Maid for Spanking

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Another erotic story from the FLOGMASTER!

Copyright 1985-2016 by the Flogmaster. All Rights Reserved. Free distribution via electronic medium (i.e. the internet or electronic BBS) is permitted as long as the text is _not_ modified and this copyright is included, but _no_ other form of publication is allowed without written permission. This document _may_ contain explicit material of an ADULT nature. ***READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!*** Anything offensive is your own problem. This story is for **entertainment** purposes only, and it does _not_ necessarily represent the viewpoint of the author or the electronic source where this was obtained. All characters are *fictional* -- any resemblance to real people is purely coincidental.

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Maid for Spanking

(*****, MF/F, Intense, paddling, caning)

A couple seeks a spanking robot. (Approximately 3,343 words. Originally published 2004-01.)

Despite my confident words to Esther, I was rather nervous about our visit to Sexxtoys, Inc. It was a hellava lot of money for something you couldn't even own. (Androids are always leased, never sold, of course.)

But the money wasn't the main issue. If it worked, I'd pay it gladly. I just wasn't convinced an android would keep our marriage together. Dr. Suel insisted we at least try it, however, and I finally managed to convince Esther on the condition that we buy -- I mean lease -- an NF model. Non-Functional models are considerably cheaper, of course, and I would have to look to Esther for satisfaction. Not really a problem. I mean, sex robots are cool and all, but come on, they aren't the same as a living being.

We arrived at a quarter to ten. The Sexxtoys campus was huge: we had to park in Lot 13 and scooter our way to Building D which was nearly a mile away, so we just made our appointment. A pretty secretary led us to a private conference room. We admired the lovely and expensive decor while we waited.

We didn't have long to wait. Mr. Bernard arrived with a couple associates. One I noticed immediately: she was a petite brunette, college age, dressed with the casual elegance of someone with good taste but on a budget. Her modest dress fit her perfectly, revealing a stunning figure. She was small but voluptuous, with wide hips that sent my heart pumping. Her face was in the process of growing from schoolgirl cute to adult beautiful. When she smiled as she was introduced to me, I saw a flash of youthful charm and innocence.

"This is Rebecca," said Mr. Bernard, and the girl beamed at me and nodded politely at my wife. "She's one of my interns."

I noticed Rebecca kept her eyes low, looking up at Mr. Bernard with a reverence I found intriguing. I instantly sensed this was an intelligent, modest, enthusiastic young lady. I wished I could get to know her better. Esther must have sensed that, for she pushed herself against me, a reminder that we were there together. I smiled and put my arm around her shoulders, giving her a squeeze. Then we sat down in the plush chairs before our hosts.

At a nod from her boss, Rebecca took orders for coffee and departed. With her sadly gone, I was forced to pay attention to the two men: I'd barely noticed the anonymously handsome young man who was also Mr. Bernard's associate. He went to a video screen and began to give us what was obviously a standard demonstration. It showed various kinds of robots, explained their various capabilities, went over the care and maintaince schedule, etc. Periodically there were videos of scientists or satisfied customers. It was all routine. It told me nothing I really wanted to know, which was how realistic the robots were. I'd seen dozens of these promos and was completely bored.

Mr. Bernard realized this and kept looking at his watch. Finally, he spoke softly into his wrist phone, obviously deeply annoyed. Finally, after fifteen minutes of a poorly disguised sales pitch, the young man was finished. Mr. Bernard urged him to go and told him to find Rebecca with the coffee. He apologized to us profusely.

His apology was interrupted by the return of Rebecca, carrying a large tray with coffee fixings. She blushed at Mr. Bernard's stern gaze.

"I'm sorry, sir," she whispered, glancing our direction and blushing even more deeply. "I, uh... I had a little accident."

"What!" he hissed.

The poor girl went completely pink. "I dropped the tray. I had to replace everything."

Mr. Bernard looked livid -- a bit much for such a minor offense, I thought -- but of course Sexxtoys was the third largest corporation in the world, and no doubt they had high standards of behavior.

My wife squeezed my hand, her lips curling in sympathy. I understood what she wanted.

"It's alright, Mr. Bernard," I said pleasantly. "No harm done."

He frowned. "Perhaps not, Mr. and Mrs. Tennyson, but Miss Rebecca here is on thin ice. This is not her first offense. As an intern, she's essentially on probabation, and I'm afraid that careless mistakes won't look good on her review."

Rebecca looked absolutely mortified at these words. I saw she desperately wanted to speak in her defense but was afraid that doing so might further antagonize her boss.

"Just pour the coffee," said Mr. Bernard curtly. "We'll deal with your misbehavior later."

Nervous as a cat in a fireworks testing facility, the girl brought my wife and I cups and saucers and spoons. She was shaking like a leaf, traumatized, and Esther, always the forceful one, grabbed the girl's wrists, looked her straight in the eye and whispered, "Relax, Rebecca. We're all friends here."

Out loud, she said, "Those are lovely earrings. They bring out the color of your eyes."

Rebecca looked eminently grateful, smiled graciously, and thanked her. She was more relaxed as she returned with the coffee pot, but she still shook so badly she spilled both our drinks.

Mr. Bernard was severely annoyed. "If you can't even serve coffee properly, what good are you?" he scolded her. "I am tempted to discipline you right here in front of these good folks!"

Those words changed everything. The room spun, and I felt a furious surge between my legs. My every sense was on alert and I couldn't take my eyes of the delicate young beauty who stood with eyes downcast before her angry boss.

Surely he wouldn't -- he couldn't -- she wouldn't.... I didn't even dare dream of such a fantasy. I glanced at Esther and she too was excited, both of us no doubt showing our astonishment on our faces.

Mr. Bernard smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry about all this. She's new and still learning. You see, we practice what we preach here at Sexxtoys. This is the Discipline section, and our interns serve as guinea pigs, if you will. Our scientists are always working on ways to make our discipline androids more realistic, and to do that, they must study real-life subjects, of course. As part of her employement agreement, young Rebecca here has agreed to be subject to physical discipline."

Poor Rebecca looked so embarrassed and stared at the floor so hard I knew she was wishing she was anywhere but there.

"She's already had two sessions this week," said Mr. Bernard, "but obviously it taught her little. I shall have to give her a good paddling and thorough dose of the strap after we're finished."

I kept my face calm, but horrible disappointment shot through me. Esther squeezed my hand hard. I smiled blandly and nodded.

Mr. Bernard glared at Rebecca. "Now sit and watch and learn something." She obeyed instantly, terror haunting her pretty face.

He smiled at us, shaking his head like a frustrated father. He opened the folder before him and froze. The blood drained from his face. Slowly he turned to Rebecca. Her eyes went wide with fear and she half-rose as though ready to bolt.

"This. Is. The. Tautenbaum. File." He said slowly. He nodded in our directly. "These are the Tennysons. Do you not know how to read!"

Gulp. I was afraid Rebecca would pee in her panties she looked so frightened.

"Just get out," Mr. Bernard growled. "Go to my office and wait for your punishment."

The girl nodded vigorously. "Yes sir," she said meekly, and turned to go.

"Wait." The girl froze at her boss' command. Mr. Bernard turned to us. "I'm really sorry about this, and I hesitate to even ask, but there is value in administering punishment immediately, and I think the added humiliation factor would be good for this young lady..."

"Oh no, sir, please!" gasped Rebecca, clasping a hand over her mouth in horror.

"Shut up," he said curtly, not even looking at her. His eyes were focused on Esther's and mine. "It is an imposition, I know." He looked at his watch. "It will delay our meeting. Could you spare the time and would you mind?"

I couldn't breathe, so Esther spoke for us. "You wish to spank her, now, in front of us?"

Mr. Bernard nodded. "Yes."

"Of course," she said calmly, but I could hear the raw excitement underneath her polite tone. I nodded my acquience as well.

"Good," said Mr. Bernard. "It is time for Rebecca's first public spanking!" He rubbed his hands together eagerly. "Rebecca, you have sixty seconds to fetch me paddle number six and strap number four."

"Oh, but... Oh!" gasped the girl. Confusion raged across her face for a few scant seconds, then she was gone. I held my breath, counting the seconds. Thirty seconds. Forty. Fifty. Fifty-five. Sixty. Still no Rebecca. Seventy. Seventy-five. Eighty.

And then she burst through the door, panting with excertion, running to Mr. Bernard and holding out two items. The first was a large black paddle. It appeared to be made of ebony, and it was big and heavy like a frat paddle. The other item was a two-foot strip of leather. It was three inches wide, but the tail was split into two strips.

"Here... you are... sir," breathed the girl.

"You are twenty-two seconds tardy," said Mr. Bernard.

Rebecca was crushed, but nodded. "Yes sir."

"All right. Let's get this over with." The man studied the room for a second, then nodded. "Over the end conference table. Lift up your dress."

"Sir!" squeaked the girl, shocked and terrified.

Mr. Bernard didn't even say anything, just looked at her, and she quickly went and obeyed.

She gathered the dress up as she bent forward over the end of the table. She pulled it all the way up past her waist, exposing a pair of the prettiest panties I ever did see. They were white but translucent, allowing a slight pinkness from the skin of her bottom to be visible. They were high cut, exposing the lower outer portion of each buttcheek, which jutted out prominently. I was drooling.

Mr. Bernard wasted no time. He picked up the paddle and walked behind the girl. The paddle was big, but so was the girl's beautiful butt. It was a perfect fit, as though it was custom made for her butt. It just covered both cheeks.

The smacking sound of that big paddle whacking into that gorgeous butt nearly sent me over the edge. I gapped, open-mouthed, as the girl's body rocked forward. She let out a light gasp followed by a deep moan and shook her ass like it was on fire.

Oh God, this was what I'd been dreaming of my entire life. I'd visited a few professionals, but it was just too artificial. I'd tried spanking Esther, but she disliked anything more than a few squeezes and gentle pats. This -- this was real. It was hard, very hard, and very real. It was awesome.

On the third swat I came in my pants. By the sixth I was hard again, and by the twelveth and final stroke I was in the throes of another orgasm.

Slowly, Rebecca rose. She'd been remarkably obedient and calm throughout the spanking, staying in position and only crying out loud a few times. Now I could tell her fingers were itching to rub her ass, but she held them out beside her and wiggled them frantically, obviously trained to wait for permission before rubbing.

Her butt was gloriously red. The covered skin was a deep pink even through the white panties, and the exposed cheeks were the color of cooked lobster. I strained to see more, but then Mr. Bernard gave the order that sent me to heaven.

"Panties. Down."

Rebecca hesitated only a second, then reluctantly, slowly, obeyed. She slipped her fingers in the waistband on each side of her hips and carefully slid the thin material downward. My wife and I were both in ecstacy at the glorious sight of those perfectly round, bulging cheeks popping out of the white underwear. Her ass was even better than I imagined, the cleft deep and pronounced, each cheek impossibly round.

And between the cheeks, of course, glimpses of the girl's secrets, secret no longer. From where I was sitting she was at an angle so I couldn't see her directly from behind, but I saw enough to notice silhouettes of hairs and puffy lips. Wow, this girl was ripe!

The flesh of Rebecca's buttocks was severely inflamed. It was raw and mottled, the pinks going red and the reds going deep crimson as time passed. In an hour, her butt would be purple and bruised.

But of course her punishment wasn't even finished yet! Mr. Bernard had wrapped the end of the strap around his wrist a few times, obtaining the perfect length, and then he ordered Rebecca to bend forward.

Her dress had fallen a bit, obscuring the top half of her ass. It was teasingly cute, showing off the plump lower curves while half-protecting her modesty, and I was almost disappointed when she hauled the dress all the way up again. Almost.

The strapping was every bit as hard as the paddling. Every swipe was given full-force, no holding back. Esther cringed at every blow and even looked away a few times. The stripes left by the leather were intense. They were magenta in color, and I could see the flesh swelling as the skin welted.

Finally, it was over. Amazingly, I'd come again: my pants were soaked. Good thing I'd wore a dark pair.

Poor Rebecca was sobbing. She was made to go stand and face the wall, holding up her dress so we could see her bare ass. Mr. Bernard excused himself to get the correct file, and it was obvious Rebecca was mortified to be alone with us.

Esther and I didn't know what to do or say. We felt a word of comfort was appropriate, but we had both tremendously enjoyed the experience so comfort seemed hypocritical. Besides, the girl had deserved it, right?

When Mr. Bernard returned, he was carrying a folder (presumably the correct one this time), as well as a long wooden rod. I recognized it as a cane even as the girl did: she let out a screech followed by a moan.

"Oh no, Mr. Bernard, please," she cried, whimpering and sniffling and wiggling.

"You were twenty-two seconds late," he said sternly.

My body was in ecstasy. Though I felt drained, I was surging alive yet again! My pleasure was complete when Mr. Bernard turned to me and said, "Mr. Tennyson? Would you mind doing the honors? I'm a bit spent."

Without even thinking about how weird this was, or declining politely as any rational person would have done, I took the cane and approached the girl. She watched me over her shoulder, terror in her eyes. But there was also a sense of resignation, of duty, and that seemed to calm her more impulsive instincts.

I caned Rebecca. I didn't do it especially hard, for her bottom was already sore, and twenty-two strokes is a lot for the cane. But I made them solid, and I explored her bottom with the rod. I found the flesh delightfully firm and yet wonderfully bouncy. Her gasps made me hard, and her wiggling brought me to fruition yet again.

After fifteen strokes, I sighed and passed the stick to a surprised and delighted Esther. She was more vicious than I, striking harder, and landing several blows across Rebecca's thighs (a mixed blessing if there ever was one). I think she was surprised she enjoyed it as much as she did. She has tried to spank me on a few occasions (or rather, I've tried to let her), but I'm a pussy when it comes to pain and she has never wanted to hurt me. With Rebecca accepting her discipline so calmly, however, Esther was able to really strike hard and give a good thrashing for the first time in her life, and I could tell she enjoyed it immensely.

Esther calmly put the cane down on the table as Rebecca wept, still facing the wall.

"We'll take her," said Esther calmly.

Mr. Bernard looked suprised, then he beamed. "Ah? You know?"

"Of course."

I stared at my wife and the man in confusion. "What are you talking about it?"

"The girl," said Esther, jerking a thumb toward Rebecca. "She's an android."

"Technically a cyborg, but there's no need to nitpick," said Mr. Bernard. "And yes, she's yours. RBKA-202. She's just the third 2.0 model out. Isn't she remarkable? Incredibly advanced. She's worth the GNP of a small country."

My jaw must have been hanging open because Esther began to giggle at me.

"John didn't even know," she told Mr. Bernard. "As usual, he's thinking too much with his little head."

I gapped, staring at my wife, Mr. Bernard, and then at the stunningly beautiful, extremely red-bottomed young lady... who wasn't a young lady at all but a robot.

"She can't be," I said. "No way. No fuckin' way!"

Mr. Bernard grinned. "Rebecca, dear?"

The girl turned and I saw her tears were gone. She let the dress fall and she looked similar to how I'd first seen her, though her face was glowing a bit more now. She smiled at me.

"I am not hurt, John. I am designed to be spanked. My gluteous maximus can take over fifty 200 ppsi paddle swats per day. My recovery period is generally 24 hours, with an outside range of 48 in extreme circumstances."

I discovered I was falling, fortunately into a chair. I was in awe: this beautiful, amazingly feminine creature I'd been lusting for since the moment I met her was mine. I'd be allowed to take her home and spank her as much as I wanted.

"We wanted to give you a convincing demonstration," said Mr. Bernard. "I trust you were convinced?"

"She... she seems so real," I said, shaking my head in disbelief. "Every emotion. Embarrassment, humiliation, fear, suffering, it was all there. How--?"

"Secrets of the trade," said Mr. Bernard, holding up his hands. "Our emotion algorithms are the best in the business, better than anything the government has developed. But of course we've poured billions into R&D. We have tremendous incentive to do so, of course. Our clients demand authenticity."

As he spoke, Mr. Bernard was placing the contracts on the table. He handed me a pen and I signed without even reading it. The series of zeros on the annual lease payment line was astounding, but I didn't care. It could have been double that and I'd have paid.

"She'll learn the kind of behavior you require," said Mr. Bernard. "For instance, if you want her to be more docile, or make more noise, she can adjust to your preference. If appropriate, she'll be bratty occasionally, or she'll misbehave on purpose to give you an excuse to punish her. Whatever you want, she'll do, and she'll soon learn to do it without even being asked. She's the ultimate sex toy."

"But she can't have sex?" asked Esther suddenly.

Mr. Bernard shook his head. "No, not this model. She's fully anatomically correct, of course, but she has no sexual programming. You could have intercourse with her but it would be like doing it with a dead person."

"Good," said Esther, taking my arm in hers. "John isn't into necrophilia."

"Rebecca's trained as maid. I'm sure you'll find her useful in that capacity. It also gives you an excuse for her presence if you have guests over. And of course she knows thousands of naughty maid scenarios."

We left the institute considerably poorer but far happier. Already Esther and I were rubbing against each other, horny as two inmates, eager to get home and fuck. Looks like Dr. Suel was right after all. Rebecca would be delivered on Saturday. We could hardly wait.

The End

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