The Dark Library (3 page)

She shuddered at the feel of him, so thick
and hard and long! The first man grasped her legs, jerking them up
and apart, and she moaned as the other two moved in on either side,
to watch. But each grabbed a leg, pulling it wide, holding it
easily. The second man was undoing his pants, and pulling himself
out, and her body crackled with electricity as he guided her
fingers around his thick shaft.

*

Hannah raised her head, her right hand
reaching out for the bottle. Breathing rapidly now she drew it down
between her legs. It had a rounded top, and she pressed it firmly
against her sex, turning and twisting it, groaning as the pressure
against her grew. In her dream, she imagined the man pushing his
cock against her, rubbing it up and down, then slowly sinking it
into her. And as she did, she slowly forced the thick bottle
through the taut, aching lips of her sex.

She gasped at the ache, for the bottle was
quite thick, but she needed the ache, the pain, for some reason. It
grounded her. And it made the pleasure so much hotter and wilder by
comparison. She groaned as she slowly worked the thick bottle
through her slick opening, her legs spasming a little as she tried
to pull them wider. She lay her head back, moaning, half the bottle
inside her now.

She could use only one hand on it, now, and
so the other slid up onto her breast, squeezing and needing it.

With her head back, she was looking up at the
roof, and even the roof behind her. She was certainly not looking
at the big flat screen at the foot of the bed. If she had, she
would have seen the scene change abruptly. First there was a red
flashing light around its edge, then the letters “incoming call”
appeared across the screen. A few seconds later, the screen changed
and showed a head and shoulders shot of a man about ten years her
senior.

He was had a slender face, and boyishly cut
hair with bangs spilling untidily across his forehead. He wore a
crisp, expensive suit and tie, and had an impatient look on his
face which quickly changed to surprise, then amusement as he
watched what was laid out before him. His blue eyes flickered down
to the thick bottle Hannah was slowly pushing deeper into her sex,
and narrowed with interest and hunger.

He made no sound as he watched the thick
bottle slide in, then out, in, and out, pushing and twisting,
deeper and deeper as Hannah gasped with excitement, heat, and
effort. He could not see her face, but only her breasts and body,
but what he could see was more than sufficient to keep his
attention.

*

The first man pushed himself into her as she
squirmed on the counter, her bare buttocks sliding across the damp
surface. He was soon deep inside her, her belly straining to
accommodate his massive cock as he thrust in and out, moving slowly
at first due to his size, but leaning into her and moving faster
and faster as she gasped and moaned in helpless pain and pleasure.
She was slumped back on the counter, her bottom at the edge as his
big cock slid into her, and then he leaned in and kissed her again,
crushing her lips once more as his hips ground against her.

Then, abruptly, she was in the shower,
standing bent forward, forced face-first against the cool, shining
tiles, her legs spread. One of the other men was behind her, the
one with long hair past his shoulders. He was nude, as nude as she
was, and he growled as he jerked back on her hips and pushed
himself into her from behind.

*

Hannah gasped as she quickly rolled over on
the bed, raising her bottom high, knees spread wide. She jammed her
face into the pillows, reaching beneath her with both hands. One
gripped the bottle, thrusting it in and out, while the other
fingered her swollen, burning clit. She ground her hips back,
visualizing the workman taking her from behind, his hands on her
breasts, his hips slapping against her buttocks his big cock
thrusting deep into her belly.

God, he was deep!
She forced the
bottle in hard, not caring that it hurt. The pain only made her
more aroused as she rolled her hips and whimpered excitedly.

She forced herself up, gasping, legs spread.
In her mind she was on the third man, riding his cock, riding up
and down as her breasts hung over his face and his hands reached
for them. The bottle was beneath her, and she rode it, shuddering,
trembling as she sank down hard. When she was really excited she
could get the entire bottle inside her. It was over ten inches, but
she had most of it in now, and as she jammed herself down upon it
and squeezed her breasts she felt the orgasm approaching and then
threw her face forward, burying it against the pillows as she came,
as she cried out again and again, grinding and bucking and jerking
against the bed, against the bottle, against her fingers, as
seething waves of sexual heat and pleasure rolled over her.

Slowly, her body stopped its desperate
movements, and went still, gasping, moaning. Hannah slowly half
rolled over, groaning as the heaviness in her lower belly, at the
strained feeling in her pussy. She rolled onto her back, at last,
laying still, legs sprawled untidily out to either side, chest
heaving.

“Well, that was quite an interesting
introduction, Miss Quinn.”

Hannah's eyes abruptly widened. She hadn't
hear that?! Had she?!

She jerked upright, staring towards the
stairs, but no one was there, no one was in the room. And then her
eyes lit on the television, and the man there who could almost be
looking at her.

“My name is Robert Carling,” he said. “I
called to welcome you to Carling Manor and to discuss your ideas
for the library.”

Hannah stared at the image in disbelief, jaw
open, frozen, a sudden shocking suspicion filling her mind, one
which she was too horrified to accept.

“I suppose Patrick failed to familiarize you
with the videophones which are set up around the manor?” he said.
“Well, that's all right. I'm sure you'll come to understand how
they work soon. In the interim, yes, I can see you quite clearly,
so you might want to, er, cover yourself somewhat if you're feeling
modest.”

She was so stunned, so mortified she couldn't
accept it. Hannah could only stare at the screen in disbelief.

“Not that I mind, really. You have quite a
beautiful body. It's good to know you're responsible enough to keep
a good exercise regime, what with you being occupied in a rather
sedentary occupation. I respect people who take care of their
bodies.”

Hannah screamed and threw herself out of bed,
tumbling to the floor, out of sight of the TV, then scrambled on
hands and knees around behind it, eyes wide, face turning beet red
as the full enormity of what had happened sank into her horrified
mind. He hadn't merely seen her naked! Oh no, he had seen her
masturbating! With a bottle! The bottle which was still jammed into
her pussy all the way to the base!

She knelt on the floor and put her hands over
her burning face, too shocked by the intensity of the realization
to cope with it. Denial swept through her, but she knew it was
useless. Even if he had come in at the last minute he'd seen her
riding the bottle, seen her jamming herself down on it, seen and
heard her orgasm!!

The only thought in her head then was to get
away! She had to run! She ha to grab her things and get out before
he came near her, before she had to meet him!

“Miss Quinn? Are you there? We still have a
lot to discuss,” he said, ridiculously calmly.

How could she turn the bloody thing off!?
There wasn't even a cord to pull! But as she put her hands on the
top corner she realized it could be swiveled, and so she slowly
turned it, keeping right in behind, turned it away from the bed and
towards the fireplace. Then she grabbed the control box and turned
it off.

The fucking bottle was still inside her!

Frantically, she pulled it free, throwing it
furiously against the wall as she grabbed for clothes. She would
leave her wardrobe behind! She simply had to get out before he saw
her! She would abandon the job and head home, and never answer the
phone again without being certain it wasn't him! Before she saw
him! She jumped into the clothes she'd worn up on the train,
grabbed her purse, shoved her feet into the pumps, and ran for the
door

She half fell down the stairs, yanked open
the door – and screamed, falling back onto the stairs as she saw
him standing there, looking mildly irritated.

“Miss Quinn,” he said, impatiently. “I don't
appreciate being hung up on.”

She turned and scrambled back up the stairs,
horrified, but there was no way out, no way to hide, and he came up
behind her. She moved as far as the far wall and then stopped,
grabbing the window sill, refusing to turn around.

“Bloody women,” he said with a world-weary
sigh. “Miss Quinn, we all have naked bodies. Yours is exceptionally
attractive as compared to most, so you really have nothing to be
ashamed of there. As for your masturbation – .”

Hannah cringed at the word.

“Well, virtually everyone masturbates. Just
as everyone goes to the bathroom. I really never could understand
the dreadful embarrassment around the subject. Mind you, I've never
been exactly normal.”

“P-please go away!” she said in a horribly
squeaky voice.

She was going to burst into tears in a
moment!

“I masturbate. Would you like to watch
me?”

“No!” she gasped.

“No? Well, men are rather more voyeuristic
than women.”

“You could have warned me!”

“Of what? Patrick was supposed to familiarize
you with the videophones.”

“You saw... that... and kept watching!” she
gulped, fighting back tears, still refusing to look around.

“Yes, well, I must admit, I am a male. But I
don't think it's incumbent upon me to apologize for that. I don't
know any males who would have turned away from a sight like that.
Perhaps the pope would have, or a gay man. No one else.”

“I-I need to leave now,” she said
shakily.

“Yes, I rather suspected that was your
intent. I won't have it. I've already waited long enough to get
that library in shape and I'm not putting it off for another month
or two just because you're gotten all girlishly embarrassed that
I've accidentally seen your naughty bits.”

Hannah felt a sudden ferocious anger. How
dare he make light of what had happened!? The filthy pervert!
Staring at her like that!

Her anger spun her around, her hand coming
up, finger stabbing at him.

“Now you're mad at me for not immediately
ducking away the moment I saw your lovely body,” he said, “for
doing what was natural for me to do even as you did what was
natural for you to do. I was told you were a very grounded young
women with an intelligent head on your shoulders. So stop crying
about spilled milk that's already been cleared away and let's
discuss your role here.”

“I-I...I have no role! I'm leaving!”

“Walking home are you?”

She stared at him stupidly.

“There's no train before tomorrow, and what's
more Patrick has taken the car, so you aren't leaving, not unless
you intend to walk.”

She jerked her head away. “Please go away!”
she begged between clenched teeth.

“No. It's my home and no one can order me
about in it. Besides, hair of the dog that bit you, girl.”

He grabbed her wrist as he turned away,
jerking her along with him effortlessly before she could even think
to struggle. He wasn't a tall man, not like the men in her dreams.
He wasn't even broad of shoulder or chest. But he was deceptively
strong, and simply flung her into a stuffed chair where she landed
with an indignant squawk of surprise.

“You're horribly ashamed and can hardly bear
to look at me,” he said, waving his hand dismissively. “Yes, yes,
yes. Well, the more you see me, the weaker that will get. Put it
behind you like a good girl and we can get on with work.”

The colossal arrogance of the man took her
breath away, almost distracting her from her humiliation!

“You – !”

“Oh do be quiet,” he said. “Don't tell me
about how indignant you are at me. I'm Lord bloody Carling” he
said, raising his voice. “I'm an arrogant, conceited, obnoxious
bastard! Everyone says so and it's bloody true! Including all the
women I've run through as though they were yesterday's socks. No
one can stand me! Well, too damned bad for them!”

Hannah's eyes narrowed, shame giving way to
anger.

“Now let's look at your options, Miss Quinn.
I have no intention of forcibly confining you here or standing over
you with a whip to make you organize my library. But you will do so
regardless. Breaking the contract I've already signed with your
employer will get you fired. What's more, if I have to tell them
why you refuse to work here, well, let me suggest you won't be
getting a very good recommendation from them.”

She colored again, furiously, jerking her
eyes down.

“So, rather than you running back home to go
on the dole because some horrible man saw you masturbating, why not
act like a grown-up and get on with your bloody job?!”

“You are a bastard!' she hissed.

“Too bloody right I am! But I can afford to
be. You see this place? It was a tumbling ruin up until a few years
ago when I bought it. And how did I buy it? My father gave me a
title and precious little else. I went to university, and I started
up an electronics company, and I worked twenty hours a day and made
myself a millionaire, and then a multimillionaire I'm worth a
bloody fortune now and I have five thousand odd people working for
me. I have a right to my arrogance, Miss Quinn,” he snapped.

He smoothed his face and examined her. “I had
planned to offer to double your salary, by the way, if that's any
consideration.”