The Library Crawl

I must be crazy, Patti thought to herself.

She didn’t look crazy—in fact, she looked the opposite of crazy, if there was such a thing, although it was true she didn’t look the way she normally did. At the moment, to the casual observer Patti might easily be mistaken for a librarian: her dark hair was pulled up into a bun on top of her head and she had on glasses and no make-up, and she was dressed in a long, conservatively-cut leather jacket that came almost to her knees. The black high heels might have seemed a little out of character but not radically so.

Yes, Patti looked very much like a librarian. Which would seem to make sense, as she was standing in the middle of the town library. Nothing crazy about that.

Except that Patti wasn’t a librarian. She didn’t even like to read all that much. And the glasses belonged to her sister. And Patti felt almost naked without her usual, carefully applied make-up. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been in this library. She was only here this morning because…

That’s what was crazy.

Patti had come here, looking the way she did, because she had been ordered to do so by a complete stranger. A stranger she had never even seen.

She had read several of His stories on a website for literary erotica and found that they resonated with her fantasies of sexual submission. She had contacted Him through the site and they had role-played as Master and submissive a number of times via email.

Ooooo, the things He had made her do! Like going to work with a rope knotted between her legs. Masturbating through her panties while crouched down in the aisle of a supermarket, pretending to read a package label. (She had come so hard that she had fallen over backwards. Whew!) Running errands with a dribble of milk–which looked more than a little like semen–drying on the side of her face.

And now this.

As instructed, she walked around the library for a while, idly pulling books off shelves, glancing at them and putting them back as she looked around. She had arrived early in the morning hoping the library would be deserted and it was, for the most part. There was a real librarian sitting at a desk near the door, a couple of middle-aged women looking through the video section and a scholarly-looking man seated at one of the computer desks, apparently doing research of some kind.

Slowly Patti made her way toward the back of the library. The shelving ran horizontally across the floor of the building, and once she had turned and gone down one of the aisles she was no longer visible to anyone at the front.

Perfect.

She allowed herself one peek around the corner to make sure no one was headed her way, looking over the top of her glasses as she could hardly see anything through them. She took a long breath to steady herself. I really must be crazy, she thought, one last time. I could just tell Him I did what He told me—He’d never know. Then, as instructed, she quickly unfastened her jacket and let it drop to the floor.

Underneath she was wearing only her black high heels, stockings and her most frilly and feminine white bra and panties.

And around her neck: a leather collar with a leash trailing down her back–both in lavender.

She shivered for a moment, covered in goosebumps, as she looked down at herself. Crazy, she thought.