Three simple rules
By Jacqueline Applebee
There are just three simple rules in this library – no eating, no drinking, and no mobile phones. Three rules, one librarian suffering with sore tired feet at the end of a long evening… it was bound to end in trouble.
Everyone knows what I expect, and I never get any bother – there are no disturbances to the quiet, save the sound of the library stamp pounding into the books. I keep a well run establishment, solely because of my three simple rules – well that and the fact that I enforce them with a rod of steel. I expect everyone to obey these regulations, and they almost always do, but I've come to the conclusion, that there will always be an exception.
The thin blonde man looked like he had just stepped out of a bank – not your ordinary high street bank mind you. No this guy looked like old money, financial institutions, and stocks and shares bollocks. He was an older gentleman, clean-shaven, refined, and he looked guilty as hell. I had spotted his furtive movements a few minutes ago – I saw him pop something into his mouth, and when he caught sight of me, he hastily tried to swallow. It was too late - I had my man. My strong hand curled around the crisp fabric of his suit, and I felt him stiffen beneath me. He must have known that it was pointless to struggle. The ones that come in here aren't stupid. I took a brief glimpse up at the other readers, and they quickly averted their gaze. I saw the way their eyes lowered, and how they gripped their reference books with shaking hands. These are the smart ones – they know how to behave in my library. They know how to stay out of trouble.
I pulled the now-whimpering man to my side office, but I didn't close the door – I didn't want to leave my readers alone for too long, and besides, I wanted everyone to see what happened, when they disobeyed the three simple rules in my library.
As soon as I crossed the threshold, my hands tugged at his expensive leather belt, using the momentum to draw him into the room. His smart blue pinstriped trousers came down in smooth folds – fine quality wool and silk will do that for you. His boxer shorts were blue too, with little paisley swirls dotted all over. He smelled of old-fashioned cologne, and cherry sweets – guilty sod.
"Up against the desk mate."
"Believe me miss, but I wasn’t doing…”
Ooh, he spoke like a merchant banker too. Nice. However, his voice was cut off by the first slap that landed on his skinny backside. The resounding crack made him shake, and he gripped the desk with white knuckles. I landed another stroke, and was answered by a sharp yelping sound. He seemed surprised, which was plain stupid – what did he expect when I brought him in here? What did he think was going to happen when he disobeyed one of my rules?
I struck him on the top of his bare thighs, and he breathed through it. This banker showed potential. Another slap landed, and he grunted out a strange sound. He was biting his lip, trying to keep his composure – I was having none of that.
"Count 'em!" I barked, making him jerk with the harshness of my voice, but he remained silent. I slapped his ass once more, but I didn't say anything either – I'm not one for repeating myself.
"Now just wait one moment, young lady," he spat.
I spanked him even harder, almost pushing him over with the force of my hand.
"I know you," I whispered in his burning ear. "I know what you are – what you like to do, what you like to feel. It's your nature mate, and this," I walloped him with all of my considerable strength. "This is mine." I spanked him once more, and the desk shunted across the floor. "So what's it to be?"
I silently counted to five before the next words left his mouth.
"One," he whispered.
"Not good enough. You're fooling no-one with your pathetic act," my self-satisfied smile came out with my words. Did he think I was stupid?
"One mistress," he croaked, and I froze, hand raised, mouth open with disbelief – just when I thought I was getting somewhere. This guy was a special kind of stupid. I reached over, and grabbed a fistful of his blonde hair. I angled his face until his shining blue eyes met mine.
"I aint your mistress," I snarled, and his eyes went wider, almost bluer if that was even possible, but then fear always looks pretty on men like him. I smacked his head against the wooden surface of my desk, with a clonk, and returned to his warming backside. This time, when my hand landed on his rear, he was in a more respectful mood.
I smiled, and spanked him again.
This was more like it. I continued my onslaught, spanking the man until my palm began to get red and sore. Still, I knew it wasn't hurting me, as much as it hurt him. By the time I got to twenty, he was thrusting up against the edge of the desk – if he so much as got a drop of come on it, I would flay him alive. With that said, I was getting tired of standing – it had been a long evening, and eternal vigilance in the library plays havoc on your feet. As soon as I got home, these shoes were going in the bin.
I slid both hands beneath the elastic of his now-sweaty boxers, feeling the heat of his spanked skin beneath mine. A little push was all it took to sweep the fabric down to his ankles, so they lay atop his crumpled trousers. He murmured, wriggled a little, and arched himself up, trying to grind against me. A firm hand on his spine soon stopped him, and I directed us both to my high backed chair, behind the desk.
Once I was settled in the chair, I pulled the banker over my knee, and even from above, I could see his delighted face crinkle with a wide smile. Let's see how long that smile lasts…
I said before, how I ruled this library with a rod of steel. Well, I guess he never saw me pick up my metal ruler – it is a lovely stainless steel number, light as a feather, and it burns like a red-hot knife. It made a lovely noise as it swung through the air, before I smacked it against his backside. The banker's yell made me grin – I glanced up, and out of the door, to the rest of the library. A few readers had looked up at the noise, and they stared for a moment, with terror making their faces blanch.
"Did I tell you to stop counting?" I slapped him with the ruler once more.
"Bloody hell!" He sounded as common as I, with that exclamation, and I inwardly smiled.
"Bloody hell isn't a number – now start counting, from one."
"I don't think…" He was squirming beneath my hand, desperately trying to wriggle away, but I was having far too much fun, to let him go just yet.
"Good, keep not thinking. Just make with the counting."
He hissed, and swore under his breath once more, but I'll give him his dues, he started counting again.
"No eating in my library."
"No drinking in my library."
"And no mobile phones in my library!"
"Ah, yes, four librarian." He was humping my legs as he counted, alternately rubbing, and then flinching against me. This is what I was waiting for – the loss of pride, the descent into needy desperation. A little bit of pleasure, for so much pain – he loved it.
There's something that happens to me, when I do this. Something sparks within, as I get into a rhythm, and slowly the feeling catches alight. I felt the power I held there and then. The Merchant Banker was probably twice my age, probably earned three times what I did, and he was still less than nothing. Every stinging burn he felt was down to me, every bounce of his hardening dick, was my doing. I owned his sorry backside.
I slapped him with a quick flurry of fiery blows, and he sucked it all up. A series of bright red lines appeared over his skin – a pretty pattern, which he would hopefully feel for days. He better had learnt his lesson now – I've got other things to do in the library, than beat a merchant banker all night long.
And with that, I pushed him off my knees, with a rough shove, so that he fell to the floor, and landed at my feet in an undignified mess. He didn't look like a banker now – his blonde hair was in his eyes, his face was flushed, and his dick was standing to attention. He gazed up at me shyly, and stood awkwardly. I'll give him points for optimism.
I reached out my ruler, and tapped his throbbing dick, weighing it on the length of cruel metal. He froze, and looked unsure of what I was going to do next. A quick slap of the ruler against the head of his cock, made him hop onto tiptoes. I filed away that image, then withdrew, and reached into a drawer. I produced a special rubber stamp, which I kept for occasions just like this. I dipped it into my permanent ink pad, and then pressed it onto his backside. The words "Property of the Library Service" lay there in red letters.
"Obey the rules, and I'll think about it."
He grinned a sly toothy grin at me, and then pulled up his pants.
The merchant banker went back to the reading area, and the library returned to how it should be. I kicked off my excruciatingly painful high heels, and flexed my toes. It really had been a long night, but I was glad that the library was now silent once more - a place for quiet learning and education. The hush surrounded me, and I calmed myself, breathing in a deep cleansing breath. Everything was tranquil – wonderful even. So imagine my surprise, when the shrill ringing of a mobile phone rang out, and the same merchant banker dove for his coat…