Don't Judge a Book by its Cover

Continued from: The Librarian

As Summer delved deeper into the email from Skylar, her excitement was filling the room. "Oh, Mistress," she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with mischief, "what if we set up a sort of casting couch situation? Like a porn audition! We could have her masturbate for us or something. It would be so hot!" 

I threw my head back and laughed heartily. "Jesus Christ, Summer." lol. "Reason number 68, why I love you." 

"My darling," I replied, still chuckling, "while your idea certainly has its appeal, I must remind you that this young lady is a librarian seeking an administrative position, not an aspiring porn star."

Summer's cheeks flushed a delightful shade of pink, her sheepish grin only adding to her cuteness. 

"Oh, oui. Of course, Ma'am. I got a little carried away there, didn't I, please forgive me?"

"Is she on Insta-face or Tik-book, or whatever those apps are called, can you DM her?" I asked, while acting like someone clueless, not from Skylar's generation. (cuz I'm not)

With a thoughtful nod, I turned to Summer, my decision made. "Alright, my love, let's extend an invitation to this young librarian. Send her a private message inviting her over for a glass of wine and a chat tonight. Keep it casual and friendly, but make it clear that we're interested in discussing her potential role at the Facility." If we're not interrupting her gaming or anything...

The doorbell chimed precisely at seven o'clock, announcing the arrival of our anticipated guest. I smoothed my hands over my fitted black dress, ensuring every detail was in place before opening the door. There, standing on our threshold, was Skylar - and she was exactly as I had envisioned her. Petite and unassuming, her mousey features were accentuated by oversized, black-rimmed glasses that seemed to swallow her delicate face. She clutched a worn cardigan around her frame, the fabric bunching awkwardly over her track pants as she hugged herself in a display of vulnerability that was almost painfully endearing. 

"Welcome, you must be Skylar?" I greeted her warmly, stepping aside to allow her entry. "Please, come in." Her eyes darted nervously around the foyer as she stepped inside, probably assuming there would be metal cages hanging from the walls, illuminated by cauldrons of open flame. I watched her carefully, noting the way her shoulders hunched slightly, as if she were trying to make herself smaller, less noticeable.

"Thank you for having me, Mistress...um, I mean, Ma'am," she stammered, her cheeks flushing red. 

"Please, follow me to the sitting room, my wife, Summer is just finding us a bottle down in the cellar, is red ok?" 

She simply nodded and smiled. 

As we walked, I couldn't help but steal glances at our young librarian, my mind already spinning with possibilities. Her vulnerability was indeed adorable, but beneath that shy exterior, I sensed a flicker of something more - a curiosity, perhaps even a longing, that called to the dominant within me. 

I knew instinctively that Skylar was ripe for guidance, for molding into the submissive she was meant to be. Only time would tell, but as I ushered her into the sitting room where Summer awaited, I felt a surge of anticipation. This was going to be a most interesting evening indeed, which I would later come to learn, was the understatement of the year!

As Skylar settled into the plush loveseat, her initial nervousness seemed to dissipate, replaced by a surprising air of confidence. Summer and I exchanged curious glances, our interest piqued by the transformation unfolding before us. With a graceful gesture, Summer handed our guest a glass of wine, which Skylar accepted with a demure smile. As she took a sip, her eyes met mine over the rim of the glass, and I detected a glint of something unexpected - a spark of ambition, perhaps, or a hidden desire. 

"This is sort of like an interview, Skylar," I said to her, my words attempting to reassure this timid little thing. "We offer rather...unique services here at the Facility and we need to ensure you're not like a crazy cat lady, right?" I chuckled at my own joke, attempting to lighten the atmosphere a little. Sadly, it didn't quite work the way I planned.  

Skylar pushed her glasses up her nose and looked at the floor as she spoke. "I have a cat...his name is Gary." 

God, she was so innocent and adorable, I could have eaten her up right there! 

Setting her glass aside, Skylar leaned forward, her demeanour shifting from timid to determined in an instant. 

"Ma'am, Miss Summer," she began, her voice steady and clear, "I must confess that my interest in joining the Facility extends far beyond mere administrative duties. You see, I have long been fascinated by the dynamics of female dominance, by the power and beauty of women asserting their natural superiority over men." 

Summer and I stared at her, our jaws slack with shock at this revelation. Never in my wildest imaginings had I anticipated such a bold declaration from the seemingly shy librarian. Skylar continued, her words flowing with increasing passion, "I dream of having men groveling at my feet, of commanding their obedience and devotion. I want to explore every facet of this lifestyle, to push boundaries and discover the true extent of my own dominance." 

As Skylar's revelation hung in the air, she casually lifted her wine glass to her lips once more, taking a measured sip of the rich, crimson liquid. I watched, transfixed, as she swirled the wine gently, allowing it to coat the sides of the glass before bringing it to her nose. With a delicate sniff, she inhaled the bouquet, her eyes closing briefly to process her senses. When she opened them again, they sparkled with appreciation. "1991 Chateau Latour," she remarked meekly. "Very nice, Ma'am."

I felt as though the earth had tilted beneath my feet. I turned to Summer, my eyebrows raised in a silent expression of disbelief. Who was this woman, this enigma wrapped in a frumpy cardigan and track pants? How could someone who appeared so unassuming, so utterly ordinary, possess such refined tastes and hidden depths at her age? She wasn't even born when that vintage was bottled! 

As I grappled with the mounting surprises of the evening, Skylar reached into her worn book bag, rummaging through its contents with a slight frown of concentration. After a moment, she withdrew a crisp sheet of paper, holding it out to me in an awkward manner. 

"Here, Ma'am," she said, her voice steady despite the tremble in her hand. "I put together a little CV for you." 

I accepted the document, my curiosity piqued by her confident demeanour. I quickly scanned its contents, my eyes widening as I reached the section labeled Education: PhD in Astrodynamics. 

"Forgive my ignorance, my dear, but what exactly is a PhD in astrodynamics?" I asked, genuinely becoming more intrigued by this little pixie, as each minute passed. 

"Umm...Ma'am, I hold a doctorate from U of T. My thesis focused on how propulsion ratios affect steering outcomes in aeronautical use under reduced gravity loads." She rolled this off her tongue like she was talking about the weather. 

"Skylar, sweetheart...you're a rocket scientist?" I remarked bluntly, my tone tinged with surprise and admiration.

"I was," she replied.

Summer, who had been relatively quiet and in shock throughout most of this exchange, finally spoke. "It sounds like you don't need us honey, you should be working for like...NASA." Summer's casual remark hung in the air for a moment before Skylar responded, her voice barley above a whisper. 

"Actually, Ma'am," she said, adjusting her glasses with a shy gesture, "I already worked for them once." 

"But I did the math, Ma'am, and the money is considerably more attractive here," she sheepishly suggested, raising her hands to gesture toward the Facility as a whole. 

The revelation hit Summer and I like a physical blow, leaving us both momentarily speechless. A rocket scientist who had worked for NASA, now sitting in my living room expressing a desire to explore the world of female domination? It was almost too much to comprehend.

I hesitated for a moment, knowing that my next words might be difficult for Skylar to hear. But I had to test the waters, to help her shed the layers of insecurity and self-doubt that I can't believe she holds within her. 

"Skylar, sweetheart," I began gently," please forgive me for what I'm about to say, but I believe it's important." I paused, allowing the weight of my words to settle before continuing. "Down the hall, we have a changing room stocked with attire more befitting a dominant woman. Clothing that will help you embody the powerful, confident persona I know lies within you." As I spoke, I saw Skylar's body language retreat. She leaned back in her chair, her arms crossing protectively over her chest. 

"Oh, Ma'am," she whispered, her voice dropping into self-deprecation, "I couldn't possibly. I'm so frumpy and gross right now." 

My heart ached at her words, at the pain and insecurity that radiated from her. I rose from my seat, moving to kneel beside her chair. Gently, I took her hands into mine, uncrossing her arms and forcing her to meet my gaze. 

"Listen to me, Skylar," I said firmly. "You are not frumpy, and you certainly are not gross. You are a beautiful, intelligent woman, brimming with untapped potential." I squeezed her hands reassuringly. 

"I want you to go that changing room," I continued as I softened my tone, "and I want you to choose an outfit that makes you feel powerful, sexy, and in control. Trust me, my dear, sometimes female dominance starts from the outside in." 

Skylar's hazel eyes searched mine, looking for any sign of insecurity or judgement. Finding none, she nodded slowly, a tentative smile playing at the corners of her lips. 

Twenty minutes passed in a blur of conversation and distraction. Summer and I were engrossed in discussing Skylar's impressive resume. Speaks five languages, lived in Brazil, NASA, volunteer, and so on and so on. I was so engrossed by all of this, that I didn't hear the slow, timid click of high heels against hardwood, coming down the hallway. 

Summer's nails dug into the tender flesh of my thigh as she let out an audible gasp. I was jolted back to awareness. Startled by Summer's claws, I looked up, my eyes following Summer's wide-eyed stare, as Skylar walked into the room. 

Oh, my fucking gawd!! 

Mistress Andrea

xoxo

Continued in: The Future is Female