Your Personal Librarian Pt. 11

Chest throbbing and cunt aching, I inhaled deeply trying to calm myself, the scent of my squirt filling my nostrils. Consumed by desire and fully engulfed in the whore haze, I was eager to fulfill my purpose. I was given three holes and at that moment, all I could think about was how the other two might be filled.

A hand slid up the back of my neck and gathered my hair into a ponytail, then, yanking forcefully, pulled my head back and my body upright. He held my head firmly in place. My scalp burned and I didn't care. The strength and control in that one action made my twat juice profusely and leak down my thighs. There was no denying that the rough treatment was exactly what I was made for.

Again, the hot breath and Sir's gruff voice in my ear, "Eileen, you thought you had everyone fooled. They all think you're a sweet librarian, but you can't fool me. I knew the instant I saw you. You are a nasty whore, aren't you?"

Neck still wrenched backwards, uncomfortably but, oh, so beautifully, I panted, "Yes, Sir."

In that moment, I did not want him to let go. I wanted to feel his power and serve him forever, to worship him and please him in whatever way he desired, to do the unimaginable for the simple reason that he wanted it of me. What other reason mattered? He was the only thing that mattered in that instant.

The front of his body pressed against my backside holding me in place as his thick cock rubbed against me through his pants. He grabbed my wrists and secured my arms behind my back and pulled me away from the table and the man stepped in front of me. He held up his hand to my eye level. In it was a knife.

Fear swept through me and when l felt the cold steel at my throat, the momentary panic brought me back to reality instantaneously. My eyes watered as Sir's firm grasp kept my neck bent back painfully, throat fully exposed. The man dragged the tip of the knife across my throat then held the shiny blade to my lips, "Shhhhh. Now is the time to say quiet, Eileen."

Tears fell from my eyes, streaking my cheeks with black mascara as he dragged the sharp point to my collarbone and slowly, laughing, drew a line down my chest, between my breasts, to the bodice of my dress. He pulled the fabric of my dress taut and systematically cut the trail of buttons off one by one, collecting them in his palm like souvenirs.

Sir was unyielding in his grip; there was no chance of escape even if I wanted to. He watched as his partner in crime removed each button, his body still pressed against mine, his grip unyielding, holding my arms behind me making my back arch and tits stand out as much as big braless boobs can, nipple clamp chain dangling.

As the man removed the last of the buttons and opened up my dress, exposing the rest of me, Sir dropped my wrists and reached around swiftly, finding the chain and jerking it suddenly, pulling my heavy teats up by my nipples so aggressively the clamps sprang off, my yelp muffled by the filthy panties in my mouth. Pain seared my chest as my cunt spasmed and filled with more cream.

My legs wobbled and I felt like I might faint. I tried to control my breathing and be one with the pain as Sir whispered, "Yes, just breathe, Eileen. That is all you need to be concerned with. The rest is up to me." The waves subsided and were replaced by a delicious ache.

I took a deep breath and shook my arms, breasts shimmying as I tried to collect myself. I looked at the man standing in front of me, knife in one hand and now slowly stroking his cock with his other, a fiendish grin spreading across his face. I didn't know the man, but it didn't matter. Seeing his large hand wrapped around his engorged dick made me want to get on my knees suck him off, to take him deep in my throat and drink his seed.

I began to salivate, ineffectively getting the hole ready for his pummeling as the moisture was absorbed by the dirty panties gagging me. I tried to look back at Sir but his grip remained firm and I couldn't turn my head. Despite the futility of the effort, I mumbled an inaudible, "Please, Sir" through the wet fabric.

I squirmed with desire, begging with my eyes as the men watched me, smirking but saying nothing. I tried to lower myself to the floor, reaching out for support and getting none, wanting only to be on my knees before these two men, needing to be used. Failing that, I reached my hands out and tried to grasp the beautifully solid penis in front of me only to have him slap my hands away.

I didn't understand. All I wanted was to serve and to please; to be filled with cock and to drink their cum. Why weren't they letting me?

Then I realized, I was making this about what I wanted and it wasn't about me. It was about Sir and what he wanted. I groaned in frustration and tried to calm the frenzy of desire within me.

I heard him chuckle as he watched me process the situation, laughing at my expense, such a foolish slut thinking I could get what I wanted just because it was what I wanted. I tried to kneel again, this time calmly, to show my reverence, not twisting around to see him and begging for my lust to be quenched, but gracefully accepting my position of servitude.

The shift in my attitude was perceptible and he loosened his grip on my hair and allowed me to show my obeisance. I turned around to face him as I dropped to my knees and knelt on the floor between the two men, legs spread wide apart, dripping, needy cunt exposed, open and available, then lowered my forehead to his feet, generous ass in the air as my pendulous breasts brushed the floor, erect nipples scraping against the rough commercial-grade carpet.

I heard Sir remark to the man, "The whore needs to be fucked. Which hole do you want?"