Robot Spanking Stories
🔞 ALL INFORMATION CLICK HERE 👈🏻👈🏻👈🏻
Robot Spanking Stories
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 Ultimate Archive: Volume 4 at the Flogmaster's Bookstore . Purchase your copy today to encourage the Flogmaster to write more cool stories.
Site contents Copyright ©1995-2020 by the Flogmaster (flogmaster100 at gmail). All Rights Reserved.
You have permission to download these stories for personal use only. No other type of publication of these stories is permitted without written authorization of the Flogmaster.
A professional woman discovers what it's like to be a little girl again. (Approximately 4,262 words. Originally published 2004-01.)
Twenty-nine-year-old Julie Weston, President and CEO of
GummiSoft, the top-notch children's software company she
founded seven years ago, looked nothing like the glamorous
image she'd projected in last month's People Magazine's "50
Most Beautiful People."
Instead of the risque, fetching Versace gown slit down her
navel, she wore faded and torn denim cutoffs and a cheap
T-Shirt with a long-dead high-tech company's logo on it.
Instead of a perfect make-up job with Liquid Rose lipstick
and Blue Sky Number 12 eyeliner, she wore a coating of dust
and cobwebs from head to toe. Instead of her delicate
fingers gripping the stem of a crystal goblet of champagne
as she winked a toast to the reader, she gripped the
scarred and worn leather handle of an ancient trunk as she
dragged it from a dark corner of the filthy attic.
Yet somehow Julie still managed to look stunningly
beautiful. The shorts exposed miles of creamy bare leg and
thigh, and her ass looked amazing bulging through the holes
of the torn cutoffs. The cheap T-Shirt hugged her full
bosom impressively, and the dust and filth just served to
make her look more human and approachable. If a man had
been anywhere around, he would have immediately taken Julie
and kissed her on the mouth. She had that look of
frustrated exhaustion that just demanded a kiss.
Julie was exhausted for good reason: she'd spent the past
day and a half rummaging through all the old junk in her
parent's house. Four days ago her father, after a battle
with prostrate cancer, had finally succumbed to the
inevitable. Julie wasn't particularly moved. She'd been
expecting it for over a year, and she and her father hadn't
been close since the divorce when she was eleven, though
after her mother had died, they kept in touch and
occasionally celebrated Christmas together.
She missed her mother. That was strange, as they had never
gotten along very well. Julie had been bitter about the
divorce and blamed both her parents. She also had hated
that her father got to keep the house and she and her mom
had to move. It was what her mother wanted -- she had
accepted a position at a prestigious law firm in San
Francisco -- but Julie had been devastated to leave all her
friends. It had taken the car accident for Julie to realize
how much she depended on her mother. They may not have been
best friends, but her mother was an intelligent and capable
person, and Julie had incorrectly assumed that level of
advice and support would always be around.
Her mother's advice and comfort was exactly what she needed
right now, during this trying time. The company had gone
public a year ago, and while technically Julie was a very
wealthy person, there was a huge amount of pressure on her
to hand the reins over to a more experienced manager. Julie
had built GummiSoft from nothing and hated the thought of
losing control of her baby, but she knew she had little
business experience and Wall Street demanded top-level
management. Still, she felt her most important assets --
solid technical skills, intimate, almost intuitive
knowledge of the market, and her ability to put together
incredibly advantageous deals -- would serve the company
best. MBAs were a dime a dozen.
Then, in the middle of the battle for her company, her
father passes away. Julie hated leaving Leon in charge
while she cleaned up her father's mess, but something had
drawn her here. She needed this. She needed to rummage
through old memories and put some crap behind her. She was
expert at detecting and following her hunches, and
intuition told her that this was where she needed to be
right now.
The trunk was enormously heavy, and Julie strained with all
her strength to drag it to the middle of the room where the
single bare bulb glowed dully. The lock on the trunk was
rusted, so Julie got a hammer and busted it off. She
couldn't imagine what was in the trunk. She'd already
sorted through most of the books and boxes of rotted
clothing and junk. She hefted open the lid.
Inside, curled in half, feet to nose, was Nanny. Tears
instantly came to Julie's eyes when she saw how horribly
Nanny had been treated. The robot couldn't feel anything,
of course, but it was a shame to see her dusty and
abandoned inside an old trunk.
Memories of a decade of life under the guidance of the
Nannybot flooded Julie's mind. She remembered the wonderful
times: when Nanny had saved her from drowning when she'd
gone into the deep end of the pool even when she'd been
forbidden, or the time Nanny had helped her win the junior
high science fair with her volcano simulation. She also
remembered the painful times, like right after the almost
drowning when Nanny had put her dripping wet over her lap
and paddled her bottom for a quarter hour.
Julie smiled at that. She could remember howling across
Nanny's lap many times, but every single one of those
spankings had been truly well-deserved. Nanny was strict
but always fair, always sorry to have to punish, and wise
enough to know that it was a required duty.
"I missed you, Nanny," Julie said softly, reaching out to
touch the soft, rubber pseudo-skin face. With sudden
inspiration, Julie reached under Nanny's arm and found the
recessed power button. Would Nanny still have power after
all these years? Only one way to find out! She pressed the
button.
For a moment, Julie thought nothing had happened. Then she
heard a faint humming, and then Nanny's eyes snapped open.
Nanny turned her head to face Julie.
"Nannybot number NYJD-69734, reporting for duty.
Self-assessment diagnostic reports low power warning.
Emergency backup power in use. Recharge as soon as
possible."
"The power charger's downstairs," said Julie. "Let's
connect you immediately."
Nanny rotated herself into sitting position and then
scrambled to her feet inside the trunk. She carefully
stepped out. "Where is Mr. Weston?"
"He's no longer with us, I'm afraid," said Julie. "I'm
Julie. Remember me?"
Nanny's expressionless eyes blinked. "Miss Julie? But your
face! It is changed. And you're filthy. Look at you,
covered with dust!"
"If the date of my internal clock is correct, you must be
twenty-nine point three-eight-seven-six years old. I have
not seen you since you were eleven point
eight-four-five-three years old, a difference of
seventeen-point--"
"Enough!" interrupted Julie, leading the robot down the
stairs. "I'm older, we get the picture."
"It is good to see you, Miss Julie. If I had been awake all
these years I would have missed you."
"I missed you, Nanny. You taught me a great deal. I can't
believe my father would just abandon you in a trunk."
Nanny walked to the power receptacle and plugged herself
in. The green "activated" light above the power console
flashed rapidly.
"You were too old to need a Nanny when you left, Miss
Julie. You did not want me to go with you."
Julie frowned. Was there a touch of hurt in the Nannybot's
voice? Surely it wasn't programmed for pain. "I was a silly
child going through difficult times," she said. "I think I
hated the whole world at that time."
"That is not a valid excuse," said Nanny, and there was no
question that her voice had taken on a sterner quality.
"The last thing you said to me was," -- and out of the
robot mouth came a voice recording of Julie at age 11:
"Go away. I HATE you. You're just a big dumb old robot and
don't know ANYTHING. It's YOUR fault Mommy and Daddy are
divorcing. It's YOUR fault I have to leave and move to San
Francisco. You get to stay here with Daddy. It's not fair!
I hate you, hate you, hate you!"
The voice peaked into a shriek and concluded with the
slamming of a door.
Julie collapsed onto a kitchen chair, trembling violently.
Her heart was pounding, and she felt hot and sweaty.
Emotions she hadn't felt in years overwhelmed her. It was
like she was eleven years old again, caught in the middle
of the terrible split of her parents. She felt that
horrible gnawing inside, that feeling of being torn in two
directions: she loved both her Mommy and her Daddy and
couldn't imagine life with only one of them. Rage and guilt
and terrible, terrible fear flooded over her, and suddenly,
without any warning or prompting, Julie burst into tears.
Instantly, Nanny unplugged herself. She was at Julie's
side, pressing the little girl's head to her belly and
whispering comforting words. "There, there," she said
gently. "You just cry and let it out. You're in a great
deal of pain, I can see that. Mommy and Daddy didn't mean
to hurt you, you know that. But they were often selfish,
during those times, thinking only of themselves."
Julie sniffed back tears and wiped her face with her arm.
"Oh, thank you, Nanny! You were always so kind to me. I
missed you so much when we moved!"
"I know, dear. I know you didn't mean it when you told me
you hated me and to go away."
Julie began to cry again. "I'm sorry, so sorry. I never
should have spoken to you like that. You were my only
friend during that horrible time and I... I treated you
like shit!"
Nanny started. "Miss Julie! How dare you use such language!
I shall have wash your mouth out with soap."
Julie smiled through her tears. "Very funny, Nanny. I
didn't know your humor chip included joking."
"It doesn't," answered the robot grimly, grabbing Julie's
arm and guiding her to her feet. She began pull the woman
toward the kitchen sink. "You know your father programmed
me to watch your foul mouth, and you know what the
consequences are."
"But Nanny," gasped Julie, as they reached the sink and
Nanny grabbed the bar of Ivory soap. "You can't! I'm almost
thirty years old!"
"What does age have to do with your naughty behavior?" said
the robot. "When you are bad, you are punished. Age is
irrelevant. Now accept your punishment like a big girl."
"Arrgughgh!" groaned a shocked and horrified Julie as the
soap was rammed into her mouth. She struggled violently and
pushed at the soap with her tongue, but that just meant she
tasted more of the soap. She began to gag slightly, and
then remembered that struggling always made mouth-washings
worse. She relaxed a bit, tears stinging her eyes, and
breathed heavily through her nose, glaring at the robot.
Julie shook her head. All the horrors of mouth-washings
when she was a child came back to her. Biting coated your
teeth with a soapy film that meant you tasted soap for
hours. No way!
Without hesitation, Nanny yanked Julie forward so she was
bending over the sink and walloped Julie's butt twice with
her hard palm.
Julie yelped, stunned, and tried to turn to hide her
bottom. But Nanny was in total control. Julie could hardly
move.
"Bite!" ordered Nanny. The command was followed by two more
hard whacks, flooding Julie's bottom with a warm stinging.
She squirmed, the feeling bringing back powerful memories
of spankings from the robot.
"Heas!" she mumbled through the soap, eyes welling with
fresh tears. That got her a half dozen crackers then, and
it was too much. Weeping, Julie bit into the soap. She
pulled her lips back so Nanny could see that she had
finally obeyed, and Nanny nodded. After a few minutes that
dragged on forever for the bewildered CEO, Nanny allowed
Julie to spit out the soap.
"Bleeggg! That's horrible! I can't believe you did that,
Nanny! Now look here, no more of that. I'm not a little
girl and I don't need my mouth washed out with soap or my
fanny spanked, you got that?"
"It sounds to me like that's exactly what you need," said
Nanny. "I can only assume it has been seventeen point
four-four-two-seven years since your last spanking and you
have forgotten a great deal about being a good little
girl."
"But I'm NOT a little girl you stupid hunk of tin! I'm the
head of one of the largest software companies in the
world!"
Nanny's eyes did not change expression, though her lips
turned down at the corner. "You are a naughty little girl,"
she said sternly. "And you are not permitted to speak to
your Nanny in that tone of voice."
Julie let out a screech of protest as Nanny grabbed her
around the waist and dragged her into the living room. The
scene was all to familiar to her: she knew when Nanny
picked her up in that manner that she was in for a
spanking. Childish terror filled Julie and she squealed and
kicked and hammered Nanny's steel back with her fists.
"Noooo! Stop! I ORDER you to stop, right now!"
"You know I am programmed to only accept orders from your
mother or father," said Nanny. "My prime directive is to
protect, educate, and discipline you with the standards
your father set. Obviously, you are in desperate need of a
spanking. You always protested the most when the spanking
was most needed."
Julie was too terrified to even scream. The thought had
flashed through her head that the robot was insane, or
malfunctioning. Surely seventeen plus years in a trunk with
no maintenance wasn't good for a robot! The robot was going
to spank her like a child and there was nothing Julie could
do about it.
Sitting on the old, familiar couch, Nanny hauled Julie -- a
larger, more mature Julie -- over her lap. Julie couldn't
help but feel tremendous deja vue as she lay there, her
face nestled in a sofa cushion. "Oh my God," she kept
thinking. "This can't be happening, this can't be real!"
But it was real. Painfully real. She realized that seconds
later as a steel robot hand began to pound into her
backside. The pain wasn't that bad, not as bad as she
remembered. But it was humiliating and ridiculous -- she
was an adult woman for crying out loud -- and she felt so
helpless. All she could do was cry as her bottom grew
warmer.
The spanking went on and on. How long did Nanny plan to
spank her? This seemed much longer than any childhood
spanking she'd received.
Then Julie remembered. Nanny was programmed to spank _all_
of a girl's bottom. That was part of her criteria for
judging when a naughty girl had been properly punished.
Well naturally the adult Julie had much larger bottom than
eleven-year-old Julie, so the spanking would be much more
extensive. Suddenly another horrified thought struck the
woman: Nanny always began a spanking over clothing, but
finished by smacking Julie's bare butt. Surely the robot
wouldn't do that now, not to an adult, fully mature woman?
But even as she remembered that horrible scenario, Nanny
stopped the spanking, lifted Julie up and began to unfasten
Julie's shorts.
"Nooo!" cried Julie. "Please, I'll be good! Don't spank my
bare bottom, I promise I'll be good!"
"Hush now, Miss Julie," said the implacable robot, yanking
the shorts downward. "You know as well as I do that a
proper spanking is always done on the bare bottom. I've
just warmed you up so far."
"Ohhhh," moaned Julie as her panties followed her shorts.
She was naked from the waist down now, her bottom rosy and
warm. The air against her bare skin felt cool and alive,
like a presence enveloping her.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! The robot's hand was heavy and Nanny
was incredibly strong, but every blow was precisely the
same force: a nice solid blow, not hard enough to
permanently injure, but definitely leaving a sharp sting.
Julie cooed and kicked her legs frantically, trying to
escape the intense stinging. Nanny just continued to spank
at the same steady rate. Slowly Julie's butt turned hot
pink, then dark crimson. It was really hurting now, really
quite painful. A dim panic began to fill her. How long
would this spanking last? Surely her bottom was roasted by
now!
Then the spanking stopped. And Julie heard the most
horrible sound in the world. There was a whirling and
clicking and Julie looked over her shoulder and saw, sure
enough, Nanny's hand disappearing into her wrist. A second
later a flat-backed wooden hairbrush emerged in place of
the hand. Julie screamed.
"Yes, we need to use the hairbrush," said Nanny sternly.
"You need a good sharp lesson."
"Oh please," gasped Julie, her heart drumming furiously.
"Can't we talk about this?"
"You may talk while I spank you, if you wish."
"No! Please, you can't! I've been spanked enough. My ass is
on fire!"
There was a loud THWACK! as the back of the brush walloped
Julie's butt. She howled in pain, struggling violently.
THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!
"Calm down," said the robot. "If you do not relax and
accept your paddling, I shall start the punishment over
from the beginning."
"WAIT! STOP! Oh please," moaned Julie. The hairbrush was
horrible, actually _worse_ than she remembered. It put in a
pain deep down, down into the muscles of her buttocks.
Desperately, she sought a compromise. "Look, I'll take a
hairbrush spanking, but not too many, okay? That's fair,
right? How many were you planning to give me?"
"A standard hairbrushing is three times the child's age."
Julie's heart froze in mid-beat. "That's... that's nearly
NINETY swats!" she yelled. "You can't do that. That would
kill me!"
"It would not, Miss Julie. I detect you are in excellent
health. Your blood pressure is up slightly and your
heartbeat is faster than normal, but those are typical
biochemical responses to a spanking."
"But I'm not a child any more," moaned Julie. "It's
inappropriate to spank me that much!"
The robot seemed to think for a second. "Since you are not
a child, perhaps you ought to be spanked harder," she said.
"Nooo! That's not what I meant at all."
"It is irrelevant," said the robot. "I shall comply with my
programming."
And then Julie descended into hell. The brush was wide,
heavy, and incredibly painful. It smacked her hard, fast,
and nothing she did alleviated the pain. In moments she was
sobbing like she hadn't sobbed in decades. Her buttocks
swelled and steamed and she could have sworn there were
blisters -- there HAD to be.
The spanking went forever. On and on and on. Julie had no
i
Nude Beach Video
Incest S**********
Asstraffic.Com