My Librarian
Chapter 2

Copyright© 2009 by Tarkus911

Corrected September 13th, 2009

We did dress warmly before going down before going down those fateful stairs, and it was a good thing that we did. Because it was bitterly cold in the basement. I could feel my nipples hardening like little rubber erasers under my own sweater, and I wondered if Irene suspected that she was entering a trap. When I turned on all the lights Irene just looked up at the floor joists, reaching up to run her fingers over the blue expansion foam that covered its entire surface. "Radiant floor heating?" she asked.

"We used to watch a lot of home improvement shows on weekends. PBS stuff." I explained. "My parents had that done a long time ago. I think I was three at the time." I walked over to a vent, opening it. Warm air flowed into the room. "They did the heating, a professional drove out to do the spraying when I was eleven." I continued opening vents as I talked. I should have done this last week. If it got too cold down here the equipment would start failing. "It replaced the original fiberglass batting that kept shedding. You'll find a lot of foamed areas around here. "Two pound foam my parents taught me was the best option. I get Charles Tanner to check the systems every Spring, between the snow and the floods. Charlie is expensive, but he's really thorough." Finishing opening the last vent I walked over to the North wall, waiting for Irene.

Irene though was still wandering the basement. When I had shown it to her the first time in the Fall, it had been simply the important systems, with minimal lighting on to look around. Now she was seeing it for what it had been. A teenagers paradise. "Dusty."

"I haven't used any of it since my brothers died" I admitted. "I don't know that I ever will. Not like it was."

As I watched, Irene picked up an old Nintendo controller, gently wiping the dust off it. "When your brothers died" she asked softly.

"I was playing Doctor Mario when the second telegram came. I just turned everything off, lost all care about the games. Other than when mom tossed sheets over everything nothings been touched since that day."

Setting the dirty controller back where it had been Irene turned to look at me. "You really are fucked up" she said, but there was no anger in her words. Only pity. But it angered me. A lot. "Bad marriage, whole family wiped out one by one. Finding out the hard way you like girls, not guys. And being alone so long. How many years Mary."

"Too many" I admitted, trying to keep my voice friendly. But I wasn't feeling friendly at the moment. No one called me fucked up. Hurt? Yeah, I'm hurt. Withdrawn? Okay I'll go with that. But fucked up? No, that I wasn't. Not yet at least. I saw a really good shrink for two long years in order to get my head straight. "Which is why you" I continued. "Now either we do this, or we don't."

"Show me" she challenged.

So I did. A funny shaped stone six inches from the floor pushed in, allowing a hidden doorway to open with a heavy thunk. Not click, pop or buzz, it was a definite thunk. The door though opened almost soundlessly. Cleaning it with a brass brush then oiling the hinges had insured that. I'd spent almost two months cleaning up years of neglect in preparation for this. Now I knew it was either put up or shut up.

Stepping over the remaining wall and through the open doorway I triggered another switch. Twelve volt incandescent lamps set behind heavy, outdoor glass globes came to life. Florescent tubes would have been too delicate here. Dangerous too, as the roof was only six feet high. Foolishly Irene followed me through the near sixty foot tunnel to another door. This one looked like it came from a submarine. It hadn't, it was only wood and fiberglass. Still it opened the same way, and still had a pretty good rubber seal around its edge. The better to keep unwanted sounds from reaching young innocent ears I was certain.

Irene followed me in, finding herself in a thirty by forty foot room fully twelve feet high at the center. "This is where?" she asked as she looked around at something out of a porn movie.

"Under the carpentry building" I answered. "There is a secret way up to it from in here, but not back down. As far as I know, there is only one way into this room from outside, but at least two out." I quietly closed the false pressure hatch, spinning its wheel so that the wooden 'dogs' locked down. Then I closed a hidden switch. Electrically powered solenoids locked into place with very dull thumps. They now sealed that door until either I decided to open it, or the batteries failed. Irene though was too busy wandering around looking at things to notice. 'Here it comes' I decided. 'Now, or never.' I watched in silence from the shadows while my employee studied the room. What was going to be her training classroom soon. Oh very, very soon.

"I recognize some of this stuff" she admitted. "And some is from medieval days. Do you really expect me to let you use this stuff on me? That's never going to happen." She turned around to face me, or leave. It didn't matter. I'd practiced this move with Henry and Sheila for half a day. Sheila didn't much like getting knocked senseless three times, but she didn't have the right to complain. After all, I'd paid Henry two hundred dollars to use her as a practice victim. She was his property after all.

My hand ached. For a minute or two I simply stood holding my hand to my stomach. What in the hell was Irene's chin made of I wondered. Reinforced concrete? Not that it mattered, my new toy was laying unconscious on the cold stone floor, a bit of blood trickling from her split lip.

"This is it you idiot" I cursed at myself. "Either it works, or come Spring when her brother gets here she's gonna put you in jail. Now move it." Kneeling down I checked Irene's pulse. A touch reedy, but strong. Taking a couple of steps I picked up her glasses, taking them to a small inlaid rosewood box where I locked them up. Only then did I realize the task ahead of me. Moving an unconscious body was about the same as moving an equal weight of fresh bread dough shoved into a garbage sack. Irene was just beginning to wake up when I locked the first ankle cuff on her. By the time I finished the neck collar her eyes were open. Unfocused, but open.

"Whaa" she managed before I shoved a wiffle-ball gag in her mouth. I'd chosen it because it allowed her to breath through her mouth as well as her nose, and I intended to leave her alone in the cold dark for a while. She was still too weak to fight effectively, though she did try to escape. For her though it was too late. Even if I'd only managed to lock the collar on her, its twelve inch chain wouldn't have never allowed her to escape. It was rated at 2500 pounds, much more than sweet little Irene was capable of exerting. Even if she didn't break her neck first. She stared at me though, hate building in her eyes. So I decided to explain things to her, in no uncertain terms.

"Its called a wooden horse" I explained as she stretched her legs, lifting her pain racked body off the rounded wooden edge. "I think it used to be called a Sabian, or something like that. It has plugs covering places I'll add dildo's later." I patted the hand polished oak her trap was made of. "You can guess where they will go, how big they will be and what each one will do to that delicious body of yours." I listened for a few minutes as she tried to plead, or curse through the gag. Then I slapped her face, hard.

"Basically" I continued as though nothing had happened,. "It pretty much uses your own weight to crush your clit with your own pubic bone, or something like that. I'm not gonna claim to be fully educated on this stuff. I'm nicer than my dad though. That used to be a really sharp edge. There were really old stains on it. Grossed me out, so I refinished the whole top and rounded the edge. Still, I think that you get the idea."

Picking up a razor knife, the kind you use to open boxes with I approached the now very frightened Irene. "I don't want a slave Irene. I want a submissive companion. That was what I was trying to say, but I couldn't get the words out right." Reaching to her sweater I started slowly cutting it off her. Beginning with her right cuff and running the blade slowly up the sleeve I watched the machine knitted wool part easily. It was still cold in here. I hadn't bothered to open more that one of the six heating vents yet, and it was at the rooms far end. "I want a submissive companion that still has all the skills she started out with, but will know not only when to obey her Mistress, but not to tell her Mistress that she is fucked up. You really pissed me off with that one Irene. I was going to take it easy on you, work you into the idea. But you went and insulted me. That I don't take from anyone. Not even Mega-Corp."

I was at her neck now, so as I cut the collar I made sure to turn the blade. Its dull edge scraped up the back edge of her ear, causing her to twist away. "Now I will admit that I am a little messed up. Truth be told, everyone is. In my case its loss and loneliness. I could have helped you fall in love with me, but everyone I've ever loved has either died, or left me. So I'll admit it, I have a serious problem with love. Doctor Piplian says that with time I'll get better, but I'll never trust love again. That's my little screw up. All I ask is that you think about it a bit." I moved to her left side, beginning to repeat the process. She moaned in fear, her eyes now so wide that I could see the whites all around them. "I've been alone several years Irene. That drags on your soul. I've lost my entire family, and that does knock you off your foundation. But I'm a very intelligent girl my love. And I did see a very good doctor. Because I really thought I was going crazy. He let me meet really crazy people, to prove to me that yes I had problems. But no, I wasn't wearing aluminum foil over my head to keep the little green men out, and I have never had a desire to kill anyone. So no, I am not fucked up. I am though awfully lonely, and I am a dominate personality."

I finished with the second sleeve, gently pulling the half split sweater away from Irene's body. I really liked what I saw so far, but I remembered a lot more. "Now dear Irene, I am going to tell you something you need to know. That is this. I will not kill you. I won't scar you except by accident, so be careful what you do while any blade is close to your skin. I am not going to blind you, take away your hearing, cut out your tongue or otherwise maim you. Oh I'll hurt you, probably a lot. But I want you as pretty in thirty years as you are right now."

Two quick slashes cut away the rest of Irene's sweater, leaving her in that pretty blouse she had put on this morning. Then unlocking the collar I patted her right breast. "See you two in a couple of hours" I whispered as I licked my lips. Then carrying the ruined sweater and her shoes I walked towards the door. After all, it was now near lunch and I was getting hungry. "Bye now" I called back, turning out the lights just before I closed the door before securing it. As I walked down the tunnel I wondered how long she could remain standing, and how long she could stand the crushing weight on her pubic area. Henry had given me an estimation. One based upon Sheila's own training. We'd see.

Lunch was interesting, as Irene's brother called and wanted to talk to her. I told him that she was not feeling well and was asleep, but I'd get her for him if he'd wait a couple of minutes. I was betting that he wouldn't want to bother his sister, and I was right. "Just give her a message please. I got the job in Atlanta I told her about. We are moving next weekend so I'll be leaving in a couple of hours to find a house. But I'll send her an e-mail when we get settled in."

I wrote down the message, repeating it for him. Then I let slip a bit of information that would keep him from worrying when he couldn't get through on the land line. "We've been having trees fall on the lines every winter" I warned him. "So far it isn't a big deal, but there's another storm coming. They don't automatically fix it if its on a private road. So if you can't get through by phone send an e-mail. We don't have a good satellite signal during storms, but clear days are fine. After I clear the antenna that is."

"Okay. I'll remember that. How is my sister doing" he asked.

"A bad headache from the glue fumes. She was repairing some books this morning and the exhaust fan was blocked by snow. Nothing major, some aspirin and sleep will do her fine. She finished the library a couple of days ago and now is just doing research for me. Exactly what I need. She's so good at what she does, I just know I'll lose her when the economy gets better. Anyway. I went out and cleared the exhaust fan, my fault that I missed that yesterday. My responsibility. In fact she's got it easy I think. Nothing much to do any more while I pound a keyboard."

We both laughed, knowing a Librarian's work was never done. Then we talked a bit more, finally saying good-bye and I hung up. Walking over to my lunch I settled down again, glanced at the clock then slowly finished my meal. Irene had another forty minutes before I needed to worry about her. Washing the dishes ought to take up that much time.

Irene was sweating like a pig when I returned, even in the rooms cold. With her hands chained loosely above her and her feet to the horses base, standing was difficult enough. Still she was a lot stronger than she looked, and had managed to survive this long without damaging herself. Picking up my razor knife again I approached her. "My gosh Irene, your soaking with sweat. And its only fifty degrees in here. Tell you what, I'll take that wet clothing off you so you don't catch a cold" I said, acting as if I thought I was helping her. Pulling her blouse free of her skirt I started carefully cutting away the cloth.

 
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