The Librarian

People who have never tried it have no idea how liberating it is to offer total obedience. I know that sounds contradictory. But a woman who has given up everything once, will never be satisfied with a normal relationship. I almost said a normal loving relationship. But nothing can be as loving as obedience. A virgin bride on her wedding night thinks she gives herself to her husband, but she has no idea what giving herself totally means. Total obedience means giving up all control of what happens to you sexually. Giving up all responsibility for your actions. Giving up your safety to someone you must trust will keep you safe.

Some people like the words master and slave, but I don't like those words. In fact I like to call the girl just girl, whatever her age. Somehow giving up your name is part of the liberation. The girl calls me lord.

Of course, it's fun to take an ingénue, an inexperienced young woman, a girl who has never offered total obedience. An ingénue always needs to be trained. Total obedience usually has to be taken before it is offered willingly. Then the ingénue becomes a neophyte, a new convert to obedience. Obedience is a powerful drug, though. Once an ingénue reaches the neophyte stage then she will never be satisfied with the sort of romantic relationship portrayed in books and movies. She can never be satisfied with equality. She needs to be dominated to make her feel whole.

There are two types of girls after that. A girl that has found the right lord. She is satisfied and deeply content. But she is unavailable, unless her lord gives her to me for a time. A night, a week, a lifetime.

The second type of girl is one that has not found the right lord. Either she has no lord, or a lord from whom she knows she will need to gain release. I call this sort of girl a fetlifer. She spends a lot of time on places like the fetlife website seeking what she probably calls a new master. I never go on fetlife. I like to find girls in real life, in a bar, in a store, on the bus. It is subtle, seeing that look in their eyes, seeing the relief when you make it clear that you know their secret, the gratitude when you take their responsibility away and make all their decisions for them.

This story starts in the supermarket. It was late in the evening, maybe approaching ten-o-clock. She was in the line a few people ahead of me. I saw that look in her eye. I held her gaze, and she held mine a little too long, and then looked down. I knew. More importantly, she knew I knew. She was a fetlifer.

"Wait for me at the car," I said called to her casually, as if I already knew her. The people in the line between us had no idea what was going on. They had no idea that the girl in front of them was conflicted. She was frightened at what she was going to do, but excited at the prospect. It is like in one of those nature documentaries where the male has to risk being eaten to mate with the female. Except in this case it is the female who has to risk all to get what she has to have. She would be desperate to get in her car and drive off. But she would wait for me, because that's what I'd told her to do, and that is what a girl does when a lord gives her an order.

I looked at her while the cashier bagged her groceries. She was wearing jeans and flipflops, a low-cut white t-shirt and another long-sleeved shirt over the top. Nice sized breasts without being overly busty. She wore a red bra that her t-shirt didn't totally hide. She was blonde. Tall, given that she was just in flipflops. It was hard to tell her age, maybe mid-thirties, maybe a bit older. It looked like she'd just thrown something on to go to the supermarket. She certainly hadn't dressed as if she expected to meet someone.

She was easy to spot outside. Despite the late hour, she was standing beside her car rather than sitting in it. The fact that she was there, and hadn't driven off, meant that I'd guessed right, but I thought I'd better check anyway. In this age, the line between giving a girl what she needs, and assaulting her, is too fine.

I looked at her under the drab lights of the parking lot. Her nostrils seemed a little flared, her face a little flushed. She was sexually excited.

"What color are your panties?" I said.

"Blue and white stripes," she replied without hesitation.

"Bra size?"

"36C."

"Are you plugged?"

"No."

"Do you want to be?"

"I want to be plugged if you want to plug me." That was the right answer. I decided to go to the next stage.

"Do you know the Starbucks down the block? It's open until midnight. I'll meet you there in five minutes."

I wanted to meet her the first time on neutral ground. I could have taken her to my house, but a smart girl doesn't go to a stranger's house without a bit more reassurance than having been asked about her underwear. And I hoped she was smart. I like smart girls. Maybe her own house would have been a possibility, but maybe she lived with someone, or had children. Plus, a smart girl doesn't let a stranger invite himself to her house.

She waited for me to drive out of the almost deserted supermarket parking lot, and then she drove after me. In Starbucks, since it was late, I got a decaf Americano for myself, and a decaf cappuccino for her. I didn't ask he what she wanted, a lord never asks a girl what she wants. We sat down at a table away from everyone else.

"This is the only meeting we'll have where you can tell me what you want," I said. "After today, I decide what you get."

"Okay."

"I expect you to call me lord."

"Yes, lord."

"I'll just call you girl. I don't care about your name. I'll probably overhear it at some point. You don't have to make an effort to keep it secret. Just don't expect me to use it."

"Yes, lord."

"I'll tell you my expectations. If you wish, you can leave tonight and I'll never contact you again. If you stay, I expect complete commitment."

"Yes, lord."

"I only do my girls in the ass, I'm afraid. If that's a deal-breaker, you can leave now. But don't worry, there'll be other boys and girls to take care of your pussy."

"It's not a deal-breaker. But..."

"Yes, girl?"

"I've only done anal once. And it hurt. I always refused since then."

"With me it will only hurt if I want it to. Otherwise it'll just be intense. Have you been whipped? Or caned?"

"Caned. And spanked, with a hand. By a previous master."

"Did it make you wet?"

"Yes, lord. Very wet."

"Do you live alone?"

"Yes."

"No boyfriend?"

"I've a boyfriend, but he doesn't live with me."

"Do you want to keep him?"

"If you want me to, lord."

"Does he know?"

"No."

"He's never spanked you?"

"No. Well, just a playful slap during doggie style. Not a proper spanking."

"Then you can keep him for now. Maybe I'll make you tell him one day. Have you been with another girl?"

"Yes. My roommate and I fooled around a few times when we were drunk."

"Did you lick her?"

"No. But I let her lick me."

"Did you cum?"

"Yes." She looked away.

"You felt guilty the next morning?"

She gave a small laugh. "Yes, lord. It was a bit too lezzy, given I'm straight."

"None of your previous masters made you lick a girl?"

"One did. Although she was a much older woman. It was a bit weird."

"I'll make you lick a younger girl for me one day."

"I know, lord."

"You'll enjoy teenager more than an old woman. Especially if it's her first time."

She was doing well answering the questions I reeled off. She didn't seem to be trying to hide anything like some girls do when things are just starting.

"Do you own a plug? An anal plug."

"No, lord."

"Good. I will pick one for you. Can you wear a collar?"

"How do you mean?"

"If I put a collar on you, one you can't take off, will it cause you a lot of problems? I don't mean your boyfriend, he has to just suck it up. But work and stuff."

"I can't really do that. I'm a librarian. Parents wouldn't be happy if I was collared in front of their kids. And kids watch porn from such an early age now. At least a few of them would know what it was."

"Plus, librarians are supposedly all lesbians."

She laughed. "I'm not, obviously. But a surprisingly large number are."

"Where do you work?"

She told me then name of one of the libraries in town.

"Are you inked?"

"I have one tattoo, a butterfly. On my side. Do you need to see it?"

"Not now. It's not really practical here in Starbucks. But I want you to show your commitment by getting another?"

"Another butterfly?"

"No. I want it on your mound. Just above the slit of your sex."

"Yes, lord. What do you want it to be?"

I'd tried various tattoos over the years. A particular type of flower that was significant only to me and the girl, and would see innocuous to other lovers. My name or phone number, but that could lead to something dangerous. The best was a compromise. Something that was clearly sexual but also unidentifiable. Not only the girl and I would know it's significance, so would anybody that fucked her in the future.

"I want it to be a big letter 'O'. A circle. And inside I want it to have the letters 'wned' to show that you are owned. Only people you have sex with will see it, so it shouldn't cause any problems with parents. Or children."

"Yes, lord."

"Are you okay with that?"

"Does it matter? Don't I have to do it anyway? To show my commitment."

"I told you that today is different. If you are really not okay with it, then tell me. Like you did about the collar. I may make you do it anyway. Or I may not. It depends on which I think you desire the most. To get your way, or to yield unwillingly."

"I'll do it."

"When will you do get it done?"

"I'll try tomorrow. For sure I can the day after."

"Is there anything I need to know?"

"Like what?"

"Like you're asthmatic, or diabetic."

"No. Nothing like that."

"Are you on the pill?"

"Yes. But I thought...you were only going to do me anally."

"But other boys will take care of your pussy when I want it taken care of. And I don't like condoms."

"But...is that safe?"

"Whose job is it to keep you safe?"

"Yours, lord."

"Do you like sucking cock?"

"Yes, lord, I love it. Will I get to suck yours? Or just other boys?"

"You'll only get to suck mine when you give me special pleasure. You only get to swallow my cum as a reward."

"It'll be a treat."

"How often do you masturbate?"

She thought for a moment. "I suppose every couple of days. Very occasionally twice in a day."

"From now on, you need my permission. If I'm with you, then you can ask and I'll let you do it while I watch. If I'm not there, you have to text or call me for permission."

"Yes, lord."

"Do you use fingers or a toy?"

"I have two vibrators. One that goes inside me. A little one that goes on my clit. Sometimes I use my fingers."

"I'll decide what you use. When you text me for permission. Let's practice tonight."

"Tonight?"

"When you get home, I know you'll want to masturbate. You need to text me for permission. Maybe I'll let you. Maybe I'll frustrate you and say no. If you disobey, you'll be punished."

"Of course."

"At this stage in our relationship, I'll just not see you for a few days. That is the worst punishment."

"And later, lord?"

"Once I know what you like and don't, what your pain threshold is, then I can perhaps punish you in more exciting ways." I paused. "Exciting for me, that is. Like hot wax. Or figging you."

"Yes, lord. I don't even know what that is."

"Have you been on fetlife?"

"Of course, lord. But I never saw you on there."

"I don't go on fetlife. I prefer to find girls in the real world like I did tonight."

"It's certainly different this way. More exciting."

"Are you wet?"

"I think so."

"I want to taste you before I go."

"Yes, lord."

"Undo your jeans. Slip your hand inside. Finger your pussy. Then let me lick your fingers."

The girl looked around Starbucks to make sure nobody was paying attention to us. Then she undid the button on her jeans and slid the zipper down. I could see the blue and white stripes of her panties in the gap. She pushed her hand inside her panties.

"Are you shaved?" I said as she fingered herself.

"No. I have hair. But blondes don't seem to have a lot."

"I like bare."

"Yes, lord."

She pulled her hand out of her panties. I took her hand and pushed each of her fingers in turn into my mouth and licked them. Two of them tasted of her pussy.

"I didn't expect to taste that when I went shopping tonight."

She laughed. "I didn't expect to be tasted."

"Are you happy we met?"

"So far it's incredible. So exciting. Of course, I'm scared too."

"Tell me what you're scared of."

"Of what you'll make me do. Who you'll make me do it with. Who you'll make me do it in front of. How much pain it will involve. That I have to get a permanent tattoo even to find out."

"What's your favorite fruit?"

"Blueberries."

"That's your safeword. You know what a safeword is, right?"

"Yes."

"However, you only get to use it once. I'll stop, and you leave and never come back."

"But what if I can't take the pain. I need it to stop."

"It's your decision. You either take the pain for me, or you leave."

"Okay." She sighed in resignation. "...lord."

"Do you watch porn?"

"Occasionally. Not much."

"When you masturbate?"

"Yeah. But not every time."

"No porn tonight."

"Yes, lord."

"So go home. Have a shower. Shave off your hair. Get into bed naked. Text me for permission. I promise I'll say yes tonight. Then imagine me fucking you in the ass while you masturbate. Use your fingers, not a toy. And enjoy your newly hairless pussy."

"Yes, lord."

"And tomorrow, get the tattoo."

"Yes, lord. I will try during my lunch break."

"Unlock your phone," I said. She pressed her fingerprint on the button and the phone unlocked. She passed it to me. I entered my phone number under the name 'lord'. I sent myself a text.

"girl"

My phone beeped. She had my number, and I had hers. I got up. She got up, then realized her jeans were still undone, sat down, and buttoned them up. Then the two of us left.

It was nearly an hour later that she texted me. "permission to touch lord"

"granted girl"

**

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