The Librarian Ch. 02

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TG librarian is molested by strangers but rescued by Randy.
5.2k words
4.56
13.4k
13

Part 2 of the 7 part series

Updated 06/08/2023
Created 08/02/2017
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MicheleNylons
MicheleNylons
3,930 Followers

Part Two - Sarah

They stopped for the night at a Holiday Inn Express on the outskirts of a nondescript town; they snagged a ground floor room that opened onto the parking lot. An hour out from the diner where they had lunch the man had to pull over so the librarian could upchuck her lunch.

"I told you it was too much," she sobbed between heaves.

"It's because you're a drunk and can't hold down your food," the man countered.

It was just on dark when they got to the motel. They went through the drive-through at Micky D's and got burgers and fries for dinner. The man stopped at a liquor store and got a half pint of Jack Daniel's, a six pack of Miller Lite and a six pack of Coke.

They heaved their bags into the hotel room and ate their burgers. He washed his down with a beer and she with a tumbler of JD and Coke; the man told her straight spirits were off her menu. They turned on the TV to fill the awkward silence.

"We're going to get fat eating all this junk food," the librarian said.

The man ignored her.

"You shower first then me," the man grunted when they'd finished eating.

The librarian squatted on the toilet and took care of her business and then took a long hot shower. She put on a little makeup, clean panties and bra and a long T-shirt rather than her usual negligee. When she came out of the bathroom a miasma of soap, shampoo and deodorant followed with her.

The man looked up from the file he was reading and was once again surprised out how different she looked out of her dowdy librarian clothes. Their eyes met briefly and they both quickly looked away.

The man poured her a half nip of JD and filled the tumbler with Coke and made a point of showing her that he was taking his phone, the liquor, and the car keys into the bathroom with him. She shrugged her shoulders and sipped her drink.

"Can I at least go outside for a smoke? It's not like I can run away dressed like this," the librarian said meekly.

"Sure you can. You can suck a fews dicks in parking lot too for all I care. Just don't try to run," the man walked into the bathroom and slammed the door.

The librarian flinched at the insult and padded outside on bare feet. She smoked two cigarettes and sipped her drink.

Two redneck looking guys were walking her way talking loud and weaving drunkenly and she decided it was time to go back inside.

She paled when she pushed against the door and realised she had locked herself out. She hammered on the door with her fists and was going to call out when she realised she didn't even know the man's name. She heard footsteps getting closer and then shadows fell on her.

"Well looky here! We got a damsel in distress," one man said to the other.

"Well maybe we should help her," the other man chuckled.

She could smell the booze and sweat on their bodies they were so close.

"Can we help you ma'am?" one of the men asked.

She shook her head and kept hammering on the door.

"Well it looks like whoever is in there doesn't want to let you in," one of the men chuckled.

"I don't know why. You look like a fine filly to me. Turn her around Troy and let's see if her face is as good as those long legs."

The man called Troy gripped the librarian and spun her around away from the door, pushing her against the redbrick wall. The other man looked both ways and then around the parking lot to see if there was anyone out and about. There wasn't, the place was deserted and except for the yellow courtesy lights placed strategically along the pathway outside the ground floor rooms the place was dark.

"She's a pretty one Brett," Troy had one hand on her shoulder and the other under her chin.

"And I bet she's got a figure to go with it under that T-shirt," Brett replied.

The librarian started to struggle and Troy squeezed her throat, cutting off her airway. She lashed out with her feet and Brett moved in and punched her in the belly knocking the wind out of her. She couldn't breath and she was starting to black out. She stopped struggling because she simply didn't have the energy to do so.

"That's better," Troy whispered in her ear and then he licked the side of face.

"She tastes nice too, freshly bathed" he chuckled.

"So anyway; where were we? Oh yeah, we was wondering about what's under that T-shirt," Brett said.

He produced a knife from his hip pocket and flicked a button and released a three inch blade. The librarian shook her head as Brett waved the knife under her nose.

"Now you behave and we won't have to spoil that pretty face now will we Troy?" Brett said.

"It would be a shame," Troy put his face to the librarian's, who had just begun to breathe again.

He pressed his lips against hers and she started to struggle. Troy pinned her wrists against the redbrick and Brett put the knife in the neck of her T-shirt and cut down. The sharp knife cut down through the fabric in one slice and the T-shirt fell open. The tip of the blade had caught her belly and a thin line of bloody droplets began to form.

"Oops!" Brett laughed.

Then he tore off the remnants of her T-shirt leaving her naked except her underwear. She wore a matching set of pink satin bikini panties and bra.

"I like pink," Troy sighed and began to kiss her again.

He forced his tongue into her mouth, his body pressing her against the wall while he held her wrists up high. She could feel his erection poking into her belly through his jeans. She felt the knife press into her side and she stopped struggling.

"That's better. You be nice to Troy and we'll be nice to you," Brett moved the knife slowly along her skin up her side and across to her chest.

Troy moved away to let Brett put the knife between her bra cups and he cut the strap so the cups fell away exposing her breasts.

"She's got nice titties. Just a handful but more than that is wasted I've always said," Troy grinned.

He let go of her wrists and squeezed her breasts, using his lower body to hold her against the wall. He started kissing her again.

"Hurry up and fuck her Troy afore' somebody comes. I wanna go too," Brett whined.

Troy continued to kiss the struggling librarian whilst viciously squeezing her breasts. One hand moved down her body and grabbed hold of the side of her panties preparing to rip them off her. The librarian started to wriggle and writhe again but Troy held her pinned to the wall.

"This won't take long darlin'. We'll just rip off those pretty pink panties and..." he didn't finish the sentence.

Troy's eyes suddenly became vacant and his body went limp. The side of face was a sheet of red blood. He fell to the concrete with a thud.

The librarian covered her breasts and suddenly realised that the man was standing next to Troy's prone body holding a tire iron.

"Now what did you have to do that for pilgrim? Now I'm just gonna have to stick you with this knife, stick her with my cock, and get the fuck out of here," Brett hissed, assuming a knife fighter's stance and waving the knife backwards and forwards.

"Oh fuck this!" the man pulled a small silver .22 from inside his jacket and shot Brett in the foot.

Brett started howling and dropped the knife, hopping around on his good foot holding the one shot.

"If you don't shut the fuck up I'm going to use the tire iron on you too," the man said mercilessly.

"Now you get your partner and you get the fuck out of here. You come back and it won't be a two-two I shoot you with," he growled.

"You come with me," he pushed the librarian ahead of him, through the motel room door and locked and bolted it.

The librarian stood sobbing in the centre of the room while the man rummaged around in one his suitcases and pulled out a small valise which he unzipped and placed on the table. He took some gauze and poured antiseptic from a small bottle.

"Come over into the light," he said, but the librarian remained sobbing in the middle of the room.

He walked over and slapped her across the face.

"Get a grip and get over here in the light!"

She walked over, teary faced, arms crossed across her chest.

The man ripped her arms away from her breasts and put them by her sides.

"I can't fix what I can't see," he said and sat on a chair in front of her.

He dabbed the antiseptic soaked gauze on the thin knife cut running up her belly.

"Superficial. Won't need stitches; probably won't even scar," he said robotically.

He opened a pre-packaged field dressing and put it on the wound and taped it in place. The librarian just stood there like a statue and let him work on her.

When he'd finished dressing her wound he poured two tumblers of Jack and gave her one. She started to gulp it and the man help the glass away from her mouth and she got the message. Sip it. She did.

"Finish your drink and get cleaned up. Don't get the bandage wet," he said.

He lit two cigarettes and she looked at him and shook her head and nodded at the no-smoking sign on the wall.

"Fuck it. They'll never track my credit card down anyway," he handed her a cigarette and she smoked it and sipped her drink.

It was only then that she realised that she was standing close to the man naked except for her panties. She saw him peeking at her breasts and body now and then but he made no untoward moves.

"Ok new rule. You don't leave my presence from now on unless it's absolutely necessary."

She nodded and dropped her cigarette into her empty glass, went over and got clean underwear and took another shower.

When she came out the man was lying on the bed on top of the covers reading the file. She dug out another T-shirt and shucked into it, no longer concerned about being in front of him in her underwear. It was obvious he had only a passing interest in her.

She noticed a small pile of blankets and a pillow piled up on the floor against the far wall. He saw her looking

"You're sleeping over there," he pointed with his chin.

"I paid for the room so I get the bed," he said.

"Can I have another drink?" she asked.

"One," he nodded at the table indicating she should pour her own.

Which she did and then started to make up her bed on the floor. She looked over and studied the man. He knew what he was doing; he was comfortable in tight situations and he knew how to fight.

"I didn't thank you," she said as she climbed under the blankets.

"For what?" the man looked up from the file.

"For saving me from those men," she replied.

"I couldn't care less if they fucked you up the ass all night and left you in the gutter when they'd finished with you. But I need you. I need you for this job and I need you in one piece," the man went back to his file.

The smile on the librarian's face disappeared, replaced by her usual dour countenance. She looked longingly at the bottle of Jack Daniel's on the table and pulled up the bed clothes. The man put the folder on the bedside table, checked the small pistol and put it on top of the file and turned out the lights.

The librarian came out of her slumber with a raging headache and realised that someone was kicking her. She opened one eye and the pain in her head increased. Her head was throbbing and she wanted to go back to sleep but someone was incessantly poking her in the side with a boot. She opened her eyes again and this time she saw the puddle of vomit beside her pillow and then she smelled it and began to dry reach.

"Don't you vomit again you fucking rummy!" the man kicked her again.

"Get your drunken ass into the shower and clean yourself up you pathetic piece of shit," punctuated with another kick.

She got to her knees and opened her eyes fully and saw the empty bottle of JD and four cans of Miller lying on the floor beside her blankets.

She tried to stand and nearly fell but the man grabbed her. He put an arm around her shoulder and led her to the bathroom and sat her down on the toilet.

"The rest is up to you sugar because I am definitely not giving you a bath," he shook her as she started to nod off again.

She sat in the passenger seat looking pale and sickly trying to sleep as the big V8 engine in the Mustang ate up the miles. The man looked over at her with disgust. He stopped for gas while she was sleeping and he bought another half pint of Vodka, a bottle of orange juice and some Tylenol.

He drove on until he came to a deserted rest area and he pulled over. He crushed four of the Tylenol in a Styrofoam cup and mixed them with a double shot of vodka and topped it up with orange juice.

He got out and opened the passenger side door and shook the librarian.

"Get up and get out. Get some fresh air, we need to talk before we get to LA," the man said.

She woke with a start and he reached across her and unbuckled her belt. She winced in pain and the man realised he was leaning on her knife wound. He helped her out of the car and led her to one of picnic tables and sat her down and went back to the car and bought the drink over. Her arms were folded on the table and she was resting her head on them.

"Here. Sip this. And I mean sip it," he held the Styrofoam cup to her lips and she sipped while he held the cup.

He put his arm around her to steady her and held her to him while she sipped the drink until it was all gone. She rested her head on his shoulder and he could smell the shampoo on her hair. He absentmindedly stroked her hair and she smiled. He was about to smile himself and then he realised what he was doing.

He pushed her off him.

"You really are a drunk aren't you," he hissed.

"Can I have a cigarette?" she asked, feeling forlorn.

He lit two and gave her one.

"How can you live with yourself? Knowing who you are? Knowing what you are?" he looked at the tip of his cigarette.

"I don't live with myself. I stopped living with myself just over twenty years ago. That's when I became the librarian, keeping myself to myself, keeping silent and drowning my memories with drink every night," she looked at the gravelly ground littered with decaying cigarette butts.

"I know who you were. That isn't in the dossier but I know," she could hear the hatred in his voice.

"You really do hate me don't you?" the librarian said.

The man didn't answer. He lit two more cigarettes and handed her one.

"Last one before we get to LA," he said.

"They came for us at night. It was about a year after Amanda's funeral. Or more precisely about a year after Tina Anderson disgraced them. They couldn't get Tina so they came for me and Drew," the librarian was drawing circles in a pile of cigarette ash on the table.

"I don't wanna hear it," the man said.

"You don't wanna hear it! You don't wanna hear it! Well fuck you!" the librarian screeched at him.

"You asked how I live with myself being what I am and being a hopeless drunk, well fuck you, I'm going to tell you anyway!"

"I haven't spoken about it for nearly twenty years and you're taking me back there! Back to Tina Anderson, whose fault it was anyway! Well fuck you Mister I'm going to tell it anyway and if you don't like it drive off and leave me, or cover your ears!" she was sobbing now.

The man just stared off into the distance.

"It was Bing Holthouse and Bobby Fillay. The other two probably didn't have the guts to go through with what Bing had planned, besides they still their families and their jobs," the librarian continued her story.

"Tina had drugged those four boys and filmed their debauchery in her motel room. They didn't know they were being secretly filmed by Devon Devine who cut the footage into a VHS video called Hotel Tranny Homo Hump Part Two."

"She sent copies to their wives. It was supposed to be revenge for what they did to me on Prom night but it backfired. Gerry Kershaw and Ben Mowbray's wives eventually forgave their husbands but Bing and Bobby's wives just couldn't. And beside losing their families Bing lost his trucking business and that put Bobby out of a job too because he worked for Bing."

"They couldn't stay in town. Word about the video got out and they couldn't stand the humiliation. Tina did a great job of fucking them over but they didn't come looking for her; those good old boys still blamed me."

"I told you I don't want hear this!" the man grunted.

The librarian ignored him and went on.

"Those boys knew that Devon was connected so they couldn't get to him and by then Tina was living with him so she was untouchable too. Drew and I were oblivious to their plan."

"Drew and I had settled into a town house in Berkeley; Drew had finished at Texas U and we both had our degrees. I was already making good money with a firm in the commercial market and Drew was doing ok. He was even playing in a local football team on weekends."

"We wanted to get married but even with my new birth certificate I was reluctant to engage the legal system so we slipped into Okalahoma where it was legal and became common law man and wife and then came home."

"I really don't want to hear any more!" the man was getting angry.

"Anyway Bing and Drew came for us one night. They broke in while we were asleep; they both had guns."

"They made Drew watch while they took turns violating me. They had a gun to his head so I did everything and anything they wanted," she was crying now.

"When they couldn't get it up any more and had finished with me Bing simply pulled the trigger and blew Drew's brains out. I wished they had killed me too, I begged them to kill me but they had other plans. They wanted to use me some more. They were high and drunk and excited and killing Drew had made them more so."

"Those fools would have likely got away with it had they killed me then and there, but they dragged me into the back seat of their pickup and Bing went to work on me again while Bobby drove. The cops shot Bobby to death in the front seat of that pickup when he pulled a gun after the cops pulled the truck over. That coward Bing Holthouse cried like a baby and begged for his life, scrambling out of the back seat of that pickup with his hands in the air and trousers around his ankles."

"I testified at his trial and they put him away for life but that didn't bring back Drew."

"And so I moved to somewhere where no one knows about my past and I live my shitty life as a shitty librarian in a shitty town and I am working hard at drinking myself to death. Like you said, I'll probably do the world a favour when I go."

"That's why I thought you'd come to kill me. I thought you were a relation or a friend of Bing or Bobby's looking for revenge."

Tears were streaming down the librarian's face. She looked up and saw that the man was crying too; sobbing with big heaves and his head in his hands.

She slid over to comfort him. She was amazed that he had any compassion for her.

She put an arm around him and stroked his hair.

The man leapt up from his seat and pushed the librarian away from him.

"Don't touch me!" he screamed.

He pushed her to ground.

"Don't you ever fucking touch me!" he kicked her in the solar-plexus and her diaphragm spasmed and she couldn't breathe.

She lay in the dust gasping and the man kicked her viciously in the buttocks. The man was till crying, his face red with rage.

He kicked her in the side and she rolled over on her back and looked up at him her face muddy with dusty tears. The man looked down at her with vehemence and hate, his fists were balled and his leg cocked back ready to kick her again.

"Do it! Finish it!" the librarian sobbed.

"I've had enough! Kill me! Kill me!" she bawled.

"I can't!" the man sobbed and unclenched his fists.

"Why can't you? Why? You hate me so much, why can't you kill me?"

"Because Andrew Carter was my brother!" frustrated, he kicked dust at her and walked away.

The librarian lay in the dust sobbing until she couldn't cry any more and then she tried to get to her feet. Her side hurt, her rump hurt, but most of all her belly hurt where he had kicked her in the solar plexus. She was able to sit up in the dust and she lifted her T-shirt and she saw the bandage was weeping fresh blood.

MicheleNylons
MicheleNylons
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