SSC: Automaton I

Another erotic story from the FLOGMASTER!

Copyright 1985-2020 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.

Purchase this story in print form!

Don't like reading on screen? This story is available in print form in Super-Short Stories: Volume 1 at the Flogmaster's Bookstore. Purchase your copy today to encourage the Flogmaster to write more cool stories.

SSC: The Spanking Automaton I

(****, machine/F, Intense, Paddling, semi-cons)

A woman plays with her husband's new invention without permission. (Approximately 491 words. Originally published 1998-06.)

For two months Ezra had been working on it, refusing me even a look. On two occasions he'd blindfolded me to test it. I was bound to the table and suffered the indignity of being nothing more than a punching bag for his mechanical genius. You see the machine didn't work properly yet. My ass would get two or three good cracks, starting my juices flowing, and then it would stop. I was forced lie there and wait while he tinkered with the machine for a half hour. Talk about excruciating!

When it was finally finished, I wanted to try it immediately, but Ezra refused. It was late and he had a big meeting the next day. "We'll have plenty of time this weekend," he told me.

All day Friday I admired the beautiful design. There was the soft leather bench where I'd fasten myself, my wrists and ankles sliding easily into the provided restraints. The various paddle arms, the simple dial controls to indicate duration and severity. Twice I orgasmed just staring at it and fantasizing.

By afternoon, I could wait no longer. It was against Ezra's wishes, but what would he do? Spank me? (I sure hoped so!)

Throwing away caution, I set it on "continuous" at the lightest setting. Ezra would be home in an hour or so -- by the time he got here I'd be ready for the more significant punishment he'd have for me.

Everything began well. I was naked, the leather seat wonderful against my skin. My bare ass was stuck well up on the curved bench, the cheeks growing pink as the paddle arms smacked them at random intervals. The tingling, burning sensation was delightful. My pussy grew damp. I suddenly regretted locking my wrists -- I ached to touch myself. But I was helpless until Ezra returned.

Time passed quickly. I was lost in an orgasmic haze of pain and pleasure. The paddling, which at first had seemed too mild, was now quite stingy. My buttocks were becoming sore. Surely Ezra should be home soon. I twisted my neck to look at the wall clock. Nearly six. Ezra's always home by six!

Oh God! What if something have happened to him? I'd be stuck in this machine forever!

I struggle, but it's useless. The restraints are secure. The paddling's really hurting now, and fear has made my sex dry. Oh, God, what have I done!

The telephone rings. The machine picks it up. Ezra's voice: "Hi Hon. Sorry, but I have to meet a big client. Unavoidable, I'm afraid. His plans changed and he's only in town for the night. I won't be home until very late, probably after eleven. Don't bother waiting up. Love you!"

I began to cry as the paddle whacked me a good one. My sex began to churn again. Five more hours of this, I thought miserably. Ouch! Five more hours.

The End