Join the Fun

By registering you get access to our chats, event updates, and more!

Already registered?

Man vs. Spanking Machine

By Bob DJ

As the Eagles sang in “Desperado” … “Your prison is walking through this world all alone.”

This was the story of Janet. Her heart and soul would go places her body somehow could never seem to find. Sitting in her cubicle, hearing the stories of the other girls, of the people and places they see, and of the lives they lead. Weekends in Palm Springs, a friend-of-a-friend’s yacht in Catalina. It all sounded fun, but she never quite trusted these nattering little backstabbers, so joining-in with them was just not her style. “Quality over Quantity” was her motto.

And Men…. Gawd, where to start on THAT subject. Let’s start with: Disappointment, Dishonesty, and Disenchantment. All these “D” words only D-epressed her. Great, she mused, another “D” word. I need some Wine… and a nap.

All she wanted was a decent guy who would love her the way her Dad did … unconditionally. He didn’t care if she gained a few pounds or if she had a bad hair day. It never mattered to him. But what did matter to him very much was that she treat him with respect. Disrespect, he felt, was bad for her character and could adversely affect her adult life.

Being an honest man with traditional values, he believed that if you spare the rod, you spoil the child. Needless to say, Janet was never spoiled, and although they hurt like hell, her spankings were a strange mix of emotions that she would not fully understand until years later.

So it was when she was online watching an endless drivel of half-hearted, unsatisfying “self-spanking” videos on some free tube site that she saw the ad.
No cutie-pie kitchy name; it was simply referred to as the Spanking Machine.

She read up on this curious device. It was based on existing baseball-pitching machines and featured two radial-swing arms connected to dual variable-speed pneumatic launch rams. The launch rams were modified with recoil springs, individual controls and an attachment clamp for a variety of implements:
Razor Strops (yikes!)
Carpet Beaters (huh?)
Rattan Canes (too British)
Oak Paddles (ummmmmm maybe)

Then down at the bottom of the list two words made her stomach do flip-flops: “Daddy Belts.” She anxiously clicked on the details tab to read their description:

“Our Straps are made of the finest leathers, stitched, eased and handcrafted in the U. S. A. …”

She stared long and hard at the “Commit to Purchase” button, closed her eyes, and clicked. Now for that wine, she thought nervously to herself. I must be crazy.

Twelve days later Mike the UPS guy showed up with her package. He carried it to her living room and asked why she was blushing. Mike was always that way, curious to a fault. But the package was unmarked, her secret secure.

She assembled the machine, then attached the brown leather straps to the arms. She smiled as she could easily double over the straps just as she remembered. That was it.

She positioned it at the end of her bed. As a test, she took an overstuffed pillow, placed it over the padded rail and pressed the Start button.

Her eyes glowed as the straps beat out a rhythm on her pillow, and the thought of them being her bottom made her tremble and smile. “I need this,” she whispered.

Janet stripped to a babydoll tee and white cotton panties. She then sat on the bed, sipping her wine and studying the machine, pondering what it was about to do to her. Trembling with anticipation, she finished her wine and slowly, deliberately walked behind the machine. She kneeled down and lay over the padded rail, resting her torso on the bed. She reached for a pillow and tucked it under her chest. She looked back at the machine, as to an imagined lover and said softly “I deserve a whipping.”

She pressed the Restraint button and felt the padded bar press down gently but firmly on the small of her back, arching her bottom up and spreading her cheeks slightly. Then she tested the release button. This button could only be used before or after the session; once the spanking was in motion there was no stopping it. She decided that for starters she would go for 100 medium-force licks.

With trembling fingers she pushed Start, closed her eyes and waited. As the machine readied the straps, her stomach turned into a web of knots. She took a deep breath


The first side strap landed squarely across her elevated bottom, Janet clenched the mattress and awaited the second one


The pace was set for five seconds apart as she started to moan softly.


By twenty smacks she was now anticipating each one and raised her hips to greet them, now three seconds apart.


Her hips gyrated and caused her panties to ride up, baring her bottom.


She closed her eyes and softly muttered, “Oh gawd …”


Left and right, the machine showed no mercy as they landed one second apart.



Her eyes clenched tightly as she bit her pillow and arched her back.


It was a relentless whipping — and just what she dreamt of for years. At last the machine finished ………. and all was silent.

Janet was shuddering as tears streamed down her face. She released the bar and stumbled to her feet and to the floor-length mirror. Her bottom was covered with strap marks and she even saw a few bruises. She looked back at the machine with a profound sense of respect for its abilities as she rubbed her burning bottom.
She slept deeply that night.

It went on like this for several weeks, once a week, she would make a date with herself, get something yummy to eat on the way home, include dessert, and then walk around the lake near her housing community. She felt, if not understood by the outside world, then at least content within herself, and this newfound self-confidence began to show on her. She lost weight from the walks, and the girls at the office knew something was going on but not what. It baffled them, and this delighted Janet to no end.

Having dinner at Applebee’s usually meant putting up with the bar crowd, especially when the game’s on, but little things like that just didn’t seem to bother Janet much anymore, as she looked up to see Mike the UPS guy standing there.

“Not a Chargers fan, huh?” he smiled

Janet, under the influence of a couple Margaritas, caught herself staring at the black leather belt Mike was wearing before meeting his eyes.

“Naw, I never got into sitting on the bleachers watching men bash into each other. It’s…. dumb…… how about you?”

“I was going to meet someone here for drinks, kind of a blind date, but I think she blew it off… oh well …. want some company?”

Janet smiled, blushed and sheepishly answered, “Okay.”

Unknown to Janet, Mike had attended spanking parties, knowing in an instant the kind of girl he was dealing with. Before too long, Mike and Janet were becoming an item. Rumor has it they’re stealing away together over Labor Day weekend to go to the big spanking party in Vegas, but darned if they even hint to anyone at work as to why.

1 comment to Man vs. Spanking Machine

  • PhilK

    This felt like it was developing into a pretty good story, then suddenly – bump! Just as it was promising to get really interesting, it was all over and wrapped up in a couple of paras. What happened to the rest of it?

Leave a Reply




You can use these HTML tags

<a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <strike> <strong>