Jul 012009

Claire Currie was about to put her foot on the steps when a hand grabbed her by her black ponytail. Because she was wearing four-inch heels she barely managed to keep her balance. The tightness of her skirt restricted her long legs, but over a year of practice at dressing this way helped her remain upright. But she was worried about her breasts: The tight white blouse barely contained them on a good day, and being yanked like this didn’t help.

She knew better than to complain, though. It was her boss who had grabbed her by the hair.

“I must have a word with you, Ms. Currie,” Mr. Dillon said. His hand was still wrapped in her hair.

“Of course, Mr. Dillon.”

“Before we visit Ms. Ash, I must tell you that she is not your typical woman,” Mr. Dillon said. “She owns the world’s best collection of books on bondage. Her personal collection includes many one-of-a-kind works that could never be reproduced. She is not only a collector, but also a practitioner of bondage. Ms. Ash has been tying people up since before you were born, and as a result, she expects a certain level of protocol and manners.”

Claire was offended. “Sir, you and I work for the Colette-Ashbee Collection. She owns some books, but we deal in every erotic book ever made. We spoke with a Dutch prince the other week. You yourself have spanked, slapped and disciplined me in 100 ways to remind me to stay in a professional mindset even when your cock is jammed up my ass. I think I know how to behave around a woman who is a little kinky.”

The grip in her hair twisted slightly. Claire realized her mistake.

“I think I know how to behave around a woman who is a little kinky, sir,” she said.

He let go of her hair. He let out a deep breath, and Claire realized something: Mr. Dillon was nervous. She found that idea deeply unsettling.

“Very well, Ms. Currie,” her boss said. “Let’s be on our best behavior here. I don’t know why Ms. Ash requested our presence, but if it is to donate one of her precious books to the collection, we need to make sure we don’t give her a reason to reconsider her choice. The wealthy can be bad enough, but the kinky wealthy are almost mythical in the slights they can perceive.”

Claire nodded. “I understand, Mr. Dillon.”

“And obviously,” he continued, “do not be disturbed by any blatant acts of nudity or fetish wear. The last time I met Ms. Ash, she wore a leather gown designed by Versace. Her hair was pinned with diamonds, and her furniture was freshly imported from a Japanese palace. The woman exudes wealth and poise.”

Claire pushed her glasses back up her nose. “I understand, sir. I will treat her as if she were the Queen Mum herself.”

Mr. Dillon snorted. “The Queen Mum won’t personally strip and hogtie you if you annoy her.”

He pressed the doorbell.

“I remember the first time I met Ms. Ash,” he said with an almost-wistful air. “I had just started working for the collection, serving under Ms. Wei. We were invited to a party that Ms. Ash was giving so she could celebrate her purchase of a bondage guide written in 1843. All of her servants were nude except for the black rope they wore. Everyone below a certain status had to crawl around on all fours. My knees hurt like hell after that night, but it was worth it to be a part of such an elegant affair.”

He stopped his reminiscing when the door opened. He stepped forward and started to say something, but the words died in his mouth.

Claire could see why. A woman in a house robe had answered the door. Her graying red hair was a tangled mess. She wore no makeup, and her eyes were puffy. It was clear to Claire that someone’s senile grandmother was loose on the grounds.

“Ms. Ash?” Mr. Dillon said.

“I am so glad you came, Oliver,” the woman said. “Please, come in.”

Mr. Dillon wasn’t moving. The silence became awkward, and Claire felt the need to act. She gave Mr. Dillon a subtle nudge, and he cautiously walked in. “I’m sorry, Ms. Ash, I guess I wasn’t expecting you to answer the door yourself.”

She took out a tissue and blew her nose. “I gave all the servants the weekend off,” she said. “I just wanted to be alone and not have them underfoot. Who is this woman?”

Mr. Dillon waved his hand vaguely in Claire’s direction. “Ms. Currie is my assistant. Pay her no mind; she is very well behaved.”

Ms. Ash shrugged. “I don’t care,” she said in a despondent tone. “Let’s go to the library and get this over with.”

She pulled her bathrobe tighter around her chest and shuffled down the hallway. Once again, Mr. Dillon just stood there paralyzed. Claire had never seen him in this state before. He was completely perplexed.

A strange feeling came over her. For the past two years, Mr. Dillon had controlled every moment of her employment. There were some days on which she almost feared Mr. Dillon’s strictness and his demands on her. Seeing him this helpless was evoking some weird feelings in her. She felt oddly protective. More important, she felt protective of her professional reputation. Claire knew she had to get him back on track.

Claire gave Mr. Dillon a gentle push. Like an automaton, he stepped inside the house He wasn’t saying anything, though.

“Excuse me, Ms. Ash,” Claire said. Mr. Dillon said nothing about her interruption. “I am not clear why you called on the Colette-Ashbee- Collection.”

“I want to donate my books,” Ms. Ash said.

Mr. Dillon didn’t answer. Claire pressed on. “Oh, how many books were you considering donating?”

Ms. Ash stopped and looked at Claire. “All of them. I want you to take every single one of them. I’m done with bondage.”

Claire didn’t know what to say to that. Ms. Ash apparently didn’t expect a response. She walked to a set of double doors and pushed them open. The sight inside took Claire’s breath away.

It was a personal library like none Claire had seen before. Well, she had seen similar libraries in movies but never in real life. The walls were filled with leatherbound books on polished shelves. Two enormous windows illuminated the room with golden light. A glass case dominated one wall, containing rare manuscripts that had to be temperature controlled. Hardwood floors and an arched ceiling gave the room the feel of an upper-crust sanctuary that keeps out the riffraff.

Ms. Ash shuffled to a leather chair and flopped into it. Claire gently guided Mr. Dillon to another chair, and he sat down. Claire stood behind him and folded her hands in front of her. The library was silent except for the occasional snuffling from Ms. Ash.

Mr. Dillon almost said something and stopped again. Claire sympathized with his speechlessness. The library was amazing, and Ms. Ash was willing to part with all of it?

“Ms. Ash, may I be so bold as to ask a question?” Claire said.

Ms. Ash nodded very slightly. In that imperial nod, Claire saw a tiny glimpse of the woman that Mr. Dillon remembered so fondly.

“I am curious why you are willing to give up bondage, as well as your books,” Claire asked.

Ms. Ash sighed. “You are young and beautiful, so this may be hard for you to understand. The simple fact of the matter is that I am tired of losing lovers to younger dominatrixes. I am tired of my lovers leaving me and my lifetime of knowledge for some leather dyke who uses Velcro in their bondage. I am tired of having my heart broken by selfish children who considers themselves real submissives.”

“I am assuming that you recently had a break-up?” Claire asked.

Ms. Ash sniffled. “I prefer the term ‘betrayal,’ but yes, you are correct. A beautiful little slip of a woman decided that she would rather be with an ignorant mistress her own age!”

“I can see how disappointing that is,” Claire said. “But surely, you cannot give up a passion like bondage because of one foolish woman?”

Ms. Ash turned her eyes to Claire. “I can do whatever I please, young lady. And I have made up my mind. I am done with having my heart broken. Take all of it. Take all of the books back to your collection. I am leaving that part of my life behind.”

“Forgive my assistant’s poor manners,” Mr. Dillon said. Claire was hurt by the insult but relieved to have Mr. Dillon back in the conversation. “I understand your loss and the Colette-Ashbee Collection will be proud to absorb your collection. We can process your entire library before the end of the day.”

“Thank you,” Ms. Ash said. “If you will excuse me, I will go lie down.”

“Ah, one thing if you don’t mind, Ms. Ash,” Mr. Dillon said. “I hope you will forgive my selfishness, but I do have one small request to make of you first.”

Ms. Ash sat back down. Claire noticed Ms. Ash was sitting a bit taller in her seat.

“You may make your request,” Ms. Ash said. Claire recognized the tone of voice. It was very much like Mr. Dillon’s voice when he gave her commands.

“I have traveled the world,” Mr. Dillon began, “and I can honestly say I have never seen a better rope bondage expert than yourself. I respect that you are giving up your interest in bondage, but could I please call upon you to give me one last demonstration of your skills? You could bind my assistant, Ms. Currie, and show her how a real expert works.”

Ms. Ash lowered her eyelashes. “You were always a smooth talker. I remember when Ms. Wei gave you to me and the honeyed words you sang when I bound your cock. It was almost a shame to gag you before you pleasured me.”

Claire let out a gasp before she caught herself. Mr. Dillon bound? It was inconceivable.

“Is that a yes, Ms. Ash?” Mr. Dillon said.

“I am not sure,” Ms. Ash said.

“I would really appreciate it,” Claire added. She didn’t know what Mr. Dillon was thinking, but Claire was doing her best to help.

Ms. Ash stood up. “I am only doing this as a favor to you, Oliver. Ms. Currie, there should be some rope in the closet there. Bring it me, and don’t let any of it touch the floor.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Claire said. Her heels tapped loudly on the floor as she went to the closet. The closet was filled with interesting items. There were several floggers, quite a few dildos and a cruel-looking set of clover clamps. The rope was sitting on a shelf of honor, and Claire took it into her arms. It seemed awfully heavy.

As she walked back towards Ms. Ash, Claire began to have second thoughts. She had been tied up a few times in college by boyfriends, and Mr. Dillon would sometimes tie her down so she would stop moving while he spanked her, but she hardly knew Ms. Ash at all. All she really knew was that Ms. Ash was a heartbroken woman who had once tied and dominated Mr. Dillon. Once she’d tied Claire, who knows what sort of torments she might choose to inflict?

Ms. Ash took the rope from Claire’s hands. “Strip down to nothing,” she ordered. “Wait, leave the stockings on.”

Claire looked to Mr. Dillon for confirmation and was surprised by a sudden grip on her hair. It was Ms. Ash, and she was forcing Claire’s head back at a far more severe angle than Mr. Dillon ever had.

“Don’t look to your boss when I give you an order, slut,” Ms. Ash said.

“Yes, ma’am,” Claire said.

The grip was released, and Claire began to strip. Librarians don’t take off their clothes like normal people. Claire had been painfully trained by Mr. Dillon on that matter. Normal people take off their clothes; librarians disrobe. Claire took off her clothes as if she were in an erotic novella.

She started with the top button of her shirt. One by one, she slowly popped them open, making sure to pull her shirt apart after each button. Button by button, she revealed her dark brown cleavage. Button by button, she revealed the black lace bra that covered her breasts. Button by button, she revealed the smooth skin of her stomach. When the shirt was completely unbuttoned, Claire slipped it from her shoulders and let it fall down the length of her arms to the floor.

The skirt was shown the same care. She twisted so that she could reach the zipper, making sure her breasts were facing Ms. Ash. Claire pulled the zipper down slowly so that the bright color of the yellow panties would come as a surprise underneath the strict black skirt. She kept unzipping until the tops of her lace stockings came into view. When she was completely unzipped, she shook her hip to the left then to the right with a snap, so that the skirt would fall like a curtain down her legs.

Claire stepped out of the skirt and faced Ms. Ash in her underwear. She reached behind her and unclasped her bra. Pulling her arms together, the bra slid free of Claire’s massive breasts. She then reached down and hooked her thumbs into her yellow panties. Bending forward, she pulled her underwear down slowly so that Ms. Ash could admire every inch of her curving back and ass. Claire deftly stepped out of her panties, still in her heels. It was a move Mr. Dillon made her practice often.

Nude except for her stockings and her glasses, Claire finally shed her shoes. She pulled her feet out one at a time, taking the time to display each foot before allowing it to touch the ground.

Ms. Ash looked at her with a patient expression. Claire looked for some sort of interest or sign of approval in the older woman’s eyes. She stood silently until Ms. Ash made a gesture for Claire to approach.

Claire stepped forward, and Ms. Ash grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around. Strong hands pulled Claire’s arms up and positioned them out from her body. She squealed a little as she felt the first touch of the rope. It was against her sex, with one end of the rope going between her buttocks while the other end went straight up from her sex and between her breasts.

The rope wound itself around Claire’s torso, Ms. Ash snaking and pulling the rope more quickly than Claire could follow. With each tug, the rope pressed tighter against her sex. She could feel herself getting wetter as the rope ground into her bushy pubic hair.

The rope constricted around her waist and coiled upwards. The long length stretched between her breasts and separated them before branching out across both her shoulders. Down her back the rope went, criss-crossing as it would wrap around again to her front.

Ms. Ash pulled Claire’s arms back behind her back. The rope cocooned her wrists and pulled them together. Claire’s hands were pinned to the small of her back. To her surprise, she found that she could let her arms fall, and the rope would easily support the weight of her hands. It was far more relaxing than she had been expecting.

“There,” Ms. Ash said. “How does it feel?”

Claire realized that Ms. Ash had finally stopped and stepped away. She tried to flex her arms, and she shuddered. The rope had tightened around her sex as soon as she moved a muscle. She took a step, and she was aware of her breasts bouncing back and forth against the hard coil of rope separating them. She tried to shrug and maybe slip from the rope, but it stuck to her body like a second skin.

“I gave you a handle,” Ms. Ash said. She gripped the coil between Claire’s breasts, and Claire was surprised by how much space there was for Ms. Ash’s fingers to reach under and fully grab the coil. Ms. Ash gave the slightest pull, and Claire nearly fell forward. Her entire body was connected to that handle. Her heart pounded faster. She was helpless and she knew it.

“Interesting,” Mr. Dillon said. It took all of Claire’s willpower not to look toward him and plea silently for her release. “Is the rope between her legs as distracting to Ms. Currie as I think it is?”

Ms. Ash nodded. She shook the handle back and forth, and Claire groaned. The rope on her sex was almost vibrating from the tension being placed on it.

“Truly excellent work,” Mr. Dillon said.

“Thank you,” Ms. Ash said.

Mr. Dillon walked over to Claire and grabbed her by her new handle. He pulled on the rope and Claire followed. Mr. Dillon dragged her back to his seat where he sat down. Claire quickly dropped to her knees before him as Mr. Dillon had seen no reason to let go of her.

“Ms. Ash, would you mind if I decided to take advantage of your work right now?”

Claire wasn’t sure what Mr. Dillon was referring to, but Ms. Ash apparently was.

“No,” Ms. Ash answered. “But not a single drop on the floor, please.”

Claire was confused until Mr. Dillon unzipped his pants. To her astonishment, he pulled his cock out. It was already hard and ready for her.

“Remember that, Ms. Currie,” Mr. Dillon said. “Not a single drop can land on the floor.”

Claire swallowed. She looked back at Ms. Ash, who had returned to her chair opposite Mr. Dillon. The older woman didn’t look like she was going anywhere.

“Right here, Mr. Dillon?” Claire asked. They had never fucked in front of another person before. Oh, she had been spanked, humiliated and sometimes stripped in front of another person, but they had never had sex with another person present.

Mr. Dillon pulled her by the handle to his cock. “Now, Ms. Currie.”

Claire took him into her mouth. She was on her knees and had to bend forward to reach his cock. She was very aware of her ass which was facing Ms. Ash. Claire had an urge to put her legs together and try to cover herself, but it was pointless. She was completely exposed.

“You appear to have trained her well,” Ms. Ash said. “She sucks cock like a proper whore.”

Claire nearly choked on Mr. Dillon’s cock. Her head kept bobbing up and down as she tried to tune out Ms. Ash’s comments.

“I try my best, but in this situation, I think she’s inspired by your ropework,” Mr. Dillon said. “A tight harness puts anyone in her proper place. How were you able to bind her so snugly on your first try?”

“Practice,” Ms. Ash said. “Once you have tied up as many women as I have, their bodies start turning into variations on a theme. To you she a unique, special person, to me she is just another body with slightly too large breasts and a slightly too big bottom.”

Claire thought of several things to say about her allegedly too big bottom, but it was hard to say any of them when her mouth was filled with cock.

“That’s fascinating,” Mr. Dillon said casually. “Would you say the same about rope? I rarely use it myself.”

Claire thought he didn’t sound like a man having his cock vigorously sucked. She took it upon herself to see if she could change his tone. Her cheeks caved in as she sucked harder.

“Not at all,” Ms. Ash said. “Each rope is different. It has its own properties, such as thickness, pliability and stretchiness. Even if you get two ropes made of the same material, the craftsmanship in making the rope can be wildly different.”

Mr. Dillon chuckled. Claire thought it might have been a moan he was disguising. She decided to use more tongue.

“It reminds me of books,” he said. “Everyone assumes that all copies of a book are the same, but it’s not true. Some books disappoint you with their poor printing quality, but look hard enough, and you’ll find the good copy of a bad edition. You just have to be willing to search.”

Ms. Ash didn’t have an answer. For a few minutes, the only sound in the room was that of Claire’s mouth sucking Mr. Dillon. As Claire moved faster and faster, the sound of her breasts knocking together also filled the room.

Mr. Dillon spoke first. “Have you ever had a rope break, Ms. Ash?”

“On occasion,” Ms. Ash said. She sounded distracted. Claire wondered if it that was due to the collector’s recent heartbreak or the sight of Claire pleasuring Mr. Dillon.

“Every rope is different,” Ms. Ash said. “Some ropes have a flaw, while others are strong enough to last decades. The care you administer is important, but I have had rope that was brand-new come undone on the first day.”

“I see,” Mr. Dillon said. Claire thought his voice seemed a little higher pitched than usual. She decided to add a twist to her head when she descended down his shaft.

“And do you ever blame the person tying the rope for the rope breaking?” Mr. Dillon asked.

Ms. Ash actually laughed. “I see your metaphor, young man. You are saying that my submissive left me because of her poor quality, not because of any fault of mine. I appreciate the compliment, but it doesn’t change the fact that I am tired of going through so much bad rope.”

“That is unfortunate,” Mr. Dillon said. “Excuse me one moment, I need to climax.”

That was Claire’s only warning as her mouth suddenly filled with seed. She almost choked again, but she remembered Ms. Ash’s instructions. She swallowed it all, taking care not to let a single drop escape her lips.

When he was done, Mr. Dillon pushed her away. He tugged her handle upwards so that she would stand beside him. Claire stood there, trying to hold back her blush as Ms. Ash’s eyes scanned her from top to bottom.

After a few minutes, Ms. Ash finally spoke. “Perhaps you are right, Mr. Dillon.”

“In what way, Ms. Ash?” Mr. Dillon asked.

Ms. Ash was still staring at Claire. “Maybe I have been a bit lax with the quality of rope I have been choosing lately. I think I will hold onto my books a little while longer while I revise my standards.”

“The Colette-Ashbee Collection will be terribly disappointed,” Mr. Dillon said as he stood up.

Ms. Ash stood up as well. “I am sure you will help them get over their disappointment. Shall I untie your girl now?”

Mr. Dillon smiled. “Actually, could I trouble you for a long coat for her to wear while we wait for our cab?”

Ms. Ash smiled deviously.

A few minutes later, Claire stood in the driveway with Mr. Dillon. The coat flapped around her bare legs. Sometimes the wind would go straight up the coat and chill her rope-bound body. Her sex drenched the rope with her excitement.

“I have two questions, Mr. Dillon,” Claire asked.

“Yes, Ms. Currie?”

“Why did you try to cheer her up?” she asked. “Don’t get me wrong, it was a kind thing to do, but doesn’t that just deny the collection her books?”

“Ms. Ash has the greatest collection of bondage books in the world because she is a fan with a singular taste,” Mr. Dillon explained. “While we are obtaining vulgar books about actors, Ms. Ash is gathering bondage books. While we are authenticating memoirs from politicians, Ms. Ash is gathering bondage books. She is just as dedicated as we are but more effective at her hobby because she has a focus.

”And one day, Ms. Ash will pass away. She’ll die, and her books will be absorbed. Who knows, maybe you will be the head librarian when that happens. When that day comes, the books the Colette-Ashbee Collection gains will be even greater in number because I gave Ms. Ash the hope she needed to continue her hobby.”

Claire shivered as the wind pressed the coat against her bound body. “So you helped an old lady mend her broken heart for the sake of the collection?”

“Of course,” Mr. Dillon said. “What was your other question?”

“Oh, yes,” Claire said. “Why am I still tied up?”

Mr. Dillon smiled. “That will be revealed when we return to the hotel room.”

Claire shivered again, and it had nothing to do with the wind.

  3 Responses to “Fiction: The Library of Ms. Ash”

  1. That was a gorgeous story, and incredibly hot. Hooray for ropework :)

    xx Dee

  2. Once again you make me wish I had become a librarian… :)

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