.” That was all.

Molly clicked. And she was hooked instantly. It felt as though her whole body came alive. Her heart raced, her hands grew warm, and every small win sent a thrill through her stomach. She had never felt anything like it.

The very next day, she opened an account of her own. After that, gambling took over. The intense rush of those first few weeks eventually faded, but the craving remained. She played more often. For longer. For larger sums. Everyday life, which had already felt gray and empty, became almost unbearable whenever she wasn’t gambling. The only thing that could still make her feel anything was the next spin.

The stakes grew. So did the losses. Eventually, everything fell apart.

She hadn’t gambled since. Even so, nothing had gotten better. Life once again felt empty, colorless, and meaningless. And hanging over everything was the guilt. She owed a hundred thousand dollars. Money she had taken from her parents without their knowledge.

Whenever she thought of them, a sharp pain twisted in her stomach. Her kind, caring parents. Deceived by their own daughter.

Molly had been living and working for Sir and Ma’am for a little over six months now. Time behaved strangely in the house. Some days crawled by in agonizing slow motion, while others were over before she realized they had begun. She could endure the work.

Ma’am’s meticulous schedules had become part of everyday life. She had also learned to endure the guests, who treated her like a piece of furniture and occasionally let their hands linger a little too long. She She remembered both times Lucy and Ivan had sex in front of everyone, and she suspected Tamara had experienced something similar. She thought that if her turn ever came, she might even be able to endure that as well.

But Penelope… Penelope she couldn’t endure. What had happened in the guest room a few months earlier remained painfully vivid. All she had to do was close her eyes and she was back there. She remembered the shame. The helplessness. Above all, she knew that the photograph of her face, with the little ball of stuffing still tucked between her buttocks, was still circulating among Penelope’s friends. The thought sat in her stomach like a stone.

She took a deep breath and pushed the serving cart down the corridor toward the small drawing room. It was time to serve Sir’s and Ma’am’s lunch. And Penelope’s. She had arrived from college the day before, while Molly had still been squatting there. She hadn’t said much. Mostly, she had simply sat and watched her with that small, satisfied smile.

Now the three of them sat comfortably around the small table. Sunlight streamed through the windows, glinting off the glasses. The silverware lay perfectly arranged on the white linen tablecloth. Molly began serving lunch. She carefully set out the plates, glasses, silverware, and serving dishes. Every movement was calm and deliberate. She didn’t want to give anyone a reason to criticize her.

“Oh, poor Molly,” Ma’am said with feigned sympathy. “Having to stand like that for so long yesterday.”

Sir and Penelope nodded almost in unison. “If you’d simply peed right away, you could have avoided all that,” Sir said, spreading his hands helplessly.

The words were out before Molly had time to think. “I wish I’d thought of that, Sir.”

The sarcasm was unmistakable. Far too subtle for a man to notice, Sir simply smiled kindly. But Ma’am noticed. So did Penelope. Molly saw their expressions change at almost the same moment. The smiles remained, but something behind them hardened.

Silence settled over the room. Penelope suddenly lit up. “I know!” She smiled broadly. “You can come shopping with me after lunch. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

Ma’am raised an eyebrow. Penelope continued without waiting for a reply. “You know i’m going to Europe for two months, and I need something to wear. If you help me, it’ll go much faster.”

Sir nodded approvingly. Ma’am did the same. “What an excellent idea,” she said. “Lucy and Tamara can take over your duties while you’re gone.” She smiled at Molly. “Then it’s settled.”

The conversation drifted back to lunch. Molly remained standing with her hands loosely clasped in front of her. Another heavy stone settled in her stomach.

A few hours later, Stephen dropped them off at the shopping mall. Enormous and luxurious it stood by the beach, about halfway to the city. Outside palm trees swayed in the breeze, while rows of expensive cars lined the entrances or disappeared into the underground parking garage. Everything seemed to sparkle as they stepped into the cool, perfectly air-conditioned building. The place was packed with people, and the stores all carried names Molly had never even heard of.

Penelope moved through it as though she owned the place. Molly did not. She was dressed almost exactly like Penelope: a short crop top, cute shorts, and flip-flops. Everything came from brands unknown for Molly.

As they passed a shop window, Molly caught sight of her reflection. For a moment, she almost stopped. She and Penelope looked like two friends the same age out shopping together. Not employer and employee. Not one giving orders and one obeying them. The image felt strangely… normal. For just a moment, she almost liked it. Then they kept walking.

The shopping trip unfolded entirely on Penelope’s terms. She wandered into nearly every store they passed, demanded the staff’s full attention, tried on outfit after outfit, and bought a little here and a little there without so much as glancing at the price tags. All the while, she talked nonstop about her upcoming trip to Europe. Paris. Milan. Barcelona.

Molly’s role was simple. She walked half a step behind, carrying the shopping bags. As time went on, there were more and more bags. They dug into her fingers and knocked against her legs with every step. Before long, she felt less like a person than a pack mule.

After what felt like hours, Penelope came to an abrupt stop. “We’re about halfway through,” she said with satisfaction. “I think we’ve earned a coffee break.”

They settled into a secluded booth at the mall café. Molly sank onto the bench with a weary sigh. She was hot, her legs still ached from all the walking—and from squatting the day before—and her hands throbbed from carrying so many bags. Penelope ordered a large iced coffee and leaned back comfortably. It never even seemed to occur to her to ask whether Molly wanted anything.

She kept talking. Her stories drifted from people to vacations to random events without any obvious connection. Molly did her best to follow along. She nodded at the right moments and smiled whenever it seemed expected. Eventually, she lost track. The words dissolved into background noise.

“Well?” Penelope’s voice suddenly cut through the murmur of the café. Molly flinched.

“Wha… I’m sorry?” She hadn’t heard the question.

Penelope’s smile had disappeared. Her face had hardened, and her pale eyes carried the cold, watchful look Molly had learned to recognize. “I said, take off your shorts. Now.”

Molly just stared. “W-what? My shorts?”

Penelope held out her hand. “Now.”

Molly glanced around. There was no way out of this. The booth shielded them completely from view. Maybe she’d get them back before they left. Awkwardly, she slipped out of her shorts and handed them over.

Penelope folded them neatly. “And your panties.”

Molly felt her stomach drop. Penelope’s smile returned as she accepted those as well. Then she simply resumed talking and sipping her iced coffee.

Before long, the break was over. Penelope smiled, stood, took Molly’s shorts and panties, and dropped them into a trash can. “Coming?” she asked cheerfully as she walked away.

Molly looked around in panic. The bags. The shopping bags. This could work. She arranged them around herself like a wall. It worked.

Slowly, she followed Penelope from one store to the next. They seemed endless. All the while, more bags were added. The wall kept growing. At last, there were no more stores to visit. Penelope looked around with a satisfied smile and gave a small nod to herself. She finally seemed to be finished.

They took the elevator down to the parking garage, where Stephen was already waiting beside the car. Without a word, Stephen began loading the shopping bags. The trunk quickly filled, and whatever wouldn’t fit, he stacked neatly in the back seat.

Penelope slipped into the car beside him. She looked at Molly, sighed theatrically, and slowly shook her head. “No,” she said. “I don’t think there’s room for you.”

Molly stared at her in confusion. “Stephen can come back for you later.”

“B-but…” Molly stammered, pointing toward the empty front passenger seat. “There…”

Penelope laughed as though Molly had said something absurd. “In the front seat? That simply wouldn’t be appropriate.”

She pulled the door shut with a firm slam, leaving Molly standing outside. The engine started, and the car began to roll away. After only a few yards, it stopped again. The tinted rear window slowly slid down, and Penelope reached a hand through the opening. “Your crop top, please,” she said with a smile. “See you in a couple of months.”

Then the car disappeared up the ramp and out of the parking garage. Molly remained where she was, alone, naked except for a pair of flip-flops. The vast parking garage echoed around her. These were going to be some very long hours. There was nowhere obvious to hide.

She began moving cautiously between the concrete pillars, half-crouched, her eyes constantly searching her surroundings. Every sound made her freeze. Her heart pounded so hard she could almost hear it, and the metallic taste of blood filled her mouth. At first, she managed. She slipped from pillar to pillar, keeping to the shadows and avoiding the open spaces.

As she rounded one of the pillars and glanced over her shoulder, a startled gasp came from directly ahead. A family stood only a few yards away. The mother looked horrified and immediately covered her son’s eyes with both hands. The father, meanwhile, remained where he was, a broad smile spreading across his face that made Molly feel sick.

She turned and ran. A car horn blared. Inside, a group of teenagers shouted, laughed, and waved at her. Molly ran faster. A group of elderly tourists stared after her in disbelief as she rushed past.

She looked around desperately and finally spotted a large trash bin behind a row of parked cars. Throwing herself down behind it, she curled into a tight ball, drawing her knees to her chest and trying to make herself as small as possible. Her breathing came in ragged gasps, but her pulse refused to slow. If only she’d never started gambling. If only she’d never borrowed that first hundred dollars. She wouldn’t be here.

Curled up behind the trash bin, she cursed herself. Why had her life felt so empty that she’d needed to fill it with an addiction? Why couldn’t she have been like everyone else?

Seconds felt like hours. She was beginning to get cold. A sound made her flinch. Someone was standing in front of her. Slowly, she looked up.

A large man stood a few yards away, staring at her. Molly scrambled to her feet, desperately searching for a way out. There. A gap between two parked cars. She had barely taken a step before another man appeared, blocking her path.

She spun around. The two men started toward her with slow, deliberate steps. The smiles on their faces sent a fresh wave of panic crashing over her. She was trapped. There was nowhere to run. This was it.

“OI! PISS OFF!”

Stephen’s voice tore through the parking garage. The two men turned. He came toward them between the cars with a lug wrench held low beside his leg. He didn’t wave it or threaten them with it. He didn’t need to.

His eyes moved quickly over both men, the space between them and the cars on either side. Then he shifted slightly, placing himself where neither could get behind him. The movement was small, almost casual, but there was something practiced about it. His shoulders were loose. His steps were quick and even. Only the set of his jaw showed how angry he was.

One of the men took a step back. Stephen kept coming. The other glanced at his friend, and whatever he saw there made the decision for both of them. Their faces had gone pale. They turned and ran.

Stephen stood still for a moment, watching until they disappeared. Then he looked at Molly.

His whole manner changed. The wrench dropped to his side and his shoulders softened. He approached her more slowly now, as though afraid that one sudden movement might frighten her. A blanket hung over his other arm. Without a word, he wrapped it around her, tucked it carefully beneath her chin and rested one hand lightly between her shoulders as he led her toward the car.

It was parked crooked across two spaces, the driver’s door still open. Stephen never parked crooked. He never left doors open. The engine ticked loudly, the radiator hissed beneath the hood, and the air smelled of hot metal and overheated brakes. Stephen, who never seemed to be in a hurry, had been in one today.