The Last Corner of History
copyright 2023 Taedis
It had taken most of the day scaling Biography. Even then, not all the way. A loitering patron delayed the ascent an hour mid-morning. By the time they wandered out of sight towards Literature, Edna's stomach was screaming for food. Her lunch was a crumb of sourdough (with whiffs of baloney and mustard) she'd found in Young Adult the day before. She ate with her back resting against the spine of Crick's Orwell. She wanted to flip through it, but that was impossible.
The lost hours had to be made up for in sweat and effort. Just because she couldn't see the clock didn't mean she wasn't on it. The ascent was hard enough at a normal pace; the one forced on her nearly broke her. The slots in the shelving units made perfect ladders. If she had shoes or gloves or time to take them slow. The steel was hard; her hands and feet near as soft as the bodystocking plastered to her heaving skin. Edna gave up more times than she could count. Then gave up on giving up.
Journeys end in lovers' meeting. Edna kept telling herself. She wasn't sure if she was quoting Shakespeare or Jackson.
By the time she reached the far end of the fifth shelf nothing worked anymore. Except the heart trying to stab its way out her chest and the pores flooding her in saltwater.
When she could breathe without her lungs exploding, Edna worked the costume's catch with swollen fingers. The top and shorts were black vinyl. The bodystocking beneath grey silk. The sports bra white utilitarian cotton. The underwear weaved into the stocking. Each was soaked. Each came off with a wave of frigid air and embarrassment. It was wrong being naked in her library but Edna needed to escape her suit before its heat turned clammy.
None of the volumes were short enough for Edna to drape her wet things over. She tried stuffing a bra strap between conflicting Aaron Burr accounts but the gap wasn't tight enough. She settled for dangling everything over the edge, as on the shelf as gravity allowed.
I'm not naked. Edna gave out a short laugh when she rested her head against a Columbus apology. I've still got my ears on. I've been wearing them so long. They're not a costume anymore. They're me.
“I'm doing this. I'm really doing this.”
There's no echo. I'm almost screaming and still nothing. I really have done it.
Mr. Barnes will be here soon. Maybe. If I'm right about the time. The lights are still on, so we can't be closed. And Mr. Barnes would never think about not checking the stacks before lights out. He's like clockwork closing the place. Always starting in the Children's Section, always finishing in History. And this is the last corner of History. He will turn that canyon and he will see me on his shelf with his books and he will know I am his too. For the first time ever, someone will see the real me. And it will be perfect.
Maybe.
Edna pulled her knees to her chin and played that first meeting in her head. In some scenarios he was the dominant owner of her fantasies. Others, the giant paladin of her dreams. A few of him were cruel. Most loving. One impossibly sadistic.
Is it too much to want all of the above?
The AC cooled her faster than she'd planned. Edna would have to put something on or be shivering when Barnes found her. I'll be shaking no matter what, Edna rationalized. But thirty years of modesty had her scurrying for her clothes.
It feels weird not having a tail.
The shorts and the top were vinyl dry. The things that went under them, not so much. The bodystocking was at least close, but the bra was still drenched. It all smelled stale. Over worn. Even the tail attached to the shorts. It wasn't the first time Edna regretted bringing only one outfit into her brave new world. Maybe Mr. Barnes would let her launder her things in the Mens Room sink.
Edna let out a heavy sigh as she lowered her butt down on the edge. She let her legs dangle over the abyss trying to look forward not down, up not inward. This high up the skyscraper shelves, Edna had to remind herself that the fall would only hurt her calm. It had taken hours to get this high up; it'd take heartbeats to reach the floor again.
She lay the driest layer on her lap with the bodystocking splayed over that. The bra she held by one strap as she whipped it against the edge hoping to get it dry enough for her skin and Mr. Barnes view.
I could whip it over my head like a helicopter till it's dry. I'd look like a stripper hurling her lingerie to the back of the crowd. I'd look like a porn star. Imagine me being that sexual. And what if Mr. Barnes saw me? What would he think? What if I just let go and the only bra in the world that fits me flew all the way to Geography?
The bra didn't even make it halfway to the next shelf-scraper.
“I did that.” Edna watched the sodden fabric plummet to the carpet.
Mr. Barnes will be here soon. Maybe. If the lights don't go off first. It's not all dry yet, but I should get dressed. He'll think it's a sex thing if he sees me in just my ears with my bra tossed across the room like a slut. It will give him ideas.
Edna didn't look down as the bodystocking fluttered away. Didn't see it get caught in the AC currents and snag somewhere on the third shelf.
It's not too late. I still can cover everything I'd cover at the beach. Mr. Barnes doesn't need to see any more of me than I want. I'm still in control.
The top was heavy enough to make it to the floor.
That's it. There's nothing left for me to wear but my ears and tail. Even if I wanted to dress, I'll still be topless when Mr. Barnes finds me.
The shorts weren't really shorts. The lady at the adult emporium called them panties, but Edna hated that word so they became shorts. Whatever their title, they were cut high and thin and didn't cover much. Most of the material was in the back where the top of the thong met Edna's spine. Where the tail was attached.
What was that Orwell quote I was thinking of earlier? Without the bodystocking, the shorts rode up and into Edna, front and back. A violation she hated. But not as much as not having a tail. “Freedom is slavery.”
“This is freedom.”
Her nipples were diamonds against her arms when she modesty-crossed them.
No. That's cheating. I made my decision and I have to stand by it. Even if I am weak.
The only thing stronger than her will was the tail. It felt obscene pulled between her legs but it was the shortest route. The one that gave Edna the most petard to hoist herself upon. Her first attempt at self bondage saw her hands tied together over her crotch. Edna nixed that idea before the knots became too much for her to untie. It gave her modesty and access she didn't feel she deserved. She flirted with tying her hands behind her back, a pose she'd worn in many fantasies, but her knotsmanship wasn't up to that challenge. In the end she settled for binding her hands together level with her navel. The tail wrapped around her wrists so many times, she couldn't tell where one knot ended and another began.
This is freedom. Edna knelt on the edge waiting her journey's end. And damn George Orwell for not meaning it.
By the time Edna changed her mind it was too late. Mr. Barnes was already thunder-stepping past English Lit into American. Soon he'd pass Rhetoric and Criticism. Then he'd make History and it would be too late.
A fight-or-flight cocktail was surging through Edna's veins. If she hadn't been kneeling she might have scurried to cover ahead of the head librarian. Had she been an inch taller, the adrenaline might have given her the strength to break her bondage.
The storm was around the corner.
Edna closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. She knew it pushed her chest out. Knew he'd see everything. Knew she wasn't much on top even before the shrinking. If I have to be on display I should do it right.
The thunder stopped.
A warm breeze washed over her carrying the scent of sourdough, cheap meat, and mustard.
“Miss Huff?” the thunder whispered after several dozen heartbeats.
“Yes.” Edna had to shout to be heard. She cracked her eyes a sliver of a hair. Oh, my God.
“You're …”
“Yes.” Another sliver cracked. I want to get lost in your hair.
“Who did this to you?”
“I did. Sir.” His voice. So kind. So concerned. It's a good thing I'm kneeling. I'd drop fast if I was standing.
“Is that … is that a whip between your legs?”
He even has the decency to blush. “No, sir. It's my tail.”
Mr. Barnes looks so thoughtful. Edna opened her eyes full. I wonder what he's thinking. He looks so … everything. I want to kiss my way up his dimple. I want to wash his glasses with my body. I want to ride his … He must think I'm awful.
“Why?”
“Because I'm a mouse.”
“That explains the ears.”
“Do you like them?”
“I've read about this.”
“Me too. Obviously. … It took a lot for me to do this.”
“Are you ok?”
God. He's looking me in the eyes. I'm fetish posed in front of him with my boobs sticking out and Mr. Barnes is meeting my gaze and asking if I'm ok.
“Look at me, Miss Huff.”
“I am so stupid.”
“That wasn't the question.”
“I don't know.”
“First things first. It looks like you've tied yourself pretty good. Can you get out of that yourself or do you need help?”
“I don't think so. When I heard you coming I tried.”
“There's tweezers in my desk but I'm worried I might hurt you if I miss. Your wrists look delicate.”
“Thank you.” Why am I thanking him. That was an observation, not a compliment.
“There might be enough slack for me to cut the tail.”
“No. Please. I know it's dumb but it's my tail and I don't want it cut.”
“I could cut your panties instead.”
“Please don't cut my … panties.”
“I'll look away. Once I'm sure I won't cut you.”
“You've already seen everything else.”
“Only what you wanted to show me.”
“I don't mind.”
“That's … thank you.”
“But I don't want to cut my panties.”
“Can you slide them down yourself? The knots might be easier to work with the pants off.”
“I don't think I can.”
“Miss Huff.”
“You don't have to call me that.”
“Edna?”
“I mean you can call me anything you like.”
“I think it's safe to say you're playing out some sort of fantasy. I don't think it's unreasonable for me to assume it involves power exchange and you being on the short side of that equation.”
“That's fair.”
“So when you say you don't think you can pull your pants down, are you being 100% truthful or is there a part of you who wants me to do the job?”
“I … want you to strip me. Sir.”
“Let's put a pin in that for now. I'm guessing you used one of the apps to shrink yourself. Where's your phone?”
“I stashed it on the top shelf in music theory. I used a timer.”
“When are you due to grow back? And will your bondage grow with you?”
“I didn't set it that way. I just set it to make me mouse-sized after I stashed it out of reach. I knew there'd be no chance of me getting it up there. I waited till the library was almost closed.”
“What about your normal clothes.”
“I left those in a backpack. You grabbed it half an hour after later.”
“It's probably still in lost and found. When did you do this?”
“End of March.”
“It's April 10th.”
“When you're a mouse it's easy losing track of days. Guess I went a bit feral.”
“And I suppose you want me to tame you.”
…
“You stay here and make a legitimate attempt at getting those pants off. I'll get your phone. If you're still having trouble with your panties when I get back, I'll do the honors.”
“Ok. The bad news is your phone is dead and I don't have a charger. The good …” Mr. Barnes hefted a backpack up to Edna's level. “I think I found your things.”
“That's my bag.”
“There's no ID and no charger. I checked.”
“I said I was stupid.”
“You're not.”
“I'm sorry for throwing this at you like this. I wasn't thinking.”
“That, I'll buy. I see you're still wearing your little pants.”
“I tried. Honest.”
“I know you said you were ok, but just to reiterate, you're giving me consent to take them off.”
“Yes.”
“And see you naked when I'm done.”
“Please.”
“Alright. I don't know where this falls in your fantasy, but I found something that'll help.”
“Knitting needles?”
“I'm allowed hobbies. These are the smallest pair I have. Enough of an edge to go under the waistband without cutting you or those precious panties.”
“I hate that word. Panties.”
“You used it earlier.”
“Only after you called them that. You're changing my vocabulary.”
“You want to be owned by a librarian. Get used to it.”
“You monster.”
“I want to take this slow.”
“I understand.”
“I'm talking about your unveiling. Not whatever relationship this qualifies as. I've done some thinking.”
“What kind of thinking?”
“Filthy thoughts. Now let's get you naked. Slowly.”
“I won't break. Promise.”
“Who said anything about that? You want to be shown; I'm warming to the idea of revealing you.”
“Just leave the ears on.”
“Yes, ma'am.”
The bamboo needles would've felt smooth to Edna's normal skin. They were rough and uneven against mouse-flesh and thicker than her forearms. Mr. Barnes worked them under the waistband at opposite ends of Edna's hips. The strips of vinyl that had already worked their way into her most intimate areas sawed deeper inside as they stretched.
Don't moan. Whatever you do Edna, don't moan. He knows you want this but he doesn't KNOW.
“How's that feel?”
He is so calm. “F…fine.”
“Are you sure? I'm sensing a little hesitation.”
Instead of pulling down, Mr. Barnes lifted until the vinyl was fucking her from both sides.
“You're going the wrong way,” Edna had to hiss the words to get them out. The pressure and the humiliation and the powerlessness were doing a number in her head and in her crotch.
“Am I?” His eyebrow raised with the knitting needles until Edna had to stand on tiptoe or be taken up into the sky. “The parts of you I can see seem to be into this. And I see everything.”
“I have a charger back in my apartment.”
“I'm sure you do.”
“You could make me normal again. If you want.”
“What do you want?”
“This.” A fat tear blossomed out of the corner of her eye.
“I could do anything I want.”
Was that a question? “Yes.”
“I bet that was hard to admit.” Mr. Barnes moved the needles a fraction of a hair back and forth building up a rhythm in Edna's center.
“please”
“I could leave you here, a mouse in the library. Toss your phone in the river. Burn the backpack. No one would ever know but me. I could leave you little snacks.”
“mhm”
“Or I could restore you. Get you back to the life you abandoned. Turn you from rodent back to bookworm. Delete the app so you could never go down this rabbit hole again. And every time you saw me, you'd remember this moment. Know that I know what you wanted. Denied you.”
“ohhh”
“Then again, I could tame you. Make you my pet. Teach you tricks. Keep you in a cage on my dresser. Read to you. Cause you're obviously too small to even pick up a book. And what would a mouse know about reading anyway?”
“ohh ohh ohh ohh” Tears cascaded down Edna's cheek as she exploded.
“I think we have a winner. Good girl. Let it all out.”
The lights were out when Edna woke. There was no sign of her tail or the panties it was attached to. No sign of him. She was still on one of the library shelves. It was impossible to tell which one in the dark.
“Mr. Barnes.”
He left me here. He said he was going to do it and he did.
“Sir?”
This is my life now. I'm nothing but a mouse in the library. This isn't what I wanted. I wanted …
“Master?”
“It's a little premature to be calling me that now.” Mr. Barnes voice echoed from the other side of Literature.
“I thought you'd abandoned me.” Edna braced herself against an anonymous volume before getting up. Her legs were still rubber. “I don't want that. Not really.”
“You looked like you needed a moment.” The light from his phone preceded his face. “Things got pretty intense.”
“That's an understatement.”
“You can tell me about it on the way home.”
“Whose home?”
“You tell me. I can bring you back to your place, charge your phone, and let you take it from there.”
“No.”
“Are you sure?'
“I want to be with you. Absolutely.”
“I'm still picking up the charger.”
“Ok. That's ok. Where's my tail?”
“Right here.” Barnes tapped his pocket. “Along with a matching top and bra I found on the floor. These are getting a wash and I'm giving you a bath.”
“I'd like that. Ow. I had a bodystocking too. I want to wear that for you.”
Barnes panned the phone light towards the lower shelves.
“Earlier you said I didn't have to call you Miss Huff or Edna.”
“You can call me whatever you like.”
“Names are powerful things.”
“I know. I want …”
“What do you want, pet?”
Edna melted a bit. “I want you to have that power.”
“Ok. From now on you are Turd Burglar.”
“What?”
“Relax. It's only until you've learned your lesson.”
“What lesson?”
“We both have good imaginations. I don't even want to think about all the things that could have gone wrong with your 'plan'. You're lucky to be making it out of this alive. Or that I'm not some sicko.”
“You are kind of a sicko. But I get your point.”
“Then tell me your name.”
“Come on.”
“How about Twatface McRuntsalot?”
“OK. I'm Turd Burglar.”
“Either I found some cobwebs or your bodystocking, Turd Burglar.” Barnes lifted something to his face. “Yep. That has a familiar aroma.” He stuffed it into his pocket with the rest of Turd Burglar's dirty laundry.
“Am I going in that pocket?”
“I don't know if I can trust you that close to my junk yet.”
“I would never hurt you.”
“I'm not worried about you 'hurting' me.”
“Well you have to carry me someway.”
“How about in my jacket pocket?”
“I like the sound of that.”
“Gently wrapped in these.” Barnes held up a pair of green panties.
“That's the pair I wore the day I shrank. They're dirty.”
“Cleaner than what you have been wearing.”
“I've got cash back at my place. When we pick up the charger.”
“You don't need to pay me. I'm dominating you out of the goodness of my heart.”
“I was thinking. Before you take me to my new home. That maybe … we could do a little shopping.”
“Were you thinking adult emporium or pet shop?”
“You decide.”
