Background: This is about Tyler Kyte, the teenaged co-host of the syndicated show Popular Mechanics for Kids. Someone requested this and I looked him up. I'd not seen the show myself, but after seeing some stills, had to check it out. The show is a bit over the top, but the enthusiasm of Tyler and the others makes it well worth watching. As usual, this story was posted first to my website linked about and the story there containes appropriate stills taken from the show.
"This is just, awesome, isn't it?" Tyler Kyte gushed to the camera as he swung his arms wildly around, "The home of the future! Can't you just wait until your house is like this?"
Keeping to his mark, he walked to the left and pointed at a humming machine that was moving slowly across the floor.
"This vacuum cleaner has been programmed to clean this entire floor by itself! And you don't need to worry about it bumping into anything, because it's optic sensors pick up any obstructions and send a message to it's central processing system. Then it just goes around them! It can even extend its arm to clean under couches up to two feet!"
The camera panned down as on cue the high tech vacuum preformed on cue. Tyler really didn't understand quite how it did this, but all he had to do was read the lines. There was a large base section about 2 ½ foot square that did the main vacuuming and then there were two arms that went out from it to get the cracks and under tables.
The cameraman finished shooting and Mr. Harris called to cut. The machine was still going and Tyler was hit with a sudden urge. Before he gave it a moment's thought, he jumped up on top of the machine and got a ride as it went to the other side of the room.
At lest, the other side of the room was where it was heading. Before it threw out a arc of sparks and started to smoke like crazy, that is.
"Tyler!" Mr. Harris shouted, but he had already jumped off. The prototype vacuum cleaner was making a high-pitched whine and the operator came over and franticly shut it off.
"This isn't a child's toy!" the operator said, giving Mr. Harris a nasty look.
"I know, we'll pay for any damage," he said, glaring at Tyler.
"I'm sorry," Tyler said, trying to sound penitent but not quite succeeding.
"I've had it with you playing the fool on the set, Tyler!" Mr. Harris said. "When are you going to stop with your stupid stunts?"
Tyler's stupid stunts were what kept him amused during the long shoots, but he didn't think it diplomatic to say so right then. He just gave his usual lines about how he'd restrain himself and Mr. Harris quieted down. The fact that the vacuum operator reported that there was only a blown fuse probably helped. The crew broke to set up for the next segment and so Tyler went back to his area of the set. More than once, he'd wished for a trailer or dressing room, but since so often the show was on location, they had never wanted the extra expense. Anyway, this desk was better than nothing. Realizing that he still needed to learn his lines for the next segment, Tyler got out his script. He was so tired, though. Before even opening it, he decided to put his head down and take a short nap. It would be much easier remembering lines with a clear head. He'd open his eyes in fifteen minutes and do what he needed to do. What was fifteen minutes....
....fifteen minutes....
"Tyler?"
"Tyler, wake up!"
"Tyler!"
Tyler lifted his head up with a sudden start. Someone was shaking him awake. What time was it, anyway?
"Tyler, where have you been?" Elisha said. "Everyone is waiting for you on the set! Mr. Harris is pissed at you!"
"Um, I feel asleep," Tyler mumbled. He couldn't seem to wake himself up properly.
"Well, you better get out there. Mr. Harris is making all kinds of noise about the extra money you cost this morning with that stunt you pulled and how unprofessional you've been acting lately. You better get your act together or he's going to do something."
"_s_h_i_t_!" Tyler swore. Mr. Harris was a patient man. If he'd been complaining where other people could hear him, he must really be pissed at him. He'd better get out there and bust butt. Shaking his head in an unsuccessful attempt to clear the cobwebs, he trotted down the corridor to the set.
The crew was standing around, obviously waiting for him. The set had been rearranged to resemble a futuristic basement and was dominated by some large contraption in the middle of the room. Not having read his scrip, Tyler had no idea what it could possibly be and looking at it didn't help much. There was a section that appeared to be a padded mat of some sort. There was even a headrest of some kind at the end, but it was too short by half for anyone to lie on. The rest of it was various metal bars hinged in all kinds of places and wires all coming out from a central block that Tyler guessed must hold some sort of motor.
Tyler looked over at the director. Mr. Harris was pointedly tapping his watch and was giving him a very unpleasant look.
"I'm sorry," Tyler said, "I fell asleep while learning my lines. Can we use the cue cards, please?"
Normally Mr. Harris discouraged his young stars from reading their lines while shooting. He claimed that it never looked natural, but this time he made no objection. Tyler was kind of surprised considering the mood the man was in, but perhaps he just wanted to get the thing wrapped. Tyler went over to his mark and everyone fell silent.
"And....Action!" Mr. Harris said.
"Of course," Tyler read from the cards, "in the home of the future, things might still go wrong. And if things get out of hand, well, hey, let me demonstrate!"
The next card was a non-verbal cue to take off his shirt. This didn't bother him in the slightest as he was actually very proud of his body and didn't mind showing it off, but he was still totally confused as to what he was supposed to be demonstrating. He wished he'd read his lines through at least once, even if he hadn't memorized them. This was flying blind.
In no time, he had his shirt off and read the next one. He was to go over to the contraption and pull on a lever to turn it on. Because on of the technical guys was pointing at it, he had no problem identifying it. He gave it a yank and the machine hummed to life.
"Activating," said a disembodied metallic male voice from the machine.
"Cool!" Tyler improvised.
The next card was a bit more confusing. He was supposed to lay on the pad with the front part of his body while placing his feet on the platform on the floor. Keeping up his frantic chatter, he followed the instructions. His bare chest was resting on the sticky plastic covering and his feet were inside two six-inch deep indentations on the platform.
"Scanning," the machine informed him. Looking over his shoulder, he saw an arm come out and then swing slowly over his body.
"State of the art sensing equipment is now sweeping over me," he read, "measuring the exact contours of my body. This only takes thirty seconds!"
The camera panned the procedure and Tyler lay very still until it was done. He didn't know what was coming next, but figured he'd soon find out.
"Restraining," the machine said in its same, flat voice. The word took a moment to register in Tyler's brain and by the time it had, he felt padded metal claps wrap around his ankles and wrists. In less than five seconds, he'd been mostly immobilized. This was going too far. It was time to come clean to Mr. Harris that he'd not read the script and had no idea what was happening here.
"Ummm, cut, please?" he said. "Can we stop?"
"What's the problem, Tyler?" Mr. Harris asked, though the boy noticed that he did not stop the cameras.
"Well, um, I didn't actually look over the script for this part," he admitted. "I really don't know what I'm supposed to be doing here and if it's okay, I'd like to take five to get up to speed."
"Actually, Tyler, you don't have to do anything for this part except to read your lines and you've been doing a good job of that with the cue cards. I'd like to keep going."
Tyler wanted to protest, but the best thing seemed to be to go along, so he swallowed his objections. He started to read the next card.
"Now that the machine had my body's shape stored in its computer, it's time for the next step," he said. "Using technology originally designed for the robot arm on the space shuttle, it will now...."
"Oh, ha-ha, very funny, guys," he said. The line had finished with the words, 'pull my pants down.'
"Just read the line, Tyler," Mr. Harris told him. "Then I'll explain everything to you, I promise."
Tyler had a very uneasy feeling, but he swallowed it and put back on his hyperactive personality.
"Now that the machine had my body's shape stored in its computer, it's time for the next step," he repeated. "Using technology originally designed for the robot arm on the space shuttle, it will now pull my pants down!"
Despite having read the line, Tyler was none the less surprised to find the machine actually doing what he had just predicted it would. One of the bars swung out and went underneath him. The camera had zoomed up on it and he watched it in the video monitor. It latched on to the front of his jeans, undid his belt and unsnapped them. Then it seemed like a magnet was pulling down his zipper!
"What is going on, here!" he asked, breaking out of character.
"Just keep shooting," Mr. Harris said. "Focus on his middle, we'll dub over him later."
With Tyler bleating in protest, the robot arm moved behind him and latched on to the back of his jeans. With a steady hum, it started to tug down on them. With a hot blush of embarrassment, he watched on the monitor as his jeans came down, leaving only his white cotton briefs to cover himself. After depositing his pants around his shackled ankles, the arm moved back over to the machine.
"You see, Tyler," Mr. Harris was saying, "I've been having too many problems with you lately. I'd told your agent that I was considering replacing you despite the fact that you're popular with our viewers. He urged me to try something else and so we came up with this."
"This," Mr. Harris continued as he indicated the contraption, "is the prototype of a spanking machine. It was designed primarily for use in Asian countries where corporal punishment is still used in the legal system. It's supposed to take the guesswork out of it. Anyway, it seemed something that might be useful in our Home of the Future, so I had him bring it over and set it up. Now it's going to be demonstrated on you!"
Had he been free, Tyler would have run out of the room, but that plainly wasn't an option. He tried in vain to free himself, all the while begging for Mr. Harris not to do this to him.
"What I'm holding," Mr. Harris said, showing Tyler a black plastic box, "is the control for the device. "There are only a couple of buttons, but the only one that you need concern yourself with it this one. The severity dial. If you corporate, I'll leave it at its current setting. However, each time you don't do what you're asked, I'll turn it up a notch."
"Please let me up," Tyler pleaded. "I'll behave myself!"
"Now, you see, that's not in the script," Mr. Harris said. "I'm going to just turn this up one notch."
Turning the remote so Tyler could see it, he twisted the dial and he heard it make a soft click as it advanced one setting higher.
"Are you going to cooperate now?" Mr. Harris asked. Tyler silently nodded his head. This whole thing was like a nightmare.
"All right," he said, hitting a different button on the remote. "Read your next line."
A fresh cue card was placed in Tyler's view. Even before he had a chance to read it, he saw a different arm come out from the machine. Attached to its end was an artificial human hand.
"This hand has been made with a special type of firm fiberglass," Tyler read, trying to keep his voice steady and even. "It has 30 different fully movable joints to mimic any position a real hand could be in. Thanks to the optical scan, the computer in now analyzing the shape of my bottom and configuring the hand in to the most appropriate shape."
Tyler had read the line without really digesting it, but now he saw the hand going from flat to slightly cupped. He still couldn't believe that this was really happening.
"Commencing handspanking," the machine said, with all the emotion of an airport pager.
There was a loud metallic hum and then a WHAP! on Tyler's bottom. His eyes opened wide in shock. It had been years since his father had spanked him, but whoever had designed this machine had succeeded in creating something that felt exactly the same. It hummed again and then WHAP!
He cried out. He hadn't even thought about if he was going to try and keep quiet or not, but now it was too late. With robotic precision, the arm went back and came back down WHAP! again and again. Nor did it only hit him in one spot as he'd halfway expected. It seemed to vary slightly each time in a random fashion, smacking first the middle of his bottom, then the underneath and then on the plump sides. He did has some freedom in his middle and he bucked his body each time, trying to get it to fall on a less sore area, but as he had no idea where it was going to fall next, mostly he only inflicted more pain on himself with each new WHAP!
Tyler hadn't counted, but when the machine stopped, he would have guessed he'd been spanked close to twenty-five times. Tears were streaming down his face and he was breathing hard.
"Read the next line, Tyler," Mr. Harris prompted him.
Figuring that this was the end of it, he blinked his eyes clear and read the card.
"The machine uses thermal sensors to determine the flow of blood to the subject's bottom. This way, it can tell with each individual how hard they've been spanked. In my case, the machine has determined...." he gulped, but continued reading, "that I haven't been spanked nearly hard enough. So it will switch implements."
The arm swung back and Tyler watched it's progress through the monitor. It stuck the hand in the slot and then moved to another slot. When it came out, a large wooden paddle was attached to the end.
"No, no, please, no!" he said.
"Not in the script, Tyler," Mr. Harris said as he turned the severity dial up another notch.
"Commencing paddling," the machine said. Knowing it was hopeless, Tyler nevertheless tried to break free. All the while, he could see the paddle taking aim on his sore bottom.
WHACK! He screeched as the hard wood connected with his backside. This was no high-tech simulated paddle. This was the real thing in all its blistering hardness. It had struck him right in the middle of his cheeks and felt twice as bad as the hand had. And it was just as relentless, WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!!
Tyler's wrists and ankles were slightly sore from him fighting to get out of the restraints, but that discomfort was dwarfed by the hot, burning pain in his rear. He had never known such stinging in his life, WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!!
After another ten hard spanks, it stopped again. Tyler hoped that it was at an end, but the tone of Mr. Harris' voice when he told him to read his next line told him otherwise. He had to turn the dial up yet another notch before Tyler would even look at the card and then twice more before he would read it aloud.
"The thermal sensors have determined that the spanks are not stinging enough," he managed to say in a voice full of tears, "and so it has elected to pull my underpants down. From now on, all my remaining spanks will be on my bare bottom."
True to his word, the spanking machine sent out the first arm to grab hold of the back of Tyler's briefs. His face was beet red from crying, so no one could notice the fresh blush of shame as his underpants were pulled down to reveal his flaming red bottom. The camera was focused right on his burning cheeks, as were ever set of eyes in the room.
"No tan lines," someone commented. "Nice, Tyler."
Again he felt a rush of embarrassment. He did like to tan in the nude because he thought it made him look extra _s_e_x_y, but this was not the time he would have wanted anyone else to find out about this. Not even his parents knew. Even worse was that his uncircumcised penis was now dangling in plain view. Whoever was behind the camera clearly wanted the viewers to be able to see that as well as his big set of hairless balls.
"Continuing paddling," the machine said soullessly.
Hummmmm, SMACK!! went the paddle on his freshly bared bottom. Tyler howled in agony as stinging pain threatened to overwhelm him. Without the protection of his underpants, the force of the spanks seemed to have doubled, SMACK!! SMACK!! SMACK!!!
Despite the searing pain, Tyler started to notice something else. With his _c_o_c_k_ and balls now free, they were swinging and rubbing up against the padded underside of the board he was held against. This would coincide with the burning spanks, but somehow all this rubbing was giving him the last thing he'd have expected or wanted; an erection. Horrified at this ultimate betrayal by his body, Tyler tried every thing he could to get it to stop growing. He concentrated on the spanking. He thought about how much it hurt. He even tried to stick his bottom out to make it hurt worse, but nothing would help. If anything, it made it worse. In plain view of the camera, his teenboy _c_o_c_k_ grew to its full length. His foreskin had retracted and now each time he got a new SMACK! the ultra sensitive head would rub up against the padding and give him an electric jolt of something that actually felt like pleasure. When the paddling stopped, he didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed.
"Just one more line to read, Tyler," Mr. Harris said. Tyler choked off his sobs and tried to concentrate on the card that was swimming before his watery eyes. Snot was running down his lip and dripping onto the floor.
"For the last part of my spanking," he read, unable to keep fresh tears out of his voice at the knowledge that it wasn't over, "the machine has elected to further restrain me due to the amount of moving I've done while being spanked."
He heard a new hum and had expected something to grab his sides. He did not expect to feel a tugging on his swinging balls. Looking into the TV screen, he saw a metal ring open and then close about the top of his scrotum. It held his balls tightly, but as long as he didn't move, there was only a mild pulling that was not all that unpleasant. But if he moved.....
The machine had put the paddle back in its slot and was now making itself slightly shorter. Tyler didn't have long to wonder what it was going to spank him with next. It reached into anther slot and came out with a long cane, about the width of Tyler's thumb. He could see from the way it moved, that it was slightly flexible.
"Commencing caning," the infernal voice said. This time, the sound of the cane whooshing through the air obscured the metallic hum of the machine.
WHACK!!!! Tyler threw back his head and screamed at the top of his lungs as the cane cut across the middle of his cheeks, leaving a burning line of fire. It was only a moment before it came down again that Tyler realized that in addition to creating an new type of pain in his bottom, it had also somehow exited his _c_o_c_k_ even more, WHACK!!!
This next one cut about two inches below the first one, as it landed, Tyler instinctively bucked his middle. His balls were yanked HARD as he moved and the elastic skin pulled him back down. His _c_o_c_k_ bounced and rubbed against the padding as he tried to remind himself not to move when the next WHACK!!! came. This one came at an angle and intersected the two other lines and where they crossed, the pain was incredible. Again he bounced and again his balls were painfully tugged. A fourth time the cane went WHACK!!! then a fifth, a sixth and a seventh. Each time he forgot himself and moved. Each time his got a painful reminder from his balls to keep still. Each time his _c_o_c_k_ got more excited. His head was a jumble of overloaded sensations. Pain and pleasure mixed until they were indistinguishable. The cane cut across his bare bottom for the tenth time; right at the crease where his cheeks met his thighs and as he yanked against his ball restraints again, they exploded. A hot jet of teen cum shot out of his throbbing _c_o_c_k_ to splatter on the floor. Again the cane slashed across his skin and another stream of sperm shot from him. He could hear the audience laughing as he came from being spanked. Each fresh lick brought an equally powerful shot from the end of his _c_o_c_k_. His mind was swimming in confusion and pain and pleasure as he came and came and came....
....and jerked his head up. Not expecting his arms and legs to be free, he overbalanced in his chair, making loud noise as he landed on his ass. His heart was racing as he tried to orient himself. His chair, his desk....
Looking down at his crotch, he saw a spreading wet stain and he felt one more jolt as his balls managed one more squirt into his pants. Tyler had experienced wet dreams before, but never this vivid. And never about being spanked! It had been so real....
He reached around and felt his bottom. It was sore, but that was most likely from landing on the floor just moments ago. Looking at his watch, he saw that he had been asleep for nearly an hour. Soon they would need him on the set for real. He grabbed an extra pair of shorts from his locker and ran to the bathroom. He'd have to free-ball it since he didn't have spare briefs, but that would be all right as long as he was careful not to sit with his legs open. After changing, he sat down and learned his lines in about ten minutes. Just as he was done Elisha came to get him.
"Tyler, where have you been?" she said. "Everyone is waiting for you on the set! Mr. Harris is pissed at you!"
"Wow," Tyler said, "Déjà vu!"
"What are you talking about?" she asked.
"Probably nothing," he said, "but let's go find out."
"You're weird, Tyler."
"Probably more than you know," he agreed. He looked back at his chair with a grin. Of course it was only a dream, but if not....well, he already had his underpants off. Somehow that made him smile even broader.