Tracy was mad, to the point of going crazy.
She had to cancel her hair appointment today, and now had to close the library all by herself. Not only that, but there were a mountain of returns to reshelve.
Tracy couldn’t believe it. Martin had never flaked out of her before. It just wasn’t like him. He had always shown up on time, quietly did his job, and even stayed late to help with whatever project needed him for.
And lately, she had been coming up with a lot of projects to keep him late, just to delay having to go home to her lonely, empty apartment.
Thank god, she was allergic to cats, otherwise crazy cat lady would have definitely been in her future.
Part of why she felt so upset, was that she had finally worked up the courage to dye her hair back to its original color.
She had had pink hair since her college days.
The kids that came in for story time loved her pink hair, and called her the “Pink Lady.”
Tracy wondered what the kids would think about her tattoos. They’d probably love them. The parents not so much, which is why she usually kept them hidden.
But, she had woken up on her thirtieth birthday, and had a moment of clarity: she looked like a clown.
And if she was every going to find a boyfriend, then she had better do something about that.
Tracy had spent her thirtieth birthday completely alone, and realized that she had never kissed by anyone—not even her own father.
That’s what happens when you grow up in a very strictly religious household—you become afraid of men.
And getting a gender studies degree from a very liberal college, had exactly made her all that desirable either. Which was strange, since the whole point of going to college— against her parents’ wishes mind you— had been to escape her religious upbringing, and sow her wild oats.
It seemed like a good idea at the time. But looking back at her sexless college years now, Tracy realized three things:
First, she was highly susceptible to peer pressure, and foolishly went along with what all the girls had been doing. Hence, the pink hair and tattoos.
Two, everything she had been taught in college was completely useless in the real world, and could be summed up as: “Men are evil, and they only want one thing.” Which, remarkably was pretty much the same thing she had heard growing up in church.
Three, her professors were miserable old hags. Hags, who had decided to doll out their misery to their impressible students, and disguised their bitchy attitude as empowerment.
She cringed now, remembering, how she had confessed to one of her professors (this one had purple hair) that she wanted to work at the public library.
The professor took this as a cause celeb, and organized daily protests outside the library.
Finally, the old librarian, Mr. Hickman, threw up his hands and said, “If she wants to work at the library, fine. All she had to do was ask.”
The professor took it as a major victory, raving about how she had defeated the patriarchy, and then had completely disappeared.
Leaving Tracy alone to pick up the pieces.
She almost hadn’t gone in that first day, as she felt so ashamed and embarrassed about what happened.
Mr. Hickman hadn’t held it against her though. He was, understandably, a little gruff at first, but always treated her fairly, until the day he retired.
By all accounts, she should have a man in her life, and a high status man at that.
After all, as Director of the Public Library, she had a prominent position in the community. Her college professors would repeatedly tell her that what men really found attractive was her choice of career, and that she should never date down. Guys who were plumbers or electricians were of a lower class, and not worth her time. But, the older she got, the more Tracy started to understand that her college professors were, at best, lying to themselves, and, at worst, were completely full of shit.
She had never been touched by a man, and because of her religious upbringing the thought of touching herself made her feel incredibly ashamed.
And, it was driving her crazy.
She needed a man now, more than ever, because her biological clock wasn’t just ticking, it was sounding the alarm.
Tracy remembered that when Sheriff Joe had stopped by— to see if there were any part time jobs available at the library— she had practically fallen all over herself trying to get his attention. She had barely listened while he talked about troubled kid, he knew, who needed something to keep him out of trouble. Instead, she spend the entire time she had flirted with him to the point of embarrassment. She probably would have agreed to anything he had said, but story of her life, Sheriff Joe hadn’t even noticed her.
But the upside, was she had gotten Martin out of the deal, and he had been a godsend.
So much better than the typical college students that she usually hired— who rarely, if ever showed up, and when they did had a bad attitude towards the patrons.
Martin, on the other hand, was a quiet, but dedicated worker.
Emphasis on the quiet part, though.
He was so shy, and she wondered if he had ever even talked to a girl before.
But, she had also caught him staring a few times, and that made her feel good. At least he seemed to like women, even if he couldn’t talk to them. It didn’t hurt that he was also tall, and kind of cute…well for a teenage boy, anyway.
Thankfully, she always had a good figure. Susceptible to peer pressure as she was, she had been able to resist the constant accusations of internalized misogyny. Most of her college professors were fat and disgusting, and seemed to rarely bathe. She was at least savvy enough to understand that if she wanted a man, then she had to at least look good—even if she was something of a Plain-Jane under the pink hair.
Tracy realized now, that Martin was probably still sick, and more than like had forgotten to call in. His aunt had mentioned that he had had the flu recently.
Tonight, was supposed to be the night that she took their relationship to a whole new level.
She had it all planned out.
First, get her hair dyed back to its original color (a mousy brown). Second, come to work, and ask Martin to stay late to help her close. Third, as soon as they locked up, take him to the back, and then ride his cock like a pogo stick.
If there had been one good thing about college, it had been that she had been exposed to porn for the first time.
Up until her college days, her idea of sex had been pretty vanilla. Basically lay on bed, naked and motionless, while the guy got on top, and did his thing. Most importantly remember good girls do it with the lights off.
But, when she had watched a porno movie for one of her classes, it had opened her eyes.
And more and more her fantasies ran toward her and Martin doing some very pornographic things together.
She knew it was wrong. She was his boss. He was over ten years her junior. But, she was tired of being so innocent.
Besides, it would do them both some good. They were both shy and awkward people, and this sinful act would bring them closer together. And maybe, just maybe, it would even make them more comfortable around the opposite sex. That was how she justified it anyway.
But, a more primitive part of her knew the truth.
She just wanted to get fucked, and really didn’t are who’s dick happened to be in-between her legs while it happened.
She felt frustrated that it wasn’t going to happen tonight. But she would call, and see when he would be back, and they would do it then.
And, if Martin wanted to bend her over the circulation desk, and have his way with her, well she wasn’t going to object.
Tracy finished locking the doors, and then turned to face the common area.
Someone was still there!
“Library’s closed!” Tracy said, but she wasn’t used to shouting, and her voice didn’t carry very far.
Now she felt angry at Martin, and yet wished he was here.
She cautiously approached.
The man hadn’t moved from his chair.
“Martin?” She called out.
It was him, she saw now, only he looked different. His cheeks looked sunken in, making his face seem longer.
“Martin, what are…” she began, but quickly fell silent.
He was completely naked.
Her eyes drifted down, and then did a double take.
His had an enormous penis.
The veins that ran along the shaft, looked thick and puffy. His entire penis throbbed hypnotically in want of attention.
He looked right at her. Looked her right in the eye. And, all the while, a smug little smile resting on his lips.
“Why don’t you take off your pants, and join me,” he said.
He sounded so confident, confident to the point of arrogance.
If she wasn’t already turn on, she would have been now.
But, this was crazy. She should be screaming at him to get the fuck out of here.
This is sexual harassment. You need to report him.
That’s what the feminist part of her said.
This is a sin, the religious part of her told her now, and this part sounded like her father. If you do this, you will be going straight to hell, young lady.
Both parts, working in tandem, to keep her away from the pleasures of the flesh.
Her mind might be listening, but her body wasn’t, and now she quickly kicked off her shoes.
“Lust is the best sin of all,” Martin said, his voice cocky, “because it feels so good.”
She sighed heavily, at that, but modesty turned away from him. Her fingers shook, as she pulled at the buttons on her pants. Once free, she bent forward, pulling the pants and underwear down—showing him what she had to offer.
“Come here,” he said. It wasn’t a request, but a command, and one she eagerly obeyed.
Tracy turned around, and approached him.
She was dripping wet between her legs.
But, she stopped inches from him, and bit her lip. A chill ran up her spine. Something wasn’t right. Although, she wasn’t sure what it is was, just a feeling...
“It will only hurt for a little bit,” he promised. “And after that, you’ll won’t be able to get enough.”
The cockiness had come back, and she licked her lips in response. Although, she still felt very cold.
Maybe this is how I’m supposed she feel, she thought.
He held out his hand, and she took it.
She stopped thinking then— except on a very crude and base level— as she sat down in his lap.
She had turned her back on him, which was good. Tracy found it hard to look at him in the eye. It felt wrong, somehow.
Tracy gasped, as he shoved his thing inside of her.
It hurt, and the pain only increased, as her pussy and hips pulled him in deeper.
But, her movements became snakelike now, as her body slithered up and down trying to release the pressure building up inside of her. Hating him because it hurt, and yet not wanting to let him go.
Her body tensed, and her hips bucked on top of him, as her pink hair wildly tossed in the air.
Then, with a cry, she popped. Her cum ran down her legs, drenching his crotch.
The sudden release, immediately made her weak, and she slump forward.
She shivered at his touch, as he pulled her back.
“Did you like that?” He asked.
Tracy vigorously nodded her head in response.
He had left her panting like a dog.
He—on the other hand—hadn’t even worked up a sweat, and his breath remained steady.
“Do you want to do it again?” He asked.
But, he already knew the answer.
“Turn around,” he said, “It will be more intimate if I can see you.”
She quickly spun around, all the while making sure to keep him inside of her.
Soon she rode his cock like a pogo stick—just like she wanted.
It had hurt before, now this was pure bliss.
Who cared if men only wanted one thing? If this was the thing they wanted, then they could have it.
She quickly worked herself up to a climax, and any second, she was going to burst.
Suddenly, he reached out, and tore the front of her shirt open.
Her movements came to a grinding halt.
A mixture of emotions welled up inside of her now: shock, embarrassment, and annoyance.
Shock, at what he had done.
Embarrassment, that her tattoos were no longer hidden.
Annoyance, that he had torn her favorite shirt—the one with the cartoon bird on it, which her sister had given her.
But, despite these feelings, her lust trumped them all. Not only that, but he still felt so hard inside of her. And, more than anything, she wanted him to fill her full of his seed.
“You like the bad boys, I see,” he said, pointing a long finger at the devil tattoo just below her left breast.
Would he reject her now? Now, that he’d seen what she had done to her body?
Seeing her discomfort, he laughed, a cruel laugh.
“I can be bad if you want,” he offered.
The chill returned with a vengeance, causing her sweaty body to shake.
Something feel wrong, a tension in the air that hadn’t been there before.
Tracy umphed, like she had just been punched in the gut.
His thing, she could feel it growing and expanding inside her.
She came hard, but it offered little relief.
God, it hurt.
It hurt so much.
Tracy panicked and desperately tried to pull herself free.
But he was too big, and the head felt like a knot— a knot that had twisted her insides all up.
A scream caught in her throat.
“Such a pretty body,” he said. But his voice sounded different now: low, and guttural.
“Shame that you would try to cover it up,” he continued. “But, I can fix it.”
He snapped his fingers, and now she screamed.
Her entire body itched all over, and smoke rose from her skin.
He laughed, but his laughter sounded strangely high-pitched.
Through the smoke, she saw that he had changed as well. His eyes had become a dull yellow, and course hair grew all over his body.
Then she saw the horns!
The devilish thing put a finger to its black lips.
“Shhh,” it said, and a scream died in her throat.
The smoke began to clear, but that only made the hellish sight worse, for now his dull, pupil-less eyes held her gaze.
He bucked his hips up, and as he did do, his pointed tongue darted out of his mouth in an obscene gesture.
The sharp tongue flicked across her nipples, cutting the flesh.
His thing burned inside of her, and she silently whimpered, as she felt her juices boiling.
She could hear him growling, as his thrusts became more intense.
It hurt so much, a pain so great that it drove her mad, and yet she couldn’t get enough.
He titled his head up, and roared—a ball of fire escaping from his black lips.
But, his cum felt cold and soothing, which made her to breathe a sigh of relief.
The knot inside of her loosened, and she slipped off him, falling to her knees .
“There, isn’t that better,” he said. His voice sounding both high pitched and guttural.
Tracy looked down at herself.
Her tattoos were gone, and now a strand of hair fell across her face—hair a mousy brown, instead of bright pink.
He hadn’t really hurt her, she realized, in fact he had made her made her better.
He lightly patted her head.
“More,” he said.
Her thoughts again turned sinful.
She wanted to please him, please him with her mouth, and then let him take her from behind.
Flaccid, his penis was cool to the touch, and for that she was grateful.
She kissed the bulbous head in a tender gesture.
This was her god, both kind and cruel, the way a god should be.
And whatever pain he inflicted upon her was worth it— for he also gave her such blissful pleasure.
She pulled him in, gagging a little, as the tip tickled her throat.
Even flaccid, he felt heavy in her mouth, and her lips stretched thin to accommodate him.
He groaned, and her heart soared— happy that she had made him feel so good.
He tasted sweet.
A sweetness, so addictive, that it made her drool out of the corners of her mouth.
She suckled him like a Popsicle, her tongue tracing the circumference of his large shaft.
Then, she coughed, choking on him, as he got hard.
But with the hardness, came the burning, and that burning scalded her tongue.
She continued on, only stopping when he gently pulled her head back.
His hard cock slipped free of her dry, cracked lips.
There was a slight wheeze to her breath, as she looked up at him. She wanted more, even though she could feel the burning heat from the shaft that lay just inches from her face.
“You know what I want,” he said in his high pitched, but guttural voice.
She wanted it too, and now got on all fours.
It sizzled as he put his cock inside of her, and the nauseating smell of burning flesh overwhelmed her, making her feel sick.
He bucked wildly. His long, strong finger gripping the curve of her hips, drawing blood.
He felt deep, so deep, and her whole body trembled as her insides boiled.
She was nearly driven mad by the cauterizing pain, and yet her body couldn’t get enough.
His cum cold and soothing as it filled her womb.
He continued to cum, as he pulled out of her, his seed splashing against her pussy lips. Lips that eager drank in what they could, and yet only spoke of regret at the loss of him.
He told her to open her mouth.
He finished in her mouth, letting the rest of his load poured down her throat.
He again pulled free, satisfied for the moment.
Tracy gasped, free from whatever spell that had held her captive.
Dear God! She thought. What have I done!
She suddenly felt unclean and tainted. For she carried the devil’s seed inside of her!
Tracy scrambled to her feet, quickly backing away from him.
“Don’t go,” he said.
No, it was a command, and her feet refused to move any further.
She made it half way to the big windows that faced the lawn outside.
He approached from behind. And now, she could hear the heavy footfalls of cloven hoofs stomping down on the carpet.
Long, course fingers squeezed her breasts, as his fork tongue raked down the nape of her neck, drawing blood.
She sighed heavy, in both want and desire.
But the sudden chill that ran up her spine, gave her pause.
No, not a chill, a warning.
Her mind cleared.
I have to get away, she thought. Get away, before he makes me do something else.
Her body shook, keeping her sober, as he groped her breasts
It felt good, and voice at the back of her mind told her to submit to him.
She found herself slipping, succumbing again to his lust, as his hard thing grew hot between her legs.
No, she told herself.
Drawing upon on whatever will she had left, she pushed him.
He stumbled back, his cloven hoofs struggling to maintain their footing.
Fear guided her feet, as she ran forward.
Have to get away, she thought.
Thought spurred action, and she jumped.
She bathed in a shower of glass, as the window shattered around her.
It hurt, it hurt a lot. She had been badly cut across her chest, which left her momentarily dazed.
Tracy heard what sounded like baying laughter behind her, and that spurred her to her feet.
There was a convent not far from here. The nuns would take her in. They’d save her. Save her and her soul.
It was the last rational thought she had, as she ran.
Devilish laughter, dogging each foot step.
TO BE CONTINUED