She's not a friend, but maybe not an enemy.

Sarah remained perfectly still, looking like a lovely figurine, every limb perfectly positioned. The most practiced curtsey I'd ever seen in my life. The librarian regarded her coldly for several seconds before nodding ever so slightly.

"Very well. I'll permit you to stay." She gestured with her stick at me, and it was like my body became a puppet on a million invisible strings. I stood bolt upright, back straight, chin up, shoulders back and tits out. The librarian approached me and placed a leather-bound book atop my head as I struggled to breathe evenly in my strict posture and tight latex. The strings vanished, leaving me standing under my own power again but I felt horrified at what might happen if I let that book fall off my head. Thankfully, my uniform's ravages calmed, somehow, and my intense fuck session had dulled to a gentle sort of rubbing sensation.

"Come with me, maids." The librarian—Carly, I guessed—said the word contemptuously as she turned and walked away to the back of the store. Her own posture was impossibly perfect, every step measured and graceful. Despite being dressed like a stripper, she looked effortlessly regal. What the fuck was even going on?

As I tried to make sense of it, my uniform bit me again, right on my clit, and it took all of my effort not to jump and throw the book off my head.

Sarah, also walking with far more deliberate poise than usual, shushed me and hissed in an urgent whisper, "Don't fuck this up. We're in deep shit if we piss this woman off. Just follow along, be quiet, and do not touch anything. Not anything at all, do you understand?"

I nearly nodded, but the weight of the book on my head was a firm reminder of the weird puppet-string thing that had happened and I really didn't want to find out what she meant. Whispering back, I said, "Yeah, yeah. I got it. I won't touch anything."

It was just as well that my uniform wouldn't let me concentrate on these strange things going on. It took all of my allowed focus just to keep that damned book on my head and still walk in my skirt and heels. It was a miracle I made it to the back of the store without falling on my face.

A pair of shelves against the back wall parted as the librarian approached, simply sliding away from one another with barely even a sound as they moved. The whole store was eerily quiet, actually, but I guessed that went in line with the whole librarian thing. Between the shelves, the wall had a slick, glassy quality and reflected dull shapes back at us. Standing to one side, the librarian gestured to the wall. Sarah curtseyed again and continued forward. The wall rippled as the other maid moved through it and vanished through the brick.

I was alone with the librarian for a moment, feeling the weight of her scrutinizing eyes on me. "You're new," she said, looking me over. She took in every detail of my appearance. My childish pigtails, probably-vacant expression, obvious arousal, and very slutty uniform before settling her eyes on my wide collar. "Go inside, Slut." Her tone carried the kind of effortless, confident authority that never went disobeyed. She was clearly someone serious. Without any frilly skirts of my own to curtsey, and not believing in my own grace enough to manage it as I was, I simply turned and followed Sarah through the strange portal, taking very tiny steps as I went.

I wished my clothes would let me focus. This all seemed rather serious.