In the Library
She was checking her watch, looking at the student sitting in the corner. She sighed. It was nearly 9 PM, time to close up. Adjusting her glasses, the librarian made her way to the last customer of the day. The student sitting at the table was curvy and voluptous. Her blonde curls had pink cotton candy highlights and she was wearing a glittery shirt with a unicorn print. She was chewing on a pen, seemingly focused on the book she was reading. Sporting a cute style, the small wrinkles around her eyes told another story. There was something cheeky yet mature about her.
The librarian stopped in front of the young woman who seemed to ignore her presence. She cleared her throat and the student looked up. “Girl, I am closing the library in a few minutes. I have watched you all day, and you have been more daydreaming than studying. So it is not like another two minutes at this table would make a huge difference. So get up and go. I am done for the day.” The student looked at her with big brown eyes. “My name is Lorna. And how dare you. I was totally focused. What looked like daydreaming, was me thinking! But yeah yeah, I am gonna go. Geez!” Lorna rolled her eyes at the librarian who seemed stunned at the response. A moment of silence.
“So you are telling me that was thinking? Ha! Show me what you are studying!” Lorna looked closer at the librarian. She was in her late 40s. her grey hair was in a ponytail, she wore a pencil skirt, big glasses and was tall. Her eyes stopped at the woman’s white blouse. Nipples were showing under the soft fabric. “Not a fan of bras, this weirdo” Lorna thought to herself. She squinted her eyes and then pushed the book she had been trying to focus on all day over the librarian. 19th Century German Philosophy. She needed to pass the class this semester as she had already flunked it last year.
“You don’t seem like the philosophy type. Mmm.” – “You aren’t great at reading people then!” The librarian stayed silent and looked at Lorna, with a stern look on her face. “You are an insolent girl, aren’t you? Well, show me then. Let’s make this a game. I will ask you a question. And for every wrong answer, I get to punish you.” – “And for every right answer?” Lorna seemed interested. “For every right answer, you will be rewarded, silly girl.” Lorna smiled. “Alright, let’s play this stupid game of yours. But I want a way out if this gets weird.” – “Your safeword is Foucault. Say his name and we stop.” – “Haha! Foucault it is.”
The librarian walked over to her desk, leaned over it and grabbed something. She retuned with a cane in her hand, holding it firmly. Lorna swallowed, simultaneously intrigued and scared. “So” the librarian was walking up and down in front of the anticipating student, “let’s start with something simple. Who was the the most influential German existentialist philosopher of the 19th century? – “Kierkegaard!” Lorna exclaimed. The librarian laughed. “Silly girl. He was Danish, and he was long dead when Schopenhauer lived, which would have been the correct answer. Mmmm. What shall your punishment be?” Lorna held her breath.
“Take your top and bra off. Insolent girls who haven’t studied hard enough, aren’t allowed to hide their nakedness from the world.” – “But!” – “Was that a French name I heard?” – “No. but … ” – “Take your clothes off, Lorna!” The girl got up and pulled her unicorn shirt over her head, and then removed her pink bra. Her big round breasts were exposed now, her nipples erect. The librarian smiled. “You look wonderful. Good girl.” Lorna grinned, a sudden shiver of pleasure running through her. “Now sit down again. Next question!” Lorna focused. She was going to get this one right.
“God is what, according to Nietzsche? You really should know this one, girl.” Lorna thought hard. “Nietzsche. Nietzsche. Moustache. Nietzsche. Something Mensch. Ubermensch. God is an Ubermensch!” – “That is a wrong answer again. You really haven’t done your work, Lorna. Dead, my dear. God is dead. You really need to study harder. Ready for your punishment?” Lorna nodded. She had given the wrong answer after all. “Get up. Hands behind your back. Look at me. Yes. You need to study harder, girl. This is going to hurt. Are you ready?”
Lorna froze, staring at the cane in the librarian’s hand. “I asked: are you ready?” – Yes, I am ready.” Lorna held her breath. One hard strike of the cane on her right breast, Lorna screamed and jumped back. The librarian looked at her, sternly. Lorna took a step forward and closed her eyes. A hard strike on her left breast. “Now sit down again” she heard the librarian say. Like in a trance she walked back to her chair and sat down. “Why did I like this?” She was confused, yet spellbound by the control the librarian apparently had over her.
“Do you want to continue, girl?” – Yes, Mistress.” – “Oh, look at you, learning fast!” The librarian smiled. “Name three thinkers who had influenced Karl Marx! You have many options. All I need is three names, Lorna. Go!” – “Engels! Uh uh uh. Hitler! No, not Hitler. Smith, what was his first name? Adam Smith! And uh uh. Goethe, maybe? I don’t know. Goethe. Engels, Smith and Goethe!” The librarian shook her head. “You were almost right. His theories were an answer to Smith’s ideas, Engels was his companion in thought. But Goethe? No. Hegel would have been the perfect answer here. Oh, Lorna. What am I going to do with you?”
The librarian looked down at the waiting student. “I let you choose your punishment. Another two strikes with the cane, or you take the rest of your clothes off. Your choice.” A smile was running over Lorna’s face. She got up and silently removed her shoes, jeans and socks and knickers. “Mmm. Nice. You are a very sexy girl, Lorna.” The librarian stood still for a while, not uttering a word.
“Let’s see if you get the next question right. You better!” She was holding the cane with both hands, her legs apart, standing over Lorna. “Who is the father of nihilism? This is an easy one, Lorna!” Lorna thought hard. It must be Kafka, surely. “Kafka. He was the first one writing really nihilist literature.” Lorna grinned. She had this one in the bag.
The look on the librarian’s face said something different. She sighed. “You were lying to me, girl. You really weren’t studying, nor thinking. Kafka was not a philosopher, dear. He was a 20th century writer of fiction. It was Nietzsche.” – “But you already asked a Nietzsche question!” – “So?” – “Not fair!” – “Get up, and turn around, Lorna'” – “Shit!” – “What was that?” – “Nothing. Sorry, Mistress.” – “That was better. Now come on over.” Lorna did as she was told. Her whole body tense, she was anticipating what she knew was coming. A hard strike on her left butt cheek, then another on her right one. Tears were shooting into her eyes. She wasn’t screaming. She closed her eyes, and was suddenly breathing calmly. And she felt aroused. She wanted to touch herself.
“Now go sit down again.” She walked over to her chair and sat down. It hurt but she quite enjoyed the sensation. She looked up at the librarian. “Oh, look at you. That turned you on, didn’t it? I can see it in your face, naughty girl.” The older woman observed the student. “Well, go ahead, Lorna. Touch yourself. I know you want to. Naughty horny girl.”
Lorna spread her legs and rested her feet on the table. Her right hand was sliding in between her legs, her left hand was playing with her breasts. She rubbed her clit, first gently, then harder. She moaned, looking straight into the librarian’s eyes. The woman cleared her throat and with a husky voice said: “Close your eyes, Lorna. Yes, take in all the sensations. The heat from the strikes on your breasts, the pain on your cheeks. The wetness of yourself. Yes.” A moment of silence, all that could be heard were Lorna’s moans. And then a creaking sound.
“Keep your eyes closed. Next question, try to focus. I know it is hard. But you can do it. Who wrote the Essence of Christianity?” Lorna answered instantly. “Ludwig Feuerbach!” – “Oh, yes, girl, that is correct! It is reward time. You get to pick one thing you are allowed to do. What do you want to do?” – “I want to open my eyes, Mistress.” – “Then that is your reward. You can open your eyes.” Lorna opened her eyes, still rubbing herself. The librarian was leaning against her desk, her skirt pulled up, legs spread, touching herself. Lorna held her breath. A wave of pleasure ran through her. The two women couldn’t take their eyes off each other, each of them rubbing their own clit, moaning. The whole library smelled like arousal.
“Don’t finish without me, Lorna. I will count you down, okay? You can come when I tell you.” – “Yes, Mistress.” Lorna sighed loudly.
“Five. Hold it in girl, I see you are almost there. But hold it.” Lorna tensed up.
“Four. Hold it.” The librarian moaned as she watched the wretched look on Lorna’s face.
“Three. Wait for me. Be a good girl.”
“Two. I know you are there. But you are not allowed to. I tell you when.” Lorna started screaming, rubbing fast, her whole body anticipating.
“One. Come with me, girl. Come now. Come!”
The two women were twitching together, both moaning, both spasming under waves of pleasure. As Lorna looked up, she watched the librarian pull down her skirt again and walk towards her. She kissed the student on the head. “Good girl, Lorna. You are a quick learner.” Lorna smiled and looked down on herself, observing the red streaks that the cane had left behind on her breasts. “If the immediate and direct purpose of our life is not suffering then our existence is the most ill-adapted to its purpose in the world.” the librarian remarked. “Schopenhauer!” Lorna exclaimed. The librarian laughed. “Yes, girl. Looks like you have learnt something today after all..”