LIBRARIAN IN BONDAGE
CHAPTER ONE
Cindy Mason liked this time of the day. It was just getting dark
and swirls of snow swept past the windows. It was almost time to
lock up the library and go home for the holiday weekend. She
paused by the histoncal section and peered down into the street.
All the office workers were streaming out for their cars, heading
for the bars and other strange attractions they went for. Cindy
gave a slight sneer of disapproval.
They were not her kind of people, most of them, definitely not
refined enough. And most of them thought of her as a stuck-up
bitch, she knew. Well, better to be stuck up than as disgusting as
most of them were. And the crude sexual jokes they cracked as
she passed in the corridor-they were the most disgusting of all.
She was probably the only person left in the building now.
She turned back to her desk. She had just a little bit of sorting to
do and she would go, but she had to be sure. As Head Librarian,
it was her duty to make sure everything went smoothly. That
meant she should probably check the upstairs part of the library,
not leave it to chance and the whim of Arnie the janitor when, and
if, he came in tomorrow.
He would probably be too drunk anyway. The only good thing
about him, in Cindy's opinion, was that he left her strictly alone,
didn't make any of those comments the other workers made.
Vainly Cindy posed in front of the full-length mirror on the wall.
She knew she was beautiful, with her long dark hair flowing down
to her shoulders and her soft face with its wide brown eyes and
full, sensual mouth. She also had a wonderful pair of legs, and
she knew that too, loved to show them to the best advantage,
show the men what they wanted and couldn't have.
But she was proudest of her tits, two swelling, full, melon-like
mounds that pushed the front of her tight blouses until it often
seemed they would burst. She stared at herself, knowing that
under the frilly white top, her nipples pushed against the nylon of
her bra, outlined clearly against the thin silk of her very expensive
blouse.
That blouse had been a gift, of course. She got many of those
from men who wanted to fuck her, use her for their disgusting
ends. But Cindy knew all about that, and they wouldn't get her
cunt. Her mother had been right, always telling her that you
didn't give anything to a man until you were married and then only
the minimum you had to to keep their disgusting lusts satisfied.
And then you had to be careful because they always tried to get
more than they needed.
"Just like your father, Cindy," her mother would say. "Always
wanting to, to use me. But I put a stop to that. It was a good thing
he ran off with that slut of a secretary of his, a good thing, very
good." Cindy's mother was certain of a great many things like
that.
Cindy was probably going over to see her mother on Sunday. Her
mother would like that. Perhaps, perhaps not. Cindy would have
to go to church first of course, and there would be so much to do.
But perhaps, if she found the time. Work took up so much of her
time she was very glad she had a long weekend to herself.
She sat down at her desk and pulled the pile of papers to her. In
the utter silence of the darkening evening there was only the
occasional thump from the old heating system as it cooled or
heated up against the stone walls.
As she worked, Cindy thought she heard the door behind her
open. It was strange. All the downstairs doors would be locked
and no member of the public could get in now.
She turned and the shadowy figure of a man stepped out from
behind one of the bookcases and walked toward her. Cindy gave
a slight scream and covered her mouth as she leaped to her feet.
"Hi, Cindy," said the man.
Cindy fell back into her chair with relief and a lot of anger.
"What are you doing here?" she almost shouted. "I said I never
wanted to see you again." She sat there, her tits heaving.
"Well now," said the man, coming up to her desk and sitting on it
with complete assurance. "I thought you'd be glad to see me. I'm
here to entertain you for the holiday weekend. Isn't that nice?"
"George," said Cindy, with rising anger. "I told you that you were
never to see or speak to me again. Your behavior last Saturday
night was disgusting and I won't be associated with an animal like
you. So please leave now and I won't call the police."
She stared up at the arrogant, tall lean man who had dated her
after appearing day after day at the library, sending her flowers,
and cards and all the other little romantic things that turn a
woman's head. And Cindy wasn't against romance. She had
always dreamed of her knight in shining armor who would take
her away from the mundane world and worship her in his
luxurious home, probably in Palm Springs.
But, of course, he had to be the perfect gentleman, and George
certainly wasn't that. He had seemed to be at first, picking her up,
taking her to a movie, then to dinner and back to her apartment.
She wasn't quite sure how he had talked his way inside. It wasn't
something she would normally allow, but he was there, talking
and suddenly seizing her, throwing her onto her sofa and running
his hands all over her struggling body.
He had torn the top of her dress before she had managed to
throw him off, and the whole incident had been utterly terrible,
and she had been hoping to forget it.
He had laughed as he got up that time, smiling sardonically down
at her. "I'll get you, bitch," he said. "I'll get into those white pants
of yours, and you'll beg me to fuck you when I do, you wait."
He had left then, and Cindy had gone to bed, shaking with anger
and shame.
Now he grinned and leaned in over the desk, the slight scent of
his aftershave wafting across to her. "Now. Cindy," he said
reproachfully, "how can you speak to me like that? Your pal,
George?" He spread his arms in the air and smiled. "Now we're
gonna have a good time all this long weekend, and maybe, when
the party's really going we'll call in some friends of mine and
really have a good time.'
"I don't know what you mean," said Cindy stiffly. "I will not be
seeing you this weekend, or at any time in the future, so please
leave. I have work to do." She pulled out the top sheet of paper
and studied it as if she understood what it was about. In truth, she
was shaking with anger.
George got up off the desk, drops of water sprinkling from his
raincoat. "Now, the way I see it is this, Cindy, my little slut," he
said, and Cindy almost jumped out of her chair at the words.
"You are all alone in this great big building. And you are. I
checked, and there won't be anybody in here again until Tuesday.
Now isn't that convenient? So we have the perfect time to get to
know each other and have a real good time. I brought food and
other things to help us along. Now how about it, how about giving
me a good time?"
Cindy looked up at the man as he stood close on the other side
of her desk.
He had taken his raincoat off and dropped it over a chair, and he
was standing there in a turtle-necked sweater and slacks,
grinning at her.
"Get out," she said.
"Now, now," said George, still grinning. "I shall have to take
sterner measures if you go on like this."
Cindy had had enough. She reached for the phone and started to
dial. There was a hum and then the line went dead. She looked
up to find George standing there with the end of the cord in his
hand. He had just yanked it out of the wall.
Cindy still wasn't afraid. She got up and looked at him. "You'll
have to pay for that," she said, and walked over to where the
other phone sat on the reception desk.
"Did I ever show you my skill with the whip?" asked George.
Cindy turned, startled. As she watched, George reached down
into his coat pocket and pulled out a single-stranded leather whip.
The handle was only about two feet long, and from there the
strand of braided bull hide reached another ten feet at least,
tapering and ending in tight knots of cotton.
"Here," he said, "hold that out." And he tossed her a cigarette.
Cindy was so startled she caught it. It was the first time in her life
she had held such a thing and she stared at the white cylinder, a
strange feeling of uncertainty rising in her.
"Hold it out," said George.
Cindy slowly held her arm out, the cigarette extended from her
thumb and forefinger. George got lazily to his feet, -cracked the
whip once above his head and suddenly lashed it out.
The thin end cracked nastily close to her hand and the cigarette
was cut neatly in two, and her fingers hadn't even been touched.
Cindy gasped and looked at George as if she had been hit,
herself.
"Want to see what else I do?" he said, and the whip cracked
again.
Cindy screamed and clutched at the top of her blouse. The whip
had neatly broken the top button off and the two halves had
parted, showing the top of her white bra and almost half her tits.
"Get out of here!" she yelled and, in sudden fear, she lunged for
the phone.
George lashed the whip out again and it curled round Cindy's
wrist. She screamed in horror, even though it hadn't hurt and
stared at the leather curled around her arm.
"Stop that!" she yelled, and then she staggered as he pulled in on
the whip and she was slowly dragged across the floor toward him.
"Stop it, George. I'll scream for help."
"Go ahead," he said, and gave another heave on the whip. "Make
my day," he added and laughed outrageously for some reason
Cindy couldn't understand.
"There's nobody here, my little cunt, nobody at all. Scream all you
want, though I must warn you, I get really pissed off with cunts
who scream too much."
Cindy was dragged in helplessly by her arm, until she was almost
face to face with him.
She panted and fear fought with her fury for supremacy. She
lashed out with her free hand, trying to slap his face, but his arm
was up and he gripped her wrist with contemptuous ease.
"Now why don't you give all that up?" he asked. "Why don't you
be a nice girl and open the rest of your blouse for me? I mean,
you've got the greatest pair of tits I've ever seen, and you keep
them all to yourself."
"I'd rather die first," Cindy spat at him and struggled to get her
arm free.
"Oh no, I don't think so," said George with an easy grin. "You just
think you'd rather die, but I never met a cunt yet who really
would."
"And stop calling me those things!" Cindy screamed, and
wrenched her arm free. "I'm leaving, I'm going to call the police."
"Oh, fine," said Georg and unwrapped the end of the whip from
her arm. "Fine, leave, let's see if you can."
Cindy stared at him for a moment, piling all the hatred she could
into the look, and then she turned, holding her blouse top
together and walked for the door.
She got about five yards before the whip cracked out and
wrapped around her ankle. She screamed as George jerked on it
and she fell to the floor, rolling helplessly as he pulled.
The whip jerked free and he stood over her, laughing. "Watch
this, cunt," he said.
The whip lashed out again and the next button of her blouse was
cut neatly away, exposing her bra totally and the swelling tit
mounds it held.
Cindy screamed and tried to get her arms up, but, before she
could the whip had lunged in again and she stared as she
watched the tip curl around the next button. and rip it off the
expensive silk.
"Leave me alone!" she screamed, now really frightened. She had
fallen into the hands of a monster, and there was no saying what
he might do to her. She rolled violently onto her stomach and
tried to hide her wonderful tits against the carpet.
"Turn over," said George, but Cindy screamed and hid her face in
the floor, the fear growing in her. "I said, turn over," he repeated,
but Cindy just sobbed and held her tits, trying to protect them.
George flicked the whip out almost casually and it cut into the
front of her thighs, sending terrible waves of agony into her whole
body as the red line spread across her flesh. "Get up," he said.
Suddenly Cindy was weeping as she struggled to her feet, pulling
her short dress down over her thighs. She regretted dressing like
this now.
In civilized countries men would respect her, but here she was
being treated like a common whore. It was disgusting and she
was going to the police the moment she got out of here.
"Now," said George, leaning back against the desk and looking
his captive over. "Take your hands down."
Slowly Cindy let her hands fall away from her tits, protected as
they were only by her bra now.
"That's better," said George. "You know, you've got the best body
I've seen, and you don't use it. Well, now we're going to teach
you how to use it, aren't we?"
"Please, leave me alone," Cindy whispered, staring at the floor,
unable to bear his gaze as he stared at her helpless body.
"Why don't you take that blouse off?" said George, and he
grinned, running the whip through his expert fingers.
"No, no, you won't make me do that, no," Cindy moaned.
"I said take it off," said George, and flicked the end of the whip.
"No, no, that's perverted, it's . wicked, it's . . "Cindy gave up,
struggling for words.
"Very well," said George. He leaned back, flicking the whip in
again, cutting the last button away.
This one was so close to Cindy's skin that the tip of the whip cut
into her stomach. More pain erupted and she doubled up,
sobbing and screaming as she held herself.
"Stand up, you slut," said George, and Cindy managed to get
upright again, staring at him, her vision blurred with tears. "Now
take it off."
Fear almost choked Cindy as she reached up and slowly pulled
the top of her blouse apart. It slid down her arms, as she
trembled and turned away from the terrible stare of lust he was
giving her. Fumbling with the wrist buttons, she wept again and
hurried as he grunted with impatience and fingered the whip.
Finally it was off and she carefully laid it over the back of a chair.
"Put your hands behind your back," George commanded.
Cindy did as she was told, her tits only protected now by her bra,
and the top of the tiny slip she wore, that was cut even lower than
the bra. With the bra off, the slip would be no protection at all.
George stared at her, running his eyes over the luscious curves
of her tits. They heaved with emotion as the young woman
trembled and the tears ran down her soft cheeks.
"Very nice," said George. "I can't wait to get my hands on them,
but I will." He laughed gleefully. "After all, this is the first time and
we wouldn't want to hurry it, would we?" And he grinned again.
"Now the skirt, too." "Oh no, don't make me do that, no!" Cindy
screamed as she covered her tits again.
The whip lashed out again and George made it curl around her
body and cut into her arse. She still had her skirt on, and under it
were her panties and the very bottom of her slip, but it was as if
they were no protection at all.
The pain shot up into her back and Cindy screamed and clutched
at her burning arse cheeks. But he swept the whip again and it cut
into her stomach again, just below her ribs. Cindy's screams
echoed around the empty room and she doubled up, trying to
hide from the whip.
"Now, how about taking off your skirt?" George asked as if it were
the most reasonable request in the world.
"All right, all right, I will, just don't whip me again, please," Cindy
sobbed and slowly got up to face him.
He was grinning at her helplessness. With her hands trembling,
Cindy felt for the buckle of her wide belt and pulled it open. As he
watched, she reached back and unzipped the skirt, and then,
weeping at the terrible humiliation, she slid the skirt over her hips
and tight, swelling arse and dropped it to the floor.
"Oh yeahhh," George breathed. "Oh yeahhh, that's good." He
paused and looked at her. "Take the bra off, too."
Cindy choked with fear, but the memory of the whip was too
recent for her to forget. Her fingers almost wouldn't do as she told
them to as she reached up and pulled at the clasp at the center
of her bra. It stood out from her deep cleavage with the force of
the twin tit mounds that thrust all their force against it and, when
she did get it off, popped open very suddenly.
Cindy slowly slid the straps down her arms. She had to take the
slip straps down and slide them back up to her shoulders, but he
didn't seem to mind that. He just looked and grinned as she stood
there.
"Oh yeahhh," he repeated.
Her rising, luscious tits stood out proudly above the top of her tiny
white slip. The lacy top just held the lower curves of the fleshy
tits, pushing them forward just enough to show them to best
advantage. And the slip just covered her arse cheeks, leaving that
tantalizing show of soft flesh between her stocking tops and the
hem of the slip.
Just below it, there was the hint of her transparent white panties
and the dark mound of cunt hair they barely concealed. Below
that, her long, shapely legs reached down to the high stilleto heeled sandals
that she always wore.
Cindy knew very well what the high heels and tight slip did for her
body. She had studied herself many times in the privacy of her
apartment, but never had she stood with a lascivious, animal of a
man looking her over.
"Ohhhh, boy, did I make the right plans," said George, slowly
comIng off the desk and walking to the terrified librarian.
He reached out slowly and slid the top of her slip even farther
down. As Cindy moaned and pleaded with him to stop, he took
one of her proud thick nipples in his fingers and played with it, slowly
twisting the stiff flesh until it hurt.
"There's a bet on here," he said, "that you're such a little cock-
tease, you can't possibly be a virgin. And I'm gonna find out."
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