Wemborne Library was one of the largest in the County. Kenneth Sharp, a brisk man in his early forties, saw that it was always well stocked and efficiently run. He enjoyed books and he enjoyed his work… all the more so now that the Council were regularly sending him Trainee Librarians. They had been doing so for some eighteen months and each of these new recruits stayed for some three months before moving on to a more permanent post.
The official letter on Kenneth Sharp’s desk announced that a further Trainee would be arriving on the following day. The girl’s name was Shirley Blake, she was eighteen years old and she had gained four ‘0’ Levels at her Comprehensive, one of them in English Literature. She seemed the right type, thought the Chief Librarian. Bright, but not too bright, and with an obvious interest in literature.
He wondered whether the girl would be the right type in every sense.
That evening he must remember to put down the ‘ground bait’ as he liked to call it. Surprising how these youngsters went for it. He’d had six trainees so far (all of them girls except one) and every one of them had taken the ‘bait’. He had sent a bad report to his superiors concerning the boy but all the girls had been given good recommendations. Kenneth smiled. For none of them had got off exactly scot-free for their little misdemeanours. How strange life was. One would never have expected a County Library to provide so many opportunities for his particular predilection.
But there it was…
Before closing down that night, Kenneth Sharp opened a locked steel filing cabinet in his personal office. From it, he took a selection of books. Some of these were classics of erotica, some were mildly pornographic, some were outright pornography. Kenneth glanced at a few of the titles, 1001 Nights, The Decameron, The Outer Fringe of Sex, Chastisement Across the Ages and, getting rather more pornographic, Bizarre Sex Underground, Games Sado-Masochists Play, Sexual Fantasy, and Mistress of the Lash.
Kenneth Sharp picked up the pile and carried it into the main library area then, fetching a tall, mobile ladder, he pushed it into one corner, climbing up, he placed the books on the very top shelf. A small card marked SPECIAL INTERESTS was slipped into position.
The ‘bait’ had been laid.
Having carefully locked the Library, Kenneth Sharp made his way to the nearest bus stop, the first stage of his journey to a semi-detached in the outskirts of Wemborne. He would not, however go directly home but spend from half an hour to an hour in a local pub. There was no need to hurry back. His wife Gertie, two years older than himself and now embittered and unattractive, had her own interests. They mainly consisted of gossiping with neighbours in her own home or in theirs.
The marriage might now be best described as loveless. So it was natural enough for Kenneth Sharp to turn elsewhere for a little light relief.
Shirley Blake got off to a bad start. She had the temerity to turn up on her first day wearing a thin, white jumper and a pair of faded blue jeans. Also having knocked on the Chief Librarian’s door, she entered before he had had time to answer. That irritated Kenneth almost as much as the girl’s sloppy garb. What on earth were kids coming to!
He had just time to notice a pair of brown eyes, dark hair, neat apple-round breasts under the sweater — and a cheeky look and manner — before dressing the girl down.
‘Surely you don’t imagine, Miss Blake,’ he said, ‘that the Library would permit such a slapdash style of dressing.’ By the Library, he meant himself. He was the Library.
‘I didn’t think it would matter. Just a bit casual, maybe,’ came the answer. Yes, the girl definitely was cheeky. She did not look the slightest bit abashed by his words.
‘Well, it does matter, Miss Blake. The people who come in here expect us to keep certain standards. So we do…’
‘I thought it’d be OK. Me going up ladders with books and that. Well… trousers seemed best, you know…’
Kenneth did know but he wasn’t going to admit it. He’d had some nice views in the past and he wasn’t going to start missing them now. ‘Miss Blake,’ he said acidly, ‘I do not mind what you do in your spare time but here you will wear a dress. Do I make myself clear?’
‘Cor… well… yes, I suppose so.’ Shirley looked a shade nonplussed. ‘Have to get mum to buy them for me, won’t I?’
‘If you haven’t got such an outfit… yes,’ nodded Kenneth. ‘Now, Miss Blake, go home and explain to your mother about this. Get a proper outfit and then return here. As this is your first day here, I shall not report this matter to the Council.’
Shirley Blake shrugged. Her attitude seemed to indicate that she did not care a very great deal whether she was reported to the Council or not. ‘Alright then, I’ll be off,’ she said brightly. It had just occurred to her that they had started to pay her and already she was getting a free day off!
On the following day, Shirley came bouncing into Kenneth’s office again. ‘Miss Blake,’ he said, ‘you will kindly wait until I give permission to enter my office.’
‘Sorry,’ she said. Not looking in the least bit sorry. ‘Like it?’ she asked.
Kenneth did like it, but he wasn’t going to say so. ‘That is far more suitable,’ was all he said. However, he noted two things which pleased him greatly. The girl’s blue and white flowered dress was quite short — an inch or two above her knees — and instead of wearing socks she had on stockings. They gave her a charming grown-up air.
‘Cost mum a bomb,’ said Shirley.
‘That can’t be helped,’ replied Kenneth primly. For a moment he felt rather like a schoolmaster. It was a nice idea. In fact, Kenneth quite often fantasised about running a girls’ school. Pity he didn’t have the qualifications.
‘Now, Miss Blake,’ he went on, ‘I believe your Christian name is Shirley. Do you mind if I call you that?’
‘No, that’s OK. What shall I call you?’
‘Oh, just sir, or Mr Sharp…’
‘Very well, sir’ she said. The emphasis was, thought Kenneth, deliberately derogatory.
‘I shall now show you around our Library,’ said Kenneth, rising from behind his desk. ‘You will see that books are placed in various categories. So, as books are returned by borrowers, you will replace them under those categories. That will be your first job here. Later on you will go on to other duties. Follow me, please.’
Out they went together into the main area and Kenneth began to point to the various sections as they passed, with Shirley glancing up at them casually… History; Travel; Adventure; Classics; Fiction and so on and on. Finally, they were approaching the ‘bait’. Kenneth coughed decorously. ‘Er, Shirley,’ he said, pointing up to the very top of the bookcase, ‘there is a section up there called SPECIAL INTERESTS. That is a section you will not concern yourself with.’
‘Why’s that, sir?’
‘It doesn’t matter why, Shirley,’ he retorted. ‘Just do as I say, there’s a good girl.’
‘OK, it’s your Library…’
‘It’s not my Library, Shirley, it belongs to the Council. I just see that the rules are obeyed. If anybody ever comes in and asks for something from that section — or they may say ‘from off the top shelf’ — just call me and I’ll deal with them.’
‘OK, I’ve got it.’ Kenneth saw the girl looking up with added interest to that top shelf. Little doubt that the ‘bait’ would be taken before long!
‘Very well then… we’ll be officially open in ten minutes,’ said Kenneth. ‘Come to my office if you have any questions or any difficulties. I’m here to help.’ He turned on his heel and made his way to the back of the Library.
If he had happened to turn and look back he would have seen young Shirley sticking out her tongue and putting a thumb to her nose.
Kenneth Sharp did not go out into the main library in the morning but he made a couple of sorties during the afternoon. Both were rewarding.
First, moving silently on rubber-soled shoes, he came across Shirley down on her hands and knees sorting out some books on the floor. It was a most unethical method but Kenneth was prepared to overlook that under the circumstances… those circumstances being that the girl’s short skirt had ridden up so high that he could see virtually all of the back of her strong, young thighs and, right at the top, the tiny white V of her knickers. Very fetching. So innocent.
But was it so innocent? You never quite knew with some of these kids. They could lead a man on. Frankly, in the last eighteen months, Kenneth had been amazed to discover how brazen some of them could be.
Reluctantly Kenneth had moved away when some patron of the Library came around the corner. ‘Good afternoon, Mrs Montgomery…’ As usual the old bag was carrying a pile of romances.
‘Good afternoon, Mr Sharp.’ The battle-axe moved on, giving an indignant snort at the spectacle of Shirley’s immodest posture. Kenneth beat a fairly hasty retreat to the seclusion of his office. Once there, he opened a drawer and resumed reading a paperback entitled Sex Power for the Over-Forties.
Kenneth made his second sortie about an hour later. This time, much to his satisfaction, he came across young Shirley high up on one of the mobile ladders. Cautiously he moved along the row between the shelves. He obviously didn’t want the girl to see him… but this was too good an opportunity to pass up.
Scarcely breathing, he stood at last almost directly beneath the ladder. A quick glance along the row to see that no one was about, then Kenneth looked up. Shirley was standing with feet about six inches apart, so that he was favoured with an open view of her from ankles to crotch. Oh delightful! The white knickers were clinging so tight that little was left to the imagination. The lower part of the tautly-rounded buttock-cheeks were bare… soft and creamy-looking. Oh delightful! Very fetching! So innocent!
But was it so innocent?
At that moment, one of the books Shirley was slipping back on the bookshelf, fell from her grasp. Even though Kenneth was quick to dodge, it caught him on the back of his head. Quite painfully. It was, he saw, as it thudded to the floor. quite a large volume. Rather naturally, he didn’t stay to make a protest or rebuke the girl for such carelessness. Another scuttle back to his office seemed the wisest course.
Once more, Sex Power for the Over-Forties began to absorb Kenneth Sharp’s attention. But all the time. in his mind’s eye. he could still see those young limbs and the tight knickers scantily covering a ripe bottom.
The Assistant Librarian (not a trainee) was given permission to leave half an hour early. Her mother, as usual, was poorly. Kenneth Sharp prepared himself for the big moment of the day. Usually he waited a week or so but, on this occasion, he sensed it would pay dividends to strike early.
Banging his office door, he called into the main library, ‘I’m going out for ten minutes, Shirley, look after things will you?’
‘OK, sir…’ came a distant response.
Out he went through the swing doors, then down the High Street. There he had a five minute chat with the local newsagent before returning to the library, entering by a side door which led directly into his office. Then, once more, he opened his office door but this time he closed it very softly.
A glance down the appropriate aisle told him how right he had been about this new arrival. She had indeed taken the ‘bait’ early… for there was Shirley, at the top of a ladder again, closely absorbed in one of the forbidden books. Kenneth gumshoed along. Such was her concentration, she certainly did not hear or see him. Once more he stood directly beneath her. Oh delightful!
A minute ticked away…
‘Shirley! What on earth do you think you’re doing?’
A startled shriek and the girl’s hands flew up. She almost fell as a book plummeted down. This time there was no doubt she had dropped it accidentally. Kenneth stooped and picked it up. He couldn’t help smiling. It’s title was Chastisement Across the Ages.
Shirley was coming fast down the ladder. ‘Oh… you shouldn’t have… you scared me… coming in like that…’
‘Come into my office, Shirley. Immediately!’
‘…you’re an old devil, you are! Looking up girl’s dresses. I know your sort!’
So it hadn’t been an accident, thought Kenneth. He had been right to suspect. Not that it made any difference. ‘Come into my office,’ he repeated, turning on his heel and striding away. Would she follow; or would she just run off? One never could be quite sure. But it was amazing how many of them did follow. Were they scared… curious, or just plain stupid? Perhaps it was because they were so young and relatively inexperienced, they did as an adult ordered. Rather like school children obeying a master or mistress.
Placing the book on his desk, Kenneth had a few anxious moments. Then Shirley Blake entered in her bouncy way with a petulant, pouting look on her cheeky little face. ‘So… what you going to do about it, then?’ she asked straight away.
‘I’m considering,’ replied Kenneth. He was not used to these youngsters taking the initiative. ‘I don’t suppose your mother would like to hear that you have been sacked on your first day for reading dirty books.’
The girl made a face but Kenneth could see that his threat had struck home. She blustered it out, though.
‘Dirty books, are they? Then what are they doing in the library?’
‘I used the phrase in a colloquial sense, Shirley,’ answered Kenneth. ‘That is how most grown-ups refer to them, even if they are not actually dirty. Certainly not some of the Classics. However, they are not for children of your age.’
‘Children?’ Shirley looked askance at such a classification. Obviously she considered herself grown-up.
‘You are still legally a child,’ said Kenneth. He felt he was not gaining the upper hand as fast as he might.
Those brown eyes hardened. ‘You was looking up my dress this afternoon,’ said Shirley. ‘Dirty old man…’
‘Don’t you dare speak to me like that?’ Kenneth felt himself beginning to flush. Damn it! ‘I may have passed down the aisle when you were up a ladder…’
Shirley looked scornful. ‘May have!’ He thought for a moment she was going to laugh at him… and he was getting angry. He raised the book.
‘You’re interested in chastisement, are you Shirley?’
Now it was the girl’s turn to flush. ‘Not particular,’ she answered.
‘In my view, it is what you need!’ There it was, out in the open.
Shirley said nothing. He saw her eyeing him with a cautious curiosity. ‘In fact,’ he went on rather hurriedly, ‘it may be the answer in this case.’ He paused, coughed. ‘Yes… some form of chastisement. Then we can forget the matter. Your mother won’t know; nor will this be reported to the Council. Isn’t that best?’
Shirley said nothing but she was beginning to look cheeky again. Then she gave a short, harsh little laugh. ‘You want to smack my bottom… you dirty old man!’
It was true; he couldn’t deny it. Kenneth found himself flushing again. ‘Only because you deserve it, young woman,’ he responded, trying to regain the initiative. Again came that short harsh laugh.
‘First time I saw you,’ she said, ‘I thought you might… might be…that way. Don’t know why, but I did…’
This girl has knowledge and understanding beyond her years, said Kenneth to himself. She was aware that he had engineered all this. That he wanted to smack her bottom out of sheer lechery. All the others had been so scared of what might happen they had thankfully accepted a spanking as a way out. This was a different kettle of fish. No less interesting for that!
‘Shirley,’ he said, as formally as he could. ‘I am offering you an alternative. Either instant dismissal… and disgrace… or private chastisement in this office. No one else will ever know…’
‘I bet they won’t’ replied Shirley with a half sneer. Then she stepped towards his desk. ‘Alright, you old perv, go ahead. Smack my bottom… if that’s what turns you on.’
And with that, the girl yanked up her dress and pushed down her knickers.
Kenneth found a lightweight, soft, young body lying across his thighs. Before him was a nicely-rounded bum. Bare as bare. Lovely! An exquisite shaft of pure lust darted through him. He wanted his hands to explore, his fingers to probe.
Somehow, Kenneth held back.
There were more important matters to attend to first. He gripped Shirley’s slim waist. How childlike she felt! He touched the delicate flesh of that delicious bottom. Saw it flinch and twist.
‘Get on with it… you dirty bastard…’
Anger suddenly raged through Kenneth. What right had this little minx to address him so? To treat him so?
Every right, of course.
But that did not make it any easier to bear. Kenneth began to smack the rounded bottom before him hard and furiously. He didn’t care where the slaps fell… he just wanted to go on slapping and slapping. To teach this saucy little bitch a proper lesson.
Kenneth Sharp really went at it. He reckoned he was slapping harder than he’d ever slapped a girl’s bottom before. Because he really wanted to. Because this arrogant little cow had asked for it. She’d tried to send him up. Take him over. Now she was learning that didn’t pay!
Kenneth went on slapping and slapping. Loving it. Exulting in it, almost. How superb to smack an 18-year-old’s bottom just as hard as you like!
Then, he realised suddenly, the girl was showing remarkable toughness. Though she was bouncing about all over his thighs, she was doing no more than gasping out and intermittently swearing at him.
‘Ahh… beast… oooh… beast… aahh… you bastard… ooo… ooo… you’re… aaahhha filthy sod… ooohh… aaaghh… oooh… you pig… ohh… I hate you…’
On and on it went… and on and on went Kenneth’s smacking. Shirley’s white bottom changed to a deep red colour. All over. Kenneth’s hand was burning furiously. His heart was pounding, his throat dry. This was, he thought, the spanking of all time. He was really giving it to her.
And loving it… loving it!
‘Stooppp… aaahh stooo…opp… that’s e-enough… aaagghh… stoo…oopp!’ The cries were plaintive. Desperate. Kenneth’s hand was ablaze, his arm was weakening. He was panting, head swimming. Yes, time to stop.
He bent forward, head slumping, breath rasping. He felt the hard thrust of himself into the softness of young Shirley. My God, what an experience. He’d never known anything quite like it before.
‘You wicked old man…’
‘H-huhh… haa… I’m not o-old… I’m not… hhuuhhh…’
‘You’re just an old windbag. And a pervert. Likes girls’ bottoms, doesn’t he?’
‘Stop it… stop it, Shirley… you can’t talk to me like this!’
‘I can talk to you how I like, you old slob. I’ve got you now… and I’m going to make you pay. If I take this arse round to my mum, what do you think she’s going to say? And what are you going to tell the men in blue, eh, answer me that, you perv!’
Kenneth Sharp felt suddenly frightened. This had never happened to him before. It was they who had been scared. This kid was something else.
‘You wouldn’t do that, Shirley,’ he said feebly.
‘Think of all the fuss… the scandal…’
‘You think about it, you perv!’
Kenneth did… and he sweated. ‘I’ll make it up to you, Shirley. Really. Then we need say no more about it.’ He saw the girl smirking. She knew she had him in her power.
‘Thirty quid a week extra. In cash,’ she said. ‘All the time I’m here.’
Kenneth sweated more. That would more than double her trainee salary… and it would have to come out of his own pocket. Lucky he was a careful man with considerable savings. ‘Alright,’ he nodded. ‘I agree…’
Shirley came closer. She pressed herself to the hardness which still remained with him, despite the scare he’d had. ‘And another thirty quid extra any time you want to make use of my bottom,’ she said, still smirking at him. Kenneth’s lust flared. My God, this kid knew his weakness alright! ‘You can start now. I’ll take a cheque.’
Kenneth sat down at his desk and wrote a cheque. He knew the danger of that but he was in so deep now it made no difference. His hand trembled a little as he passed it over and he watched the girl examine the cheque carefully before she stuffed it into her dress. It had been worth every penny to give her a spanking like that, he thought. And so it would be in the future.
‘You’re making sense, Daddio,’ said Shirley. She came around the desk and stood closer to Kenneth. He was terribly aware that she still had no knickers on and the desire to put his hand on her burning bottom was almost irresistible. Doubtless Shirley sensed it. ‘You got any cold cream in that desk, sir?’ she asked, grinning.
Kenneth had; he’d used it before. ‘Yes…’ he said hoarsely.
Shirley lifted her dress and turned. Those tautly-rounded buttock-cheeks were now the colour of a Turner sunset.
‘Then make use of it, sir,’ she said.