The Devil’s Librarian

Chanel had been feeling extreme fatigue for the last few days, and no amount of sleep would help. She couldn't make sense of it. Her recent inconsistent sleep schedule to be with Bolt may be an explanation. But she had always been someone who stayed up late reading. She was still looking forward to the night. Her heart behaved strangely all day, beating too fast thinking about the new possibility that lay ahead.

That night, she drove to the riverside spot to meet Bolt's friend. But he didn't show up on time. The damp stems of the nearby trees smelled so awful that she had to close her car windows. She had to wait forever in the darkness that made her start to lose hope. She had no idea when she went deeply asleep. So deep that Bolt's friend had to pound on her car window repeatedly to wake her up. Chanel awoke startled, gazed at his face in the darkness. He was completely shrouded in a black long scarf. Gathering herself, she apologized for falling asleep rather than scolding him for arriving late.

"I'm so sorry, I overslept," she said quickly. "I'm Chanel. Bolt sent me to collect the... box. You know what I mean."

The man was nothing like Bolt in demeanor. "Yeah, yeah. So you're the bitch he mentioned," he said flatly. "Listen ya cunt, you take the box straight to your side-dick, and no clever moves. I'll kill ya both if the cops ever find out."

Chanel swallowed the insult, given the favor he was offering. She had a hard time believing this man was Bolt's friend. Without another word, the man pulled out a box from his bag and handed it to her. She caught a glimpse of his dark skin and thick beard for a fleeting moment. He vanished so quickly that she didn't even manage to say goodbye. The box felt far heavier than she had expected. Her heart leapt with delight as she turned her car to go back. Only then she looked at the clock on the dashboard. It was past midnight. She had no idea how long she had been sleeping.

She jumped into Bolt's arms as soon as she entered the archive room. He set the box aside and pulled her into a deep, passionate kiss.

"I love you, my darling, you are the best," was all he said.

That made her burst into laughter that wouldn't stop, bright with happiness. They danced and kissed and held each other in arms. Chanel let herself shed her clothes, met his eyes with a soft smile. "Take me, my love," she whispered, "make me yours."

Bolt kissed her again and said, "Might try something new tonight, maybe somewhere I haven't been before."

Chanel pulled back, eyes wide. "Like what?"

He smirked, "You trust me, don't you?"

She looked perplexed, but weakly nodded. He kissed her neck, biting just hard enough to make her puff. He gripped her butt cheeks with both of his hands, squeezed them hard before parting them, all the while kissing her.

"B-Bolt..." she fumbled, "I have never done it there before and you are so big. I am so scared. And I just..."

But he shushed her with another deep kiss, swallowing her protest. "You'll love it, I promise. I will go slow."

Butterflies fluttered in her gut, and she sensed nervous excitement. He leaned her onto the table. Her hands gripped the sides, and her chest dropped on the table-top. Her butt arched toward Bolt, offering him a delightful sight. He nudged her legs wider and parted the ass cheeks to bring her tiny hole into view. He spat into her puckered hole and circled her opening with his middle finger. She tensed when his other hand rubbed her clit in rough circles. Her nails scraped the table. Bolt's spit-slick finger pushed past her rim, inside her asshole up to a knuckle, "Fuck, you're tight."

She yelled out, her eyes widening in agony and astonishment. "I... I don't know if I can..." Chanel whimpered, her cunt clenched around nothing.

Bolt chuckled darkly, "Just relax, you take it so good." He worked his finger deeper as she shuddered. He added another finger, stretching her slowly.

"Bolt,... oh god..." Her buttocks twitched violently, either from nervousness or discomfort.

He pulled his fingers free. Chanel was relieved for having her butthole free of invasion, not for long though. Bolt sat on his knees, parted her rear cushions again. His tongue snaked out and touched the sensitive hole once. Chanel shivered at the unfamiliar touch. His warm, wet tongue attacked her hole passionately. The unbearable tickling made her toe curl. Her moans turned into cry. She twitched her butt due to the tickling, yet complied with her lover's new form of invasion. To her utter surprise, she gradually came to like the anal foreplay. Bolt licked the entrance and shoved his rubbery tongue-tip inside her hole as far he could. She now parted her butt cheeks with her own hands to ease her lover's tongue to go in.

After some foreplay, Bolt pressed the blunt head of his dark cock against the hole. But the hole did not give way so easily. Chanel felt the tip of his cock at her backdoor, and growled, "Wait!"

But he kept pushing anyway, slow and steady, savoring the way. Her hole fought against it but gradually gave in. Bolt pushed with one hand grabbing his shaft and the other using two fingers to widen her asshole. Chanel gritted her teeth, her hands still held her butt cheeks spread apart. With a big shove, he just managed to get his huge head into that tiny cave.

"Ugh!!" she groaned, it felt like a tennis ball was crammed inside her. Bolt kept pushing his length in. Every inch of him stretched her hole in ways she never thought possible.

Relax, it's gonna be ok,Chanel told herself. Bolt gasped, the contraction of her anal muscle bit his cock so hard that he was struggling to get any deeper. Chanel felt a bit more stretched with each stroke, and a burning sensation within. Her breasts rose and fell against the table-top as she was panting heavily. He slowly rocked back and forth. Chanel felt overwhelmingly filled up along her asshole. She couldn't understand why Bolt was still pushing in.

"Is it fully in?" she groaned.

"It's about halfway through, my love. You are doing great," Bolt grunted.

"What!!! Are you fucking kidding me?" It seemed like his cock was tearing up to her stomach, and it was barely halfway in? Bolt took a deep breath and spread her butt cheeks apart with his hands. Then with a hard push he shoved his cock balls deep inside her anus. He grunted in agony from the pressure inside her butthole.

"Ah...." Chanel let out a screeching yell like a slaughtered animal. Her scream shattered the silence of the archive room. She was so stretched out by this massive black cock that her body began to spasm wildly on the table. When Bolt let go of her ass cheeks, they surged toward the center, only to collide with his girthy cock that separated them. Bolt retracted his shaft. That felt like a beer bottle was being pulled out of her bowel. Her ass pulsed around his shaft. Her ass muscles clenched involuntarily as he dragged his cock halfway out, then slammed back in. Her body trembled from the intense pressure. The huge cock should have been the last thing a first-timer needed up her ass. The sensation was obscene, too much, too full and above all, a pain in the ass.

"How does it feel, baby?" he asked.

"It's big, it's filling my ass up like never before," Chanel murmured in the midst of panting and moaning.

He sped up, ignoring his prior promise to go slow. His cock slid in and out, tearing and stretching her tight hole. The burning feeling started to die out as the sliding became a bit smooth. After a few minutes she began to take his meat with ease. His thighs slapped against her butt cheeks as he hammered into her asshole.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Oh my god!!" was all she could say while her fists clenched on the table. SPANK! Bolt's gigantic palm banged on her butt cheek.

"Ah..." she cried, only to receive a couple more spanks on both of her rear cushions. Her butt cheeks turned red from the spankings. His massive balls slapped against her labia. His thick rod made its way into her hole, where no one had ever been before. He showed no sign to stop soon, and it became hard for the tight hole to absorb the relentless pistoning. Her anal muscles began to ache. His cock was doing havoc on her butthole. And the poor hole will never be the same again.

Chanel whimpered while having her ass destroyed and said, "You love my ass, don't you, honey?"

Bolt snorted, "Yes, sweetheart, I love your ass so much," then spanked again. "You have the nicest ass ever," and continued hammering the little hole with his huge shaft. "Take me, baby, take me all the way in," his voice thick and rough.

The hammering reached a speed where it became overwhelming for Chanel. Her vision blurred, her hair disheveled. She began to groan in a broken voice, "It's too much, baby. It's stretching my ass. Please cum."

"Just a bit, honey. I am almost there. I love you so much, you know that," Bolt kept fucking her ass, kissing her back, and saying her beautiful things.

She could feel him throbbing inside. Her butthole felt like radiating heat. Tears streaked her cheeks, mixing with sweat. "Please cum, please cum, it hurts," she choked out. Her body jerked with each thrust. Her asshole clenched around him, trying to milk him dry. All the while she was chanting, "please cum" in broken moans.

Chanel's whimpers turned into ragged gasps as she felt him swell inside her. The thick veins along his cock pulsed against her walls. Her toes curled, her thighs trembled. She was wrecked, split open. Her butt squeezed him tighter as if begging for his release.

Bolt grunted, his rhythm slowed down as his orgasm ripped through him. Hot cum flooded her ass in thick, spurting ropes. Each pulse filled her up and she could feel it inside her. Chanel's body quivered as he finally pulled out, slowly. Still savored the resistance. A thick line of sticky cum steadily trickled down her inner thigh.

Finally, once the cock was pulled out of her asshole, she stood up and turned around like a moonstruck. But she couldn't see Bolt as she was seeing bright yellow stars. The next second, she collapsed on the mattress, face down. Her breath hitched, her anal muscle throbbed with aftershocks of the abuse. The sore in the hole made her bite her lip. Her butthole turned red from the abrasion. The swollen rim was gradually returning to its original form. Chanel lay on her tummy with her eyes closed.

Bolt sat beside her, brushed a loose strand of hair from her face. His voice again dipped in velvet, "I'm proud of you, darling. That was a rough one. Let me see your pretty face, little dove. How do you feel?"

Chanel gave a tired smile. "Exhausted... but happy."

"That was a lot," he said softly. "You did great for a first timer."

She smiled again. A faint ache tugged at her chest though, wondering how many other first timers he had witnessed.

"You are one tough little dove, you know that?" He patted her butt cheek as she giggled. "You are gonna be sore tomorrow, sitting might be difficult..."

"No worries, I'll manage," Chanel assured him.

He hesitated, then asked, "Tell me the truth, do you feel abused? It was savage to do such terrible things to a lovely girl like you.

Chanel shook her head. "No. I'm okay."

"No?" he exclaimed.

"I needed this," she said quietly. "I wanted to know what it felt like. I'm glad that it was with you."

He teased gently. "You loved it when I did bad things to you?"

She breathed out, almost laughing. "I loved it. Sometimes it feels good to be reckless. With you."

Drained to the bone, Chanel forced herself to gather what strength she had and head home. She didn't want to, but Gary would be back by dawn.

The next morning, Chanel arrived at the library early as usual. The lack of sleep left her weak and unsteady. The ache in her butthole was unbearable. She had to sleep curled on one side last night, just to avoid lying on her butthole. She carried a small box of cupcakes like she had on the first morning. She unlocked the archive room with a soft smile. But the room felt strangely hollow. Bolt wasn't there.

She called his name once, barely above a whisper. No reply. She checked the washroom nearby. No one was there. She walked toward the distant shower room. A wicked idea crossed her mind. She took off all her clothes, and proceeded cautiously. Reaching there, she peeped inside.Empty.

That was when she noticed the dark corner. The mattress, the blankets, the spare clothes, the little things she had brought, with so much care. All of it was piled there, abandoned.He was gone.And she had come for him, offering herself completely, stripped of caution and pride, to someone who had never intended to stay. Her knees got weak and she sat on the cold floor. Her breath felt trapped somewhere in her chest. A sense of betrayal paralyzed her slowly. Devastation came next, quiet and crushing.

For days, a faint suspicion had been tugging at her. The recent symptoms in her body could not be ignored. Her morning sickness and smell sensitivity were reasons for her fear. With shaking hands, she went to the washroom and took the pregnancy strip. She waited. The faint lines appeared, clear and obvious.Pregnant.She closed her eyes. She didn't need anyone to explain. She knew.It was HIS.

She dressed up, slowly. Somehow, she made her way downstairs and sat at her desk. Everything around her felt empty and still. She thought back to the first day she met him. He didn't break into her world. She opened the door. All she ever wanted was something more than silence. She found him. He spoke like poetry, but read her like a manual. And when he was done, he vanished between the pages. It was only afterward that the humiliation struck, sharp and undeniable. She let him in, she made herself so available, she bent her principles at work and tainted the place she cared for. Above all, she let her dignity slip.

A few minutes later Tony arrived, came to her rushing. "Did you hear?" he said, settling into his chair. "Big police operation this morning. A friend of mine from the newspaper told me. A drug dealer was on the run. He had a ridiculous name, Escobar. What a show-off?" He chuckled lightly. "They say he slipped across the state line by river. Police couldn't catch him."

His words felt like coming from a distance. Chanel stared ahead, hands folded, still awestruck. So, she brought his drug consignment last night, not the proof of his innocence. And Bolt is a made-up name, just like Escobar. Was he at all a real man? The world kept moving. Books, voices, footsteps, ordinary life, people. Inside, everything had stopped.

*********** ***********

Chanel couldn't continue her marriage with Gary. She felt sick with guilt about cheating on him and ruining everything around her. In time, she gave birth to a son. Her son, Bolt's son. She named him Evan. He had warm honey-brown skin and cute, curly hair. His dark, curious eyes and long eyelashes made it impossible not to fall in love with. Chanel felt that despite all the turmoil, life had handed her something impossibly precious.

It wasn't easy to raise a mixed race baby as a single mother in a small town. She had to go through loads of judgmental eyes that continuously frowned upon her. Still she kept going, drawing strength each time she looked into the baby's beautiful face.

Through highs and lows, life carried on. Evan was five years old now. He had soft curls that sprang loose across his forehead. His smile arrived shyly on the corner of his lips, then took over his whole face. No matter how much Chanel tried to bury the memories of his father, Evan's smile and his posture while sleeping constantly reminded her of that man.

Chanel decided to take a short vacation to her cousin Anna's farmhouse. It was just a couple of hours' drive from home. The place was surrounded by wide crop fields and packed with farm animals. The nearby woods were especially beautiful this time of year. The country border lay barely a mile away that offered a sweeping view of the river. Evan would definitely love that. When Chanel called, Anna and her husband, Brian welcomed them warmly. Their voices were filled with genuine excitement.

They set off in the afternoon, hoping to arrive before dinner. Evan was bursting with excitement. He chattered nonstop about all the things he was going to do at the farmhouse while Chanel fastened him into his safety seat in the back. The highway was jammed, heavy with vacation traffic. So after about twenty minutes she took a shortcut. It turned out to be a wise decision. The car glided swiftly along the narrow road. The cool countryside breeze was calming. Before long Evan drifted off to sleep.

The farmhouse came into view just as the sky turned dark. Chanel's car rumbled onto the gravel path. The headlights of the car swept across the field. The house stood quiet, and the porch light was still off. She got there early, almost an hour ahead of time.

In that stillness, something caught her eyes. She squinted. From the barn's far door, a figure dashed into the open. A man, wearing a hoodie. He ran low, desperate, into the dark, away from the light.Did he come to steal? Is Anna safe?Chanel hit the accelerator and rushed toward the house. She barely slowed at the turn as her eyes missed the running figure for just a second. He was sprinting, face hidden in the shadow, not seeing the road ahead. The car swung around the turn, almost hit him as she stomped on the brakes. He jumped back in shock, and his hood fell off. Her headlights caught his face for a fraction of a second. Then he vanished like a shadow melted into the darkness. Her stomach dropped. It's HIM! She can not forget that face.

The sudden shake from the halt roused her son in the back seat. He blinked at the disappearing figure, "Who was that, Mommy?"

"No one," she said, her jaw tightened as she gritted her teeth.

She hadn't spoken his name in years. Didn't have to. His ghost lived in her child's laugh, his jawline echoed in her son. And now... he wasn't a ghost after all. He was here. Fleeing from god knows what.

What was he doing here?Chanel parked the car into the shadowed edge of the driveway, careful about alerting anyone of their presence. She told Evan not to leave the car in any condition unless she came back for him. She stepped out quietly, locked the car and moved toward the barn slowly. Her heart pounded abnormally. The barn door stood slightly ajar, swayed gently.

Chanel leaned in. The barn was barely lit by a dangling bulb. Chanel had to adjust her eyes to the dim light. Inside, there was Anna, half-naked, pulling her blouse over her head. She was humming a soft, tuneless melody as she shook out her tangled hair. Her skin flushed, her skirt twisted at the waist. She was giggling. Chanel's heart stopped. This wasn't an intrusion. It was the aftermath. Not a crime, but a rendezvous!!!

Anna never turned, never saw her. Chanel shrunk and stepped back from the door. The barn stood as the mirror of the archive room in front of her. In loving the devil, she burned herself, and now she watches the fire ignite for another.

Suddenly, from the direction of the driveway, a voice called out: "There you are!"

Brian just got out of his car. "Didn't expect you so early!" he called out cheerfully as he walked toward Chanel's car. She turned and rushed back to the driveway.

"I was near the market when I saw your car pass by, figured it had to be you. So I followed you home," Brian went on in his naturally loud, easygoing voice. Chanel was awestruck, her quiet mood stood in sharp contrast to his overflowing friendliness. He pulled Evan into a tight hug that won the boy over right away.

Anna dashed toward the front yard. Chanel felt the remnant of the secret tryst still written on her face. Her cardigan covered up the messy blouse underneath. Chanel had a hard time staying calm with everything she had just witnessed. She didn't know how to react to this embarrassing situation where her own broken past was strangely entwined.