Kane guides me deep into the reference section, past rows of towering shelves until we’re in a quiet, shadowed corner where no one ever goes at this hour. The smell of old books is thick. My breathing is ragged.
Without a word, Kane turns me to face a sturdy oak table, bends me over it, and yanks my jeans and briefs down in one quick motion.
Cool air hits my bare skin. I gasp.
Then his hand comes down.
Smack.
Hard.Precise. The sound echoes softly in the empty stacks. Heat blooms across my right cheek.
“Owwww,” I whimper.
“Now you understand,” Kane growls, his one hand on the small of my back as my sweater rides up. “Now you will learn another kind of lesson.”
Smack. Smack. Smack.
I bite my lip to keep from crying out, but little whimpers escape anyway. Each strike is measured, controlled, sending jolts of stinging pleasure-pain straight between my legs as my now rock-hard cock aches with desire.
My bottom grows hotter, tighter, throbbing under his palm.
Tears prick my eyes. Not from hurt, but from the overwhelming release of tension I didn’t even know I was carrying.
“Oweeee,” I squeal, grabbing a nearby book and stuffing it between my mouth so I can bite down on it.
“Smart boy,” Kane says, landing another spank and then another in quick succession. “Smart boy with a bright red ass.”
Kane spanks me until my whole backside feels glowing and tender, until I’m breathless and trembling, aching and utterly undone.
Then he stops. Kane pulls my briefs and jeans back up with surprising gentleness. His big hand rests on my lower back for a moment, steadying me as I straighten on shaky legs.
Kane turns me to face him. His expression is calm, but his eyes burn.
“If you’re interested in seeing me again,” Kane says, voice low and commanding, “come back to this library tomorrow night. Same time. Notone secondlate.” He leans in, brushing a stray hair from my face. “Or the spanking you get next time will be much,muchharder and it will take more than a book to muffle your cries.”
With that, Kane presses a single, almost tender kiss to my forehead, then steps back.
And then, he’s gone… melting into the shadows between the shelves like he was never there.
I stand there for a long minute, bottom blazing, heart racing, brain short-circuiting.
My hand drifts back to rub the soreness, and a tiny, traitorous moan slips out.
I cum in my pants, right there on the spot.
I feel ashamed, exhilarated, and everything in between.
But more than anything, I’m alive in a way I haven’t felt in years.
Slowly, I pick up my book and backpack.
Twist peeks out, looking none the wiser. My trusty friend is always there for me, and right now I need him close.
I walk very carefully back to my nook by the radiator. I’ll wait a moment and then go to the bathroom to clean myself up. I don’t want to move now in case it looks obvious or weird to anyone who might have been lurking.
As I sit, the warmth feels different now against my tender skin. I sit gingerly, wince, and open the book again, but the words blur.
All I can think about is tomorrow night.
