A Victorian Tale

A Victorian Tale!

Part Ten - Librarians!

James complied and moved over her so that he could kiss her breasts. Then he lifted himself until his manhood was nudging at Jennifer's sex. She opened her legs and he reached down and rubbed her crack until moisture was well distributed. Then he nuzzled for entry and she moved her hips until they were aligned.

His manhood entered with a gentle push and they were conjoined. And it was nice.

Sir Rupert had said that she would never be satisfied again with anything less than being sacrificed on the altar. Jennifer was delighted to discover that he was wrong. The gentle lovemaking she had with James proved that. It was as satisfying as any wild, energetic coupling. And she was also pleased to find that she had not become a slave to the darksome phalluses of men from Africa. She had feared that she would feel compelled to wander the streets of London collecting coins for 'essential missionary work' in their distant country.

Afterwards she pulled James close and whispered, "Am I a harlot? Am I heading straight to Hell?"

"I don't believe so, Miss," he replied. "You just have a nice sleep now, and I'll wake you when it's lunchtime."

Jennifer snuggled under the sheets and fell asleep.

--o--

The next thing she knew the gong had sounded for lunch, she woke to hear the last long vibrations of its note. She got dressed and looked at the presents from Lord Falterham. They were beautiful dresses, shawls, gloves and a little bag for her personal items. Worth a small fortune but they would have been useless to her if the ritual had left her a mindless slattern, as Sir Rupert suggested might happen.

The Professor smiled up at her as she joined him at the dining table. Over a light lunch she told him of her adventures the previous day.

"Goodness!" he exclaimed. "I knew Falterham had a reputation for Hellfire Club tomfoolery, but what you describe seems much more disturbing. And you say this stone arrangement is under his estate?"

"Concealed in a pit under the Manor house," explained Jennifer.

"Possibly the original ground level," said the Professor. "There are many ancient features that now lie under many yards of later layers of earth. I have myself had to dig deep on some sites to reach the paleolithic finds."

They ate in pleasant silence for a while. The Jennifer told him of the vision she had while sucking Tak's testicles. She had intended to keep that part of the evening secret but, she thought, the Professor might be able to confirm something of what she saw.

"Your vision is also very interesting," the Professor smiled at her. "You are not going mad. The landscape you describe is what I and my contemporaries believe is what man would have faced ten thousand years ago. The ogres are something my rivals would insist are myth, but perhaps they also are real. You seem to have met one."

Jennifer was pleased. Her ideas were being taken seriously and not dismissed as the emotional and hysterical musings of a mere woman. She was liking the Professor more and more.

"My plan this afternoon was to visit the Reading Rooms associated with the museum," said the Professor. "They are in a building across the road. I have a license to visit and, with your help, we might be able to discover more about your ring. Would you like that?"

"That would be most pleasant, sir," Jennifer replied.

An hour later and they were in possession of a private reading room and surrounded by books. A young clerk, Milton, had helped the Professor to collect the volumes he required, readers not being allowed to wander the stacks on their own, and the tomes now lay scattered on the tables and lecturns. Reports by antiquarians and collected tales from those fascinated by folk studies, were mixed with maps and reports of excavations. Jennifer had found several drawings of rings similar to hers but they were simply labelled 'ring from female grave A7' or something similar. One drawing showed the find as having been discovered near the head of the skeleton, another by her hips, and a third showed the ring actually on a finger.

The folk tales produced intriguing glimpses of rings as objects of power. There were quite a few dwarven rings, some elven, and others worn by - as the tale put it - mortal men doomed to die. But none suggested that they might give a woman anything more than the status of marriage. Which the story writers seemed to think was perfectly acceptable. A single ring, worn by a woman as wife, being more powerful than all the others put together. Jennifer was more and more thinking of marriage as a strange land, where dark shadows lay. If she was forced to marry the Vicar now, and wear his ring, she would - she thought - throw it into the nearest fire and attempt to avoid her doom.

As the afternoon wore on the clerk brought refreshments and Jennifer turned her attention away from musing about rings to stories of fey creatures. Most of these were children's tales and although there were hints that these creatures still existed, every story seemed to start with 'a long time ago, in a village far far away'. It was as if the authors were anxious to distance themselves from the possibility that fey might exist in the here and now.

Then a small pamphlet fell under her hand. It had been tucked inside a greater volume and Jennifer was immediately struck by the tone of the author. He claimed that fey still existed, that they were dangerous, and that he had been obliged to 'write and self publish this book' because he could not get other antiquarians to accept his thesis.

It was common for authors to pay for their work to be published but to call it a book was giving it airs and graces the pamphlet did not deserve, she thought. Nonetheless she showed it to the Professor and they worked their way through it. The author's thesis was that several races of beings, fey, had lived alongside humans for millennia. At first in peace, and later in conflict. Not of the feys' making but the result of human desire to hold power over the landscape and each other. This eventually led to fey developing tricks to hide from humans. In the end only those humans the author described as having 'the sight' could see their true form.

And, in the middle of this confusing and contradictory text, was a single line.

'Rings of stone were made to empower the priestesses and reveal Fey trickery.'

The pamphlet was only thirty pages long, and five of those were taken up with a rant at the inability of antiquarians and politicians to spot the clues to the fey. Clues the author had cleverly seen. But despite it being short - to the Professor's delight - the author had included a bibliography at the end. Three books that he claimed were by authors with similar insights to his own.

Jennifer rang the tiny bell to call the clerk and he was dispatched with a scrap of paper on which the Professor had noted the names of these earlier volumes. In the tens of thousands of books in the Reading Rooms did these exist?

"Rings of stone might refer to the great stone circles," said the Professor. "There has been much speculation as to their purpose and no single theory holds sway."

"Yes, but it might be a reference to my ring," replied Jennifer. "It tells me if I am looking at a fey, and what kind of fey it is."

"Agreed," smiled the Professor. "You have demonstrated its power. And though a stone circle might prevent fey from entering unseen, to perform some mischief, your ring is far more practical and useful."

"The author could not decide if fey were evil or good," said Jennifer. "He writes in a most confusing way."

"If he debated in a similar contradictory way I fear people would have dismissed him as a crank," said the Professor. "Hence the anger that infuses the first few pages."

"Do you think he had the ability to see fey?"

"I think not," replied the Professor. "Where he mentions 'the sight' it is always as an ability someone else displays."

Milton, the clerk, returned at that moment. He had a strange expression on his face.

"Sir," he said, very quietly. "These two volumes are not in the collection but this third... the one entitled Liber Fey... is. But there is a problem."

"Is it out?" asked Jennifer.

"We are a reference library," explained the clerk turning to face Jennifer. "No volumes are allowed to be removed. No, the book concerned is in the Forbidden Vault."

You could hear the capital letters in his voice.

"Ah, I see," said the Professor.

"You may, of course, apply to view it by the usual means. A letter to the Library Committee that they will consider at their monthly meeting."

"The Forbidden Vault?" Jennifer was intrigued. The idea that a book might be considered forbidden was new to her.

"Some books advocate unusual practices or contain ideas, illustrations or descriptions considered unacceptable to polite society," said the Professor.

"Oh, I see," said Jennifer.

Milton looked apologetic. Presumably, thought Jennifer, he was not authorised to fetch a book from the Forbidden Vault without an approval document from the Committee. And how long might that take? Time for a bit of naughtiness, she thought.

Stripping off her fine gloves she waved at the refreshments.

"Do you think we could have some more?" she enquired.

"Oh yes," replied Milton. This was, at least, a service he could perform for the important Professor and his ward.

As he reached down to pick up the tray, and she lifted it up, Jennifer contrived to touch his fingers. She looked deep into his eyes.

"It would be very nice if we could see the book, briefly," she said to the clerk. "Just so we know it's the one the Professor needs to examine."

Milton looked back at her as they both clutched the tray. His eyes dilated and his breathing was ragged.

"It would be a dreadful waste of time to have to do all the rigmarole of a letter to the Committee, only to find it's the wrong book," Jennifer added, hoping he would want to please her.

Milton was going red in the face, then he jerked the tray from her and staggered from the room.

"That was naughty," whispered the Professor.

"I'm sorry," replied Jennifer. "I'm feeling so impatient about this quest, as if it's very important to solve. The idea of waiting a month for the book, and then possibly being refused. Well, I couldn't stand it."

"I'm not sure your... power... worked on Milton," smiled the Professor. "Though we might get a second tray of refreshments out of it. Let's keep looking in the books we've got. I have made a note of the volumes that the pamphlet author suggested, perhaps we will find them in a different library, or a second hand book shop."

Fifteen minutes later, when Milton returned, they were deep in reading. The clerk put the tray down and cleared his throat.

"Your refreshments," he said. There was a tension in his voice. Jennifer looked up and smiled.

"I'm sorry to put pressure on you, Milton," she said. "That was wrong. Please forgive me."

"You're forgiven, miss," he replied. "I... er... brought you a new knapkin." He nodded at the knapkin on the tray in a meaningful way.

"Sorry?" Jennifer was confused, why was he going on about knapkins when he should, by all rights, be throwing himself on her.

"I thought you really, really needed a new knapkin." Again the meaningful tilt of the head and a casting of his eyes at the knapkin.

Jennifer lifted it and said, "Oh!"

Under the cloth was an ancient tome. Small but quite thick, with the face of a sprite on the cover. The gold embossed title, Liber Fey, was in a very old-looking script that was quite hard to read.

"I'm going to do some tidying in the stacks," Milton said, very quietly. "If you leave the tray I will collect it when you depart."

And with that he left. Jennifer looked at the Professor who was already leafing through the tome. She could see the book was written in Latin and the print was dense and hard to read.

"It will take a long time just to work out what is in this book," he said. "Perhaps you should go and say thank you to Milton, unless you're an expert on sixteenth century Latin texts and have failed to inform me."

Jennifer hunted for Milton, passing many other scholars, each in their own booths or private rooms. She knew now that this was a closed-stack library where the public were not granted direct access to the books. This meant that there was a desk where a scholar could ask for a book, and behind that there should be an entrance to the stacks.

She found the desk but nobody was on duty. She raised her hand to ring the little bell in the centre of the desk but a sound caused her to pause. Behind the desk was a door, it was slightly open, and through the crack she could hear a woman's voice.

"Milton," said the voice, full of concern. "Whathasgot into you?"

There was no reply just a low growl.

"Now put it away Milton," continued the voice. "Or I'm going to have to report you to the Curator."

The growl continued.

"Milton!" the voice was getting quite alarmed. "I'm a widow, so I have seen a manhood before, but that's no excuse for what you're doing. I'm old. Old enough to be your grandmother. You cannot be aroused at the sight of me."

Ah, thought Jennifer, this is my fault. I made Milton passionate and he is about to lose his job because of me. I must do something. She stepped forward into the gloom of the stacks.

On a low stepladder was a slender woman who was possibly sixty years old. She was clinging onto a vertical handle on the stepladder to steady herself and her skirt was pooled around her ankles, rfevealing her drawers. Milton was dragging at said drawers, trying to expose her, and she was losing the contest. She had a couple of books in her other hand so, to efficiently resist him, she either had to drop the books, or lose her handhold. But a lifetime of treating books as precious handicapped her, and there was a real danger of a fall if she let go the handle. She was reduced to wriggling her hips in resistance.

Milton was also exposed. He had dropped his trousers and his manhood poked out from his underwear, fully erect. His efforts were uncoordinated. It seemed to Jennifer that he couldn't decide whether to climb up and embrace his librarian companion, or remove her drawers and fix his gaze on her sex.

"Er... hello," said Jennifer.

The female librarian looked at her, "Oh sorry miss but the public are not allowed in the stacks. You will have to leave. Eeek!"

Milton's fingers had finally prevailed and the drawers joined the skirts around the librarian's ankles. Her sex was revealed, all grey hairs and thick, wrinkled lips. He stepped up one rung and tried to apply his lips to her sex lips as she twisted in an attempt to avoid him.

"I'm sorry to intrude, Mistress" replied Jennifer. "You sounded as if you needed some help."

"Well I do seem to be in a bit of a pickle," replied the woman as Milton managed to place a couple of kisses on her sex. "Milton's not like this normally. He's a well behaved boy... usually."

"I have only met him today for the first time," said Jennifer. "He did seem hard working and attentive. My name is Jennifer, by the way."

"Eeek... aaah," replied the librarian. "Imogen, miss. Perhaps you can help by taking these two volumes of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicles. I am in great danger of dropping them."

The gap between the stacks was not large and the steps, and a very aroused Milton, made it hard to squeeze through but Jennifer worked her way past his writhing body and carefully took the two heavy volumes from Imogen's hand. She immediately applied her free hand to the top of Milton's head and tried to steer his lips away from her sex.

Jennifer held onto the two large tomes. They were heavy. Now she felt encumbered as she watched Milton grab Imogen's hips and push his tongue between her sex lips. Imogen's face softened with the contact, the pleasure something she had not enjoyed - presumably - for many years.

"Oh please stop it Milton," she gasped, though the tone of her voice was no longer critical of his actions.

"Er... where shall I put these?" Jennifer asked.

"Oh oh... top shelf dear," replied Imogen. She waved at the shelf above her head where there was a two-volume gap. "There's another set of steps over there."

Milton had abandoned trying to lick Imogen and was climbing up now. Jennifer strode down the stacks until she found the steps. They were cunningly designed to run on casters until someone put their weight on them, whereupon the casters withdrew and the steps became stable. Which was a good thing because, by the time she had returned with them, Milton was at the same height as Imogen and pressing his phallus between her thighs.

Jennifer set off up the steps next to Imogen's and climbed past the two lovers. Imogen was no longer resisting but starting to gasp and groan. Jennifer balanced herself on the top step and slid the two volumes of the earliest history of the Anglo-Saxon peoples into their place. She glanced down to discover Imogen looking up at her, mouth open, eyes full of lust, jerking around on Milton's manhood as he thrust upwards into her.

Then the desk bell rang.

"Oh... urgh... oh no," grunted Imogen. "It's a customer."

There seemed little likelihood that Milton would stop to allow Imogen to answer the bell so Jennifer whispered, "I will get it, don't worry, just please try to keep your moans as quiet as possible."

Imogen nodded and bit her lip.

As she passed through the door from the stacks Jennifer smoothed her dress and reached back to close the gap. She could still hear lusty gasps and groans. The scholar before her was very old, rheumy eyed, and was bent over with age. He didn't seem to be able to hear the sounds, perhaps he was a little deaf, Jennifer thought. He put a card on the desk. It contained the details of a book.

Jennifer picked it up, keeping clear of the scholar's skin, and wondered what to to next. Then she realised he was waiting for her to ask something.

"Where are you studying?" she quietly asked.

"Eh what?" he replied. "Oh... desk thirty-five."

Jennifer made a note of this number as the scholar walked away. The card was from the filing cabinets where you looked for books by title and author and was full of strange combinations of letters and numbers. The other side had a record of who had requested the book and the scholar had already filled in his name and the date. It was not a popular book, the last time someone had looked at it was five years ago.

There was nothing for it but to disturb the lovers. Jennifer was not confident she could find the book on her own. This place was very different from her library back home which was just one room. This was a maze whose walls were made by books.

Slipping back into the stacks she followed the sounds of passion and discovered things had progressed. Imogen was on her back on the floor with Milton on top of her vigorously thrusting. Imogen's bodice had come undone and her little, empty breasts were being grasped by Milton as if they were the most attractive things he had ever seen. Periodically he bent low to kiss the nipples.

"I have a request for a book," said Jennifer, showing the card to Imogen. The librarian waved her hand, encouraging Jennifer to bring it closer, then took it from her and studied it.

"Uh uh uh... you need to go... oh goodness," said Imogen, handing the card back. "Three stacks that way and then four that way. The section on Religious Heresies is on the third shelf up. Look for the number on the spine. Ooooh... ooooh Milton... you are as virile as my husband when we first met. Do not stop. I am feeling very... aaaah... nostalgic."

Jennifer was impressed with Imogen's knowledge of the stacks, and her ability to concentrate while a young man's phallus was pleasuring her. She followed the instructions and soon found the section. She was astonished. How many books were there on heresy? There seemed to be hundreds here, which was confirmed by the spine number which said the book she was looking for was number 178 on the shelf. And it was nowhere near the end of the section, there were plenty more beyond it.