Book Learning

I first saw her at the local Borders. She slipped a book out of the erotica section, hid it behind the magazine she was carrying, then took it back to the philosophy area and read it for some time, twitching a little in the armchair hidden between the stacks. I watched her furtively, first from fiction, then from travel. When she left, she slid the small volume onto the shelf by the chair.

Curious, I walked over and retrieved it. It was entitled "The Maid and the Master." It was a vintage volume, Edwardian by the tone. A young woman, entirely inexperienced in the matters of the flesh, is sent to serve as a housemaid at a remote estate. The master, a dark, older military man, intrigues her and slowly draws her in to a subservient relationship. A first, a slap on the wrist for some minor failing. Later, a light caning, though with her bloomers still on. Then, a spanking on her bare buttocks.

As the punishments escalate, so, too, does her excitement. Finally, she succumbs to him totally, to only to punishments, but to his carnal needs, and even to those of his guests.

I looked up from the book and saw the girl who had left it there watching me from the corner of her eye. When I met her gaze, she blushed and looked away, taking refuge in the gardening section. She was slight, barely five foot, with light red hair and flawless, pale skin. Her breasts were tiny, her hips narrow. She was attractive, but also obviously shy. Her carriage demonstrated a lack of confidence. Her plain, pulled-back hairstyle, complete lack of make-up, ill-advised glasses frames and drab fashion choices indicated no sense of power. She was likely in her early twenties.

She picked up a couple of books and went to sit at one of the tables near the coffee bar. I bought a large tea and walked over to her table.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" I asked, looking her directly in the eyes.

She looked up, surprised, and then looked around at the numerous empty tables. "I, um, there are lots of seats . . ."

"Yes," I answered. "But I would like to sit here."

She started to speak, stopped, then nodded. "OK, I guess."

"Thank you," I said, taking the seat directly across from her. I continued to look directly into her face.

She flipped through her gardening volume, occasionally glancing up quickly. Finally she spoke in a feathery voice without looking up from her book.

"You're making me uncomfortable," she said.

"I suppose I might be," I answered.

She nodded again.

"I enjoyed the book you left on the shelf in the philosophy section," I said.

She looked up, her mouth open. "I wasn't reading it, I just found it there."

I gave her a stern, narrow smile and shook my head. "No. You picked it up from the Erotica shelf and hid it behind your magazine. You read it in the armchair behind the last stack, then you slipped it into the empty spot at the end of the shelf. Next to a copy of Augustine's confession, ironically."

"You've been watching me."

"Yes," I said. "I like watching you."

She closed her book. "I think I should leave."

"That's your choice," I said. "But I don't think you want to."

She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it and looked down into her lap.

"Look up please," I said.

She did.

"You aren't going to leave, are you?"

She shook her head.

"Answer me verbally, please."

"No," she said.

"Why not?"

"Please don't make me answer that."

"But you want me to make you do things, don't you?" I said.

Again, she nodded.

"Answer me, please."

"Yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes, I want you to make me do things."

"What sort of things?"

Her face was flushed now, and her breath short.

"Bad things. Things with my body."

"You've never been with a man, have you?" I asked.

She shook her head.

"If you come with me, I will use you. I will have others use you. Is that what you want?"

She nodded.

"My dear, answer me."

"Yes, that's what I want."

"Very well, then," I said. "Come."

Her clothing would not do. She was wearing a pair of olive cargo pants, a plain white blouse buttoned all the way to her neck and black Doc Martens. I drove her to a small boutique where I often shop with my female acquaintances. I selected a black bustier with attached garters, black stockings, black spiked heels and a light spring raincoat.

"I want you to take these to the dressing room and put them on."

"But there's no underwear," she said.

"No," I said, "there isn't."

She came out of the room with the coat buttoned to the top. She was carrying her other clothes in a heap. I had the items charged to my account and took her old clothing from her and placed it on the counter.

"You won't need those anymore," I said.

When we got to the parking lot, I opened the trunk of my Mercedes and pulled out a black leather collar and a short leash.

"Fasten the collar around your neck, then attach leash to the collar."

She did.

"Now hand me the leash."

She did. I lead her around the car and helped her in.

As we drove west, I explained her situation.

"I am taking you to an adult book store west of here. It's out in the country, near a large manufacturing facility. It is Friday, and the day shift is just ending. The book store will be crowded. I will lead you into the arcade in the back and remove your coat. I will then let the men there use you as they wish. They will come in your mouth, in your cunt and in your ass. At anytime, even now, you can ask to be taken home, and I will return you to the bookstore. Understand, as each sweaty cock is shoved into your face, as each callused hand gropes your breasts, with each wanton thrust, that this is your will."

She nodded.

When we had turned onto the interstate, I told her to open her coat. She undid the buttons, but left the coat draped closed.

"Open it completely," I said. She did. Her small a-cup breast were exposed, pushed up by the bustier. She had large, puffy aureole and pointy, reddish nipples.

"Spread your legs," I said. She opened them slightly. Her pubic hair was the same light red, though thin.

I pulled into the left lane even with the cab of a truck, then slowed to match his speed. The driver looked down, seeing her body exposed through he window.

"Touch your self for him," I said.

She slid one hand into her lap, then extended a finger beyond her thin pubic thatch and into the folds of her labia. Her breath caught in her throat, and her nipples swelled and darkened.

Finally, we reached the appropriate exit. I turned off and into the parking lot of Kendall Books and Video. The lot was three-quarters full, mostly pickups, Explorers and Blazers.

"Button your coat," I said. She did. I got out, walked around to her door, opened it, took the leash and led her inside.

The front portion of the establishment was small, devoted to magazines and videos. A small, balding man sat on a stool behind the counter. He did a double take when he saw the leash attached to the collar around her neck. I paid the entry fee for the arcade and led her back.

The arcade is u-shaped, with twenty booths off either side of the black hallway. A number of men were loitering in the hall, and the Occupied lights were on in most of the booths. It took a moment for the men to realize that a women was in the hall, and another moment for them to notice the leash attached to her neck. I led her to the back of the hallway and stopped. I unbuttoned her coat, pulled it from her shoulders, and threw it into the corner. She stood in the bustier, her small breasts pushing of the top and her thin bush showing beneath. Her white skin was almost iridescent in the dim light.

"Kneel," I said, and tugged down on the leash. She knelt. I stood next to her, holding the leash.

At first the men just watched, gradually drawing closer. Finally, a large black man wearing oil-stained jeans and a T-shirt with the sleeved cut off unzipped his pants and pulled out a swollen, dark snake.

"OK I feed this to the bitch?" he asked.

I nodded.

He stepped forward, wrapping one fist around the base of his huge member, and pressed it against her lips. She seems shocked, her mouth clenched closed. He put the other hand under her chin and squeezed.

"Open up, bitch," he said.

Her lips parted and he slammed his hips forward, driving his cock into her mouth. She could only take a few inches of it, though about five inches were pistoning in and out of her mouth in a few seconds. The man grunted and tensed, taking her head in both hands. As he came, the fluid ran out of her mouth and down her chin onto her breasts.

There were now seven men standing around her with their cocks out. I pulled her to her feet by the leash, and turned her so that a fat Hispanic was in front of her and a wiry white guy with a mullet was behind her. I pushed down on her head, directly it to the Hispanics cock. The white guy took the hint, taking her by her slim hips and rubbing his cock against her slot.

She let out a gasp as he drove his long, slim penis into her virgin cunt. A small trickle of blood ran down the inside of her right thigh. The Hispanic took a handful of her hair and roughly fucked her face. The remaining men formed two lines, one at each end. In ten minutes, she had taken five loads in her mouth and four in her cunt. The line of men was gone.

"There is one more thing," I said. I turned her to face the wall and bent her over. I unzipped my pants any pulled out my eight inch member that had been straining at my pants for the past hour. I pressed it against the pink, puckered anus tucked between the boyish cheeks of her ass.

"Do you want this?" I asked.

She nodded.

"Answer me," I said.

"Yes, I want it." She said.

"What do you want?"

"I want you to fuck me in the ass. I want you to make me bleed. I want you to fill my bowels with your cum."

Taking a firm grasp on her slim hips, I drove the arrow home.