Bookworm Ch. 02

The video had finished. Carrie's hands were completely covered in her own cum and she was briefly uncertain of how to compose herself, still processing everything she had just seen. She found some tissue for her hands and adjusted her skirt and wet clingy knickers, feeling guilty that she had come at her desk, and guiltier still that it had been without instruction.

She remained thoroughly distracted by thoughts of the blonde girl for the rest of the day. Who was she? Why did she deserve his cock - apart from being beautiful and totally depraved!

Carrie couldn't shake the image of her coming and grunting with a big dick slamming wetly up her arse. She recalled the feeling of her own experience with the plug the other evening, pushing it into herself and imagining it was him. She now wanted more than ever for him to do everything with her that he had just seen Angela do. She would let him use her as he pleased, and lick him clean if he asked her to. And Angela could be the one watching and fingering herself!

Carrie went for a walk in the evening to try and stay out of the house and keep occupied. She wandered aimlessly, and found herself in the supermarket. Even there, she found herself gazing at large cucumbers with obscene thoughts.

She bought a bottle of wine and a home waxing kit. Back at home she drank a glass to steel her nerves, before setting about waxing her bikini line. She knew it would hurt, she had done it in the past - although never when single, if that's what she was now.

Each strip brought searing pain as she yanked them quickly from her thighs. But her pussy was still puffy and slobbery. Pain was having the opposite effect, and when Carrie checked her handiwork in the mirror afterwards, shaking from the quick agony she'd inflicted on her crotch, the whole pink area and swollen lips just looked incredibly erotic. She suddenly wanted to lick her own cunt, it looked so inviting and aroused. A cold wet towel against it felt delightful on the tender skin, and another glass of wine helped too.

The following day, Carrie scanned her workspace repeatedly for notes and objects but saw nothing out of the ordinary.

The day passed frustratingly slowly and Carrie wondered if perhaps she was being given the day off, to tease her.

Then she thought, perhaps that was naive - he might be busy with Angela! Maybe he was planning intricate tasks for her instead. Or simply shoving his dick up her arse.

However, as she returned from the kitchen in the late afternoon she did find a note waiting for her, which just said 'Top drawer.'

Carrie opened her drawer to find an object starting back at her pleasingly. She instantly recognised it as similar to the butt plug on her bathroom shelf, but this one was larger and also shaped like a penis - it didn't taper, although it still narrowed at the base and then flared wide. It was something of a cross between a dildo and a plug. Beside it was a small bottle of gel lubricant.

Carrie was excited and nervous in equal measure. The shaft of the plug was only about four inches, but since it was still bigger than the only thing she had so far pushed up herself, it did look challenging.

There was a note around it.

'Put this in at closing time. Be naked from the waist down and sit at your desk.'

Carrie worked through the stages of this in her mind. Step one was already a challenge, but what did he have in store for her once she was plugged, half naked and waiting? She remembered that she had tidied her pussy and hoped that he would see it and approve.

It was already nearly time to close up. The note was ambiguous as to the sequence and on this occasion Carrie chose to make things easier, and locked up before inserting the plug rather than the other way around. She would struggle to fit it in, she thought, let alone waddling around the library with it wedged up her bum.

After locking the big heavy doors Carrie hurried back to her desk. It occurred to her that she had never knowingly locked anyone in, and she did usually check the library before locking up, but recent events had shown that anyone wanting to get themselves locked in could easily do so.

She took the false cock from her drawer cherishing it like a precious item. She was in two minds as to whether to take it to the toilets to insert or do it at her desk. Was he watching her? Did he want to see her push it in? She didn't want to deny him that, and in any case she had already been spanked across the desk so seeking privacy for this seemed churlish somehow.

So Carrie slipped off her shoes and began to remove her tights. They were navy blue that matched her dress and she felt gave her a French look, for some reason that she'd never thought too hard about. She rolled her tights down her legs and then slipped off her knickers too.

'You spend a lot of time with your cunt out at work these days,' Carrie told herself, glancing down at the exposed lips again betraying her excitement. She squeezed a generous helping of the lube onto the plug and spread it over the head and shaft in a thick layer. Unsure of how best to access her arse, Carrie decided to raise one leg on her chair and then half squat, reaching between her legs from the front.

There was a little intake of breath when it first touched her anus - the lube was cold - and Carrie began to rub her clit with one hand, knowing it would help her insert the thing. She pictured Angela taking it so hard up the arse and coming and begging. That line of thinking was certainly making things easier and Carrie felt herself open up through lust and determination.

The bell end entered her with a pop and Carrie gasped. She really hoped he was watching. The thing felt big, stretching her little ring, and when she pushed a bit more she was surprised by how easily it slid further in now that the head was through, and thanks to the slathering of lube.

Holding it by the base with one hand while her other hand paddled in her slippery pussy, Carrie began to fuck the toy up into her tight tunnel, knowing she was in real danger of coming as a result, and wondering what he had in store for her. Maybe he just wanted her to stay there plugged and waiting, and it was an exercise in frustration. She pushed the remaining length of the thing into herself with a horny grunt, feeling it expand her deeper up her passage, imagining it was his cock throbbing inside her.

With the whole thing inserted, Carrie stopped touching her clit, and stood up. She felt the base of the plug nestle between her cheeks, and she sat against the desk allowing her weight to drive it into her.

Then she waited, scanning left and right for any clues. She couldn't wait to see him - she tried again to imagine what he looked like, how he kissed. The look of his cock she now knew well. And she had seen his lower half as he filmed himself slamming into Angela, and his arms and hands as he'd choked the girl while she came.

Carrie saw it first out of the corner of her eye - a movement at about waist height accompanied by a shuffling sound.

She glanced round, and recognised the blonde hair and freckles of Angela instantly, on her hands and knees and crawling in her direction. It was a seductive crawl - Carrie was surprised to note that such a thing existed - and Angela's hips swayed as she made her way closer to Carrie, her clear blue eyes on Carrie's, now and again looking her up and down.

It was clear that both girls were undertaking a task for him, and the look being exchanged between them was loaded with information - there was jealousy in the mix, but also empathy and recognition of a kindred spirit. Both pairs of eyes also ran deep with lust.

Angela was wearing a long sleeved tight black top, with two holes roughly cut with scissors so that her tits were free, and on her nipples were two small pegs - identical to clothes pegs although a little smaller. Her nipples looked angry and pinched and her tits, although infuriatingly firm, swung as she crawled.

She also wore a pair of impossibly tight, shiny black trousers. Carrie couldn't see the full impression they made, but imagined that it was quite a sight from behind as the stunning girl crawled, the globes of her arse showing perfectly with a seam running between them. They looked like latex, Carrie thought, and she wondered if Angela was sticky and hot inside them.

Carrie bounced herself against the desk and drove the mock cock further up her bum, wondering what was about to happen as Angela arrived almost in front of her, and answered the question, breaking the silence.

"Hello. You must be Carrie. I've come to lick your pussy."

Carrie realised that of course this girl didn't know what she looked like until now, and that from her perspective, Carrie was the other girl, the intruder. She had been sent on her knees to lick her competitor. Simultaneously, Carrie wondered how it would feel to have this pretty subservient girl's lips and tongue playing between her folds, with the large plug nudging in her arse. She opened her thighs absent mindedly.

"Show me." Angela was now immediately below Carrie, looking up at her.

Carrie lay back on the desk slightly, lifting the hem of her dress and spreading her legs. She was blushing hard and watching Angela's eyes take in the scene. She'd never had another girl look at her cunt like this, and right now it was soaking and open, with the base of a plug sticking lewdly out of her arsehole. Angela had a delighted expression, practically salivating. Carrie saw her give a little tug on her own pegs, and breathe in the intermingled scents of Carrie's horny cunt and arse.

Carrie whimpered when Angela made contact, first simply lifting the dress higher to expose the Carrie's fluttering belly, before kissing the soft skin there and licking it with her tongue pointed and light. Carrie was incredibly aroused but also uncertain - this was completely new.

But the master wanted it, and she had already sucked a queue of dicks for him. And besides, Carrie's vagina was insisting that it was a good idea to let the pretty blonde's exquisite tongue hurry up and make contact.

While Angela's tongue switched from teasing Carrie's abdomen to flicking at her sensitive inner thighs, her fingertips played with the base of the plug, tracing the taut ring stretched around it, and then pushing gently on the base.

Carrie nearly came in the girl's face. She wanted to grab Angela's head and force it between her legs, and got a sudden thrill at the thought of how powerful she'd feel.

She recalled Angela coming while she was choked. Carrie reached between her legs and slowly tangled her fingers into the blonde girl's hair, coaxing her face towards her glistening slit.

"Lick it," she whispered, as though trying out a role.

Angela moaned as Carrie pulled her in close, giving in, and closing her mouth around the other girl's shiny fuschia lips. She pulled on the plug at the same time so it slid out by a few centimetres and then drove it back in deep, enjoying the groan it elicited from Carrie.

As Angela began to circle Carrie's clit, pressing it between her lips and probing her arse with the plug, Carrie knew she wouldn't last very long. The gentleness of a female tongue lapping at her so expertly, along with the big fake dick sliding in and out of her slippery butthole, were going to send her over the edge in no time.

Angela sensed this and changed rhythm, teasing her. Her expression was angelic, Carrie mused, and she seemed to be thoroughly enjoying Carrie's cunt - a clear coating shone on her lips and chin when she stopped briefly to smile at Carrie, tugging the plug almost all the way out. Her eyes sparkled when she shoved it back up Carrie's arse, and leaned in to lap up some more of her juices.

"Come in my mouth. It's what he wants."

Angela was pulling on her pegs and moaning as she licked Carrie to orgasm.

Carrie felt it approaching like a train. It seemed to start in her arse somehow, because of the prodding and nudging there. There was a crescendo through her whole abdomen and she felt like she was going to flood Angela's mouth. It felt a little as though she could piss a gallon down the freckled blonde's throat and she cried out and shook violently as she came, and Angela made sure to fuck her arse with the plug and buzz her clit with her tongue as Carrie rode her face.

Carrie hadn't quite returned to earth when she realised that Angela had closed her teeth around the base of the plug and was biting it and pulling it gently through Carrie's depths and out of her. It slithered on and plopped free of her arsehole with a sheen of used lube, sticking obscenely out of Angela's mouth.

Carrie gazed in wonder and realised it must be part of her task, to remove the plug in that fashion and return it. Carrie's bum felt empty and open, and she was relieved to see the toy was not dirty, relatively speaking.

Angela stood and with some difficulty, peeled the skin tight trousers down from her waist and off her legs. She wore a small yellow thong. She took that off as well, and Carrie could see from the string of juice back to her cunt as she removed it that Angela had enjoyed licking her.

The plug continued to wave in Angela's mouth. She balled up the thong and pressed it into Carrie's hand, smiling with her crystal blue eyes, before dropping to her knees and beginning to crawl away with her naked arse towards Carrie.

It was then that Carrie noticed the marks. Raised red and pink lines of differing intensity criss crossed both cheeks. It had clearly been quite a thorough caning, and probably not long before she had crawled out to retrieve Carrie's cum and her arse plug.

Carrie imagined the sound of the cane swishing and the crack of it landing against the soft globes of Angela's gorgeous arse. She was jealous of another girl's pain, she realised. She wanted lines on her own cheeks. She wanted to crawl for him and bury her tongue in another girl's cunt, and for him to fuck her arse as hard as he wanted, like she'd seen him do to Angela.

She watched the other girl retreating, still able to see Angela's pussy shining with need - it was a complex task and Carrie felt for her, wondering if she would be allowed to come.

She glanced at the damp piece of fabric in her hands. The little yellow thong was smeared with a dose of Angela's creamy juices - she'd been caned wearing these no doubt. To help her imagine licking another girl's pussy, Carrie raised the wet scrap to her nose. It was a familiar and yet alien scent, Angela's horny cunt and the strong musk of her arsehole, both independenly identifiable on the fabric. In a dreamlike state, Carrie pushed the tip of her tongue against Angela's gusset, registering the sweetness. 'Carrie, you're a dirty slut now,' she told herself as she licked them and rubbed her cunt.

She carried the wet scrap home in her handbag, thinking about them, and about how Angela's tongue had felt. She imagined him watching his two submissives playing together. She felt a little like a pet, and briefly she pictured herself in a collar, on all fours licking up a saucer of milk. She'd like him to stroke her.

In her flat, Carrie retrieved the thong again and in the mirror she stripped off her own underwear - no less messy, she saw - and replaced it with Angela's. She pressed them against herself and wondered what the blonde's evening involved.

Was she with him? When had he let her wash Carrie's cum from her face? Had he made her wear that plug?

Carrie packed a bag and went to the gym still wearing the other girl's thong. She pushed herself hard, sweating into it and only reluctantly took them off later in evening. Her dreams, when they came, were outrageous and pornographic.

On the way to work Carrie was thinking about how many tasks she would be willing to do before meeting the task master. She had thought once or twice about ignoring a note, but they were always so arousing that she simply couldn't, and she feared the notes stopping. An unseen master was still better than none at all, she decided.

The note she found mid morning changed things.

'Carrie, meet me for dinner at The Atelier tonight at 7.30. It is booked in the name of Black. They will show you to our table. Wear your light blue dress and no tights. Write the phrase 'Harder, please' on your lower back.'

It was a lot to take in and she was reeling a bit at the thought of meeting him. In public. Going out for dinner like ordinary people, dating! Somehow that was scarier than the sexual tasks she had been gladly performing for him. The writing she'd be adorned with also strongly implied that he (or someone, she thought, having now learned not to jump to conclusions) would be fucking her from behind. Her crotch was salivating again.

The day ground slowly on. Her light blue dress. She knew the one he meant and she tried to recall when she had worn it. How did he know it? His first note had been about wearing her hair down, she recalled, and realised how far they had traveled from that innocent request.

Now she was finally going to meet him face to face. She feared disappointment. She was terrified that it would be mundane, or awkward. He had given her so much tantalising pleasure with his control of her. There was an eroticism to every daily chore now, as though some kinky fairy dust had been blown across everything. Carrie knew magical realism, and that's how she perceived her new reality, as though she'd held his hand (his cock perhaps) and stepped with him through a bookshelf into an altered dimension. Her cunt took charge of her, and he had taken charge of it.

Home time ticked around eventually and Carrie skipped her way to the bus. How was she going to write on her own back?

When she got home she held paper against her back and had a dozen attempts in the mirror, finally happy that she could write it legibly enough.

She was jittery with nervous excitement as she showered, giving her pussy too much attention, wondering if she'd feel his mouth there. She looked at it in the mirror, more hairless than she was used to seeing it. Her nipples were hard pink pebbles and she pinched them for a few seconds, remembering Angela's pegs.

Then she set about writing on herself with the black pen. The mirror helped in some ways but also made it more challenging by reversing things. It took a great deal of concentration and for a time Carrie forgot how horny she was.

But then she saw her handiwork - 'harder please' scrawled above her arse to encourage him to pound her - and it all came flooding back. Certainly she was beginning to feel flooded.

She chose some lace edged knickers (after considering wearing Angela's dirty thong) and found her light blue dress as instructed.

She decided she would wear her hair down - a nod to his first request, and she thought perhaps he might decide to pull on it.

As she put on make up in the mirror she was dwelling on how unusual it was for her to go on a date. The girl in the mirror looked pretty and confident - Carrie struggled to recognise her. She'd love to watch that girl get fucked until her make up was a mess and her dress was covered in cum.

Carrie slipped her hand up the front of her dress and slid a finger up her knickers and into herself, quickly pulling it back out wet and dabbing it behind her ear like perfume. She wasn't sure why - she had once read that it would arouse men but defy perception. Something to do with pheromones. In any case, she liked the idea that she would know it was there. 'You kinky slut,' she told her reflection, silently.

The Atelier was a short journey away for her and it was well chosen - a private setting with good food, and quite unpretentious despite the name. What would she say to him? Would there be small talk? That petrified her. Boredom and awkwardness had been her most consistent companions on dates in her life.