The Submissive Librarian

The Submissive Librarian

A woman discovers her submissive side.

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Author's notes:

Fair warning!

This story contains a submissive female and a dominant male moving towards TPI (total power interchange). Some readers may find this misogynistic or patristic and be offended.

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It all started with a fictional story written and published on Literotica©. In the BDSM category, the story was about a submissive and dominant. It was listed as and was hot. The author received many good reviews when he received an email.

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Email:

I truly enjoyed your story. It was a bit misogynistic, and being a feminist, I was a little offended, but it was well written. It had good character development and descriptions and is a step above the works one generally finds in that genre.

Sincerely,

Reply:

I am glad you enjoyed the story. Thanks for the feedback. I'm sorry if you were offended. Perhaps you should stay away from stories about power interchange.

Regards,

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A week later, the author received another email.

Email:

Hi, you mentioned "power interchange" in your last email. Could I ask what that is?

Sincerely,

Reply:

Power interchange is when power in a relationship, usually sexual, is wielded by one side or person. Commonly it is better known as the submissive/dominant relationship. A person or group takes charge of the sexual relationship. In modern practice, the dominant controls and directs the bedroom activities or wherever the encounter occurs. It has a cousin called TPI or total power interchange. Here the submission is extended outside of the actual sexual relationship into "real life." A well-known example would be in the movie Secretary when, in a telephone conversation, the dominant commands the secretary to only eat eight peas. I hope that helps you.

Regards,

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It was a week later when another email arrived.

Email:

Thank you for the explanation. I just read another of your stories. It seems you have quite an interest in that subject. Similarly, your descriptions were extremely vivid, and one could easily visualize the action. I was wondering, do you have experience in this type of relationship? It's just that the descriptions are so vivid I can't imagine you not having experience doing it. I'm just curious. You're not obligated to answer me. My boyfriend and I have such a fantastic relationship. He is a devout feminist, respects me, and will do nothing to force his patriarchal dominance on me.

I did enjoy the story, as it was well written, but I failed to get behind much of the submissive's ramblings about how much she wanted, desired and enjoyed the submission. She seemed needy and dependent, not a strong and independent woman.

The woman just seemed to want to be touched, violated, and forced to do the will of another. The scene where she allows him to put his hands up her dress in public was extremely graphic to me. How could she let him run his hands up her thigh in a public restaurant and touch the moist warmth of her lady parts, penetrating her and forcing her to accept his blatant and very inappropriate use of her body? Well, at least the description of the encounter was vivid.

Sincerely,

Reply:

I am glad you enjoyed the story. Again, if you are offended by the subject matter, perhaps you should not read that category or even the entire erotic literature genre. Regarding my experience in anything, that is honestly none of your business. If you write again, you must tell me why you read these stories of mine.

Regards,

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It was five days when another email arrived.

Email:

First, I want to apologize for being forward and asking you the question I did. With that said, your answer was rude. You are a talented author and didn't have to be so blunt. You are also quite forward to demand that for me to write you, I must complete some task. Despite your rudeness, you are such a good author that I will comply with this demand just this once.

I read your stories because they are well-written. I came across the website accidentally one evening when my boyfriend was away on an extended business trip. I don't know how Literotica© came up in my web browser, but I started to read some of the stories. Honestly, most were a higher quality of writing than I thought I would find in this particular genre, yours especially.

The character development was above par. You see, I am a librarian with access to all the great authors and am very well-read. Indeed, you are no great author, but you have a real knack for descriptions of objects, people, actions, feelings, and emotions. Your vocabulary laser focuses on just the right word and elicits quite a reaction in the minds of your readers. I find my heart racing sometimes when reading the actions you describe. That is why I like to read your stories, even though I am offended by the subject. Couldn't you write about something on a higher plane, something other than submission/dominance?

Sincerely,

Reply:

You have done well answering my question. As a librarian, I see you are very well-read, and I am flattered you enjoy my stories. If you search the site, you will find I have written other stories in other categories. I am not as prolific as some and not as good a writer as many. If you write again, you must tell me what sex scene I've written you enjoyed the most and describe what you like the most about it and why.

Regards,

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Five days later, another email arrived.

Email:

There you go again, demanding I do something to be able to email you. Your brazen requests are highly discomfiting, not to mention rude, especially since you ask such a personal question. I will submit to your demands, just this once. I am a strong and independent woman. I don't need to be dominated and told what to do.

I liked the sex scene in your latest work. However, I was astonished at your description of the poor girl trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey. Your descriptions of the actions were quite vivid, and I had no problem visualizing them. The portrayal of his member entering, and you know, was gripping, breathtaking. I have a boyfriend and some experience, so I found the description realistic and mostly believable. The pleadings of the woman to be violated and abused were intense, and I found my heart racing and uncomfortable. Her pleadings were intriguing as he denied her the result she wanted. When he finally relented and did consummate the act (here I will give you a bonus, something I thought was not believable), in my experience, her reactions were way over the top and not believable at all.

I read your work in the Erotic Coupling category and found it most entertaining, although I still saw a bit of the theme of female submission.

Sincerely,

Reply:

She was frog tied, and his cock was thrust into her pussy. Her pleadings were to be fucked and made to cum. The orgasm denial only intensified her passionate desires, and the orgasm I described I've seen many times. I have seen some even more intense than I related.

In heterosexual life, women control coitus. To take a woman against her will is rape is wrong and illegal. So, you ladies have quite a quandary. To have penetrative sex with a male, you must submit. You must submit to penetration. Even a heterosexual female dominant submits. She may impale herself on the cock, and perhaps one could see this as a submission to herself. That said, she still surrenders to the cock's penetration of her body.

When you write again, please describe how it feels as a cock enters your pussy. You are an adult and a well-educated and well-read librarian. Please don't use silly, childish euphemisms.

Regards,

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Three days later, another email arrived.

Email:

I am insulted by your reply. Using graphic street language does not make something better, more descriptive, or more realistic. All it does is put it on the level of smut. My use or nonuse of such language is, in the words of an author, "honestly none of your business."

You also keep demanding more and more intimate details of my life. This is quite embarrassing, and if it were not for the anonymity afforded by this means of communication, I would be even more upset. How would you feel if I asked you the same question? And I will use just as shameful language. What does it feel like when your cock enters a pussy?

Sincerely,

Reply:

You read it already in my last work and how it feels when I orgasm and cum in that pussy. You also know what it feels like to me to have a woman orgasm on my cock. All writers write from their experiences.

They may have never tied a woman up, so it won't be entirely realistic. We all have, at least, the basics. We have all fucked and cum. To write me again, you must describe the feeling when a cock enters your pussy, a cock cums in your pussy, and to orgasm on that cock. You said you have a boyfriend, and I'm sure you have experienced all three.

Regards,

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Two days later, another email arrived...

Email:

Look, I respect you as a good writer, and I didn't think about the fact that writers write from experience, but this is so personal. The only thing that saves it is that the mode of communication is so impersonal.

When a man's penis enters me, I feel pressure and a feeling of being filled which I categorically love. As he enters, I sense his penis slide smoothly past my clitoris I shift to try to get his penis to rub against it. It usually takes me several times to accomplish this, if I can. When I do, I bear down hard on it. The sensations are overpowering, and I quickly find myself squealing and squirming under the intense erotic pleasure. Often, I moan, which usually brings my current boyfriend to a halt, to make sure he isn't hurting me.

Once I have him convinced he isn't hurting me, he resumes and makes quick, shallow thrusts that seem to build my orgasm slowly, often too slowly for me to orgasm. Of late, I have been giving him an alcoholic drink before we go to bed, and it slows him down, and occasionally, that orgasm builds to the point that I go over the top. It is an electric feeling as my vagina pulses grabbing and trying to milk the penis inside me. Intense feelings of pleasure course through my body and make my nipples hard. When he cums, I can feel his penis pulse as he usually grinds it on my clitoris. When he rolls off me, I feel a delightful tickle on my perineum as his cum trickles out of me.

OMG, I can't believe I wrote that and actually sent it to someone to read.

Sincerely,

Reply:

It's a good description. You filled out the description of your encounter by adding context, background, and some spice, although your word choices were almost clinical. What I liked the most was your honesty. I knew it would be hard for you to answer this, and I gambled whether you would. Please, realize I am not making demands on you. We all have a choice that some call free will. There was no burning issue for you to write back or answer my questions.

If you wish to write back, you must describe a sexual fantasy you have not fulfilled.

Regards,

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An email arrived the very next day.

Email:

You keep pushing my boundaries. I should never have written what I wrote you yesterday. I am so ashamed. I guess you are not making demands of me, and I know I could stop writing to you, but I am just communicating with an author I respect. As a librarian and an avid reader, I enjoy discussing all aspects of literature. My boyfriend is not interested in the subject. He was a business major and whined incessantly about the useless courses he had to take, like English Lit.

I get lost in the stories and the events, the emotions and the descriptions of places I will never see, things I will never do, and people I will never meet otherwise. It unlocks my imagination and frees my spirit. Writing to you has opened my eyes and pushed my boundaries, which I appreciate. Even though my feminist side is screaming, I feel drawn to continue our discussions.

As I indicated, I can't always get my clit stimulated to the point of orgasm. In this heightened state, I have to get relief. Once he is asleep, I use my middle finger to stimulate my clit directly and the middle finger of my other hand to penetrate myself.

I then fantasize usually about being captured. Sometimes, it is pirates or criminals. Occasionally, I'm a helpless medieval maiden captured by the raiders from another castle. The action always starts with them tormenting me by making a circle around me and pushing me back and forth between them. They touch me inappropriately, groping my breasts and pussy.

If I haven't cum, the next step is that as they push me, they tear at my clothes, ripping them away and exposing me as I try to fend them off crying. They strip me naked while groping me and molesting my tits and pussy. They pinch and twist my nipples. They touch my pussy, and they penetrate me with their fingers all the time laughing and me crying.

If I still haven't cum, my fantasy moves to where they force me down and hold me while they begin to take me. They thrust their dicks into my cunt, raping me over and over. I have never had to go further. My fantasy ends with my orgasm.

I am wet now just writing this.

My name is Ellie. I want to meet you. Your profile shows you live in Virginia. I live near Richmond. Do you think it is possible? Just to talk, perhaps to have a coffee.

I am so ashamed.

Sincerely,

Reply:

There is a coffee shop on Broad Street, I will send the exact address later.

If we are to meet, you must write an email to me detailing the entire event. Describe what happened, how you felt, what you thought, your emotions, your actions, and your motivations. I want the complete package. Skip the silly euphemisms and clinical terms.

Regards,

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An email arrived that evening after the meeting.

Email:

I met with the author at the coffee shop. In our communications preparing for the meeting, I asked how I would know him. He told me to wear a light blue silk scarf. I told him I didn't have one. He replied that I had three days to get one. Strangely, it excited me.

I was nervous, and I didn't even know how to dress. With the new blue silk scarf wrapped around my neck, I donned my old grey oversized sweater and a pair of long black shorts with my running shoes.

He was not as tall as I had expected and not as old. His grey hair was neatly trimmed, clean-shaven, and handsome after a sort. His outfit was business casual, a blue shirt and grey slacks all neat and put together.

He introduced himself. His handshake was firm but not overpowering. I smiled, and he led us to his table. We ordered coffee. He had a regular coffee with no cream or sugar. I had my usual latte, and we chatted, mostly about literature and what we liked or detested. He answered questions about writing, character development, plot development, and assorted things. It was a glorious hour, and I felt truly alive, finally being able to talk to someone about subjects I liked and not the Jet's chances of making it all the way to the Super Bowl. He finally indicated he had to go to a meeting and would need to leave. I must admit I was disappointed. I could have continued much longer.

It was then he again made his demands. If we were to meet again, I had to wear a white front button cotton blouse and a skirt of whatever style I desired hemmed above the knee. I was also to wear high heels and thigh-high stockings. He added that he would have to verify that I was wearing them.

I immediately protested, angry that he would ask such a thing after so pleasant an afternoon of intellectual exploration. How did he plan to verify that I had thigh highs on anyway? Wouldn't he be able to see them on me? He replied that he would need to verify my compliance with touch.

I was angry that he would sully this wonderful memory with such an untoward request. He shrugged his shoulders and said that he had to go.

There I hope you are happy. You ruined a great afternoon.

Sincerely,

Reply:

You have written a good description of our meeting. It is complete and accurate. If you want to meet again, text me for the details.

Regards,

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An email arrived the evening after the meeting.

Email:

We again met at a small diner. He requested a booth and pointed to one side for me to sit. He sat next to me, putting me on his left. The waitress took our order. He had a beef wrap, and I had a Caesar salad.

Immediately after the waitress left, he asked if I had on the thigh highs. Surprised and angry, I answered that they were clearly visible. The man said that only through touch could he adequately verify my compliance. Still angry, I took his hand and placed it on my knee. I was sure this touch would satisfy his lewd demand. Unbelievably he laughed and indicated that it was incomplete and that he would need to complete the verification. With that, he moved his hand up and under my skirt. I trapped his hand, looking around frantically, praying no one saw.

He then dared to tell me that perhaps we should call this off and leave, surprising me. I had come for the intellectual discussion that I needed and enjoyed. For some reason, I released his hand and looked him in the eyes defiantly, and he smiled.

He then slowly ran his hand over the stockings. It was obviously pleasing to him. His hand first explored my hose below the skirt as far as he could reach, touching and teasing the sensitive parts behind my knee and calf causing me to gasp. I must say, I also enjoy the distinctive feel of the stockings and how they embrace the thigh and move ever so slightly, tantalizingly.

Soon his hand was under my skirt, and he wasn't content with just running his finger up my thigh to do his so-called verification. He embraced, squeezed, and stroked provocatively. Tapping my inner thighs incessantly, he forced me to open them indecently wide. I could feel the heat rising in my neck. I noticed I began to breathe faster, and my heart began to race. I tried desperately to calm myself, but his touch was so personal, so erotic, my natural physiological responses seemed to be taking over. He ignored no part of the thigh in his violations. He groped and fondled the muscled front, the delicate back of the thigh, and the incredibly sensitive inner thigh. He didn't stop there. Once he had violated my entire thigh, he slipped a finger into the top of my thigh highs. He slid his finger slowly around the inside of the stocking top. I stiffened and held my breath.

Still not satisfied by this vulgar desecration of my personal space, he slid his hand over to begin his violation of my other thigh. As he slid his hand, the back made prolonged contact with my panties. I gasped again at the violation of my personal space and desperately tried to control my breathing.

I am so confused. When the hand finally slid off my panties, I arched and moaned as if searching for it to remain. As the offending hand slid down the unprotected part of my thigh, it was as if my body rebelled and sought out this violation. I continued to groan and found myself meeting the hand pressing, shifting, and aiding in these obscene actions. He continued completing the verification and withdrawing the hand, again pausing on my panties. When he removed his hand, I admit there was a desire, probably physiologically based, that I wanted him to continue to rub it on my panties. I was ashamed that my panties were damp.

Defiantly I scowled at him and asked if he was quite finished. He smiled and nodded, and then the food came.