This is the rough cut of a story I wrote at the end of March. I wrote about a thousand words of a second meeting between the characters today, and figured I might as well post this one as part of an incentive to myself to finish the other. Enjoy!
He watched hungrily as she entered the library. Through the stacks she wound, and he would lose sight of her as she ducked down one narrow hallway defined by the bookshelves or another. She stopped, most of the way to the far wall from his office, and he mentally calculated the distance. When it lined up, he smiled, and went back to his work.
After fifteen minutes, when he hadn't seen her come back out, he decided to take a careful stroll. He didn't have to ask what section she was is -one of the libraries best-kept secrets was the vast selection of pornography it kept tucked away on the fourth floor. So few people came up here, and fewer still actually bothered to look past the more mundane books they needed for class.
He stopped, three shelves away, and paused, holding himself completely still. He smiled as the image of a wolf flashed into his mind -his silent tread and predatory stance would make Tex Avery proud. He only hoped that the curvy girl he had spotted was amicable to being his prey.
As he listened, he heard the whisper of clothing moving over skin, a skirt being pulled up or a blouse pulled down. The girl was quiet as she worked, but her breathing was audible, and delicious --the occasional slight gasp punctuated breathes deep enough to make any bosom heave. If he listened hard enough, he could even hear the occasional slick noise as her fingers worked over her cunt.
He waited until the breathing took on an increased franticness and walked down the aisle to face her. She was turned slightly away, leaning against the closer set of shelves. Her eyes were half closed, an open book of fifties pin-ups lay gently discarded next to her. Whatever fantasy had her in its grips, it had to be a lovely one --he almost let her have her orgasm.
"And what's a pretty girl like you doing inside on a beautiful day like this?" She jumped, and her hand shot out from under her skirt like a flash. There was the faintest wet sheen on her fingers, and it took far too much willpower to not lean down and suck her fingers into his mouth, cleaning her of the fluid.
"I, I'm so sorry s-sir, gods, I didn't mean, I just got overwhelmed and it was so nice and I thought I was alone up here and didn't think anyo-"
"Shh." he said, in his best authoritative librarian voice. Her babbling cut off sharply, and he granted her the slightest turning up of the lips. "Good girl. Now then... whatever am I going to do with you?"
"Oh please, I didn't mean to cause any trouble! Don't get me expelled, please!" She looked as though she was about to cry, and he chuckled softly.
"Expel you for what? Reading a book? No, it's not university policy to punish students for taking advantage of the resources provided." He leaned over and carefully picked up the book, watching out of the corner of his eye as she visibly relaxed. "However, treating the books badly is certainly going to be a problem for you." He snapped the book shut, and shelved it in its proper place reverently. "I think I'll have to give you a proper warning, talk to public safety. And of course, I'll need to speak to your advisor about such naughty behaviour."
She shivered, and shook her head. "I didn't mean to! I normally treat books much better, oh please, I just dropped it, I got..." she hesitated, and he smiled. He had been careful not to directly mention her exhibition, there was such a thrill to a woman coming to the conclusion that she'd been bad all on her own.
"Yes?" he prompted, and was rewarded by a generous blush across the girl's face and chest. She had the delightful sort of fair complexion that marks easily, be it blush or bruise, and a generous sprinkle of freckles. Her sundress was a green that brought out her eyes, and was cut low enough that he was getting a delightful eyeful, standing above her as he was.
"I..." she looked up at him, and he gave his softest smile, the one that offered comfort rather than reproach. A nervous swallow, and her mind seemed to be made up. "I was looking at the pin-ups and got distracted. I really didn't think anyone was up here."
"Hmm, so distracted you had to frig yourself immediately?" Her blush deepened, and he patted her on the shoulder. "Relax. I'm not going to report you to your advisor or security for such." Her muscles started to relax, and he smiled, his favourite hunting smile. "I much prefer to take the discipline for such matters into my own hands."
She absolutely froze at that, her eyes wide and frightened. He patted her shoulder once more, and began to slowly walk back to his office. "I leave it up to you. My office is across from the stairs if you feel you've done anything worthy of punishment. Regardless of what you decide, I'd appreciate that you keep your hands out of your pants while you're in my library. At least, without specific permission." He walked the rest of the way down the hall, and casually shut the door.
Five minutes later, she knocked. Gods, how he loved this job!
When she had knocked on the door, it had taken all his strength not to leap for the handle, and haul her inside. Wicked glee would scare her off faster than contempt, and she was far too pretty to do such a cruel thing to. Instead, he finished writing down the proposal he was working on, carefully shut the laptop, and only after a moment's reflection, rose to open the door.
She was standing there, trembling slightly, and not daring to look up into his eyes. "I want to apologize, sir." she said, biting her lower lip. "I didn't mean to treat your books or your library with such disrespect."
"Apologies are mere words." This was the hard part, the part which required all the delicacy he required. "I cannot be expected to believe you are truly sorry without some form of... reparations." The pause was deliberate, should she be offended, she could easily take it as monetary.
And should she be intrigued, she could just as easily take it as it was meant to be taken.
"I...I think I understand, sir." she whimpered. "I must be punished for my naughtiness, to keep from ever doing such again." She looked up at him then, and a note of frightened strength came into her voice. "I have been a bad girl, and submit to your punishment."
He schooled himself to keep his face straight at the overwrought dramatics. The girl was certainly earnest, and probably had no concept of how ridiculous she appeared, a strawberry blonde in a sundress parroting the words made cliche by the world of black leather and latex. He opened the door further, and beckoned her in. His office was cramped, true, but he wasn't about to show her the library archives or the learning lab, not yet.
"What's your name?" His tone was conversant as he shut the door and dropped the blinds. Later, he would spank her with the blinds open, her facing across the hall to the stairway to see anyone else who came upstairs. He could beat her with the door open, warning her not to let her screams echo too loud lest she be discovered...he shook his head away from the train of thought, and smiled.
"I'm Lana. Lana Cole." she said softly, unsure of whether she should be acting submissive or friendly. He extended a hand, and she shook it nervously.
"My name is Mr. Hoffmann." he said simply. "And I do with I could say it was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Cole, but I'm afraid that's simply not yet true. It is never a pleasure to meet someone disrespectful of the book." She shivered, and nodded in agreement.
He moved his laptop, and a few stray papers off the desk, leaving it clear. "I'd like you to bend over, and rest your forearms there please." He pulled the chair aside, and waited.
She hesitated, studying him. He made no motion in that time, letting her decide all by herself whether he was dangerous and this was crazy. Ever so slowly, she took a step closer, and bent over.
His desk was specifically a few inches shorter than the norm, it caused her ass to rise in the air, and her sundress to pull up dangerously. She had a large ass, round and smooth and simply beautiful. He flipped the sundress over her back, exposing light purple panties that covered less than they revealed, and paused.
She flinched, but it was no more than reflexive reaction at the movement. Her feet and elbows stayed firmly planted, and he let a smile creep across his face. Inexperienced or not, she knew what she was doing.
"Miss Lana Cole, please state your crime."
He couldn't see the blush across her face, but he knew it must be there by the way she squirmed. "I...I am guilty of treating books with disrespect," she whimpered.
He set a casual hand on her ass, marveling at the delicious feel of the curve under his hand. "And?"
"And?" There was impertinence in her voice and that would not stand. He grabbed her hair suddenly, jerking her head back so that he could glare at her. She yelped, and started to move to fight him, but came to her senses, and pressed her arms back to the desk. "Good." he hissed, as she stopped moving. "And your other crime?"
"F-for masturbating." she stammered, her face scrunched against the pain. He released her hair, and her head snapped back forward, resting against the desk.
"That is correct." he said cooly, and without any warning at all, spanked her right in the center of her right ass cheek. The red mark blossomed in an instant, and he smiled. He had always loved girls who marked easily.
The next four smacks fell in a tight cluster around the first, and the pink in the center blossomed into a hurt red. She whimpered at each strike, and as she took a deep breath, he could hear the ragged edge of tears.
Switching to the other side, he gave her another four strikes, circling the left buttock. "I trust you will not behave in such an unseemly manner again, Miss Cole?" She nodded emphatically, and started to rise.
A hand firmly on her back, and he pressed her back into the desk. The last smack was the hardest he had dared on her virgin bum, and he was pleased to hear a moan escape her lips as the pain blossomed. He waited until she stopped trembling, before removing the hand from her back, and opening the door.
"You may leave now, Miss Lana," he said simply, "I have work that must be done."
Her mouth opened in protest, and he gave her a stern look. It snapped shut again, and she walked out the door, squirming slightly as she got used to walking with the pain. She turned at the door, perhaps to object to the lack of closure, beg for a release from how turned on she had clearly become.
His only response to her unasked question was to open his laptop, and resume work. With the faintest whimper, she turned, and walked out of his office and down the stairs.
He was looking forward to her return.