Call Me JackbyMesmeri©
This story is a prequel to both 'For your eyes only' and 'Having fun with Faith'. I recommend reading those two before this one.
Call me Jack
"Item 125 is an unadorned chest made of oak with a cast-iron lock. Its 126 centimeters long, 70 centimeters wide and 60 centimeters high." Miriam shut off the recorder before letting out a sigh. She was cataloguing the contents of a library, part of some disputed estate. All of it was going to be sold, but first it had to be determined what exactly was being sold.
Which was where Miriam Constable came in. Well, her and Janice Guerrada who was in the office opposite of her own. Both would have to go through half of the books in the library, but they'd had a little contest on who could do the contents of the chest that was now sitting in her office. Obviously Miriam had won it.
The reason they both wanted to do that part of the job was the story behind the collection. It had a rather large occult section and the books in the chest were supposed to be too dangerous to be kept where anybody could get to them.
A silly superstition of course, but it had whetted her curiosity and Janice had thought it was a cover for racy material. Miriam didn't think so. She had found a few risqué books already so it was obvious the collectors weren't that shy. Which left the question of what was in those books unanswered.
'But not for long,' she gleefully thought as her gloved hands turned the key. And she needed both because the lock was stiff, only giving way reluctantly. With a groaning click the chest was unlocked and Miriam now carefully lifted the lid to peer inside.
She was met by the musty smell of old books with a hint of ancient timber underneath it. Miriam was disappointed to find so few books inside, ten in all. She blinked as it registered just how shallow the chest was and a small smile appeared on her face when a hunch came to her.
A careful study of the bottom revealed that it was made out of several planks. Instead of starting with the books she had already found, she gently piled the few books that were lying on the right up on the ones on the left to clear that half of the chest.
Her hand traced the seam in the middle as Miriam considered how to open it. When her hand had traversed half of the width of the chest she felt something and on instinct she pressed down and to the right. With a click half of the bottom hinged up and away to reveal a second compartment. Books were piled up in a haphazard heap, filling the hidden compartment to the brim.
Miriam's eyes were drawn to one book in particular. It was large and thick with three metal bands supporting its covers. There was no clue to what the book was about. 'Only one way to find out then,' Miriam concluded impishly as she took it out.
She turned the recorder on again after taking a seat behind her desk, she couldn't open the book before noting what the item looked like. "Item 125a is a book, with no writing or artwork on its covers. The covers are light green with three iron bands running horizontally along them." Since there was nothing else she turned her recorder off and opened the book to the first page.
Inside she was confronted with handwriting and a surprise. She blinked as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing. She recognized the writing on the top as Latin, but halfway it turned into what she thought was medieval French and the bottom lines looked like the squiggly lines of Arabic. Two languages she couldn't read. It took another moment for her to realize that she was looking at a Rosetta stone. The same message in different languages.
At least she thought it was that. But to make sure she plugged in her handscanner so she could send an image of the page to a friend of hers. He should be able to tell her if she was right. Having sent the email she returned to the top of the page, she didn't need help to translate the Latin.
Handily, the text started with a date. 'The sixteenth of January of the year of our Lord 1603,' Miriam read. Things after that got a little weirder. 'To you, who reads this, be warned. Within this volume is captured,' Miriam reconsidered the translation of that last word. No, it should be imprisoned. 'Within this volume is imprisoned a demon most insidious. A creature of seduction and sin, not burdened by conscience or morality. Read no further, let it rest here for eternity.'
"Well, that certainly sets the mood," Miriam muttered to herself. As well as puzzling. She had read about grimoires of course and had even read a few of them. But those were about summoning demons or classifying them, not containing them. When she had seen the date she thought that it was a grimoire, but either it was a very unique one or it was something else. "And it looks like Janice might be right after all. They did stash their smut in the chest." Instead of turning the page she took the time to record the information she had gleaned.
With some guilty excitement coursing through her she finally turned the page. But she wasn't confronted with lewd wood engravings or even Latin. What she was left staring at an incomprehensible script the likes of which she had never seen before. The page before her blurred and she had to blink a few times for her eyesight to sharpen again.
Startled she saw that she did recognize the language after all, it was modern English. True, the letters were a little strange but the style was actually quite engaging. A pleasure on the eye in fact. Writing her first impression off to being tired, Miriam concentrated on what this meant. 'That this book isn't all that old after all,' she concluded. 'The first page might have been written some time before the rest, but that is the remote possibility. Hmm, judging from the words I'd say it's 19th century at best. More likely 20th century but that raises the question of who made it?'
She would have to read a few pages then, get a feel of what the book was about. Miriam snorted after reading the first few lines. 'As introductions go its jarring, no introductions or explanations.' It just told her about how something called a pleasure demon encountered a girl, barely into adulthood. She was kneeling next to a stream, with the sun up high shining down unimpeded by clouds or trees.
The girl was softly singing as she washed some clothes, including her own. This left Rachelle clothed only in her undergarments. 'Lousy introduction, but the writer really knows how to describe something. I can see the girl, picture how she bends over to expose milky white thighs.'
Miriam's breathing deepened as she read further, imagining the pleasure demon stalking Rachelle. Slinking up to her until he could mold his immaterial form to the unsuspecting girl. She could hear how he whispered hot urgings to her, molded his hands to her breasts. They could not stir her flesh, but they certainly stimulated her feelings.
'Her nubs hardened as thick arousal began to course through her. Rachelle didn't know where this was coming from, why it was happening now. She straightened her back as she pulled the wet article of clothing out of the stream. She stopped rubbing it so she could begin rubbing her thighs together. Her pussy was growing wet and Miriam cupped...'
With a start Miriam removed her hand from her breast, her heart still pounding as she got her bearings back. She was a little embarrassed to note the story had aroused her. But there were more important things, like whether or not she had imagined reading her name there. A quick search only brought up Rachelle's. 'Alright, that's it. It's just too late, time to go home for the day.' It was easy to lose track of time in the office, there were no windows because natural light wasn't so kind to old books.
Miriam removed her gloves and quickly packed everything up. In a minute she was outside her office but she didn't go down the hall right away. Light was still coming from Janice's office so she knocked, waiting for acknowledgment before opening the door.
Janice was of Puerto Rican descent with a perfect figure. Not that she showed it off much, Janice always wore a pantsuit at work. Next to her, Miriam felt merely comely. Pale complexion, dirty blond hair and brown eyes set in a face that was pretty but never beautiful. The only 'advantage', if you could call it that, was her breasts. Miriam's were noticeably fuller but so was the rest of her figure.
"Hey Janice, just wanted to tell you I started on the chest."
Miriam gave a rueful smile. "Not really. But you were right, forbidden did stand for smut." Miriam ignored Janice's triumphant look. "Anyway, it's late so I am going home. See you tomorrow." Having alerted Janice to how late it was, something both of them didn't always notice, Miriam went home. Humming a wordless tune all the way.
The next day didn't start well for Miriam. She had been restless last night. The story had put her imagination into overdrive. It continued to hound her with fantasies of what happened next to Rachelle. In desperation she had played with herself, climaxing in no time. And all she could see was Rachelle's quivering body crying out Miriam's name.
It was the first time she had masturbated while fantasizing about a girl, but not the last. Afterwards she had drawn it out. Kept her arousal going as she envisaged herself entering the clearing. Unnoticed by a still recovering Rachelle she pounced on her, crashing their lips together in a furious duel of tongues. With the pleasure demon coaching her Miriam unerringly slipped two fingers into Rachelle's wet cunny. Her second climax hit her as Rachelle cried out in surprise. That had finally satiated her. Enough at least for Miriam to fall asleep.
As she was about to enter her office, she noticed there was no light coming from underneath Janice's door. Which was odd because Miriam herself was running late. And Janice had always been on time in the two years that she knew the woman.
"Hey, Miriam." It was Janice's voice, coming from behind.
Miriam turned around and waved. "Good morning to you too. Looks like tardiness is becoming contagious."
Janice shook her head. "Nah, just ran late last night. Have fun with the smut." After those words she disappeared into her office leaving a flustered Miriam alone in the hallway.
'The wizard was growing tired, only the sight before him kept him going. The baker's wife lay before the aged wizard, moaning as the forester's daughter daintily licked her button. Sometimes that soft tongue strayed to the wizard's dick when he pulled out. A sensation that never failed to elicit a hiss from him.' Miriam hummed in sympathy as she pressed the palm of her gloved hand a little harder into her clit. 'Both women were helplessly trapped in the pattern, their minds completely focussed on giving pleasure. No thought in their heads about where they were or who they were with. All that mattered was fulfilling their newly discovered purpose.'
It was strange, how hot this story was making her. The characters weren't actually that attractive. The wizard was old and nasty where as the baker's wife had a rubenesque figure that simply didn't do much for Miriam. The forester's daughter was the most attractive of the trio, albeit a little bony.
Yet none of it mattered because she was looking through the demon's eyes. Their pleasure hung heavy in the air, flowing into her and resonating with her own feelings. Miriam came as she felt the characters climax, biting her lower lip to keep quiet. And through it all she kept reading, even in the throws of passion.
She was still enjoying the aftershocks when she read about the aftermath. How the forester busted down the door and in a fit of rage killed the wizard. With growing excitement she watched the women through the demon's eyes. Witnessed the two bespelled women attack the forester. Uncaring about the blood he was covered in, they tore off his clothes. They bit and licked the newly exposed skin on their way down.
The demon chuckled, and so did Miriam, as he wove his web. Redirecting the forester's rage he gave it a new purpose. With a growl the man took a hold of the kneeling women, forcing their mouths to where he now needed them.
A finger had just slipped back into her pussy when a rap on the door interrupted Miriam. She snarled and was about to tell whomever it was to get lost when she realized she wasn't in the cabin. Unsteady eyes fell on the clock and Miriam was astonished to see how late it was. She had spent the entire workday reading the book and she had no idea when exactly she had started masturbating. She did vaguely remembered darting out to have lunch with her fingers still sticky from her own cum.
She swiftly removed her hand and rearranged her skirt. She shook of the urge to tell Janice goodbye through the door so that she could go back to satiating her still needy cunt. Instead, she stood up and closed the book. Putting it in its protective covering she called Janice in.
"Hey," Janice said with twinkling eyes. "Got lost in a good book?"
"Something like that," Miriam agreed while removing her gloves. Janice's eyes darted to the book. "I haven't found a clue yet as to who wrote it, but he certainly knew how to tell a story."
"Or she," Janice supplied as they moved down the hallway. Miriam eyed her quizzically. Janice clarified, "there were women who wrote back then too. And us women have got our fantasies too, you know." Miriam was wondering when she had told Janice about the age of the book but was sidetracked by Janice's suggestive wriggling of her eyebrows.
A playful swat on her arm put a stop to it though. "Not all of us are obsessed with sex."
"Sure, you keep telling that and I may even believe you one day." They had arrived at the security checkpoint. It consisted of a guard manning a setup similar to the one found in airports, complete with a metal detector and x-ray machine. As she eyed the arrangement Miriam suddenly thought about how she could get the book past it. For a moment she felt the urge to go back so she could take the volume home. Where she could it read it undisturbed, over and over again until the words were burned into her brain.
With a shake of her head she dispelled those delicious thoughts. There was no way to get it past the guard.
But she wasn't the only one who was a little distracted. "Oh damn, I forgot to print it out," Janice declared.
"Print what out?"
"An article, I was going to read it at home. Why don't you go on ahead, I'll see you tomorrow."
"I could..." Miriam began but Janice was already gone, leaving Miriam talking to empty air.
Yesterday she had been late, today the opposite was the case. Miriam couldn't remember what she had dreamt about exactly that night, but she could guess. Waking up to find your hands playing with your body was a new experience, a very enjoyable one too. But for some reason it didn't leave her tired or calm, instead she was still full of energy and definitely aroused.
She had put on a fresh pair of panties after a quick shower, well it was supposed to be a quick shower. Instead she had ended up with the showerhead between her legs. Breakfast proved to be a delay as well. Every bite seemed tastier somehow. The simple sandwiches she had slapped together were the best meal she had ever had. After breakfast she had to change again, her pussy was sopping and her panties had been uncomfortably wet at the end of breakfast.
By the time she could go to work, Miriam had resigned herself to going commando for the day. She didn't really have an excuse to leave her bra at home, but the cotton of her blouse felt so good against her stiff nipples. She left most of the blouse unbuttoned too so that the world could get a good look at her cleavage. The jacket hid some of that so that she wouldn't be thrown out of the building right away.
As she drove to work Miriam finally had the time to consider a few things. She was a little worried about how engaged she had become to this novel. She was no stranger to getting lost in a good book but to feel an actual need to read it? No, that was unprecedented. But going over her memories like that also brought back what she had read.
A deep breath kept her from squirming, or clenching her thighs together. It also caused her nubs to scrape against her blouse, releasing two slivers of lust into her body. One hand was already caressing her thigh, making its way up before she got a grip on herself. After that she just focussed on getting to work without having an accident.
Walking through the building a part of her wanted to shrug of the jacket that was hiding the most obvious signs of her arousal. The thought of all those eyes devouring her delectable form hardened those signs even more. As if they were begging her to release them.
She shared the elevator with an intern, a cute little thing who was apparently prone to full-body blushes. Although Miriam couldn't figure out why the girl responded like that when all the librarian did was let her eyes trail the intern's figure. Then again, there was no mirror to show her the hunger lurking in those brown eyes.
Finally, she reached her office. With indecent haste she set down her briefcase before removing the protective covering from the book. Her hand was already hovering above it when she remembered the need to wear gloves.
Embarrassed by that obvious breach in professional conduct, she planted herself in her chair with exaggerated care in an effort to slow down her enthusiasm. Her eyes flickered to the door, wishing there was a lock on it so she could have privacy. Her desk wouldn't help there either because of the clear glass desktop. It didn't stop her from hiking up her skirt though. The feel of the cool fake-leather molding itself to her overheated pussy did stop her in her tracks but only for a moment.
Trying to cool herself down again, she powered up her computer first to check her email. There she found a short message from her friend confirming that the scanned page she had sent him contained the same warning in the other two languages. He did note that the Arabic version was poorly done. Whoever wrote it had a less then proficient grasp of the language.
There were a few more mails but they were dealt with in short order and then there was nothing more that could distract her. With trembling hands and parched lips she opened the book again.
'Stealthily the thief glided through the bushes surrounding the castle. The cool evening breeze played with her short hair and tickled her lips. She scanned her surroundings, taking note of every guard patrolling the grounds. Her heart was beating in her throat, skewing her sense of time. It seemed like an eternity before the moment came. The moment none of the guards would notice a grappling hook soaring through the sky. The thief had taken care to pad the metal so the silence of the night wasn't broken by the harsh sound of steel striking stone. She yanked on the rope twice to ensure it was secure before she pulled herself up, trapping the rope between her feet in the same movement.'
Miriam squirmed as she felt the rope slide between her nether lips. Her hands were resting on the desk. She no longer needed them to stimulate her body. The writer's skill had apparently continued to improve as he wrote the book. By now his stories were so evocative that she could actually feel what was happening.
'With small increments the thief opened the last door, careful to stop every time she felt the hinges begin to protest. Her ears told her the room had an occupant, but the steady rhythm of his breathing assured the thief he wasn't awake. She stopped in the doorway, taking stock of what was in the room. On the right there was the bed, on the left a chest and in the middle was a cabinet. Seeing there were no surprises she moved towards the cabinet and the price that was lying on it for all to see. With reverence she lifted the pendant up, raising the blue gem to her eyes. Letting the light from the hallway play over it she took a moment to gaze into it.'