Effie 01 The Awakening

I couldn't work out which category to post this in. (BDSM or Non-consent), because it doesn't really fit in either. After long and serious contemplation I flipped a coin, so here it is.

EFFIE (part 01) : THE AWAKENING

ONE

Effie sat on a high stool behind the counter in an empty and run-down library. She was slouched dejectedly over the counter's wooden surface with her head held in her hands. Sighing she looked over at the wall clock,

4.30

, she thought,

Thank god, only half an hour to go

. Effie had worked here all day on her own, and this day, being a wet Wednesday in October, meant eight hours of boredom only occasionally broken up by the arrival of a so-called customer. The problem with working here, in the poorer side of town, was the motley collection of social refugees that tended to shuffle in: drunk people; crazy people; stinking people; aggressive people, sometimes they managed to combine all four virtues at once. The most common, though, were the old women who complained as if training for a surreal Olympic event, and the toothless old men, who leered lasciviously at Effie, then spent too long furtively spying on her from behind the 'Fiction K - S' shelves. Ironically; a 'normal' customer entering the small library was far from a normal event.

Usually Effie worked with her boss, Mrs Fitch, a hatchet faced woman with an overbearing nature and a love of excessive make-up. Today though, Mrs Fitch had taken the day off , (

To re-sharpen her tongue

, thought Effie) which left her here in peace, but even a domineering cow helps to pass the time away.

Haven't even had a decent lecher in today,

she mused, and to be fair it wasn't just the old and decrepit that stared at her, most men did. She was a petit five foot two with large dark eyes which made her appear younger than her twenty three years. Her smooth skin was a Victorian white and her long, jet-black hair was highlighted with crimson streaks. She always wore white or pink boots, black stockings, black mid-thigh length skirts, and black tops that pulled tightly around her jutting breasts. Effie coyly enjoyed the effect she had on some men; those men that appealed to her; those that were ten or twenty years older than her; those that had a very particular look in their eyes. 'H' was such a man, but 'H' hadn't contacted her in two weeks. Effie wondered if he had been disappointed somehow by their last meeting and she was beginning to give up on any chance of further adventures. She checked the time again,

4.40. Come on, I wanna go home!

The old, double oak doors creaked loudly as they swung open,

Oh no!

she cried inwardly as a large woman wearing a thick, brown checked coat entered the library. The woman looked challengingly at Effie.

"Mills and Boon?" She asked tersely. Effie pointed to the romantic fiction section in the corner.

"Over there madam." She answered politely.

"Hm." The woman grunted grumpily and made her way across to the shelves.

Beep Beep…Beep Beep. Effie's mobile phone had received a message. She picked it up and saw the message was from 'H'. Her heart rate immediately rose, her stomach fluttered and her legs felt week.

At last, it's him.

She selected 'read' :

'close up. get hair brush. go out back. take phone. wait for my call. i mean wait'

Effie quickly looked up from her phone and glanced around irrationally, for fear that someone else may have seen the message. Her heart was now fully racing and her were hands shaking.

I've got to get rid of this old dear

, she thought,

I have to lock up the place

. She called out to the woman who tutting irritably as she peered at the available titles.

"I'm sorry madam, I have to close the library now."

"What? I have at least fifteen minutes before you close."

"I know madam, but," Effie searched for a suitably drastic reason, "Er, my Mum's ill and I have to go and see her."

"Don't lie to me little girl, I know your boss, Mrs Fitch and I'll tell her about this. You're just trying to get away early. I could get you sacked."

"Look," Said Effie firmly. "Just choose a book and go!"

They stared at each other for a few seconds.

This isn't working,

she thought,

I have to try something else.

"Please just go." Pleaded Effie. "Honestly, I do have to close up now." Her plaintive tone did the trick, the woman grabbed a dog-eared paperback and brought it to the counter. Effie scanned the woman's library card.

"I'm still telling Mrs Fitch about this. " She proclaimed as Effie returned the card.

"Good!" Said Effie, not really caring what the old witch did or didn't do. The customer left dramatically, leaving the doors swinging wildly in her wake. Effie rushed around, locked the doors, turned off all the lights and finally, shut down the till. She ran into the storeroom and frantically searched through her bag to find the hair brush,

"There!" She exclaimed as her hand grabbed hold of the brush. Effie held it up shakily and studied the long, tapered, plastic handle. She licked her dry lips and closed her eyes, trying to imagine what lay ahead; her pussy leaked the first drops of wetness into her panties.

Come on

, she scolded herself

, Stop fucking about and get a move on

. Making sure she had the brush and mobile phone with her, she left the storeroom through a fire exit door that lead to a motel car park at the back of the library. Twenty feet along the wall was another door, which opened into a cramped and damp outside toilet. This is where 'H' had meant by "out back". Effie burst into the small room, switched on the naked light bulb that hung from the ceiling and locked the door behind her .The WC had boxes of badly damaged books and cleaning equipment down each side of the walls and the whole room reeked of disinfectant mixed with a sort of musty, mouldy smell. She placed the phone and brush on a nearby box then sat down on the toilet, facing the grimy wooden door that lay just four feet away. She waited.

Effie felt hot with expectation and the urge to play with herself was very strong, she wanted to gently scratch herself through the pink cotton of her panties,

But 'H' told me to wait

, she thought. She settled on crossing her stockinged legs tightly together and whilst placing her palms on each wall for purchase, slowly gyrating her ass against the closed toilet lid.

"Mmmm." She groaned softly, as each circular movement caused the wet fabric of her panties to drag lightly across her sex. She thought about 'H'.

TWO

'H' had first entered the library about two months ago, wearing shades, faded blue jeans, a white 'T' shirt and a long 1970's black leather jacket. In his late thirties, he had dishevelled, shoulder length hair that that he pushed back from his face as he walked up to her. She couldn't remember what he wanted , or what they said to each other, but she did recall giggling too much and desperately wanting to see his eyes behind the shades. When, eventually, he did remove the sunglasses, his eyes were a cold, icy light blue, that only sparkled when he smiled.

He came back to see her a number of times over the next few weeks and they had brief conversations under the disapproving gaze of Mrs Fitch. They discovered a mutual interest in dark literature, erotic and gothic fiction in her case and Victorian or Edwardian ghost stories in his. They talked about the music and books they either loved or hated, plus the general details of their unsatisfactory partners; hers too immature, his too uninterested. Gradually, as the weeks passed, they became more frank with each other and, unsurprisingly, more flirtatious as well. Once, whilst discussing the methods used by early psychic investigators and the Victorian Medium's apparent fascination with ectoplasm, Effie said:

"I can understand the attraction of getting covered in a white sticky mess, it shows up so well on my clothes."

God, that makes me sound such a slut,

she thought to herself. She blushed bright red as she stood in front of him, self-consciously clasping her hands behind her back. 'H' didn't reply, he just slowly looked up and down her body, his eyes lingering on her thighs.

Fuck! He's imagining me covered in cum.

She thought, desire spreading through her.

Yes, that's right, picture it! Your spunk splashed over my black top, skirt and stockings. The shameful proof of how you used me as your sex toy.

They stared silently at each other for what seemed an age before the shrill voice of Mrs Fitch broke the spell:

"Effie! Customer!"

Effie smiled apologetically at him as she reluctantly returned to the counter. He left the library casually, also smiling.

The next day he arrived in the late afternoon and Effie told him she had a half hour break, maybe they could go for a quick drink?. He agreed and they walked to a nearby bar. Whilst they sat talking, and drinking dubious fruit juices, 'H' noticed a leather handle poking out of the top of her shopping bag.

"What's that?" He asked. Effie blushed.

I've got to stop blushing like a schoolgirl!

"Oh, erm, it's a riding crop." She giggled nervously. " I got it from a second-hand shop., it was only a Quid. I thought it was fun. Here, have a look." She took the crop from her bag and handed it to him. He put his right hand through the handle strap and grasped the other end with his left. He bent the crop over a couple of times before whipping it down hard across the heel of his shoe. She stared at him still blushing but now from sudden arousal as much as from embarrassment. He turned those cold blue eyes towards her.

"Do you do much riding?" He asked with a hint of sarcasm, his stare unwavering. She looked down, and smiled coyly.

"No… but maybe the two of us should try it out sometime?"

"Yes we should." He replied, flexing the crop once more, his face impassive. She lifted her head and this time met his gaze. An unspoken understanding passed between them.

His smile suddenly returned.

"We should swap phone numbers." He suggested. Effie agreed and they began to key in each other's numbers.

"Oh, I… I don't even know your name." She said awkwardly.

"Aitch, everyone calls me Aitch."

" What does 'H' stand for?"

" Nothing, it's just what I'm called." He said firmly and Effie blanched.

"Oh, ok then, 'H' it is." She decided to herself later on that, for her, 'H' would stand for 'Him'.

Over the next month they texted each other regularly and increasingly their messages became more explicit. Late into the lonely nights they would secretly confess their desires to each other. Effie describing her fantasies of submission, humiliation and pain, 'H' promising he was the one to ensure she got all the suffering she needed. She admitted to him that only his texts and a particular plastic hair brush gave her release from the dark cravings.

Then, sixteen days ago she got a text from 'H' while she was at work. It read:

'is there somewhere you can go to be alone?'

She replied as quickly as possible without Mrs Fitch seeing her:

'yes the loo out back'

Within 3 minutes her mobile vibrated once more. She read the text and felt a gentle ache grow between her legs:

'do not keep me waiting again. go there now and make urself cum. when u r cumming text me the words: i am a dirty slut who can not leave her stinking cunt alone.'

Effie immediately excused herself to her boss, ran to the outside toilet and locked the door. Lifting up her black denim skirt she squatted down in the cramped room, her legs spread wide and her small ass suspended inches from the unswept floor. Without delay she licked her fingers, pulled the crotch of her pink panties to one side and started to masturbate herself . She breathed hard with tension and excitement as she stroked urgently over her swelling clit. Her left hand fumbled clumsily with the phone as she tried to type out the message 'H' had asked for. Effie felt so liberated and so deliciously bad as the humiliating words slowly appeared on the screen.

Yes I am a slut

, she thought,

a cheap fucking whore

.

I'm playing with my slut cunt in this seedy little room just because he told me to!

She revelled in the sordidness of her actions. Instead of masturbating because she felt horny, she felt horny because she was masturbating; because he had told her to.

Is he waiting for my text with his big, hard cock in his hand?

she wondered, as pornographic images flooded her mind.

Is it twitching with anticipation? Is it leaking great streams of pre cum

?

Will he spray his seed into the air when he gets my obedient whoring message?

She finished the text and then added five more words: 'I need to be punished'. As if to reprimand herself on his behalf for this addition, she dragged her nails harshly over her sensitive clit.

"Ohhh."

The pain was so good, so deserving.

You'd enjoy scratching my pussy, wouldn't you?

She thought, once again imagining his large, erect phallus. Effie re-read the text,

Yes, it's so, so true, I can't stop fingering my dirty stinking cunt!

Groaning as her climax approached, she plunged two fingers deep in to her soaking hole, rubbing roughly over her enlarged clit with the flat of her palm.

Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!

She pressed the 'Send' button, then orgasmed, frantically and wetly, into her hand.. The release so great that her knees gave way, leaving her writhing and moaning on the cold damp floor.

THREE

Two days later he came in to the library and walked directly up to Effie, who was busy tidying the shelves. 'H' smiled.

"Hi." He said.

"Hi, how are you?" She replied, trying to keep the conversation innocent. 'H' didn't respond, in fact he now seemed to be ignoring her and was looking intently around. When Mrs Fitch became distracted by yet another insane customer, he grabbed her firmly by the arm and manhandled her through the heavily curtained entrance to the storeroom.

"Hey!" She whispered in protest.

He pushed her up onto a table. As she sat there, petrified of being discovered by her boss, 'H' wordlessly pushed back her short skirt , exposing the tops of her flailing legs, and roughly pulled her thin panties down to her knees.

"No, don't." She hissed and tried to pull her panties back up. 'H' slapped her. Effie froze in shock, her face stung and tears sprung immediately to her wide eyes, blurring her vision.

"You didn't follow my instructions, you added five more words." His mouth twisted into a sneer.

"I…" She began, trying to blink away the tears, but 'H' wasn't listening. He forcefully pushed the first two fingers of his right hand into her slit, making her gasp in surprise and pain. He looked at her coldly, then with his left hand, grabbed her by the hair and pulled her mouth to his. He kissed her with such aggression that it bruised her lips and she let out a little whimper of anguish into his hungry mouth. His tongue searched urgently for hers, and she tentatively responded with small, placating flicks of her own tongue. She submitted to his dominance like a nervous puppy yielding to a wolf. He began to fuck her viciously with his fingers, with each inward thrust he pressed harshly against her clit with his thumb, showing no concern for the pain it caused her.

God it hurts

, she thought,. The walls of her pussy clamped hard over the fingers that slammed into her.

He didn't ask me, he didn't even ask me

she cried to herself.

He's just forced himself on me.

Despite this, the heat was growing between her legs, all fear of being discovered or of being taken without her consent was replaced by a sudden yearning.

Oh yes, yes. He had to do it, it's what I deserve for being such a disobedient slut.

Her juices began to flow over his fast moving hand, she noticed the wetness smearing and splashing across the milk white skin of her inner thighs. She felt and smelled the slippery liquid as it poured freely from her cunt.

To ease his vigorous penetrations, she tried to open her pale legs further apart , but the panties around her knees held them firmly in place. Those delicate white panties, covered with little pictures of kittens, resolutely kept her straining legs from parting any wider. His hand pistoned back and forth, relentlessly guided by the thin gap between her thighs. She winced and panted as, with each merciless thrust, his fingernails grazed through the soft, dark flesh of her pussy lips

He broke off the kiss and stilled his soaking hand, then stared at her, his eyes bright diamonds of lust. Effie looked up at him pleadingly, clutching and pulling at the wide lapel of his leather jacket.

"Oh God," She whispered to him, " Please, please hurt me."

He smiled coldly and, this time, rammed three fingers inside her, it felt like a punch such was the force. In, out. In. out. Effie clung on to his lapel as she was lifted bodily up again and again by each massive shove. Tears fell from her eyes in response to the pleasure and the pain, she had to cum, she had no choice, the need was too great to contain. Mewing weakly, with her head buried in his chest, she bucked and squirmed against him, her orgasm washing through her trembling body in great waves of heat.

When her spasms and contractions eventually melted away, he held up his three fingers, covered, not only in her white cream, but also in the bright red spots of her own blood. She watched dumbly as he wiped his fingers upon her soaked upper thighs, smearing pink streaks across her pure white skin..

She timidly brought her gaze up from the humiliating mess on her legs and saw his jeans were pulled taut over a tightly constrained erection, a dark patch of pre-cum visible on the blue denim. Effie licked her lips, reached out and tenderly stroked the long bulge with her fingertips. She meekly caressed and stroked him, looking up, with her large saucer eyes; they seemed to say - You're so good to me.

"Whore." He said.

"Yes." She replied quietly.

Leaning forwards and downwards, she kissed and sucked at the damp spot of pre-cum on his jeans, just at the tip of the bulge. She felt his body tense as his cock grew despite it's strict containment.

"No!" He barked and dismissively pushed her away from his crotch. Shocked, she looked at his angry face.

"But I want to put you in here." Effie pouted in a regretful tone, illustrating the request by opening her small, lipstick smudged mouth and placing two fingers between her bruised lips.

"You'll have to wait till next time before I fuck your 'little-girl' mouth." He sneered cruelly.

Looking at her surprise he added: "And your 'little-girl' cunt."

With that he turned and walked back into the library proper. Mrs Fitch noticed him leaving the store room.

"Effie!" Mrs Fitch called out, " What's going on in there?"

Effie hurriedly pulled up her stretched panties, gingerly got down from the table, and straightened her skirt.

"Nothing Mrs Fitch, I just got some bad news that's all. It's ok, I'll be out in a minute."

If I can walk

, she thought and checked herself in the mirror, mascara had run darkly down her flushed cheeks.

At least I look like I've just had bad news. Shit , I feel so shaky.

She stumbled across the room and leant on the wall.

Jeez my legs are absolutely soaked and my pussy really fucking stings!

A smile crossed her lips.

God, that was good.

That was two weeks ago, to the day and since then Effie had heard nothing from 'H', let alone been fucked by him. He hadn't replied to any of her texts or even come into the library, but here she was now, sitting in a stinking little room waiting impatiently for his call.

It must be at least half an hour I've been waiting,

She thought,

what's going on?

Her panties were already sopping wet from both the sexual expectation and her repeated gyrations upon the toilet lid. She was beginning to feel cold.