The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

From a Book

A position at the library suited me well at first, but I never wanted to be here long enough that anyone thought of me as a “librarian”. To me, a librarian meant a dour old biddy whose dull life matched her musty filing cards and drab bookshelves. The only excitement or romance that a librarian would ever know would come from a book. It just seemed that every other position that a literate young lady would apply for was already swamped with applicants who were more “qualified” than me—I couldn’t even get started at the bottom of the corporate ladder when every manager had a pool of slim, bubbly blondes to choose from.

So, I went to work for the library and, as I passed through my 20s, my body only settled further into womanhood, my curves rounding under the increasingly conservative clothes that I wore. I started to think that my life had been misfiled on a dry, corner shelf where no one would ever be interested in finding it, and I realized that the high school students who passed my desk every day were right: I was a librarian. Sometimes, their casual dismissal of me, and their certainty that I was little more than a filing system behind a desk, caused me to be a little stricter with them than I would have preferred.

Today, I was tempted to be a little strict with one particular young man who sat at the back of my library as the clock approached closing time. He had asked me for help in finding some trashy occult books earlier in the afternoon, and then sat at a desk, reading and muttering, until everyone else had left for the evening. Despite the air-conditioning, I had felt increasingly hot as the hour grew later, and my body practically began to burn as he ignored my switching the lights on and off in the universal sign of imminent closure.

In a wild impulse to mock his inattentiveness, I strutted out from behind my desk and cupped my breasts with both hands, openly kneading the soft, hot flesh. Perhaps he saw me, but when he did not stir, I unbuttoned my jacket and blouse to display the deep cleavage normally hidden under my clothes, arching my back and gently shaking my shoulders to accentuate my mountainous breasts. Still, his head barely rose, so I reached down below my knees and gathered my skirt up around my waist, exposing my underwear and stockings to anyone who cared to look. It didn’t even concern me that it had been years since I had worn a bikini, and the thatch of hair that grew between my legs peeked from behind my underwear.

By this point, my temper was so aroused that I strode over to the young scoundrel and practically leapt onto the table that he was using, pushing his book onto the floor and revealing a design that he had drawn onto the table in pencil. For a moment, I wanted to upbraid him for the vandalism, but first I would make sure that I had his undivided attention. “You want to ignore the librarian, do you?” I growled. My legs on either side of his waist, I ran my fingers through his hair, and then pulled his face into my bosom. That got his attention. I felt feverish as his mouth kissed, sucked, and licked my breasts, and I frantically pulled at my clothes to find some relief. Before I knew it, I was topless, my skirt hiked up and my ass perched on the table, making uncontrollable moaning sounds as he devoured my generous tits.

It was apparent that the young man’s member was swelling in his pants, and, despite my fever, I still had the presence of mind to encourage him to get moving, so I pulled him up until he was standing between my spread legs and very nearly tore his pants open. He must have been a little feverish himself, because his penis felt red hot in my grasp. Firmly stroking it, I eagerly reached under to cup and tease his sweaty testicles with my other hand.

A pull like gravity brought his cock to my panties, and I realized that the soaked cloth would have to go. Our eyes finally met as he came to the same conclusion, and I reached between my legs to tear them off with one savage jerk. He saw that my sex was natural and hairy, and it brought a smile to his lips. “Yeah, you like my furry cunt, don’t you? Librarian’s a wild girl under her old clothes, and you like it ...” I rasped. Then, he thrust inside of me, and I screamed in helpless pleasure.

I leaned back on the table, breasts heaving and legs wrapped around his waist, while he eagerly worked in and out of me. At first, my fever only grew, but every time that my bum squeaked on the table, I felt it subside a little. Heedless, he continued to piston into me as my mind cleared and I started to question what was going on. I became aware of just how wet my inner thighs were, and how I had soaked the lap of this young man too. “Why am I having sex with a teenaged boy?” I asked myself, puzzled by the chain of events that had led to our coupling. It didn’t seem to add up, and that began to bother me in a completely different way. I could really get into trouble for getting into this position with a teenager, and I’d never even intended to do it.

“Listen, I’m sorry, but ... I don’t know what we’re ...” I began to say as my eyes met his for the second time. With a start, realization that I was coming out of my madness dawned on him, and he surreptitiously reached for his pencil, which somehow hadn’t been knocked to the floor yet. “What are you ...?” I muttered as he slowed his tempo, steadying his hand enough to draw on the table underneath me and fill in some smudged shape in his design.

Immediately, all of the heat that I’d felt earlier rushed back into me, and I moaned with need and want. He fumbled the pencil as his hands reached up to grope my pendulous tits. Now, I knew that I had his attention, and his eyes and hands enjoyed every inch of my voluptuous curves. “Oh yes! Take me! Fuck me! Fuck me!” I screamed, and I didn’t care who heard. I couldn’t.

My mind couldn’t even contain the torrent of passion that flooded through it, and I became little more than a mindless animal, grinding my sex onto the young man’s hot shaft. Finally, I came, my entire body tensing, my arms and legs clinging to my young lover. He didn’t stop though, and his continuing thrusts only heightened my orgasm, only blanked my mind further. I had a fleeting thought that I may be deafening him with my scream, but he didn’t seem to mind. When he finally came, spurting his seed into my wet, quivering depths, I was in far greater ecstasy than I had ever experienced before, greater than I could have even imagined possible.

He collapsed back into his seat, leaving me spent on the table, his seed dribbling out of my pussy. I dipped my fingers into my sex and then brought them to my lips to taste him while I recovered. My eyes rolled skyward, and I thanked God for the pleasure and peace that I was feeling. I may have passed out for a minute or two. When I became aware again, I could feel my hot young stud scribbling with his pencil on the table between my legs, changing the design under my bum again.

“Wait a minute!” I exclaimed as I sat up, suddenly alert. My gaze darted around the library, and I remembered that I was alone. The shelves towered over me, as cold and imposing as ever. The whole encounter—the torrid, forbidden sex—was just a simple fantasy that my mind had cooked up to satisfy my neglected body. “But what a fantasy!” I laughed, sliding down from the table and smudging some pencil doodles that a student had left there. I gathered most of my discarded clothing together and redressed, but I couldn’t find my panties. That worried me until I thought about what it would be like if some young man found them and kept them for his private enjoyment, and my face became flushed. A salacious little smirk bloomed on my face, and I realized that this fantasy about initiating inexperienced boys into the world of sex was proving to be a powerful one for me.

All of the occult books that had littered the table before that one boy had left were gone, and only one or two others remained unshelved about the library, so I was able to tidy up quickly. Turning the lights off for the night and locking the doors, I realized that perhaps there was still some passion in me, and I thought about how much fun it would be to come to work tomorrow. I would enjoy seeing the young men parade past my desk again ...

... So full of possibilities ...