The story begins here.
The masochism test had gone quite well. Melanie had passed it reasonably well, although she couldn’t speak for Mr. Hanagan who took his sweet time releasing her from the spanking bench. Now she found herself strapped down to another bench, this one being the bench of a spanking machine while its operator loaded a belt in each of it’s high-powered spanking rotors.
This circumstance began when Mr. Hanagan mentioned to Kristy Haventhorpe that he’d hired a whipping girl for his daughters. Kristy, being of a more conservative bent, eyed him with a slight smile.
“Ah, interesting,” she’d said. “We went the opposite way, kind of. We bought a spanking machine for our home.”
Mr. Hanagan’s eyebrows raised. He hadn’t thought of going that route. It’s counterintuitive if your goal is not to have your daughters spanked. But if you do feel like they need to be spanked, then a spanking machine might be just the ticket. You can set it and forget it. You don’t have to deal with the pleading or the feeling guilty or the counting… You don’t have to decide when is enough. Most of them come with presets these days, programmed to match various punishment circumstances. You just had to input the age, gender, weight and physical fitness level of the one to punish. A display of a range of suggestions and a recommendation for which was best then showed up waiting to have it’s button pressed.
The question now before Mr. Hanagan was which strategy was better – having his daughters feel the guilt of watching their whipping girl take their punishments for them or actually having a spanking machine to put them into and where he could “set it and forget it”. He was leaning towards keeping the whipping girl, because he assumed it might be somewhat of a hardship for her to lose the job she had just acquired. So he decided to discuss the situation with Melanie. She eventually convinced him that she was the better choice because guilt is a much stronger force than pain. But he was still doubtful and decided that a contest was in order.
He would pick a hypothetical crime, program it into the spanking machine, get it’s recommendation, and then have his whipping girl take the punishment. If she begged out or promised to behave during the punishment, he would know that the spanking machine was stronger than her and she would lose her job. Melanie didn’t feel like there was much choice but to accept the challenge. Besides, it would be a valuable thing to put on her whipping girl resume – “Experience taking spanking machine punishment”. Anyone hiring such a whipping girl, who also happens to own a spanking machine, would then know that she doesn’t have to spend her valuable time actually whipping the girl.
Mr. Hanagan input the crime of underage drinking and driving. Melanie, Whipping Girl looked at him and said, “Seriously? Why not just put in ‘armed robbery’ or ‘murder’ and have the machine spank me into a hospital stay?”
Mr. Hanagan responded that this crime was actually perpetrated by one of his daughters last year. He input 17 as an age, 150 lbs as the weight (taking the average weight of his daughters along with the whipping girl), and ‘athletic’ as the fitness level. The recommendation was for 220 strokes with a belt, no pants, underwear optional. Whipping Girl gulped and rubbed her bottom reflexively. She also frowned a bit, which was very cute.
Kristy Haventhorpe generously allowed Mr. Hanagan use of her spanking machine for this experiment. She let them in and went off to run errands. Whipping Girl took down her jeans and bent over the bench. Having seen her strapped to a spanking bench before, he began strapping her in himself, feeling quite handy and practical. Kristy had been right about how easy the fresh leather belts were to load into the spinning spankers. This one was a good brand. Melanie was bent at a 90 degree angle. The height of the bench was adjustable for hip height, so he raised the bench a bit for her taller stature. As she bent over the bench, strapped down, the heels of her feet just touched the floor. She tugged at her wrists straps as she stared at them in front of her, realizing she was about to get the most severe belting she’d ever received.
Once the rotating spankers were loaded with the leather belts and calibrated for optimum striking angle, Mr. Hanagan pressed the button to start the spanking.
The motorized spankers began to whir and a low whoosh sound went through the air as the first one swung it’s belt into Whipping Girl’s panty-clad bottom. She sucked in her breath and her eyes widened. She hadn’t expected that the strokes would hurt this much. Within another two seconds she felt another lashing spank as the other spanker did it’s job.
And thus it proceeded. The rate never changed. Every two seconds – WHAP! And like any good orchestration, the cries issued forth from Whipping Girl’s pouty, frowning mouth that followed those WHAPs, began softly and then steadily grew louder and more plaintive. And within that pattern, the nature of her cries changed. At times they got higher pitched. At other times they became more guttural as if she were straining against something. After about 130 spanks with those belts, her cries no longer punctuated so much as provided a auditory overlay of pained crying.
But she never begged off and she never promised to be good. Of course she hadn’t done anything to be punished for. This was only a test. But so many seem to forget that and will promise anything if given enough pain. Whipping Girl simply cried and took it, which was her way. She didn’t focus on how red and bruised her bottom was becoming. That might make her lose her control and begin to beg. The pain, however, was something she couldn’t help but think about. It permeated her mind to the point where all she could think was “please, please, please…” and of course, “OWWW!!!”.
Her bottom was turning deeper and deeper shades of red and since most of her bottom was visible, one could see an area of rectangular shaped bruising across the center of both cheeks. Minute variations in the angle of the spanking caused a 2 inch wide strap to make a 5 inch tall bruise. As the belt spanks reached past 200, Melanie, now somewhat high on endorphins lay her head down on the bench, red-faced with tears streaming down her cheeks.
The machine stopped after 220 strokes with its belts and Mr. Hanagan unbound Whipping Girl. She pushed herself up from the bench and tried to stand up right away, but she was woozy and fell into Mr. Hanagan’s arms. He was caught off guard at first, holding this young woman to his chest with her not having pants on and all. But he knew at that moment that she needed holding and care. So he provided it to her. This would be no problem; just being a decent person. Melanie hugged him tightly around the abdomen and he stroked her hair as she whimpered. He was really looking forward to when he could have her pull her pants up, but other than that he felt right giving her this care. Then he imagined for a moment one of his daughters coming from such a spanking. He couldn’t live with doing that to them. It was good that Whipping Girl had won the challenge.
He looked down at her and faced her towards him by putting a finger under chin. “You did very well today. I want you to know. You took all that spanking and never once begged off or promised to do better.”
She smiled and looked down. As she composed herself, she reached down and pulled up her pants. As they slid over her bottom she winced and frowned.
Mr. Hanagan watched Melanie button her pants and something occurred to him.
“Hmmm… You took all that spanking and never once begged off or promised to do better,” he said. Melanie did not like the look in his eyes.
“Mr. Hanagan, wait. What are you thinking? Stop thinking. No,” she said.
It was too late. He was smiling.
“I’ll buy the spanking machine and keep you as well. Then when my daughters need punishing…” he started.
“No no no no no no…” said Melanie. “Please don’t…”
“I’ll put you in the spanking machine first, so they can feel the guilt…” he said.
“Ah GEEZ!” Melanie said.
Mr. Hanagan finished, “..and then I’ll put them in it as well.”
Melanie rubbed her bottom and looked at the machine. She really wanted a drink…