As Abigail gazed in wonder at the gigantic library, she had to pinch herself once again to prove to herself that she wasn't dreaming. It was all real!
Abigail had been dating Wesley for a little over a year, and today was the day she'd been introduced to his parents. She had known for some time that they had quite a lot of money, but she hadn't realized just how rich they were until Wesley's old BMW pulled up in front of the mansion. The building was enormous! And not some decrepit old ruin – it was well-maintained, richly decorated, with a lovely garden. She'd shivered in her cheap charity shop dress, wondering how exactly they'd receive her. Would they think their son was wasting his time dating someone like her?
To her immense relief, his parents had been extremely nice. They'd received her with friendly smiles and made her feel welcome. His mother had complimented her on her hair and nails, and then listened intently as Abigail talked about life at the college, and when she mentioned that she was an avid reader, his father had told her that she was free to borrow some books from their library if she wanted. As many as she wished, in fact.
Wesley and his father were chatting in the lounge over a cup of tea while Abigail went to explore the library. Her eyes widened as she entered the room. It was massive! Shelves upon shelves of books, and several of them were centuries old. She found old classics, personal favourites, rarities, and books she'd never even heard of!
She'd already picked out quite a large stack of novels she intended to take home, when she spotted a copy of "Through the Looking-Glass" high up on a shelf. She stared. It looked so old – it couldn't be an original print, could it? She looked around for the ladder, but couldn't see it. In a room this big, it was easy to get lost. Searching for another solution, she spotted an armless wooden chair, which she immediately placed under the book. However, even standing on it, her petite form was far too short to reach the novel. Stepping down, she glanced over at the large stack of books she'd already picked out, looked back up at her prize, and placed the stack on the seat of the chair. By standing on tiptoes, she just barely managed to reach the volume, tipping it into her hand. "Success!" she exclaimed.
That's when she felt the stack wobble under her feet. To her horror, she could feel it toppling.
As she started to tumble towards the floor, Abigail shrieked. The stack had been high, and she knew that landing headfirst on the hard floor was unlikely to end well. Time seemed to slow down, and she watched the shelves inch past as she fell. At the back of her mind, she wondered whether her boyfriend or his parents would find her first. She gasped as she struck something, then frowned. She'd landed on her side instead of her head, and she hadn't fallen as far as she'd been prepared for; the floor was a lot closer than she'd expected. Softer, too.
"Are you OK?" Wesley's voice was full of worry. Glancing up, she realized that he'd caught her as she fell. Nestled in his arms, she reflected on just how worried she'd been when the stack started to topple, and she buried her face in his chest, a tear rolling down her cheek. "Abigail, are you OK?"
"Thank you," she murmured from the depths of his shirt.
"I came to see how you were doing. I arrived just as the books started to shift - fortunately, I managed to get to you in time. Are you OK?" he repeated again. "Are you hurt?"
She looked up at him. "I'm fine!" she assured him. "You can put me down now."
He lowered her gently until her feet touched the floor, eventually letting go of her. "You're sure you're OK? You're not hurt in any way?" When she nodded, the worry on his face was replaced with a stern frown. "Good. Now, explain yourself, young lady. What in the world made you decide to do something like that?"
She looked at the novel in her hand. "I wanted a closer look at this," she explained.
"We have ladders for that," he said, clearly trying hard to keep his voice calm.
"Yeah, but I couldn't find one."
His frown deepened. "So instead of searching a little bit harder, or asking for help, you decided to risk life and limb by making a large pile of books, placing it on a chair, and standing on it?"
Now that he said it out loud, it suddenly didn't sound like such a good idea after all. Her backside began to tingle, and she had a horrible feeling that she was going to find herself over his knee once they were back at the flat. She managed to resist the urge to rub her rear; if he wasn't already planning to spank her, she certainly didn't want to give him ideas.
"Are you calling me heavy?" she said, glaring at him. She instantly regretted it – he glared back at her, and he was a lot better at it than she was. She wanted to run away and hide.
"Don't try to play word games, little girl. You are in enough trouble as it is." He cleared the rest of the books from the chair, placed them on the table, and sat down. "Come here, Abigail," he said, patting his lap.
She stared at him in horror. "Here? Now?" she squeaked. She'd been right about the spanking, it seemed – but wrong about the time and location. "You can't! They'll hear!" She glanced at the door as if expecting his parents to be standing in the hallway, pressing their ears to the wood. What would his parents think of her if they knew that their son sometimes pulled her panties down and spanked her like a little girl?
"My parents are out at the lacrosse court – too far away to hear anything." He patted his lap again. "Now come here, Abigail."
She inched closer to him. Spankings were always terrible, but she knew better than to disobey when he ordered her over his lap. When she finally came close enough, he lifted the hem of her cute dress, pulling her panties down to her knees. She had tears of humiliation in her eyes as he guided her over his lap; being undressed before punishment always made her feel so small. Even smaller than she was already.
His hand rubbed gently in circles around on her pale, naked flesh, causing goosebumps to form. She bit her lip, waiting for the first smack. "This is for endangering yourself in such a foolish manner," he said sternly as he lifted his hand and started to spank her.
Abigail squealed as the slaps rained down on her quivering buttocks. No matter how many times it happened, she could never take her spankings bravely; Wesley's hand was far too hard, and she was far too soft. In no time at all, she would be kicking, squirming, and sobbing, and they both knew it.
Wesley's palm moved from cheek to cheek, delivering firm, even slaps at regular intervals. By this point, he had a fair bit of experience in delivering spankings and knew just how to reduce her to a sobbing mess when she deserved it. He had a stern look on his face as he watched her posterior flatten under his punishing hand. There was no excuse for doing something so silly and dangerous just because she was too lazy to find the ladder.
Her bottom had gone from pale to pink, and was now beginning to turn red. Abigail squirmed, feeling the first tears rolling down her cheeks. She whimpered, hoping that he would see how sorry she was for what she'd done so they could move on to the cuddles, but he seemed merciless.
After ten or fifteen minutes, she was kicking her legs as if possessed, and wriggling like a fish on land. She was sobbing and pleading for mercy, promising to never do something so stupid again. When he finally stopped, rubbing her rear end soothingly, it took a few minutes for her to notice.
He helped her up into a sitting position and hugged her, kissing her forehead as he whispered that she was forgiven. She buried her face in his chest, melting into his embrace. The spankings he gave her were always awful, but at least he knew how to comfort her afterwards.
"Wesley?" she murmured eventually.
"Yes, Abigail?" he responded, running his fingers through her hair.
"Do you think your father will still let me borrow the books? Even though I was standing on them?"
He chuckled. "I'm sure he will, sweetie – as long as you promise never to do it again."
Despite the throbbing pain in her bottom, Abigail smiled.
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