Here’s a fairly entertaining story (if you can get past the lack of character motivation) of a woman who gets spanked, for no particular reason, by another woman at the controls of a very sophisticated set of laboratory robot arms:
By the time I’d made it through the last door I was aware that the lights were on in the contagion room. That didn’t surprise me a lot, because the weekend staff was often careless about the lights, too. Still, I was curious enough to slip into the darkened control room in order to see, without being seen, whether someone was in the C-Room, as we called it.
Someone was there, all right, and the sight just about blew my mind! Kristin lay on her back on one of the work counters, totally nude, her clothing in a pile on the floor. That would have been astounding enough, but what made the scene really incredible was that the “fingers” on one of the mechanical arms were fondling one of her breasts while those on a second arm were busy amidst the pale hair between her legs! Incredulous at what I was seeing, I sat down to watch.
The computer beside me was on and the screen indicated that it was in the “engaged” mode, which meant it was controlling the mechanical devices in the C-Room. Kristin had obviously done a little extra-curricular programming, and from what I could tell she seemed to have done a very good job!
I couldn’t hear anything from the next room, but Kristin’s head and body were in constant motion as the mechanical digits caressed first one breast and then the other, pulled gently at her engorged nipples, and glided easily in and out of the dark slit that was only half-hidden by her silky pubic hair.
I stood up quietly and slipped a blank tape into the VCR. I didn’t know what I might do with the tape, but the way my own juices were starting to flow, I suspected that I was going to want to watch this scene again – in living color, no less! It was while I was loading the tape that I noticed a third mechanical arm. It was motionless now, but Kristin plainly didn’t expect it to remain so, because its padded fingers were clamped around the base of the largest dildo I’d ever seen!
Without any definite plan in mind, I switched on the video monitor in the control room, so I could see and hear what was being recorded on the video tape, and disengaged the computer. Kristin looked surprised as the magic fingers stopped their kneading and probing, and then astonished as the hand that had been toying with her pussy moved up to her waist.
Astonishment gave way to alarm as I used the arm to roll her onto her stomach. She began to struggle, making incoherent sounds, but I pushed two of the mechanical hands into the small of her back to hold her in place on the flat counter. I hadn’t decided what to do next, but the sight of her perfect ass, wiggling as she tried vainly to get her knees under her, gave me an idea.
I spread the arms slightly and opened their fingers to grip Kristin firmly on either side of her narrow waist. With their immense strength the mechanical arms had no trouble lifting her off the counter. I swung her into the middle of the room, where she hung suspended by her middle about five feet off the floor, head down, boobs jutting, legs kicking and arms flailing helplessly. “Stop it”, she yelled, “whoever you are! Put me down, now!”
I offered no response as my eyes searched the C-Room for a suitable object. I found a perfect one on another work counter – a 50-centimeter scale. It was like a ruler except that it was made out of thick, clear plastic, twenty inches long, two inches wide and about a quarter of an inch thick.
I activated the third arm – the one holding the dildo – and Kristin, looking upside down between her legs, must have seen it move, because she started screaming and kicking wildly. “No! Don’t you dare touch me with that!” she shrieked. She relaxed a little when she realized the arm was moving past her. I fully intended to make use of the dildo, but not just yet.
Opening the mechanical fingers, I dropped the dildo on the counter and picked up the plastic scale. It took a little maneuvering to get the hand to hold the scale properly, clutching it near the end and locking the fingers so that a minor flick of the mechanical “wrist” imparted considerable speed and momentum to the heavy scale. Then I moved the arm into position behind and slightly to the side of Kristin’s creamy white ass.
All I knew about spanking I’d learned as a child, bent over the edge of the kitchen table while my mother applied a yardstick to the seat of my jeans or, on a few occasions, to my bared bottom. That had taught me that spankings were both painful and humiliating, and those were precisely the sensations I wanted the ice queen to experience.
I gave the mechanical wrist an experimental flick, and was rewarded with a sharp yelp of pain through the control room speaker. The plastic scale had landed on the left cheek of Kristin’s ass, but it hadn’t bounced away as I thought it would have if I’d been holding the scale in my own hand. I tried a lighter touch, but it was evidently too light, because Kristin didn’t make a sound.
In a matter of minutes, though, I became quite adept, if I say so myself. Each swing of the makeshift paddle resulted in a satisfying yell from Kristin and left another pink blotch on the silky skin of her bottom. I picked up the tempo as I became more confident, and let the scale wander over the backs of her thighs as well as her ass. In almost no time the ice queen was sobbing and begging for the paddling to stop. She hadn’t been spanked as a child, I guessed, or she’d have more endurance.
I responded to her pleas with a blistering flurry of smacks that really covered the target area and had Kristin kicking and screaming. Any effort she might have made earlier to keep her legs closed was abandoned, and the video camera had perfect view of her wet beaver – though it couldn’t have been as wet as mine was!
Then I moved the arm over to the other work surface and laid the scale carefully on the edge of the counter. I picked up the gross-looking dildo and began moving the arm back toward Kristin. She saw it coming and began
shrieking in protest again.
I decided that I enjoyed being the spanker instead of the spankee enough that I could let Kristin decide when she preferred the dildo to the paddle. I dropped the dildo, picked up the plastic scale, and resumed my attack on that perfectly shaped ass.
By that time I was becoming a real virtuoso, and the feeling between my legs was leading me to think that I should take up bare-bottom spanking as a serious hobby, if not a full-time profession. Kristin yelled and begged as I peppered her immobilized butt and flailing thighs with dozens of stinging blows.
Once her ass and the backs of her thighs had turned a nearly uniform shade of crimson, I stopped the spanking and exchanged the scale for the dildo again. Again Kristin protested when she the saw the mechanical fingers grasp the plastic cock, but when I put it down and moved toward the scale, she quickly said “No, no more of that, don’t hit me any more!” She said nothing as I moved the dildo slowly toward her.
The camera had a clear view of Kristin’s pussy but I didn’t, so I halted the arm carrying the dildo a couple of feet away from her, and used the other robot arms to turn her until she was facing almost directly away from me. Then I had to move the camera so that it had essentially the same view I did, and zoomed it to provide a close-up shot.
I wondered suddenly, as I swung the third arm around and thrust the flesh-colored dildo toward Kristin’s glistening cuntlips, if this was how a man felt as he prepared to shove his dick into a woman’s waiting pussy. Too bad, I thought, that the mechanical appendages had no nerves; it would have been a blast to feel what a man feels at the moment of entry.
Kristin groaned as I touched the tip of the dildo against the outer lips of her pussy. I increased the pressure, watching in fascination as her clitoris flattened and her lips spread to surround the enormous phallus. I pushed harder, and Kristin gave a sharp cry as two inches of the ribbed dildo sank out of sight.
From Advanced Biology Lab by Linda Loring.