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Subject: The Thing Inside the Bookshelf (2/3) (Silly, M/f Mast)
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	  This is the second part in a silly series that pokes a
little fun at H.P. Lovecraft.  This story is mine so feel free to
archive, save or delete.  As always,  comments,  opinions, suggestions
and hate mail are always welcome and you can visit my website at
http://members.aol.com/LordShon/index.html and let my counter record
your interest.  Part 1 of the Bookshelf story had the largest website
response of all my stories.  I blame the Elder Gods for that one.

	The Thing Inside the Bookshelf part 2

By Shon Richards


	Abigail had just been enjoying a mystical erotic moment with a
being who had emerged from a bookshelf.  Unfortunately he had
dissappeared when her boss walked in, leaving her on the floor.  She
was lying there, her underwear tossed on the floor, her hair down and
her skirt and shirt pulled up.  She had serious doubts about keeping
her librarian job for much longer.

	"What the Hell are you doing in the Women's Studies section?"
asked an astonished Robert Armitage.  He was mentally willing his
erection away but it wasn't easy.  He had no idea her tits were so
big.  I mean he had had his suspicions, but to actually see them was
to confirm the existence of a God simply because they were so
beautiful.  Judging by how round and firm they were, God also had to
be a male because only a divine male could create such perfection. 

	Abigail was scrambling on the ground to collect her underwear
and found herself having to make an excuse for her bad behavior for
the first time in her life.  Not to mention she had this incredible
urge to keep masturbating.  It was like her seducer had left an
emptiness in her.

	"Well umm, Mr. Armitage sir, I was walking behind here, and I
was by myself and I saw someone had left a bra on the floor.  And
umm....." babbled the confused Abigail.

	Robert's own erotic imagination finished the story for her.

	"Oh, I've had those kind of moments myself.  It's nothing to
be embarrassed about Abigail.  Sometimes when I'm alone in the library
and surrounded by all these books, I feel like a thousand writers are
watching me."

	Abigail was standing now, holding her underwear behind her as
she tried to figure out where Mr. Armitage was going with this line of
reasoning.

	"In fact," he continued, "I once masturbated twice one night
in the Modern Culture section.  I have to admit it was pretty exciting
to be having sex in front of books of Marilyn Monroe and Madonna.
It's perfectly normal for librarians, in fact we publish a private
newsletter for it."

	Abigail considered explaining to him about her magical lover,
but decided that it would be easier if she agreed to his story
instead.  After receiving a handful of embarrassing tips on which
areas of the library were best for seclusion, she promised to be more
careful in the future and to keep her panties on if they weren't
crotchless.  He left her alone after saying he would forward the
online librarian masturbation newsletter to her.

	The next day found Abigail sitting in one of the secluded
places Robert had mentioned, the basement study cubicle next to the
1940's chemistry books.  She had a stack of occult books next to her
and she was currently trying to make sense out of Prin's De Vermis
Mysterious (Golden Reader Edition).  It was even harder to read
because one hand was holding an ice pack under her skirt, pressed
against her sex.

	Normally Abigail would get aroused maybe once a month, usually
while watching Nightline, but last night had been different.  She
found herself grinding into her sofa while watching a cologne
commercial.  Her underwear had been too much for her sensitive sex so
she had discarded them.  To Abigail's suprise she nearly touched
herself five times during Nightline.  She had had to resort to placing
a box of ice cream in her lap to cool her ardor.

	Sleeping had been a challenge.  Everytime she fell asleep she
would have dreams about all the men in her life she had avoided, such
as Alvin Chester, her High School Chess Club Chairman who had never
asked her out.  In her dream she ended up with his Bishop inside her
Rook.  She immediately awoke from that dream and took a cold shower.

	When she fell asleep again, she dreamed of Barry Anderson,
the attractive black man who ran the bookstore she would go to in
college.  He always was such a gentleman with her, treating her like
gold and discussing the downfall of modern fiction.  Only this time,
in her dream they ended up trying new positions out of the Kuma Satra.
Once again when she woke up, it was for another shower.

	And so the night went on.  Her next door neighbor, her college
history teacher, the mailman, the handymen from her last job and many
others all had starring roles in Abigail's erotic dreams.  Her skin
became wrinkled from all the showers she kept taking, not to mention
the shivering from all the cold water.  Despite her many icy attempts,
she had to sleep on her hands to prevent masturbation.

	Since morning, she had been fighting the urge to masturbate.
Worse, masturbating seemed to be the least of her sins.  At one point
she found her eyes wondering to her boss's pants wondering how much of
a bulge he had there.  Abigail knew if she didn't do something about
this soon, she would end up a bigger slut than her employer at the
brothel had been.

	Abagail collected all the occult books the Molloky County
Library had to offer.  She also did some research into who contributed
that starnge and mysterious bookshelf.  And as a temporary solution,
she also carried with her a bag of ice cubes she was saving in the
library lounge.  So far she had skimmed twelve occult books, four
donation record books and about eight of the ice cubes in her lap.
	
	Among the records she found that Obediah Whatley had donated
the black bookshelf with the runes to the library in 1932.  She also
found records that stated that Obediah had donated the bookshelf right
before he was hanged for killing young women.  Apparently his donation
was an attempt to make amends before his death.  Abigail noted they
never found the bodies of the women.

	She paused to place another ice cube on her crotch, for the
others had already melted.  After trying to sooth her hungry sex, she
had turned to look through the occult books.  Those that she could
read that was.

	The Book of Iod seemed to be written by a maniac with a fetish
for bells and the dark.  She turned to the Seven Cryptical Books of
Hsan but she couldn't read Chinese and the pictures of sinister octupi
seemed silly.  She wasn't impressed by Nasty Monsters of Newark or
Cliffnotes of the Necronomicon.  She was about to give up when she saw
one with a catchy title.  It was called "The Sixty-Nine Sins of Sister
Sarah Bedford".  She set it in front of her and opened it up.

	She took one look inside and slammed the book shut, her cheeks
bright red in a blush.  The ice in her lap melted very quickly.
Abigail closed her eyes and tried to banish the image she saw from her
mind.  She recited the Dewey decimal system to no avail.  For the rest
of her days, Abigail would wonder how so many women could be balanced
on one picket fence and not loose their balance.  Not to mention where
they get so much wax.

	Abigail considered giving up her research into the occult and
finding a new job.  But she thought about how she only got this job
because her mother knew Mr. Armitage from church.  If she quit, she
might have to explain a few unpleasent things.  Besides, Abigail was
tired of being fired or running from jobs, this time she was going to
make her stand.  Finally, if she didn't continue her research, she
might never stop this desire she felt in her sex and end up a hooker
or something.

	Placing another ice cube under her skirt, she tried again.
Averting her eyes at every illustration, she slowly skimmed through
the Sixty-Nine Sins looking for something that pertained to her
plight.  

	The book was an account of a nun who fell under dark powers
and became the most perverse woman ever burned at the stake.
Strangely,  her notes were collected, bound together and given
illustrations and sold among the Vatican where it became a best
seller.  Abigail was not suprised.

	She scanned through the index and was startled to see the
listing "Demonic and Sexual Shelves- page 323".  She flipped to the
page and added another ice cube to herself.  What she read was clear
and concise with a few notes someone added in the margin.  

	"Know that in ancient times the Great Ole One named ShubSexpot
of the Thousand Nipples and Six Holes was accosted by the Lesser New
One, Cockullu of the Talented Appendage and he did take pleasure from
her for five centuries and two hours. (Here someone wrote "That's
shorter than when AzoPrick mated with the Deep Throat Ones). In
revenge ShubSexpot imprisoned Cockullu in a book shelf made of Strange
Wood from the Stars.  He may emerge when he smells the scent of a
woman, but can only be released permenently from his curse by
fornicating no less than with a thousand, thousand women. (At the
mention of so many women,  someone wrote "Lucky guy" in the margins)
Only a female may release him for the seed of a male is deadly to him.

	And it came to pass that ShubSexpot was consumed with longing
for Cockullu despite his emprisonment and she did copulate with Great
Yog-sofat, Hastur the Unsuckable and some lucky creatures from distant
Alderan in an orgy that lasted six decades and two days.  She broke
the curse of wantoness by summoning Cockullu out of his bookshelf long
enough to make him gaze upon the Elder Symbol Of Limpness and the
curse fell away. (and here someone scribbled "Page 211 of De Vermis
Mysterious")"

	Abigail read further as Sister Sarah Bedford told of her
search for a black wood bookshelf with strange runic writings and a
tendency to make women sexual wneches forever after.  Sister Sarah
never found the bookshelf, and regretted it always.  Abigail then
turned in De Vermis Mysterious to the page listed and saw a drawing of
an arcane symbol with a long rod that curves to the ground.

	Abigail sat for a moment and considered what she had read.
Was there really ancient creatures who were locked in furniture?
Would photocopying the drawing be enough to stop the creature?  Did
she nearly release an evil being by sleeping with it?  She had her
doubts, but was soon horrified to find she had run out of ice!

	She went to stand up and sweet fire traveled through her body.
her desire was stronger than anything she had ever felt before and she
stood there as still as she can be.  Her sex was immensely hot and
when she took a step she was forced to sit back down.  The motion of
her legs had created a friction in her sex that was impossible to
ignore.  Abigail had a vision of herself trying to use the zerox
machine in this condition and it wasn't a pretty picture.  Desperate
measures were called for.

	She looked around to make sure she was alone.  Then, biting
her lip, she reached under her skirt.  Her trembling finger guided
itself to between her legs.  She was shocked as she felt how moist her
curly hair was.  A tremor moved through her body as her finger parted
the wet hair to touch her delta lips.  She ran her finger along her
opening,  partly because she was stalling and partly because it just
felt so good.  She tilted her head back and uttered a low moan as her
finger caressed her slick inner lips.

	With a start she sat up and pulled her hand free.  A blush
spread from her face down her neck.  She was completly embarrassed
with herself yet at the same time knowing she could not stop now.  She
looked at her finger accusingly and was distressed by how well it
shined in the light.  The wet lubrication revealed just how
unstoppable her situation was.  Abigail remembered reading in a
Reader's Digest her mother had given her that masturbation among women
caused split ends.  As well as leading to harder sexual abuse like
dildos, cucumbers and small animals.  Although Abigail was wiser now,
she still was terrified of what path she was leading down.  

	"Oh well," Abigail said miserably, "At least I know what
really causes split ends.  And maybe if I only do it once, I can go
cold turkey before I start haunting pet stores."

	Closing her eyes, she reached under her skirt again.  This
time she used her entire hand to part herself with.  Her legs spread
themselves wider and she leaned back in the chair.  Her fingertips
pushed her sex open and Abigail was amazed at the heat she felt there.
As two of her fingers slid into herself, Abigail felt more alive than
she had ever before. 

	Her toes curled inside her shoes as she began thrusting inside
her self.  The friction of her fingers was delicious and Abigail
shifted her legs wider in response.  As her rubbing became more
intense, she became aware of every sensation on her body.  The way her
bra clung to her breasts, the pressure of her nipples straining to be
touched, the feeling of her skirt pressing her bare buttocks and the
air conditioner hitting her face when she tilted her head, all of this
helped Abigail feel incredibly sensual.

	With her other hand, she reached and touched that most sinful
of places acording to that long ago Reader's Digest.  Her clitoris was
a hard bud when she touched it gingerly and she was amazed when her
finger slid off of it from the slickness.  Even more amazing was the
electricity that ran through her when she touched it.  More carefully
this time, she rouched it with new found respect and began gently
rubbing it.  With one hand on her clit and another inside her sex, her
breathing became a ragged mess.  Anigail was self-concious enough to
not moan too loudly, but the sounds of her wet slick hand were
impossible to quiet.

	Abigail had her eyes closed tight and before her erotic images
flashed through her mind.  As her thumb rolled over her clit, she
imagined a tongue there.  Her sheltered mind easily conjured up how
the tongue would roll her clit around softly and gently.  Her hips
were buckling upwards as her body succumbed to pleasure.  Her mind was
racing through an entire cast of lovers, some real and unfufilled
while others were strangers Abigail had seen but never met.  They all
appeared breifly in her mind, each taking a delightful lick of her
hard, moist bud.  

	Abigail felt a tremendous pressure well up inside her.  Her
throat was sore from her heavy breathing but she didn't care.  Her
hand was stroking with a rythym she didn't know she had and finally
she came in a long searing orgasm.  She lifted her head up and slowly
bent over forward, her mouth open in sweet shock.  Her hand froze
inside her and she took a moment to uncurl her toes.  As she pulled
her fingers out,  she felt another tremor rack her body as her over
sensitive sex cried out for more.

	Abigail pulled her skirt down and looked at her shining
fingers.  She had been around sluts at the brothel long enough to know
that she was supposed to lick her fingers now, but she decided to just
go wash up.  And then she would go make a photocopy of that mystic
symbol and be rid of this curse.

	When she stood up, she saw the huge wet stain on chair.
Horrified, she examined her skirt and saw the stain on her backside.
Her face reaching new levels of blushing, she ran off to the washroom.

To be continued



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