The Library Crawl

     by Zenmackie

I must be crazy, Patti thought to herself.

She didn't look crazy—in fact, she looked the opposite of crazy, if there was such a thing, although it was true she didn't look the way she normally did. At the moment, to the casual observer Patti might easily be mistaken for a librarian: her dark hair was pulled up into a bun on top of her head and she had on glasses and no make-up, and she was dressed in a long, conservatively-cut leather jacket that came almost to her knees. The black high heels might have seemed a little out of character but not radically so.

Yes, Patti looked very much like a librarian. Which would seem to make sense, as she was standing in the middle of the town library. Nothing crazy about that.

Except that Patti wasn't a librarian. She didn't even like to read all that much. And the glasses belonged to her sister. And Patti felt almost naked without her usual, carefully applied make-up. She couldn't remember the last time she had been in this library. She was only here this morning because…

That's what was crazy.

Patti had come here, looking the way she did, because she had been ordered to do so by a complete stranger. A stranger she had never even seen.

She had read several of His stories on a website for literary erotica and found that they resonated with her fantasies of sexual submission. She had contacted Him through the site and they had role-played as Master and submissive a number of times via email.

Ooooo, the things He had made her do! Like going to work with a rope knotted between her legs. Masturbating through her panties while crouched down in the aisle of a supermarket, pretending to read a package label. (She had come so hard that she had fallen over backwards. Whew!) Running errands with a dribble of milk--which looked more than a little like semen--drying on the side of her face.

And now this.

As instructed, she walked around the library for a while, idly pulling books off shelves, glancing at them and putting them back as she looked around. She had arrived early in the morning hoping the library would be deserted and it was, for the most part. There was a real librarian sitting at a desk near the door, a couple of middle-aged women looking through the video section and a scholarly-looking man seated at one of the computer desks, apparently doing research of some kind.

Slowly Patti made her way toward the back of the library. The shelving ran horizontally across the floor of the building, and once she had turned and gone down one of the aisles she was no longer visible to anyone at the front.

Perfect.

She allowed herself one peek around the corner to make sure no one was headed her way, looking over the top of her glasses as she could hardly see anything through them. She took a long breath to steady herself. I really must be crazy, she thought, one last time. I could just tell Him I did what He told me—He'd never know. Then, as instructed, she quickly unfastened her jacket and let it drop to the floor.

Underneath she was wearing only her black high heels, stockings and her most frilly and feminine white bra and panties.

And around her neck: a leather collar with a leash trailing down her back--both in lavender.

She shivered for a moment, covered in goosebumps, as she looked down at herself.Crazy, she thought. If I get caught… But, oh god, it was so exciting! She imagined Him—her unseen Master—standing across the aisle from her, watching her obey His instructions, enjoying the sight of this 'librarian', with her glasses and tight hair, stripping to her undies before Him in this public place…and felt herself beginning to moisten.

She imagined His eyes on her as she got down on her hands and knees and pulled the end of the leash out of the back of her panties, where it had been tucked so as not to hang below her jacket, and dropped it to the floor beside her.

She imagined Him picking up the leash and giving her a playful flick on the behind to indicate what she was to do next.

Then, as He had instructed, Patti began to crawl.

She crawled slowly down the aisle and looked carefully around the corner before turning and crawling up the next, always imagining Him beside her; leading her along, tugging gently on her collar if she slowed down. Her breasts seemed unnaturally heavy beneath her. Her breath sounded horrendously loud in her ears, ragged as it was with both fear and arousal, and she tried hard to control it, but the motion of crawling seemed to be making her pussy-lips rub together…oh god. She imagined Him smiling pleasantly down at her, enjoying her distress, as she crawled along beside him.

When she had made complete circuits of several aisles on her hands and knees she returned to where she had dropped her jacket. Then, as instructed, she put her head down on the floor, her forehead grazing the carpet. Her glasses immediately slipped down her nose and she removed them and put them to one side. Then, as He had ordered her to do, she slipped a hand inside her now extremely moist panties…and began to stroke herself.

In her imagination she saw herself as He might see her. Oh god, she was such a little slut, down on the floor of the public library in her bra and panties, ass in the air, hand between her legs… If anyone should come along now there would be no chance to hide or cover up what she was doing.

…And she didn't care. She loved pretending she had to follow His orders, even if they were risky, or humiliating or both. Especially if they were both. Oh, if only she knew what He really looked like, so she could completely visualize Him--now standing behind her, in her imagination, watching the motion of her hand inside her panties. Oooo…she was going to come any second…ohhhh…ohhhhhh…

Then she slowed for a moment, grimacing. If only this collar weren't so tight, she thought to herself. It's really distracting.

She hadn't noticed it before, but now the leather collar seemed to be constricting her breathing somewhat—was it because she was so excited? No—now it was definitely getting tighter. Maybe she was kneeling on the leash…

She started to turn her head to look, but suddenly the pressure on her throat increased ten-fold, forcing her head upward--and then she realized…someone had taken hold of the leash! Oh god…

She started to gasp out loud, but at that instant a large hand clamped itself over her mouth.

"Shhhhh," was all she heard from behind her.

Patti had a moment of blind panic. She wanted to bite the hand that covered her mouth and then scream for help. But after a moment common sense prevailed: if help did come, how would she explain her lack of clothing? Whose story would they believe, the man—and it was definitely a masculine hand covering her mouth—behind her? Or would they believe the woman in her bra and panties (the latter item practically dripping with her juices) with a dog collar and leash around her neck?

Gee, I wonder, Patti thought to herself sardonically.

She took a deep, calming breath through her nose and let it out slowly, willing herself to relax. She felt the pressure on her neck lessen, and thinking that man behind her had let go of the leash she started to turn her head, only to have the hand over her mouth jerk her head back into place. Then the hand let go, only to grab the back of her head and push her face down into the crumpled folds of her jacket where it still lay on the floor.

Guess he doesn't want me to look at him, Patti thought, amazed that her mind was still functioning. Can't say as I blame him.

She felt the leash being picked up again and wondered if he was going to take her for another walk…maybe up to the front desk to turn her in. But Patti realized she was into something far more serious than mere exposure when her wrists were seized and pulled behind her back…and then she felt the leather leash being wound around them.

Oh…my…god.

This time Patti seriously did consider screaming, and she might have, regardless of the consequences. Except that the next thing the man did was to gently loosen her hair from its confinement on top of her head. He had moved to one side of her and was now kneeling, holding her head down with one lightly placed hand as he removed the bobby pins from her hair with the other. The silence was so intense that Patti thought she could almost hear, even over her labored breathing, the pins sliding out of her hair and being dropped to the rug beside her.

Her hair fell to her shoulders and it felt like the lightest of caresses. Then there wasa caress: the fingertips of his free hand, tracing the curve of her left ear. Then lightly tracing the length of her left arm, still bound to the other behind her. Then gliding delicately along the curve of her right buttock—her behind still held high in the air--before continuing down onto the back of her thigh and beginning to stroke the bare flesh at the top of her stocking.

Patti shivered. This wasn't rape, this was seduction…and her nipples felt as though they might burn holes in her brassiere.

She made no sound or movement when she felt his hands leave her…when she felt him moving behind her again…or even when she felt his knees between hers, pushing them further apart. But when she felt her panties being drawn slowly down to her thighs and then heard the sound of a zipper descending, she knew she had to say something.

But she couldn't decide whether it should be "Stop" or "Please don't stop." So she said nothing.

Then his hands were on her hips and she felt him pressing against her. I should really stop this right now, thought Patti. Before he…

And then with a sudden thrust he was inside her…and in spite of herself she raised her head for one gasping breath before lowering it again. She bit her lower lip so as to not cry out as she felt his full length sliding into her—and then felt herself involuntarily clenching around him. Ohhhh…god…

Then he began moving slowly in and out of her as if he had all the time in the world, as if the possibility of being found fucking a tied-up woman on the floor of the public library didn't concern him in the slightest. He still hadn't said a word, although Patti could hear the occasional "Mm" as he gradually increased the speed of his strokes.

And she still had no idea what he looked like—was he young or old, handsome or horrible? Did she even want to know anymore? At the moment it was useless to speculate because even if she raised her head she'd be unable to turn it far enough to see who was— oh god! —now beginning to slam his hips against her as the rhythm of his strokes increased.

Patti was terrified that the sound of his hips slapping against her behind would bring someone to investigate…but found she was unable to keep the thought in her mind as a wave of pleasure slowly gathered, rose and then crashed inside her, making her shudder from the base of her spine to the top of her head. Then she felt him reaching his climax as well—heard his suppressed groan as he poured himself into her--and she seized a fold of her leather jacket between her teeth and bit down on it to keep herself from screaming out loud as she came a second time…

It took Patti a while to untangle her arms from the leash, not least of all because she had somehow fallen onto her side without noticing it. And when she did notice her position she realized what it meant and looked around. She was not particularly surprised to find herself alone.

She quickly removed the dog collar, pulled up her panties, got to her feet and slipped back into her jacket, tucking the glasses and leash into a pocket as she did so. She felt more than a little wobbly, and leaned against a bookshelf for a few minutes to collect herself. She couldn't believe what had just happened.

She would tell nobody about this, ever. Except her "Master". What would He make of this? Patti suddenly realized that she was eager to share the experience with Him. She checked her appearance as best she could, straightening her hair with her fingers, then noticed the bobby pins still scattered on the rug and knelt to pick them up before heading for the exit.

There were a few more people in the front of the library now. The ladies who had been there earlier were gone, apparently, although the scholarly-looking man was still sitting at the computer, now typing busily away. As she passed him Patti noticed, vaguely, that he seemed to be perspiring heavily even in the air-conditioned room, but she didn't have enough energy left to think about it.

No one seemed to take notice of Patti as she made her way out the door. And why would they, Patti thought to herself, slowly beginning to grin. Just another bookworm leaving the library…with her panties full of a stranger's cum—nothing to see here, folks.

As soon as she got into her car Patti grabbed her laptop and opened it—her "Master" always insisted that she report to him as soon as she had completed one of His assignments and she especially wanted to write to Him about this experience while it was still fresh. But when she opened her email she saw there was already a message there from Him. She clicked on it and began to read. Then her jaw dropped.

I'm glad to see you're such an obedient girl, it read. Now, wasn't that more fun than doing it all by yourself? P.S. Nice panties.