Out of Storage
Alex couldn't explain her actions of late. She had a very good job as a
secretary/assistant with a local private college, her bills were being paid on
a regular basis, but her feelings were not of a 42-year-old woman with a steady
boyfriend. They were that of a much younger person, perhaps about twelve, who
vaguely knew that she had erred on several occasions, but had not been caught
or disciplined for them. Now her feelings were finally catching up with her.
Her boyfriend, Kevin, was very sweet, and was into adult spanking, as she was,
but try as she might, she couldn't quite get the idea across to him that what
she needed, what she deserved, was to be lectured sternly to, pulled over his
knee, her bottom bared, and a serious disciplinary spanking administered, with
either his very strong left hand or his favorite paddle. She felt that she
needed to be punished, and seriously, or her actions would continue. Kevin had
the tendency to stop at her first plea, and rub the sting out of her bottom.
She needed a no-nonsense corporal punishment session.
Late at night, Alex found herself fantasizing about the spanking machine that
she had built a couple of years before, and with the help of her
then-boyfriend, Robert, had patented after demonstrating it during the
Christmas season at the local mall, down the hall and around the corner from
the Santa display. After the Christmas season wound down, Robert and Alex had
broken off the relationship, and the machine, now unused, went into hibernation
at the local storage facility. Alex would often drive past that facility,
several miles out of her way home from work, and wondering if she had the nerve
to put the machine back into use.
The first weekend of spring, with Alex's regular workout and errands done, Alex
once again thought of getting that very sound spanking from the machine.
Drawing a deep breath and snatching her car keys from the pegboard just inside
the front door, she headed for the storage locker. For a fleeting moment, Alex
actually thought of shutting the large steel rolldoor behind her at the storage
locker, setting up the machine and being spanked there, but decided against it.
Quickly checking to make sure all of the parts, especially the lecture tapes,
were in the large box along with the machine, she squeezed it into the trunk of
her Toyota sedan, locked the storage door, and left for home. She now knew that
once she got home, there would be no turning back. She was due for, and was
going to get, just what she deserved; a serious, disciplinary spanking for her
misdeeds. She would once again be transformed into a younger person, over the
machine's "lap", kicking and pleading for the spanking to end.
Inside the door of her spacious, for-once-clean apartment, Alex turned on a
classical music CD to alleviate some of the noise that would occur. Fortunately
for her, the neighbor downstairs was gone on business quite a bit, and this was
one of those times. Setting up the machine was no problem; Alex had done it
several times, the machine was up and ready in ten minutes. Checking to make
sure all screws and bolts were still tight, she then selected a lecture tape.
It was, as usual, a female lecture tape, so it would be as if an older woman
was going to spank her. Alex tried to never use the same tape very often, that
way it would simulate a real discipline session with a different lecture.
Knowing that she would be "occupied" for quite some time, Alex used the
bathroom, and drank some cold water. Nervous now, she approached the machine,
and pushed in the button to start the lecture. The "head" of the machine turned
to look at Alex, the "left hand" took her wrist, and told her to pull down her
jeans. When Alex tried to tug her hand away, the grip tightened and the command
was repeated. She was to pull down her jeans immediately, she was told. If she
had to have it done for her, the spanking would be worse, and she was in enough
trouble already. Imagine, she was told, a grown woman acting like a
12-year-old. Well, if she was going to act like a 12-year-old, she was going to
be spanked like one. Alex slowly unsnapped and unzipped her jeans, and then
tugged them down to her knees. She was then pulled over the lap of the robot,
and the "left hand" came down to rest on her lower back, holding her in place.
Did she know why she was being spanked, she was asked, in a sharp tone? "Yes
ma'am", Alex replied quietly. "For being a brat, ma'am" was the nervous answer.
Her tone of voice even sounded like that of a young girl, over her mother's lap
for a sound spanking.
Alex felt her panties being pulled down, and struggled against the hand holding
her down. For her troubles, she got a sharp smack on each cheek. The robot told
her that 12-year-olds' were spanked on the bare bottom, and that was what she
would be getting. Holding her down firmly now, the right hand was raised, and
the punishment began. Methodically and solidly, the punishing hand descended on
Alex's bottom now. She squirmed frantically, and started kicking, pleading for
the spanking to stop, but to no avail. Pleading seemed to increase the
intensity and frequency of the spanks, and she knew that she was in for a good,
hard, spanking that wouldn't stop till the lecture tape did. She was right.
Finally, with Alex sobbing limply over the robot's lap, she was told to stand
up, and to go get the hairbrush. No amount of handspanking would correct this
problem, the robot told her. Perhaps a good dose of the solid wooden hairbrush
would serve as a reminder of proper behavior. When she tried to remonstrate
against doing what she was told, once again she was yanked over the lap and got
ten solid spanks on each cheek. Now, would she do what she was told? She would,
slowly rose, and brought the hairbrush to the robot.
Still crying, Alex was pulled over the lap again, and her bottom solidly
reddened with the back of the wooden hairbrush. She truly FELT like a
12-year-old, bare bottomed over a lap, getting the spanking she so deserved.
Finally, when she felt she could take no more, the hairbrush was dropped on the
floor, and Alex was told to stand up. She did, crying very hard, trying to rub
the horrible sting out, and was told to march over to the corner. Alex was to
stand in the corner, jeans and panties still down to her knees, for twenty
minutes, to reflect on what she had gotten.
To her credit, Alex did, and a few days later, cleaned out her storage locker
and returned the keys. She had a feeling she'd have a use for the spanking
machine very soon again. She was right.<<
Hand Over the Chocolate and nobody gets hurt.
An' when did she need it next? An' is it patented an' in production? An' what
are the other lecture tapes like? <those would sell like hotcakes I bet!!!>
Joni :) thanks, Chorus!
Some things only she knows
Thanks! the creative juices ran wild yesterday, and I just had to let it
You are an extremely naughty young lady. Surely you know that
commercial ads such as the one you posted about a spanking machine are
forbidden by the Charter. <genuflect here>
Then you proceed to add blasphemy to the long list of crimes by implying
that TOPS are redundant as they can be replaced by a mere machine no
matter how cleverly crafted. <Praise the spank deity>
Thanks for a fine story.
Posted and e-mailed.
Valid return address is <YLeeC...@Juno.com>
(Posting address is for the spammers)
>You are an extremely naughty young lady<<
Am not. But I'm glad you liked the story!
You could set it for twelve strokes of the cane of a level of sevarity that
each will leave a nice welt. You lock your self in and you get one right in
the center of your cheeks one a half-inch above the first and the next a
half-inch below until they where all given out. Twelve perfectly placed
stripes. As close to perfect as a machine can do.
Spanking machines- Yupper a good story
Obeying her these days.