Oh dear... all I did was write a little post about an online library of spanking stories, and that naughty imagination of mine just ran and ran. I therefore present an account of what happened to Penelope Hasler, fifth form pupil at Birchington School, when she couldn’t resist reading a forbidden book during Library Hour...
Photo from Firm Hand Spanking – just what naughty girls need!
*****
Wednesday morning meant an hour in the school library. I should really have spent the whole hour studying my French, as we had a test coming up on Friday, but I had quickly got bored. French is silly. Très bleh.
I got up from my seat under the pretext of returning a textbook to its shelf. Once I had slipped Grammaire Française back into its rightful place I crept down the aisle and headed towards a section of the library that I knew held books of a quite different type.
There was one shelf in particular – marked NOT FOR THE USE OF PUPILS – with all manner of forbidden books on it: stories, erotic poetry, and even books with naughty pictures in them. It was to one of these picture books that I first turned. Listening out for the slightest sound of approach, I spent a delightful spell furtively savouring the taboo images within and naughtily rubbing the front of my skirt.
Soon I had grown so aroused, and felt so very wicked, that I wanted more than anything to read about spanking: about naughty girls being put across strict schoolmistresses’ laps and punished. Fingers trembling, I lifted a huge book of spanking stories from the shelf. I opened it as quietly and carefully as I could, as if to do otherwise would set off an alarm, leafed to a promising passage and began to read.
I got up from my seat under the pretext of returning a textbook to its shelf. Once I had slipped Grammaire Française back into its rightful place I crept down the aisle and headed towards a section of the library that I knew held books of a quite different type.
There was one shelf in particular – marked NOT FOR THE USE OF PUPILS – with all manner of forbidden books on it: stories, erotic poetry, and even books with naughty pictures in them. It was to one of these picture books that I first turned. Listening out for the slightest sound of approach, I spent a delightful spell furtively savouring the taboo images within and naughtily rubbing the front of my skirt.
Soon I had grown so aroused, and felt so very wicked, that I wanted more than anything to read about spanking: about naughty girls being put across strict schoolmistresses’ laps and punished. Fingers trembling, I lifted a huge book of spanking stories from the shelf. I opened it as quietly and carefully as I could, as if to do otherwise would set off an alarm, leafed to a promising passage and began to read.
The cruel Lord sped up his assault, thrashing the helpless girl’s quivering bottom fiercely. Georgina writhed and struggled in her bonds as the unforgiving crop painfully licked her again and again. Soon her soft flesh was crisscrossed by dozens of bright red streaks; her rear felt like freshly molten wax.
“Please, oh, please-–” she begged between yelps, half in appeal for mercy, half in appeal for more severity. The crop stung the backs of her thighs over and over again, turning them the same fierce shade of scarlet as her plump bottom. Lost in the moment, frenziedly desirous of the crop’s severe caress, Georgina began to anticipate the rhythm of the strokes, and moved to meet them.
She was not just thrashed from behind. When Redington was satisfied with his work there, he moved round to face her and mercilessly took the crop to her breasts. How she howled! But, just as before, the pain had an overwhelming element of pleasure to it, and the intoxicated girl began to yearn for each stroke before it landed.
I was so absorbed that I nearly jumped out of my socks when a voice from behind suddenly snapped, “Can I help you with something?”
I turned to see the Librarian, Miss Fanshawe, hands on hips, a fearsomely disapproving look in her eye.
“Um, well, you see,” I sputtered, hurriedly putting the book back on the shelf and trying to think of an excuse. “I was looking for the, um, the… Art section?”
The stern but faintly amused expression on Miss Fanshawe’s face told me that she was not in the least convinced by my attempt at evasion. She moved closer, pacing right up to where I stood, and glared down at me.
“The Art section is on the opposite side of the room, Miss Hasler.”
Already blushing with the embarrassment of being caught in a naughty act, I coloured still deeper at the inadequacy of my excuse.
“Oh... yes, Miss!” I squeaked. “Silly me. I’ll just go there now!”
“Stay where you are,” she said. “Now, you were looking at a book a moment ago. Show it to me.”
“Oh, but... it was n-nothing, Miss,” I said, my voice growing ever more like that of a little girl caught raiding the cookie jar. “I picked it up by mistake, I--”
“Show it to me.”
I pulled the book out from the shelf and held it up for her to see.
“The Bumper Book of Sexy Spanking Stories?!” she cried, snatching the volume from my hands. “Miss Hasler! Just what were you doing looking at such filth?”
“Um, well, you see, Miss...” I timidly began, my eyes now fixed on the floor. “I wanted to… to find a story about a girl who gets spanked...”
I didn’t need to look up at her face to know that the strict Librarian was thoroughly appalled at my confession. I knew that I would not get any credit for my honesty. My tummy did cartwheels as I waited for her reaction.
“I think you need to come with ME!” she cried. And she took me by the ear and marched me right through the library, past student after giggling student, and into her private room.
“So you like to read about spanking, do you?” she taunted, slamming the book down upon her desk. “Well, I’m going to give you a practical demonstration -- we’ll see just how keen you are on it then!”
She ordered me to place a chair in the centre of the room. As I shifted one of her heavy office chairs to the designated spot, she flicked through the forbidden book. Moments later she strode toward me, sat purposefully, and placed the open book on the floor beside her foot.
“Over my knee,” she commanded. I lay across her lap and found myself staring once more at the Bumper Book of Sexy Spanking Stories. It was open at the beginning of a story called ‘The Librarian and the Naughty Schoolgirl’.
I whimpered as Miss Fanshawe flipped my skirt up and ominously caressed my bottom. I had been spanked by her once before, and I knew that she spanked very hard. I bit my lip in anticipation, and silently prayed that she wouldn’t take the cane to me afterward. Every pupil in the school, after all, had heard the rumour that she liked to strip girls naked and cane them in the privacy of her office.
“Now read,” she said. “Aloud.”
I turned to see the Librarian, Miss Fanshawe, hands on hips, a fearsomely disapproving look in her eye.
“Um, well, you see,” I sputtered, hurriedly putting the book back on the shelf and trying to think of an excuse. “I was looking for the, um, the… Art section?”
The stern but faintly amused expression on Miss Fanshawe’s face told me that she was not in the least convinced by my attempt at evasion. She moved closer, pacing right up to where I stood, and glared down at me.
“The Art section is on the opposite side of the room, Miss Hasler.”
Already blushing with the embarrassment of being caught in a naughty act, I coloured still deeper at the inadequacy of my excuse.
“Oh... yes, Miss!” I squeaked. “Silly me. I’ll just go there now!”
“Stay where you are,” she said. “Now, you were looking at a book a moment ago. Show it to me.”
“Oh, but... it was n-nothing, Miss,” I said, my voice growing ever more like that of a little girl caught raiding the cookie jar. “I picked it up by mistake, I--”
“Show it to me.”
I pulled the book out from the shelf and held it up for her to see.
“The Bumper Book of Sexy Spanking Stories?!” she cried, snatching the volume from my hands. “Miss Hasler! Just what were you doing looking at such filth?”
“Um, well, you see, Miss...” I timidly began, my eyes now fixed on the floor. “I wanted to… to find a story about a girl who gets spanked...”
I didn’t need to look up at her face to know that the strict Librarian was thoroughly appalled at my confession. I knew that I would not get any credit for my honesty. My tummy did cartwheels as I waited for her reaction.
“I think you need to come with ME!” she cried. And she took me by the ear and marched me right through the library, past student after giggling student, and into her private room.
“So you like to read about spanking, do you?” she taunted, slamming the book down upon her desk. “Well, I’m going to give you a practical demonstration -- we’ll see just how keen you are on it then!”
She ordered me to place a chair in the centre of the room. As I shifted one of her heavy office chairs to the designated spot, she flicked through the forbidden book. Moments later she strode toward me, sat purposefully, and placed the open book on the floor beside her foot.
“Over my knee,” she commanded. I lay across her lap and found myself staring once more at the Bumper Book of Sexy Spanking Stories. It was open at the beginning of a story called ‘The Librarian and the Naughty Schoolgirl’.
I whimpered as Miss Fanshawe flipped my skirt up and ominously caressed my bottom. I had been spanked by her once before, and I knew that she spanked very hard. I bit my lip in anticipation, and silently prayed that she wouldn’t take the cane to me afterward. Every pupil in the school, after all, had heard the rumour that she liked to strip girls naked and cane them in the privacy of her office.
“Now read,” she said. “Aloud.”
*****
Photo from Firm Hand Spanking – just what naughty girls need!
How just and proper it is that you experience precisely the punishment the poor girl in the story suffered, and which you gloated over.
ReplyDeleteIs it irony or justice that you suffer the same fate, after you enjoyed the book so? Both, perhaps?
I can see you reading along, the librarian matching every stroke in the story with a hard SPANK accross your bouncing bottom.
"No skipping to the end, Miss Hassler. We still have 4 pages to go."
I commend the librarians actions for that is the very manner i myself would deal with a young lady who enjoyed reading spanking stories ,her education on the subject will be far more advanced if she herself is actualy spanked instead of just left to read about such matters.
ReplyDeleteCorrection Man.
Finish the fucking story!
ReplyDeleteHaha! Who said manners were a dying art?
ReplyDeleteI'm sure you'll correct me if I'm wrong, my anonymous and peremptory friend, but I rather suspect that you might be unfamiliar with the concept of the open-ended narrative. That's where a story doesn't wrap everything up in a bow like they do at the end of each Murder She Wrote, but instead leaves the reader free to imagine what happens next.
The only catch being, I suppose, that the reader needs to actually have an imagination.
Penny you will always encounter these immature obnoxious low life individuals like the ignorant fool above. He or she and i say this simply because the provoking cowardly remarks they make are from behind a computer screen were they feel safe and untouchable Normaly they are bullies who like nothing better to do than offend, provoke, and intimidate others especialy females, and in most cases these sad type of individuals foul their underpants or knickers when faced with any true danger or difficult circumstances. You have answered the individual in the correct manner not responding angrily to their remarks. If i were you i would let them post till kingdom come if they so wish and completely ignore everything they state, after all penny, it only takes you a mere minute or so to remove immature drivel
ReplyDeleteC..... M
What a fantastic short story
ReplyDelete