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This is a work of adult fiction, and is not intended for minors, any persons likely to be offended by explicit erotic content, or for distribution in any area where possession may violate laws or community standards.
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Story codes: M+F+ mild ws mild femdom
Note: This is a complete story, intended to stand on its own. Loosely related stories may or may not follow.
"May I help you?" The librarian smiled broadly up at Matt.
He cleared his throat. He had difficulty talking to extremely attractive
women. "I'm doing a paper on outsider art. That is
She nodded briskly. Her green-tinted grey eyes were framed severely by the dark plastic of her glasses. "That'd be in 704. We don't have much, but I'll show you what we do have. If you'll follow me?"
Her skirt was cornflower blue. Its length was modest, but the way it hugged her hips wasn't. Her brown hair hung in a single long braid, bisecting the back of her white blouse. At first Matt tried not to stare at her ass as she walked, but he found the sway of her hips too compelling.
She led him to the back wall, then up three flight of stairs. Matt was a little ashamed of himself, but he hung back a few steps behind her to improve his vantage point. The clatter of her heels on the steps echoed harshly from the hard flat walls of the stairwell. Her legs were muscular under her dark blue fishnet tights.
The fourth floor seemed little used; the lights overhead were dim and flickery. The musty smell of old knowledge hung in the air. Matt followed the librarian through a wide aisleway with ranks of shelves on either side, then deep into the stacks, down an aisle between two shelves, to the last bookcase, next to the wall. She indicated one of the middle shelves. Her nails were well-manicured but cut quite short. They matched the hue of her skirt almost exactly. "Most of it is here, but there are some oversized volumes on the bottom shelf." She bent over to point one out, and her butt nearly touched the front of Matt's pants. He was already half-hard. "Perhaps you might find this folio of particular interest."
The aisle was wide enough for three people to stand abreast, but still she brushed against him as she stood. "Good luck with your research," she said as she left him.
Matt dutifully looked at the regular volumes first. Two were general surveys, too vague to be useful to him. One focused exclusively on the work of patients in mental hospitals. Another looked more promising. He set it aside on an empty stretch of shelf and crouched to investigate the oversized editions.
The book the librarian had recommended had a spine unlabelled except for a nearly illegible catalog number. It was very heavy. Despite the care with which he pulled it out, one of its leaves slipped onto the carpet immediately.
Matt looked around with reflexive guilt. Behind him, after the aisle ended, another unoccupied row of shelves stretched away in rigid one-point perspective. This corner of the floor seemed quite deserted. No one had seen.
He opened the book and realized it wasn't really a book at all, only a sort of heavy folder enclosing a sheaf of unbound plates. He picked up the fallen leaf.
The paper was of heavy stock and lightly glossy. The image on the plate he held was a kaleidoscopic abstract divided into four symmetrical quarters. It was bold, but not particularly good.
Matt set the back of the folder on the ground and opened it up with its front leaning at an angle against the wall, so he could flip through the plates. The second was a similar abstraction. Matt turned the plate he held over to see if there was any explanatory text or an indication of sequence, but its reverse was blank.
Matt set the page he'd dropped against the front of the folder. He flipped through the first dozen or so images impatiently. They were all similar: obsessively symmetrical, but undisciplined; riots of color and shape executed with obvious care, but to no obvious purpose. Without context they were of no value to his paper, and they held little intrinsic interest.
Then he stopped short, confronted by an image of an entirely different sort. He couldn't tell if it was a painting or a photograph. The limited color palette and sheer drama of the lighting suggested the former, but when Matt held the plate close to his face and squinted at it he saw no evidence of brush strokes.
It was not the sort of picture one expected to see in a library. The scene was lit by a trio of blazing floodlights on the left. In the center foreground a woman was kneeling, her back arched, head back, and hands wrapped around her stiletto heels. Her skirt was of shiny black vinyl or rubber. A sleeveless sheath of the same material clung to her torso, baring the tops of her breasts. It was thin enough and tight enough that her erect nipples were very evident. Nothing of the background could be distinguished except a vague suggestion of poles supporting the lights. The foreground surface was anonymously dark.
On the right-hand side stood three men. They were dressed in what looked like thick, dark grey tape wrapped in parallel diagonal strips around their torsos and limbs, as if they were mummies. A single strip of tape slashed across each face, exposing the mouth and a single eye. They wore leathery black boots. Their privates were uncovered, and each of the men held his half-hard cock in one gloved hand.
Looking at the scene, Matt felt his own penis twitch as it continued to stiffen.
He studied the plate for some time. The woman's arms were bare and the harsh light emphasized the tension of her muscles. Although her face was mostly obscured, she had an aspect of intense concentration and expectation. The stance of the three men was vaguely menacing.
The image on the next leaf was even more shocking. Matt was a little surprised at how his prick continued to throb in his pants, but he couldn't deny the unexpected and perverse eroticism of the picture.
The same woman was kneeling, facing the viewer. Her position was more relaxed. Her knees were far enough apart to stretch her glistening skirt taut between her thighs. One arm was thrown across her eyes, again concealing much of her face. Her mouth was frozen in a laugh of delight and exuberance.
Two of the men stood at either side of her, visible only from the waist down at the two edges of the page. They were urinating on the woman's chest.
Matt could see where the pale arcs of fluid reached the woman, just below her collarbone. Some of the liquid streaked down the outside of her top, and some ran into the hollow between her breasts and down toward her belly.
Matt was startled to find himself wondering what it might feel like. Rather like the jet of a shower, he thought. Comfortably warm and moist, but spiked with the piquancy of the forbidden. He surprised himself by thinking it might be very exciting. There seemed little doubt that the woman was enjoying it greatly.
Matt flipped the page up against the others leaning on the front of the folio. He was breathing quite heavily.
The third image in the sequence was shown from a vantage point behind the woman. Her shoulder blades rose from the shiny black material like vestigial wings. Her black hair was cut close, baring her neck completely. She was kneeling upright now, leaning forward.
One of the men stood ahead of her and to her left. He was pissing on the ground in front of her. In the reverse three-quarter view, Matt could just see the suggestion of a smile in the line of her cheek, and the tip of her tongue extended millimeters from the yellow curve.
Matt looked around him again. The aisle was still deserted. He heard no one nearby. He gently squeezed his cock and balls through his pants and rubbed his hand up and down against his erection.
He stared at the curve of the woman's ass, revealed where it pressed against her skirt, the bulge of calf muscle under the blue mesh of her stockings, and the nape of her neck, left bare under a fringe of short black hair. But his eyes kept drifting back to the tantalizingly narrow gap between the stream of urine and her outstretched tongue.
After a while, Matt flipped the page up against the others. It struck him immediately that the fourth picture might be the last. He lifted up the corners of the next several leaves, reassuring himself that the pages held the same expanses of moody greys and blacks.
In the fourth plate, the kneeling woman again faced the viewer. She was grinning broadly. She did nothing to hide her face, but the dramatic overhead lighting and the evident joy that distended her mouth conspired to mask her features. Globs and smears of ejaculate spattered her face, her shoulders, and her neck. Matt could see dried streaks of urine on her skin and her clothing. She was kneeling in a shallow puddle of mingled secretions. One of her hands pressed flat into the wetness for balance; the other was thrust between her legs.
Matt paused and tried to think rationally for a few seconds. He wanted, he needed, to make himself come looking at the pictures. It was unthinkable to carry the heavy loose folio past the reception desk into the men's room, and it would be unwieldy to handle in a restroom stall. But if he stayed crouched as he was, he could slip his hand inside the waistband of his slacks and briefs. If he heard someone approach, he could withdraw his hand quickly and tip several sheets back into the folio, so that he was only looking at an innocent abstraction.
He turned the page up. After a quick guilty glance to assure himself that he was still unobserved, he shoved his hand into his pants to touch himself.
In the fifth picture, one of the men lay on the ground and the woman held herself atop him, legs bent and arms extended, so she was half reclined. The short skirt was inverted, lying across her stomach. Her anus was stretched around the cock of the man beneath her. A second man, his hand still on his erection, bent to massage the woman's black-fringed cunt with his other hand. Her head was turned to suck a third man kneeling by her head.
It was like nothing Matt had ever seen. The stark bluish illumination and the deep shadows gave the scene a feral intensity. Matt closed his hand around his prick and pumped it as best as he could within the confines of his slacks. Carefully he reached his free hand to turn the page up and reveal the next image.
"And just what do you think you're doing?"
The whisper was moist breath right in his ear. Matt started and yanked his hand out of his pants. The page in his hand and several of the others fell to the floor. His eyes fell very briefly on the next plate. It showed the woman's head from directly above, her hands wrapped around two engorged cocks she held close to her lips. The powder blue of the woman's neat nails was incongruous against the throbbing purplish flesh she gripped.
"I
"Filthy boy. You must be punished."
Matt turned his head awkwardly to look up. The librarian had removed her spectacles already; now she pulled the long brown wig from her scalp and dropped it carelessly. She ran her fingers through her spiky black hair and smiled nastily. Stepping between Matt and the bookshelf, she nudged the folio aside delicately with the toe of her shoe. She pulled up her skirt with one hand. She cupped the back of his head with her other and pulled his face between her legs. She was very strong.
"Clean me," the librarian ordered. She leaned back into the shelf to give him better access, and added a second hand to his head. Matt dropped his knees to the carpet so he wouldn't fall. He could barely breathe. His mouth and nose were filled with the scent of her pussy, and a whiff of something more pungent, even a touch acrid.
He stuck out his tongue tentatively. She was strong and salty on his taste buds, but also strangely sweet, pleasingly musky. The sharp quality vanished almost instantly. He found himself licking at her hungrily, teasing drops from her cunt hair.
"That's it," she encouraged.
Matt's cock pulsed almost painfully against elastic and cotton. He kept licking the librarian.
"Finger me," she ordered.
He slid a hand along the open mesh of her stockings
"Two fingers," she sighed. "Find my G-spot."
He pivoted his hand to oblige.
Her breath and his both came in short gasps. Matt felt a touch light-headed. He felt as if all the blood in his body were flooding into his erection, leaving his brain oxygen-starved.
"See how we punish filthy boys?" the librarian gasped.
Matt thought her question was rhetorical until he heard an answering male grunt. He was alarmed and tried to pull his head away. She held him firm.
"Did I tell you you could stop? Work that tongue. You're not allowed to stop until you've made me come."
Somehow the knowledge that his lewd performance had an audience only heightened his excitement. He stole his free hand down to his crotch again. He didn't think she'd notice, but she did, immediately.
"What do you think you're doing, pawing at yourself? Stop that at once. I don't want your attention divided."
He increased the pressure and speed of his tongue, circling around her clit and sucking it gently between his lips. She made an approving sound. His fingers rubbed steadily across the place where the texture of her cunt walls roughened.
"Oh fuck," she said suddenly. "Don't stop. Don't you fucking stop."
She came violently and wetly, her girl-come sluicing down his hand and her pelvis buffeting his skull. The noise she made was so low in her throat it was almost a growl.
At last she pulled his head from her cunt, but she kept pressure on his shoulders so he couldn't get up. He took a dizzy gulp of air and looked around. Three figures were watching avidly at the end of the aisle. In the center was a short, slightly chubby woman. She was wearing black hot pants at least a size too small, and her hair was dyed platinum. She wore a pair of large-lensed pink-tinted sunglasses and long dangly earrings. Her electric blue blouse was half unbuttoned, and one hand was inside it, playing with a tit.
Despite her platform pumps, the men flanking her were both taller. They could have been twins. They were solidly built, older than the woman, perhaps in their mid-30s. They stood like policemen, and the dark green slacks, tan shirts, and crewcuts they wore were suggested a uniform. They looked vaguely Teutonic, a little frightening, and disturbingly familiar.
All three of the figures were staring at him and the librarian with slightly slack, glassy expressions of intense lust.
The woman stepped forward, teetering just a little on her fuck-me shoes. Her earrings jangled like miniature wind chimes. She steadied herself with her hands on Matt's shoulder and bent down to him. The librarian let go and stepped aside.
The woman in hot pants did not kiss Matt, although his lips parted expectantly for her. Instead, she extended her tongue and licked the librarian's wetness from his cheeks, his chin, his nose. She took her time. She lapped the moisture from his lips but didn't even graze his with her own. It was one of the most erotic things that had ever happened to him and it nearly made him come in his pants.
She stood up and leaned against one of the bookcases.
"Stand up," the librarian told Matt abruptly. "Take your cock out. Tell us all what you were doing."
Matt blushed so fiercely it felt like he had a sunburn. "I was masturbating," he said thickly. It was difficult to pull his stiff prick through the openings in his briefs and pants.
The librarian glanced at the woman in sunglasses. "Tidy up the book."
She kneeled so low her heavy breasts almost brushed the ground. Matt admired the way the small of her back curved into her obscenely displayed ass. She picked up the fallen plates with reverent care. She had to sit up halfway to return the massive folio to its shelf.
Matt stood as if at attention, his arms stiff at his sides and his prick stiff in front of him.
"Show us," the librarian commanded. "Show us how you were touching yourself."
Matt grabbed his cock and jerked it for them. He was a little hesitant at first. It was unnerving to have the eyes of the two men on him, but that was balanced by the thrill of showing off for the two women. Matt was proud of his cock. It wasn't the world's biggest, but he wasn't insecure about it, and it had never been bigger or harder than it was now.
Soon he all but forgot about the watching men. His eyes flicked between the librarian and the woman in sunglasses. He let himself relish the sensation of his hand tugging at his foreskin and rubbing his cockhead.
The blonde looked deliciously slutty. As he stared, she unzipped her shorts and began to finger her slit. The librarian didn't do anything so overt, but Matt found her sardonic expression extremely sexy. He smeared pre-come over his head and stroked his ball sac with his other hand.
"Is that thing going to spurt all over the place?" the librarian asked.
"Yeah," Matt gasped.
"We can't have that," she said crisply. "It makes such a mess on the carpet. Stop that at once."
Matt couldn't have said why he obeyed her. He just did, without thinking about it much. He dropped his hands to his sides again.
A sly smile curled the librarian's lips. "Fortunately for you, you're not the only one who needs to be punished today." She looked sternly at the woman in the pink sunglasses, who pulled her hand away from her pussy guiltily. "You know what to do," the librarian told her.
She promptly dropped to her knees. She took Matt's cock into her mouth and started sucking him.
"Fuck her mouth," the librarian ordered Matt. "Be rough."
Matt rocked his hips forward, thrusting most of the way into the blonde's mouth.
"That's it," the librarian said. "Hold her head with your hands. Pull her onto your prick."
Matt complied with her request. The rougher he was, the more enthusiastically she sucked him. He was soon very close to coming.
"Stop," the librarian said. Matt let go and the blonde lifted her head away.
"Those clothes are ridiculous," the librarian said. "They make you look like a tramp. Take them off."
The blonde woman undid the last few buttons on her blouse and freed her pendulous breasts. She had to stand up to peel her shorts down her thighs and step carefully out of them. She wore no underwear.
The other two men had pulled their cocks out and were stroking them slowly as they watched the scene.
"Do you want your pussy licked while you suck him?"
The nude woman nodded eagerly. "Yes, please." She knelt before Matt again, with her legs spread wide.
The librarian pointed to one of the men. "You," she said simply. He promptly lay beneath the woman and raised his head to lick her. She took Matt's cock into her mouth again.
"Do you have lubricant?" the librarian asked the other man. He fished a small plastic bottle out of his pants pocket with some difficulty and handed it to her. "Good," she cooed. She squirted lube onto the middle finger of her left hand and smeared it around. "Mary Ann can suck you, too," she told him.
The man pushed his pants down and stepped out of them. He stood next to
Matt and the blonde woman
The librarian reached behind her back and pulled her skirt up. Matt watched with interest. He could see the long muscles in her arm move as her hand twisted. The librarian tossed the bottle to the man on the floor. "Slick yourself up," she told him.
He slid out of his trousers and poured lube into his palm. He rubbed his prick till it glistened from head to root.
Mary Ann kept swapping back and forth between the two cocks. She jacked one slowly while she licked the other, then she took them both in her hands. Matt felt the man's hips jostle his. Mary Ann brought their cockheads close enough that she could slide her tongue between and touch them both at the same time. Matt found the other man's proximity disturbing, but the sight of Mary Ann's lipsticked mouth with two pricks so close to it was more than erotic enough to compensate.
The licking she was getting started to impair Mary Ann's concentration. She turned Matt loose for a moment. The other man grabbed her head and hammered into her. She gurgled happily around him and pinched her own nipples. The man stiffened and groaned sharply. He pulled out of Mary Ann's mouth and painted her cheek and sunglasses with semen.
The librarian was irate. "I didn't give you permission to come yet," she whispered dangerously. She grabbed the book Matt had set aside from the shelf behind her and smacked his bare ass with it repeatedly. The noise of the book against his flesh was shockingly loud. He shuddered and moaned and more come dribbled from the tip of his cock. Matt wondered if he'd come too soon on purpose.
The man staggered away when the librarian finished spanking him. Mary Ann returned as much of her attention as she could to Matt's prick. The other man had been licking her the whole time and she was clearly close.
The librarian squatted down on the slick cock jutting up for her. She reached her hand around to knead Mary Ann's tits. She caught her nipples between splayed fingers and pinched and twisted.
The man underneath jerked his hips up with powerful thrusts, lifting the librarian's body. She leaned forward, mashing her breasts against Mary Ann's back. "Yeah," she rasped. "Fuck me good and hard. Just like that."
Matt dimly wondered why no one was investigating the commotion. The foursome was making a lot of noise. He stroked Mary Ann's hair as he filled her mouth again and again.
Finally, the librarian gaspingly gave them all permission to come.
Matt let himself release the semen roiling in his balls as Mary Ann writhed on the other man's face. Their mingled moans rose to a crescendo. Matt was unable to keep standing; he slid awkwardly to the ground. They rested, panting, in a tangled, sweaty heap.
The others recovered much more quickly than Matt did. The spanked man pulled his trousers back on first, then Mary Ann wiggled free of the pile to grab her blouse and pants. Matt was still gasping and drained as the others dressed and the librarian smoothed her skirt and pulled her wig back on.
The librarian looked down at him appraisingly. "Not bad," she allowed. "You may be given chances to participate further. Be alert." She turned to the man who'd been spanked. "Chloroform, please," she said crisply.
He pulled something wrapped in a square of cloth out of his pocket. His motions were almost too quick for Matt to follow. Before he could react, a handkerchief tingling with harsh chemical scent was pressed against his face.
Matt didn't think he was out for long, but the others were gone when he opened his eyes. His head throbbed a little. He was still lying in the stacks with his now-limp penis poking out of his pants. He zipped himself up dazedly. The big folio was absent from the bottom shelf. He picked up the art text bemusedly, thinking how strange it was that it had just been used as a sort of sexual aid.
Unsurprisingly, the librarian who checked his book out wasn't the same one. He didn't see her, or the others, anywhere.
Matt stepped outside. The shock of sunshine was much like emerging from a movie theater into startling daylight. For the past hour or so, he'd been living within the gloomy single-minded intensity of the dirty photographs. Now tires hissed and birds chirped; the world was almost normal again.
Matt held the book casually against his hip. He walked down the street, smiling at everything and looking for clues.