Chapter 05 - The Machine

Driving down the country road, memories of the first time he spanked me flood my mind. It feels like a lifetime ago, even though it's only been three years. Snapping my attention back to the road, I see the trees and fencing letting me know I'm almost there. Turning down his long driveway, the foliage obstructs my view of the house. However, as I round the bend, the white two-story farmhouse comes into sight; I wonder if there are paintings and postcards of it as it's so picture-perfect. The pristine white exterior stands out against the lush green landscape.

The house seamlessly integrates its two stories with its wrap-around porch, showcasing a harmonious architectural style. Adorned with windows, it welcomes natural light to illuminate the interior and accentuate the house's charm. Catching a glimpse of the upper floor, partially visible from the outside, adds to my excitement, as I am aware of the privacy it offers.

Near the house is a large barn; its bright red paint draws my attention; Ben told me the first time I came over that the building was off-limits, leaving me curious about its concealed contents.

Parking my mini and stepping out, I take in the peacefulness of the surroundings. I fell in love with this place the first time I visited it. The absence of visible neighbors adds to the tranquility, as the bushes, trees, and a small forest just beyond the wooden fence shield the property from view.

Going up the stairs, I ring the doorbell, which, like mine, also has a camera. John answers, barely giving me a glance in my near see-through outfit, and points toward the back of the house. Following his direction, I reach the rear, where I spot Ben cleaning the pool.

I open the glass door and ensure it closes loudly enough not to startle him, and he accidentally ends up in the pool. I shudder at the thought of the punishment that would entail; I doubt I could survive it.

Ben turns around upon hearing the noise and breaks into a broad, almost comical grin. Setting the pool cleaner aside, he opens his arms as I rush towards him, jumping up so I can wrap my legs around him. His unknown aftershave was a familiar smell reminding me how much I missed him and was happy he was back.

"You must be wondering why I'm home early, hmm?" he asks playfully. I respond with a soft "Yes, sir," prompting a chuckle from him as he wasn't due to come home for another month, so this weekend was a complete surprise. He assures me it's good news and will share the details later. "First, let's get you settled. Have you been practicing your splits?" he asks. Remembering how I struggled to touch my toes just a few years ago, compared to now effortlessly placing my hands on the ground during a full split, whether in front/back or to the side, I happily nod and reply, "Yes, sir."

"Good, let me get you situated while I finish a few things" With me still in his arms and my legs wrapped around him, he carried me up the stairs and into the large open porch outside his bedroom. I had never seen a large wooden table in the middle of the porch. The wood slab has hooks all around the edges, large screw holes, and a hole off-center the size of a small dinner plate.

Setting me on the ground, he lifts the dress off me and removes my sandals, leaving me naked except for the chastity belt. He lifts me back up and gently places me at the table's edge, allowing my legs to hang over the side. He momentarily leaves me and moves toward a nearby table, concealing its contents from my view. When he returns, he carries wide leather cuffs, their inner lining soft against my skin. He proceeds to attach the cuffs to my wrists and ankles, ensuring they are secure. Getting two more items, he places a thick collar around my neck and a second around my waist. He retrieves a key from his pocket, removing the chastity belt. He then turns me around while I'm sitting on the table so I face the center, my back toward him.

He requests that I spread my legs as wide as possible, a task I can accomplish thanks to countless hours of practice. As I comply, I watch him attaching clips to both ankles, preventing me from further closing my legs. He then guides me to lie on the table, extending my arms outward and securing them to the table in a straight line parallel to my legs. Just beyond my hands are grips available for me to hold onto. As I settle into position, I realize that my face fits perfectly into a hole on the table, surrounded by a soft leather cushion. He fastens both sides of my neck collar and the one around my waist to the table, ensuring I am securely attached.

I can feel him screwing thick metal pieces beneath my armpits and at the bend of my hips, effectively preventing upward or downward movement. Then, he uses a leather strap and attaches it to the metal pieces near my hips, securing my lower back and hips tightly to the table.

The straps are tightened enough to restrict any movement in my pelvic area but not so tight as to cause discomfort. Ben momentarily walks away, returning with something in his hand, and I sense him gently brushing my messy hair. Once he has smoothed it out, he loosely braids it before wrapping it into a casual bun, using a hair tie that was likely left behind during one of my previous visits.

As I lie on the table, completely immobilized and exposed to the cool air of the open porch, my senses are heightened, and my mind is focused on my current predicament. The gentle breeze caresses my skin, reminding me of my vulnerable position and intensifying my awareness of every sensation. The combination of physical restraint and the anticipation of what is to come keeps me captivated. The weather outside becomes a mere backdrop to the intense emotions and sensations that I am experiencing in the present moment.

As I lay there, my attention is drawn to the small table within my sight line. On it rests an iPad, and the screen goes from black to displaying a live camera feed capturing different angles of my stretched-out body. The views alternate between a comprehensive overhead shot, a rearview showcasing my exposed sex, and a close-up focused on my buttocks and pussy. The high-definition clarity of the images reveals the wetness beginning to trickle down my lips, intensifying my arousal.

The continuous switching between the camera views and the occasional side-by-side display keeps me captivated and constantly aware of my vulnerable position. I can't help but feel excitement and embarrassment, knowing that if anyone were to be in the backyard, they would have a clear and unobstructed view of my restrained body.

As I watch the screen, I see a dildo attached to a short pole and a smaller one on a separate bar connected to some machine. My body is bound tightly to the table with no means of escape or resistance. I am acutely aware of my vulnerability and helplessness, unable to do anything but watch as he secures the equipment to the table using additional screws and bolts.

My attention is drawn back to him as he approaches, carrying a small tube of lubricant in his hand. I feel nervous as he applies the lube to my buttocks and then between my already moistened lips. The slippery sensation of his fingers on my sensitive areas elicits a short gasp, and the fleeting touch leaves me yearning for more. But before I can fully savor the sensation, his fingers are gone, leaving me craving further stimulation.

I watch as the dildo is positioned just behind me, aligned with my openings, as he carefully guides the dildo inside me, filling me up completely. Simultaneously, the smaller dildo enters my secondary hole, intensifying the sensations coursing through my body.

I watch him press some buttons on the machine, then feel both dildos move in a rhythmic motion in and out of me, sometimes alternating their thrusts, other times moving in sync. The dual stimulation sends waves of pleasure through me, building up the momentum towards a release that I can feel on the cusp of fruition. However, just as the intensity begins to peak, the movement stops, leaving me yearning for more.

I watch him on the screen as he adds more lube to my backside, allowing it to trickle down my exposed crack, heightening the sensations and increasing the slippery glide. My body, craving release, is left hanging in a state of anticipation as he steps away, "Cum as many times as you can; just don't run off anywhere" his playful joke causes him to chuckle as he does a couple of soft pats on my ass and walks away out of my view.

Being able to watch myself live is a new sensation. Ben had never done anything like this before, with the closest being watching a video afterward of one of our encounters. Each time he has played back videos of our playtime, I have found them highly erotic, preferring them to the porn he's introduced me to when we watch together on video calls.

On the large screen that is only a foot or so away from my face, I watch and feel the dildo enter me; and feel it vibrating inside me as the smaller one slowly moves in and out of the other hole rubbing the delicate skin. Just as an orgasm form, they both reset and stop moving.

Feeling frustrated, I remember his words, "Cum as many times as you can" Cum if I can?!? He set the machine so I can't; it stops before putting me over. Just as I think this, the smaller one enters me and starts to vibrate while the larger one speeds up and goes in and out of my pussy faster, causing me to pant and moan. The orgasm starts to build again, this time going a bit further. I can feel the release just beyond my reach when both stop again. I scream in frustration that this is unfair and please come back, but my cries are not answered, leaving me to watch myself get penetrated repeatedly with no relief or release.

I don't know how much time has passed; the active and inactive machine seems to have grown longer each time, or my impatience has. Each time it starts, I try to wiggle closer to it, but it is a fruitless effort; between the cuffs and the metal under my arms and at my hips, I can't move in any direction. My frustration has made me even more horny, and my moans of despair are louder when it stops each time, leaving me on edge.

I hear footsteps and see Ben coming into the frame. He stands behind me and watches as the machine starts back up; it's alternating between the holes moving faster and faster, and right when the momentum builds, it stops and pulls out of me. I moan, making my frustration blatant.

"So... how do you like your punishment?" Confused, he reminds me that I orgasmed several times without his permission a few days ago, and this was only part of the punishment. He goes on to say that I have two options, he can un-strap me now and get me cleaned up as dinner is almost ready, but I would not be allowed to cum the entire weekend, or he can spank me ten times; with me counting, and he would allow the machine to finish the job.

Ben knew how much I didn't like spanking, but it was one of the things he enjoyed the most; they always came up when a punishment was warranted, which kept me in line as I never wanted to cause him to spank me. Being so horny and not knowing if he would later grant release, I said, "Please spank me, Sir," softly, as I didn't want to be spanked, but he was right even though he permitted me to wear a butt plug he didn't give any further permission. It was a weird game, Simon says, or in this case, Ben says.

I watch him slowly remove his belt from his waist, his preferred choice in spanking instruments, as he always had one waiting to make my ass red. He taps my bottom lightly and says he can't hear me. I try to speak louder, "Please spank me, Sir." He says, "Say it like I mean it; otherwise, I will leave you here for the night."

Thinking of laying here all night, being tormented by the machine, and never being able to cum, I practically shout, "Ben, please spank me; I want you to spank me as hard as you can!" I close my eyes tightly and brace for the incoming impact, but nothing happens.

I then feel him rubbing my sex, which causes me to moan at his touch. He tells me not to close my eyes; he wants me to watch him and see how red my ass will be. With that, I open my eyes and watch him move his arm high behind me and for the belt to come down on my unprotected ass.

SMACK

I scream in pain which comes as a shock even though I was able to see it happening. My ass is already on fire, with nine more to go. "One, Sir," I almost yell, trying to find some way to feel better as I have nowhere to go. The next swing comes, and the belt almost hits the spot where the wide leather previously had. "Two, sir," I say with a choked breath, tears starting to run down my face and nose, landing on the iPad screen. This continues each time the leather hits me, each feeling more vicious as his aim is near perfect. I grip the handles as that is the only movement I'm allowed.

He has turned the machine back on and added more lube to my rear entrance. Each is going in simultaneously, vibrating and slowly moving in and out of me, but I can feel them going faster.

SMACK

I didn't see it coming. I was focusing on the machine and not watching what Ben was doing. I screamed as loud as I had ever screamed, causing me to lose my breath. I remembered to say, "6, Sir," the machine is going faster. Now I can feel the orgasm building when the belt comes down for the seventh time. My concentration has switched from the pain caused by the belt to how good the dildos sliding in and out of me feel. "7, sir" The strap comes down again, but it doesn't hurt as bad as my concentration is focused on the orgasm and willing it into existence. "8, sir"

When the belt comes down next, my body explodes in pleasure. The release is so great I feel like I'm having an out-of-body experience watching me thrash in my binding, the cuffs and straps causing me to entirely focus on my body as there is nothing I can do to either help or stop the rolls and rolls of pleasure radiating through my body. I weakly say, "9, sir," when the belt comes down again. I thought I was exploding in pleasure before, but this one felt like a supernova. I can see myself on the screen as I squirt: the spray landing on the machine behind me, going what I think is maxed speed. I feel my pussy finely hitting the penultimate in pleasure. "10, sir, please spank me again... please again," I beg with snot and tears landing on the screen. It feels so good that I want more.

SMACK

SMACK

SMACK

I go completely silent as I lose the ability to speak, think, and breathe, as the only thing that exists is the pleasure of nirvana. The waves of pleasure radiate from my core. The universe is trying to rewrite my DNA to make pain pleasurable. Something Ben has been trying to teach me for years.

When I finally remember I need to breathe, I find that Ben has almost unhooked all of the cuffs from the table and is working at sitting me up. My body is stiff from being stretched out and immobile for so long; I lean limply on him as my brain-to-body connection isn't firing correctly yet.

He has a soft blanket that he wraps around me and holds me in his arms. He whispers how good I am, how happy I make him, and other whispers that make me feel safe and loved. He removes the cuffs from my ankles and hips but does not attempt to remove the thick collar from my neck or wrists as he continues whispering to me.

The pain from the spanking starts to throb, and I can feel each tread of fabric touching my skin; a soft breeze would be too much as my butt is on fire. Ben picks me up and carries me into the main bathroom, where his tub awaits me. He sets my feet on the ground removing the blanket, and helps me step into the almost too-hot water.

The bathtub had a unique feature: its remarkable depth allowed me to submerge almost to my chin while sitting. It was placed inside a tiled basin with two steps, providing a platform to sit on before entering. Since my last visit, new hooks had been installed - two positioned at the back where my head would rest, and two more on each side, just outside the porcelain embedded in the tile. These hooks had short chains attached to them.

As I leaned back into the tub, Ben grabbed the chains from behind and clipped them onto the sides of my collar. Then, he secured my wrists into the awaiting chains on either side. Observing my situation, I realized I was floating in the tub; the hooks kept my head steady, and the thick collar added stability.

He said he had added oil and rose water to soothe my newly bruised skin. He didn't want me to try touching myself with my free hands, fearing it might lead to further punishment, so they were chained to each side of the tub.

After switching off the bathroom light, I was drawn to several candles in the room, releasing a delightful aroma of sweet lavender. A sense of safety enveloped me, and I couldn't help but release a satisfied sigh. With a conscious effort, I commanded my muscles to relax, feeling the tension dissipate. As the adrenaline ebbed away, drowsiness overcame me. I took comfort in knowing that Ben had expertly positioned me in the bathtub, ensuring no risk of submerging beneath the waterline. With closed eyes, I peacefully succumbed to sleep.