Toil and Trouble (for diceroller4)

She wouldn’t get far. Some unseen force would seize her wrist and force her right back down, stomach-first, onto the table, while the yardstick hovered on it’s own behind her. Suddenly, it’s orientation would flip - from vertical, to horizontal - and rear itself back, far behind Nancy’s rear end…

Thwack! The yardstick came down and striped itself right across the center of Nancy’s bottom. Before she could even protest, it came down a second time, smacking her lower on her rear like any naughty servant would get if they broke the rules. Thwack! Whatever unseen creature or person was wielding the ruler, they had quite a bit of power to their swing!

[diceroller4]

Nancy let out a shout of protest as she felt herself being forced down against the table. Her arma scrambled against the wood as she tried to get leverage to push herself up but failed to overcome whatever invisible force held her.

"Let me go," she tried demanding again missing the changing of the sticka position. She was thus caught by surprise when it came crashing down, letting out a shocked gasp at the sudden line of buring heat that sprang across her bottom. "What the hell," she complained when another stripe landed. Her hands curled into fists as she felt a third firey line slice through her denim coverer bottom.

"You can't do this," she tried to protest as she stomped her feet. She had never been spanked in her life and this was certainly not a kind introduction to the concept. Her attempts to flee from the yardstick did her little good however beyond wiggling her bottom in the air as if showing off the target.

Every protest Nancy made didn’t seem to hinder the monster’s performance even a little bit; instead, all the ruckus she was making fighting back against her captor just seemed to aggravate the librarian further. Less time was taken in-between strokes of the yardstick the more noise she made, the implement beginning to crack itself against Nancy’s upturned rear faster and faster.

Whack! Whack! Whack! The drum of the yardstick spanking away echoed down the quiet halls and made even more noise in the small study. And the more noise made, the angrier the librarian got. Whack! Whack! The yardstick continued to reign, each blow flattening Nancy’s pert butt as it struck her along her rear end.

[diceroller4]

Noooo. Stooop," Nancy whined lowely as the strikrs kept landing. Her butt was searing and her spank hurt more than the last. "Just let me go! Why are you doing this to me?!" She pounded her fists on the table even as she stomped her feet, her face red with embarrassment as she seemed to be treated like a naughty child.

It was getting hard to protest clearly and her words were being replaced more often with exclamations of pain. "Yow! Cut it Eek! out! I didn't do Owie! anything wrong! Ah!" With tears beginning to leak from her eye she tried reaching back to protect her bottom.

If her attacker could speak, they certainly weren’t taking the liberty to, letting the yardstick do the talking for them instead as it danced across Nancy’s backside and pushed her harder down against the flat of the table. Whack, whack, whack! The yardstick assaulted her lower thighs and even nipped at the bits of bare skin her shortalls didn’t protect. Such clothing didn’t exist in the time of the manor, after-all, so as far as the yardstick-wielding shadow might care, her improper dress only another reason to punish this hooligan.

She did receive some kind of response, though - the yardstick, seemingly determined on strapping a new shade of red into Nancy’s thighs - stopped for only a short second. So that whoever was holding it could demand a very simple thing; “Sssshhhh!”

With that temporary break, the yardstick went right back to work. Whack! Whack! Whack!

[diceroller4]

Nancy's fight to hold back tears ended abruptly when the first blow landed on bare flesh. She let out a loud wail and began crying earnestly, begging for the spanking to stop. "Please no more! Please! I'll be good! Whaa," she cried moving her hands back in front of her. She burried her face in her hands as she loudly wept.

Hearing the chasing sound for what it was at last Nancy did her best to quite down. Unfortunately her bottom was blazing far too hotly for total silence but she managed to keep herself to simple sobs with an occasional garbled aplogie thrown in. She officially hated this house and as far as she was concerned the whole place could just burn down. For the time being the the only burning seemed to be in her bottom and thighs.

By the time Nancy had lost control of her tears, bright, red lines were already showing through her shorts, an iridescent red glow permeating from inside. That didn’t mean the spirit was going any lighter on her, though, the cane delivering a good few more whacks to her clothed bottom before slowing down. The quieter she got, the slower the swings came… slower, slower…

Until eventually, the yardstick was delivering mere love-taps against the seat of Nancy’s pants. Finally, the yardstick settled down, flipping back up vertically. Nancy would be lifted up from the desk she was laying on, spun gently around to face all the books on the floor… and the yardstick would fiercely point itself at the mess made in the library. There was no subtlety in what it wanted.

Giving her a moment to decode it’s message, the yardstick reared itself back again for one final, softer, yet still felt ‘thwack!’ across Nancy’s rear to get her moving.

[diceroller4]

Nancy didn't even notice at first when the swats started getting softer, her bottom already hurt so much. Once she was allowed up and was pointed at her mess she couldn't help but mutter another apology, now fully understanding the reason for what she had just experienced. It wasn't just some random act but a punishment for perceived wrong doing. Except the punishment had been the same that would have been given a child, a thought that made her upper cheeks almost as hot as the lower.

Her brief musing was cut short by the fresh swat to her stinging seat, sending her stumbling forward with her hands clutching her burning rear protectively. Once out of range of the yard stick she began trying to rub some of the sting from her bottom, performing a dance the spirit may have been familiar with but she certainly wasn't. After a moment however she glanced over her shoulder and spotted the yardstick. Deciding she wasn't willing to risk another round she got to work, putting books away with one hand while the other kept trying to relieve her aching butt.

And there, the yardstick floated. Waiting, as if to see if Nancy was going to try and bail out on cleaning up her mess or if she would commit. It took an agonizingly long time for the spirit to make up it's mind. As it stood there, minute by minute, the sound of a foot tapping against the ground while it waited... every so often, the yardstick would lift a little bit, drift back down, lift a little bit, drift back down. As if to remind Nancy she was still being watched.

A ways into the clean-up detail and the stick seemed to have made up it's mind. The implement itself moved and rested down on the nearby table, while the sound of footsteps led back deeper into the room. There was a familiar noise that followed.

Thwip.

[diceroller4]

While it wasn't fast work her pace did pick up a bit once she had given up on rubbing away the sting and focused on cleaning up. She still moved slow however due to the burn in her bottom getting agitated when she by certain movements. She glanced over her shoulder from time to time to see if the yardstick was still there, letting out a sigh of releif when it was finally set down.

With a fresh spanking no longer looming Nancy felt a bit more confident in her work as she put away the last of the horror books she had strewn about. With the cleaning finished she was tempted to flee the room and never look back but she refrained. She still needed to find the key after all. She gave a sigh as she considered the only Horror books she hadn't checked were the once in the topmost shelves she would have to stretch for or find something to stand on.

She stopped for a moment in thought. Was she even looking in the right direction? She sat down to think about that, only to spring to her feet with a yip as her bottom touched the chair. Her hands instinctively moved to cover her poor abused butt at first but a moment later sprang to cover her mouth in fear she might set the room off again. It was in that moment when she was giving the yardstick cautious glances that it occured to her, Romance! How had she not seen it from the get go?

Move quickly forward she started on the romance shelf, this time pulling off only a single book at a time before putting it back