From the Top Shelf - Brought to Book, part 2

Now for the good second part of the anonymously authored story from Kane magazine, "Brought to Book". Two girls who have been defacing library books get their just desserts. You may wish to refresh your memory by rereading part 1 first.

It was obvious that Miss Lovestock was keenly eager to get on with her appointed task of exacting retribution. Merely thinking about it gripped the woman in a sense of excitement which overwhelmed her. "Your punishment is going to be very severe," she said to the quaking girl she firmly pushed before her down to the basement,"that much I promise you!"

A quick look round and her eyes settled on several piles of discarded books, withdrawn from the shelves and now waiting, ready tied in bundles, for disposal. They were the perfect height.

"Bend over these," she instructed the trembling girl, pointing with the ruler. "Come along, come along, we haven't got all day to waste on the pair of you."

The fair-haired teenager walked to the stack of books and gingerly bent over them, but they were solid enough to take her weight. "Further over than that!" commanded Miss Lovestock. The new position exposed Millie's stockinged thighs and legs. Her mentor wasted no time in lifting the girl's skirt and tucking it under her belt. The sight that now presented itself, that of a plump submissive bottom, gave Alice Lovestock a tremendous thrill. In an uncontrollable state of desire to exert even more power over the young vandal who had ridiculed her, she lowered the girl's white nylon panties and then stood back with a gloating smile of satisfaction on her face at the thought of reddening those girlish buttocks now exposed before her.

She took up the ruler and at once brought it down on the girl's left buttock, marking it immediately with a faint red flush. She repeated the stroke on the other side and saw the ruler bring another scarlet stain to the white surface of the skin.

She watched as the girl tautened her muscles in anticipation, and then deftly applied the third stroke across the centre of both cheeks, following it quickly with a series of five or six strokes with all her force until the whole of the slim bottom was glowing with stripes. The girl cried out in pain, squirming as she adjusted to the intolerable smart of the stinging ruler. Miss Lovestock, provoked even more by her cries to a kind of madness, hit her with more force than ever, losing count of the number of strokes.

Mr. Martin put his hand on Miss Lovestock's arm and quietly counseled that enough was enough. Coming to her senses, she realised that the girl was in considerable pain and threw down the ruler saying, "Alright, my girl, you can get up now." Millie did so, pulling her knickers up and her skirt down, gulping her tears, silently owning, now that the assault on her tender bottom had stopped and the pain was subsiding to a warm tingle, that she had deserved it. Or had she? It had all been Jackie's idea! Why should she get away with just a hand spanking?

She would get even, she swore silently. Strangely, it was her friend she blamed, not the librarian or Miss Lovestock, her executioner.

Mr. Martin, having quietly viewed the whole performance, except for gently checking Miss Lovestock's enthusiasm, now said, "Right, your turn, Jackie!" He seated himself on one of the chairs that had been stored in the basement and said "Come here!"

With an uncontrollable excitement he was now eager to enjoy the sight of Jackie's bare bottom over his knee. With rare and decisive firmness, he grasped the girl's hand and tumbled her over his knees, lifting her skirt and sliding down the flimsiest pair of knickers he had seen in his life. He gave her a gentle slap, pushing her further over his knee, her head nearer the floor and her bottom raised up even more to his liking. There was no doubt about it, Jackie certainly followed her elder sister in looks. She was a Junoesque little thing. Perhaps not little, but compact, most certainly! When bottoms were handed out both Jackie and sister Heather must have been well to the front of the queue. Plump, round and firm, Jackie's backside was one that it would have been a crime not to smack! Some man, some day, was going to be very fortunate indeed!

He gazed his fill. It was a moment to savour. Then, remembering why the girl was here, her wilful, uncaring defacing of some of the world's most beautiful books, he had the strengthening resolve to really smack her, bring down his hand on that resilient flesh, and enjoy the impact of his palm on her bottom. To watch her legs as she kicked them out in the air to relieve the stinging pain.

The very thought of it brought an uncomfortable stiffness between his legs and he hoped that the lovely young girl across his knees was unaware of the growing hardness! He could no longer resist the urgent need to chastise this naughty girl so he started to slap with his open palm and, as he continued and warmed to his task, he became more and more bold. The harder slaps, tingling and painful, reduced the girl to sobbing gasps, and Mr. Martin began to bring his hand down on the luscious buttocks even more forcefully, and he was soon satisfied that the pleading girl was learning a well-deserved lesson.

He did not hesitate, though, to deliver more slaps with maximum force, smacking every part of her round, fleshy buttocks. Only when both cheeks were a burning red and seemed to give out an almost tangible heat did he pause.

Now, even though the chastisement of her delicious bottom was over , he did not let her get up, but held her down firmly with his left hand pressed into the small of her back. He looked down at the angry glowing hillocks, framed by the upturned school skirt and the little panties tangled forlornly around her twitching thighs.

Almost involuntarily his right hand caressed the exposed flesh, feeling the warmth generated by the force of his spanking. Jackie's body gave a slight shiver at his touch, and then, visibly, relaxed over his knees as if she sensed that the punishment was over and that this was by way of a sympathetic gesture, almost delivered as a token of forgiveness.

Her feeling of total shame, at being exposed, bare-bottomed, like a naughty little girl, had passed, and she was conscious of her hot and throbbing bottom, which, now that the actual stinging slaps had stopped, did not feel too unpleasant. In fact she felt quite aroused...

Jackie was almost resentful when a cough from Miss Lovestock brought home to both herself and the Chief Librarian that the punishment had ended and it was time to be stood on her feet, admonished, and dismissed after first replacing a pair of nylon panties which now felt strangely damp. She couldn't for the life of her imagine why!

Of one thing Jackie Gibbs was certain. She and Millie had behaved disgracefully. She couldn't expect Millie to agree with her; she wouldn't even ask, but she felt that tomorrow she must go and see Mr. Martin again to apologise. She would offer herself for further reparation. She was certain that she'd not been punished anywhere near enough!

* * *

Mr. Martin entered his office, closed the door, and threw the ruler back onto his desk. He felt inordinately pleased with himself and had to admit that he had enjoyed the spanking of Jackie's plump bare bottom more than he would ever admit. What's more, there was considerable visible evidence that she had enjoyed it too, despite the pain she had clearly suffered. Something told him that he would see a lot more of Jackie!

His deputy's treatment of Millie too had been wholly satisfying. She was, he felt, the nastier of the two, a wicked little thing for sure. Jackie was just impulsive and simply misguided. She was a lovely kid but clearly needed a firm hand. He remembered that the girl's mother was a widow and smiled as he contemplated how he might assist Mrs Gibbs in keeping Jackie on the straight and narrow.

He looked round his office and at the mutilated books which the delinquents had tearfully promised to replace. Now that would take a lot of their pocket money. Any lapses in their weekly installments and...! He smiled with contentment, stretched back in his chair and looked long at a framed sepia photograph of Ewen Podmore, his Victorian predecessor. Was it his imagination or did the eye above the bushy black beard wink at him?

Wasn't that a delightful holiday treat?