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Text
In the dimly lit library, the silence was abruptly shattered by the sound of crashing books and toppled shelves. The culprit was a college jock, known for his bravado and disregard for rules. He strutted through the aisles, knocking over stacks of books and pushing shelves aside, leaving a trail of chaos in his wake.
The librarian, a stern woman in her late forties, watched the destruction from behind her desk. She remained calm, her eyes narrowing as she observed the jock's antics. As he approached the desk, he smirked and leaned against it, crossing his arms.
"Well, what are you going to do about it?" he taunted, his voice dripping with arrogance.
The librarian looked up at him, her expression unreadable. "Come back after the library is closed," she replied softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
The jock's smirk widened, and he pushed off the desk. "Okay, I'll be back," he said, turning to leave.
The library closed its doors to the public, and the librarian began the tedious task of cleaning up the mess left by the jock. She spent hours rearranging books, straightening shelves, and restoring order to her domain. As the night wore on, she prepared for the jock's return, a determined look in her eyes.
When the jock returned, he found the library quiet and seemingly empty. He walked in, his cocky smile still plastering his face. As he ventured deeper into the library, he didn't notice the librarian lurking in the shadows. She moved silently, a cloth soaked in a potent sedative in her hand.
As the jock passed by a dark corner, the librarian struck. She snuck up behind him, pressing the cloth over his nose and mouth. He struggled briefly, but the sedative took effect quickly, and he slumped to the floor, unconscious.
The librarian dragged the jock to a secluded room in the library, where a sturdy table awaited. She strapped him down, securing his wrists and ankles to the table's legs. She then stripped him down to his grey boxer briefs, leaving him vulnerable and exposed.
Hours later, the jock began to stir. His eyes fluttered open, and he found himself strapped to the table, the librarian standing over him. She held a ruler in her hand, her expression stern.
"You're finally awake," she said, her voice cold and unyielding. "It took me all day to clean up the mess you made. So, I'm going to give you a disciplinary spanking."
The jock's eyes widened in shock and disbelief. Before he could protest, the librarian raised the ruler and brought it down sharply on his ass, the impact muffled by his boxer briefs. She continued, spanking him fifty times, the sound of the ruler against his briefs echoing through the room.
As she finished the first round of spankings, the jock's breath came in ragged gasps, his body tensing against the restraints. The librarian then grabbed a pair of scissors and, with a swift motion, cut his boxer briefs off, leaving him completely exposed.
She resumed the spanking, this time directly on his smooth, bare buttocks. Each strike of the ruler left a stinging sensation, and the jock grunted in pain, his body squirming against the table. The librarian continued, her arm rising and falling in a steady rhythm, ensuring that each spank was felt.
When she finally stopped, the jock's ass was red and sore, a testament to the intensity of the spanking. The librarian set the ruler down and leaned over him, her voice low and stern.
"This is what happens when you disrespect the library and its patrons," she said. "Next time, think before you act."
With that, she released him from the restraints, leaving him to dress and leave, his pride and arrogance thoroughly deflated. The jock stumbled out of the library, his tail between his legs, a lesson well-learned.
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