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WARNING!  This story is only for adults over the age of 18 and contains
Strong Sexual Content.  It is intended as a work of fiction for ADULTS
only, and the author does not in any way condone similar behavior.
If you are under the age or 18 or reside in a state that prohibits such 
behavior, stop reading immediately!!!
<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

The High Cost of Used Books
By sfmaster@worldnet.att.net

Archiving permitted, reposting is permitted; but only if you
include this statement of limitation of use and notify the author by
e-mail.
The author forbids you to make, distribute, or sell multiple copies
of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format.
However, individual readers may make single copies of the
story for their own, non-commercial use.

Copyright (c) 1997 by sfmaster@worldnet.att.net

Attn: Readers please feel free to send an e-mail to the author.  I do want
to hear from you!


    	The High Cost of Used Books by sfmaster@worldnet.att.net

    The day had not gone according to plan.  I had supposed to have gone
riding with my friends, but instead had to fill in at our used bookstore. 
Worse, it was now snowing heavily outside at the rates of two inches an
hour, with no letup in sight.

    My family had owned the used bookstore for years, and it gave my family a
pretty good living and had sent me to college.  My education had been paid
for by romance novels, comics, science fiction, and porn.

    I had long since ceased to be embarrased by porn since it was the most
profitable thing that we carried.  Sitting behind the counter I had a good
view of most of the store, but I had a special view of the adult section
which was composed of paperback books, glossy magazines, and videotapes.

    There are two kinds of customers in the adult section: buyers and lookers.
 The buyers could either be nervous or relaxed, but they would at least
purchase something.  The lookers thought that we were some kind of library
where they could just look at every magazine for free and not buy anything.

    So there I was, alone in the store except for one guy in the adult
section.  He was the nervous quiet type, a looker that I can't ever recall
buying anything.  He was glancing through yet another magazine thinking
that I was watching the weather outside instead of watching him.  Except
that this time I noticed that he was holding the magazine in one hand while
his other hand was inside his pants, jerking himself off!

    Exiting from behind the counter, I entered the adult section.  He was so
engrossed in the magazine he didn't hear my silent approach.

    "Just what do you think that you're doing,!" I exclaimed in my loudest
possible voice.

    "Um, ahh, looking at the magazine," he answered, with his hand still down
his pants.

    "Come here, wacko, let me see what you're reading," I ordered.

    He showed me one of the hardcore magazines, which was composed of pictures
of dominatrixes clad in black leather outfits tying up naked men and women.
 I had long since ceased to be interested in things like that, but it had
provided for some interesting reading and some college papers.

    "Now you're going to come behind the counter with me while I decide what
to do with you," I yelled.

    "Yes, mistress," he answered.

    So he thought that I was his mistress did he?  Grabbing both him and the
magazine, I pulled him from the adult section through the swinging doors
and around the counter.  Behind the counter was the cash register plus some
of the collectables for the serious booklover.

    Ordinarily I would have just thrown him out and told him never to return. 
But he seemed so meek and with the storm outside I knew that we weren't
going to have more customers that day.

    "On you knees, worm," I ordered as I held the magazine in one hand and my
riding crop in the other.

    "Yes, Mistress," he answered, sinking to the floor in front of me.

    "I'm tired of seeing you come in here and treating this place like a free
library.  You either buy this magazine like a man, or you never come in
again.  Understand?  How could you never buy something,?" I demanded.

    "My wife would never permit it," he answered.

    "Your wife would never permit it," I replied, mocking his tone, "Well,
we're not a free adult library, you either buy something or never show up
here again.  Unless....," I began to wonder out loud, "You serve me the way
they do in the magazine."

    "How,?" he stammered.

    Arranging myself on the stool I lifted my skirt and showed him my black
leather riding boots that I had so lovingly cleaned an polished
anticipating a day of riding.

    "Lick my boots," I order.

    He was attracted to the gleaming black leather and gradually started to
lean over and lick the black leather.  Intensely aroused myself, I pulled
him between my legs and watched as he continued to lick at the leather.  I
tapped him on the shoulder with my riding crop.

    "I'll bet that this is the way you've always wanted to be, isn't it," I
began, "Kneeling at the feet of some beautiful woman, licking at her
leather boots.  Isn't that right?"

    "Yes, Mistress," he answered.

    "Now pull those pants down and lets look at that prick of yours," I
ordered.
    He complied and undid his pants, then pulled the elastic of his his
underpants down.  He had a huge prick, which was erect and stiff.  I'd
never seen a prick like that, and was sure that his wife wasted the guy's
best asset.

    "Don't you cum till I command you, slave," I sternly ordered.

    I reached over and got a regular adult magazine that I was about to price,
and threw it on the floor in front of him.  It opened to a picture of a
naked girl with her legs spread and her pussy exposed.

    "Don't you dare soil a magazine of dominants with your cum," I told him,
"If you must jerk off, do it with a mag of sluts!"

    He grasped his swollen prick in his hand and I watched as he proceeded to
climax all over the opened magazine.  His come squirted in strong bursts on
the magazine, sticking to the color pages and reflecting the neon lighting
of the shop.

    I had never watched a man cum like that before, and I was getting more
aroused every second.  Then it occured to me what to do next.

    "Get over here, slave," I ordered, "And bend over this footstool!"

    Once in position, I got up off my chair and circled him, holding the
riding crop.  I tried to looking menacing just like the dominats in the
magazines that I had read.

    "For getting off slave, I'm going to punish that butt of yours.  Normally
I'd use this crop on my horse, but you'll do for a substitute!"

    I began to strike his behind with the crop.  First I'd use the leather
thong on the end, then the main rod.  I'd alternate between one buttock,
then the other.  With each stroke, he moaned quietly.

    "I'll just bet that you're getting off on this, aren't you,?" I demanded.

    "Yes, Mistress."

    I grabbed a plastic glove and placed it on my free hand, then reached
between his legs.  I found that again his prick was swollen with desire! 
Pulling at the swollen prick with one hand, I beat his butt with the riding
crop in the other.  I'd never been so sexually aroused myself before, and
knew that I was wet between my legs.

    "Don't you come till I order, slave,!" I cried.

    "Yes, Mistress," he shakily replied.

    With each stroke of the crop I felt that his prick was getting harder and
stronger.  For a wimp, he was hung like a horse!  I wanted his prick nice
and hard before I'd let him shoot his load!

    "That's better," I ordered, "Just wait till now!"

    With my gloved hand around his prick I gasped as his swollen cock squirted
come all over the plastic footstool.  His cock pulsed with each climax,
sending jets of milky fluid onto the drab floor.

    "Oh, oh," he moaned, grateful for the release of his sexual tension.

    "That's good slave.  Next time we'll do better.  Now lick my boots for a
while and properly thank your mistress for the punishment that you
deserve!"

    "Yes, Mistress," he quickly answered.

    I let him lick and kiss my boots again, getting really turned on watching
him make love to the leather.  I'd heard about the fetish crowd, but never
believed that it could be real!

    Looking outside, I suddenly realized that it was dark by now and there was
a ton of snow outside.  I watched as a plow drove by, and realized that it
was time to go home.

    I stood up and went to the supplies cabinet.  I motioned him over, and
ordered him to mop up the mess he'd made with his come.  He complied
instantly, even though he had to clean it with his pants hanging down
around his ankles.  Every step that he took was hobbled, making him take
baby steps.

    When he was done and everything stowed away, I stood in front of him with
the riding crop, meancing him once again.

    "All right, slave, pull your pants up.  I don't imagine that you're going
to get any use of that cock of yours tonight.  It's about time that you
finally served a woman who understands your real needs."

    "Yes, Mistress," he answered as he pulled up his pants and closed his
belt.

    "Now get your coat and get out of here.  And the next time that I see you
here, you better be man enough to buy an adult magazine and bring it home. 
Or I'll take this riding crop and really beat the shit out you!"

    "Yes, Mistress."

    I watched as he put on his coat and virtually fled my store.  It took a
few moments to get rid of the cum soaked magazine and tidy up so that my
parents wouldn't know that anything strange had occured.

    I grabbed the hardcore magazine that he had been reading and placed it in
my handbag.  That would make for some fascinating reading tonight.  I was
wet just thinking about leather clad women.  And maybe I'd become one.

    			The End 
    



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