The Library 31

Law Students at Bristol University had it rough. Admittedly, they got by far the snazziest building: a big Gothic tower looming over the top of Park Road. It had turrets. Like an actual castle. And yes, they got all the prestige, and fancy corporate-sponsored dinners, and the promise of earning multi-millions in a few short years, but there was, balanced against all this, one major downside.

They were constantly surrounded by other Law Students.

This tended to drive them slightly mad, which meant that despite my being at Bristol to do a sane degree, I also had it rough.

Cathy started off as a perfectly awesome girlfriend -- adventurous and loving, a quirky sense of humour and a delightful penchant for kinky sex -- but it was all going horribly wrong as we got closer and closer to the summer exams. She was collapsing in on herself: a whirling mass of stress and hysteria as she tried to commit every statute, every treaty, every fragment of case law to memory. She was utterly convinced that she was failing, and that every other super-efficient student had it all down.

The last straw had come when she'd banned me from seeing her, claiming she needed a boyfriend-less week of intense revision. That one week had become two and my patience had finally worn thin.

Which was why I was here, at a side-door into the snazzy Gothic tower, at 10 o'clock on an otherwise unremarkable Wednesday evening. I knocked twice.

The door opened. 'Alright, mate,' said Nathan, grinning widely.

'Evening.' He was a drinking partner of mine and for tonight, a collaborator. An employee at the Library, it was his night to close up.

'She up there?' I asked.

'Yeah, we closed fifteen minutes ago, but I left the lights on. Her head's stuck in a book and she hasn't come up for hours.'

'Cheers.' I handed him the £50 bribe.

'You two have fun now.' He had no idea what I was going to do to her. He thought this was a lover's surprise. 'And take my keys. I'll need you to lock up.'

'Sure thing. Have a good one.'

He left. It never even crossed his mind to ask what was in the large black rucksack on my shoulder. I smiled, wondering what he would have thought if he'd seen the wide array of implements I'd stashed in there.

The building was no less impressive on the inside. A barrier rope stood just in front of the huge front doors. They'd let the tourists in just that far, so they could admire, while the students slipped past to head to their classes. The place reeked of power: the home of the brightest and the best.

I took my time, savouring the status and the statuesque beauty of these walls. Then I headed up the ancient stone steps that led to the first floor, where the Library was housed. Walking down the corridors, I took note of the portraits adorning the walls and even caught a glimpse of the luxurious student common room.

Finally, I reached the door I was looking for and eased it open. The library was different from the rest of the building: carpeted and more modern, with state of the art computers in the first section. I headed through, taking care to be quiet.

The main section of the Law Library was made up of two floors. Shelves of books arced around individual alcoves, with a wooden table in the middle of each. On the second floor, a railing ran all the way around the middle, stopping anyone from falling down to the floor below.

I moved slowly up the stairs to the second floor. I'd been here before to find Cathy and I knew where she'd be. My first glimpse of her stirred the adrenaline in my blood. Just as Nathan had said, she was working manically.

As I crept closer, I could make out more.

Her elbow rested on the desk as she bent over an ancient tome, her left hand interlaced in her unkempt hair, while her right fiddled with a ballpoint pen.

She looked profoundly fuckable.

Luckily, she was facing away, so I was able to get close enough to hear her mutter to herself: reciting mumbled nonsense at a feverish pace.

I took a second to appreciate how vulnerable she was. She had no idea how much trouble she was about to be in. No idea that a sadistic monster lurked just behind her right shoulder.

The first touch would be exquisite. That instant of perfect horror.

I grabbed her mouth first, then wrapped my arm around my chest and pulled her backwards. The fancy chair she was in clattered over. Her scream filled my palm, as I whirled her around, slamming her against the nearby bookcase.

Winded and stunned, it took her a second to recognise me. Her intelligent blue eyes widened even further.

'Tom!' she gasped.

'I think you should call me sir.' I kept my voice calm, but tightened my grip.

Her pretty face contorted into something like panic. 'What are you doing? There are people here!'

I slapped her. 'What are you doing,

sir

. And there's no one here. Nathan finished up twenty minutes ago. He left me the key.'

'He...

what?

'

My left hand gripped her throat. I could feel her tender, rapid pulse. I wanted her badly, and there was no way I was letting her escape.

'Cathy... Do you trust me?'

'Of course I --'

I interrupted. 'Then call me sir.'

She bit her lower lip, staring up at me. It was a long moment. Finally, she nodded. 'Yes, sir.'

I spun her again, pushing her down, chest first onto the oaken table. A divide ran down the middle of the table, and she instinctively gripped it with her fists. I took a second to appreciate the sound of her flustered breathing. Then I brought my hand down hard on her skirt-covered arse.

It was a long floral print skirt in a pale brown colour. The kind that screamed out bookish student and gave no hint of the perverted slut that wore it.

'You've fucked up, Cathy.'

'Sir?'

'You've forgotten what you are. Gotten all carried away with what a high and mighty lawyer you're going to be. Forgotten that your first and only duty is to serve my cock.'

A hint of outrage crept into her response. 'I have

exams

, sir!'

'Pull up your skirt, whore. It'll be hard to be so high and mighty when you're flashing your slutty kickers to the open air.'

'Listen here, Tom, I --'

I leant over, wound my hand in her hair and pushed her face into the wood. 'You need this, sweetie. You need to be taken down from your pedestal, fucked hard, and humiliated. Deep down, you know it.' I twisted the hair in my hand, pulling at her roots and eliciting a sharp cry. 'Now lift up your skirt and show me your lovely rear end, or I will be forced to hurt you.'

I didn't know for certain whether she'd do it. It was a hard ask. A signal of surrender.

Her struggle fascinated me. It wouldn't be fun if she wasn't so proud. The pride heightened her humiliation, gave her further to fall. But then, the pride was part of what made her submit. The desire to be a great submissive. To test herself. What a beautiful paradox she was...

Her hands went to the hem of her dress and began to inch it up.

I smiled. It was courage, wherever it came from. Huge numbers of women had the odd submissive fantasy. But how many of them had the guts to play it out?

'Faster, slut,' I whispered. 'I want to see your flesh.'

'Yes, sir.'

She lifted the skirt up and over, so it rested on her back. The contours of her arse were revealed. As was the lacy pink thong wedged between her cheeks.

'Doesn't really match your good girl image, does it?'

I couldn't see much of her face, but I could tell she was blushing.

'But then, you're not a good girl are you?'

She swallowed. 'No, sir.'

'In fact, you're not even a good whore. Hold still. Face forward.' I went to my ruck-sack, got a leather paddle and returned. I rubbed it lightly over her skin, so she could feel what was coming. Her skinny thong would be no protection at all. 'Tell me, slut, who do you think you are, to leave me waiting? To put your precious books above our relationship?'

'Sir, I'm --'

I didn't care if she was protesting or apologising. The sadist in me would wait no longer. I brought the paddle crashing down onto her unprotected arse. Once, twice and a third.

She groaned her approval.

'It's wrong for a whore to get above her station. To think she's anything more than a toy for a man's whims. And that's what's happened here, isn't it? You've been a bad whore.'

'Yes, sir. I have, sir.'

'All this status and learning has got to you. You think it's more important than me.'

'No! I --'

I cracked the paddle against her, cutting off her reply.

'So what we're going to do, Cathy, is take that all away from you. I'm going to humiliate and degrade you in the middle of this Library, so that every time you walk in here, you know the truth about who and what you are.'

'I... yes, sir.'

'Now, how many of these do you think you can take?' I gave her another blow with the paddle, watching the red splotches widen on her pale flesh.

'Ow! As... as many as you want, sir.'

I loved how submissive she could be. It was a whole other side to her that no-one else ever got to see. I put my left hand on her head, stroking her hair slowly. 'You'd do that for me? Suffer through a long, hard paddling, just to make my cock hard?'

'Yes, s -- argh!'

The next spank interrupted her answer. 'Ten, I think, dear. That should bruise you up nicely. Give me something pretty to look at while I'm reaming out your arsehole.'

A tiny moan escaped her lips. I smiled in satisfaction.

Then I began the paddling, pausing for several long seconds after every strike. It gave her time for the heat to spread and for the arousal to soak into her cunt. And it gave me time to plan each blow, to make sure that every inch of her arse burnt bright red.

I savoured the tenth blow, watching her lithe body jerk in pain, her hair flicking upwards as her neck arched.

Fuck. She looked incredible.

She sounded good, too: her gasps gradually slowing as the sting dissipated. I dropped the paddle and put my hand on her arse, stroking over the inflamed skin. Perhaps a tiny part of me was doing it to ease the burn, but mostly I just enjoyed touching her, enjoyed feeling the heat with my own fingers.

'Ready to continue, dear?'

'God yes,' she whispered. 'Uh, god yes, sir, I mean.'

'Stand up and take off your skirt. Then fold it and put it on the table behind.'

Her eager eyes never left mine as she stripped it off, and returned to me quickly, after she'd put the skirt on the table.

'Time to get your tits out, Cathy.'

'Yes, sir.'

'But do it slowly, one button at a time.'

Her fingers set to work, easing the light blue shirt open. As she exposed more and more of her chest, I could see that that she was wearing a dark green bra that clashed horribly with her pink thong. Though it was fairly sexy in itself, pushing up her small breasts and framing them nicely.

'The bra too, sir?' asked Cathy, as she placed her discarded shirt on the table.

'What do you think?'

Her hands went to the back fastening.

'No, Cathy. I asked you a question. Tell me what you think.'

She swallowed. 'I think you want to see my tits, sir.'

'Mmm. Clever girl. Go ahead then.'

The bra fell to the floor. Her beautiful tits bare for my eyes, so that she stood naked except for her thong, her socks and a pair of black shoes with small heels.

'Stand with your feet further apart,' I ordered. 'Yes, that's right. Now put your hands on the back of your head. Elbows out at right angles.'

I took a step closer to her and caressed her right cheek. Once more, she stared straight into my eyes, giving me all the more satisfaction when I slapped the same cheek, hard.

The impact spun her head around, allowing me to lean in and whisper into her ear.

'You're a dirty, fucking whore.'

I grabbed her throat in my left hand, holding her steady so I could slap her again. The crack echoed around the Library.

'Cathy?'

'Yes, sir?'

'You're a dirty, fucking whore.'

I allowed my grip on her throat to tighten. 'Cathy?'

'Sir?'

'What are you?'

Tears had appeared in her eyes. I didn't know if it was from the slapping or the humiliation. 'I'm a dirty... a dirty, fucking whore,' she whispered.

'Louder.'

She gritted her teeth for a moment, as if swallowing down her emotions. 'I'm a dirty fucking whore!'

This was hard for her. Despite her confidence and her perversions, she came from a pretty respectable family. She wasn't used to saying the words that turned her on so much.

'You really are, my dear. There's no escaping it. You're clad in nothing but your flimsy knickers, with a very red bottom, in the middle of the Law School Library. Frankly, that's slutty even for a whore. And you know the things you'll be doing very soon, don't you?'

Cathy nodded, staring down at her feet.

I slapped her right breast. 'Answer me, whore!'

'I can imagine, sir.'

Smiling, I gestured behind me. 'Go into my rucksack and get out your tail.'

Her eyes closed for a second, as a red blush swept across her skin. As she did so, one of the tears fell down her left cheek. But she obeyed without question, walking over to the rucksack and taking out her 'tail'.

It was basically a flogger, but with a large plug at the other end instead of a handle. She handed it to me, without making eye contact, then returned to her previous position with her hands on the back of her head.

I stepped up against her and placed my free hand in her hair, twirling several locks between my fingers. 'Cathy, my dear, how wet do you think your thong is, right now?'

'I don't know, sir.'

'Put two fingers down, sweetheart. Find out.'

She obeyed. I kept my eyes on her, watching the humiliation flicker across her face. 'Well?'

'They're... they're soaked, sir.'

'Hm. That's odd, isn't it? I've been hurting you, haven't I? Why are you so wet?'

She looked up at me. 'Because I like it, sir. You know I do.'

'I see.' I held up the tail. 'And do you like this?'

Her face was already red from where I'd slapped it, but I could see it go redder still. 'Yes, sir.'

'Really? Where does it go?'

'In my arse, sir.'

I raised an eyebrow. 'Fascinating. Well, my dear, what I want you to do is this. I'm going to flog your cute little tits. Once you can't take it any more, I want you to beg me to put this tail inside your naughty bottom.'

A low moan whispered through her lips. 'Yes, sir.'

I stepped back and swung the flogger in one fluid motion, cracking it across her breasts. A sound erupted from her lungs that could only be called a screech.

Cathy, as it happens, has very sensitive nipples.

Swinging again, I relished the next cry that echoed off the bookshelves.

It was fascinating. There were so many pertinent questions. How much louder would she get? Just how much could she handle? And the why of it... that was the most interesting. She could beg at any time. As soon as she did, I'd stop and wedge the erstwhile flogger up her crack, giving her the humiliation that would get her off.

But she didn't. She endured each successive crack of the flogger. And why? Because that was her order. To beg only when she could take no more. And more importantly, because she knew that her suffering pleased me.

The pain got so much that each scream trailed into the other: lessening by the tiniest increment in my back-swing, before rising up louder than before with each fresh impact.

Fuck, but she was tough. Her hands hadn't moved from the back of her head.

I stepped up to her once more, and took one of her inflamed nipples between my fingers. 'You can beg now, my dear,' I said, idly twisting it, while gazing into her tear-stained eyes. 'You've done incredibly well.'

'Argh! Please, Tom, please...'

I let go of her nipple and looked at her seriously. 'Tell me what you want.'

'Please, put it in my arse, sir.'

'Hm.' I leant in and brushed my lips against hers. 'That's not all, my dear. I'm sure it feels quite lovely wedged tight up there, but the sensation isn't really the point, is it?'

She stared up at me. 'No, sir.'

'So take a moment to think. Take a couple of deep breaths. Then tell me what you want.'

Something savage glinted in her eyes. She'd gone beyond shame, now. She was my conspirator in the depravity. 'I want you to humiliate me, Tom. To make me your whore. Your bitch. Your... animal.'

A small smile tweaked at the corners of my lips. I nodded my head. 'As you wish.'

I ordered her to stay in position as I got some lube out of my bag. 'Take it, animal. Get your thong off and lube up your arsehole for me. Two fingers ought to do it.'

She obeyed.

And I watched. Watched her sit down on the floor, bringing one leg up, her cunt and the crease beneath brazenly bared. Watched her squeeze the lube onto her fingers, circle her anal ring for a second and then force two fingers inside.

'Enjoying that, Cathy? Finger-fucking your own arse?'

A small wince flickered over her face, and I could see that despite my previous thought, she wasn't entirely beyond shame. 'Yes, sir,' she said, staring at my shoes. 'Very much, sir.'

'Good. Now, be a good whore and kneel down with your face in the carpet. Spread your cheeks for me, too.'

Cathy had a proper cunt. None of this porn nonsense with each hair meticulously plucked or waxed or whatever the hell they did. Why would a grown woman have a cunt like that? No, when Cathy bared it all for me, I got to see something special. And the scents caught in there, too, magnified by it.

I left her like that -- exposed and vulnerable -- as I took the lube and applied it to the plug end of her tail.

She groaned when I placed it against her entrance, and groaned even louder when I pushed it in.

'There we go, dear. You're now a perfect little bitch.'

I swatted her still red arse.

'Wag your tail, dog.'

Perhaps it was silly, but it was humiliating and that was more important. My girlfriend, naked except for her shoes and socks, shook her arse repeatedly, causing the tail to sway back and forth.

'Perfect, Cathy, just perfect. But what else do dogs do? We need to come up with something, don't we?' I picked up her discarded thong. 'Let's play fetch.'

There's only so much range you can get with a thrown piece of cotton. Luckily, it was soaking wet, which probably added a few feet. In any case, I managed two or three metres.

'Crawl after it, slowly.'

She obeyed and I took great pleasure watching her arse cheeks sway with each step. I imagined the plug inside her and how that must feel, and the gentle swish of the tail against the back of her thighs that would remind her of what she looked like and just what I would be seeing.

'Pick it up in your teeth. Bring it back to me.'

The sight of her crawling back, lacy thong dangling from her teeth, was even more arousing than the sight of her tail and arse had been. Her eyes were half-lidded, and I knew her mind was slipping away in a mix of eroticism and shame.

'Goodness me, girl,' I said, once she'd reached me. 'What have you got there? Some bad little slut has made a real mess in her knickers. Sit back on your haunches and hold them up higher, so I can see.'

She arched her neck so the bulk of damp fabric now rested on her out-thrust chin.

'This is your shame, whore,' I said, crouching down in front of her. 'Proof of just what a lowly little prostitute you are.'

'Yes, sir,' she whispered.

I began to finger the wet spot, rubbing it against her skin. 'Do you really think that good, intelligent girls would be here, right now? Tail in arse, damp knickers hanging from their mouth...'

'No, sir.'

'You're worthless, my dear. You are nothing but a cock-sucker.'

She swallowed. 'Yes, sir.'

Slowly, I placed both hands around her throat and began to squeeze. 'Say it, whore. I like to hear it from your lips.'

'I'm... worthless...' She pushed the words out with difficulty. 'I'm noth... ing... buh..'