The Miscreants and the Top-Bots : Future Spank story

The Future Spank contest was a surprise to me, as I didn’t think we’d have nearly as many well-written entries. Here’s another, titled “The Miscreants and the Top-Bots”.
– Dana
The Miscreants & the Top-Bots (Spanking at Maximum Efficiency)

The year is indiscriminate.  There is no measure to keep up with time. Not for the Miscreants who must be kept to a strict training regime, regardless of whether the sun or moon is shining.  For them, the future has outgrown a reason to keep track of the days.  At least here, on Planet Degroot, where the greatest concern is re-educating criminals that have offended against Nature: The Earth and their fellow citizens.  These offenders come to Planet Degroot, in groups at a time, to learn how to re-inhabit and contribute to the wellbeing of Plant Earth while transitioning from inoperable to responsible human beings that could better humanity after being programmed with a bit of tough love and strict conditioning.
The problem with Earth Defilers suggests an underlying disregard in general that extends to people, animals and the planet at large. A pattern emerging amongst the Miscreants at Planet Degroot was their lack of respect, their non-interest in keeping Earth inhabitable, their spoiled rotten natures that saw no consequences for undesirable behaviors.  Eons after the traditional 50’s era on Earth, emerging generations became less and less disciplined. Parental figures reared offspring to develop an absurd sense of entitlement, which then morphed into greater absurdity with the next generation of offspring.
With Generation Delta, there was an influx of havoc: underage drinking and use of drugs, piloting vehicles while intoxicated, dumping waste from high efficiency flying scooters while jetting to work or school, loitering on privately owned floating properties, destroying natural habitats to build steel fortresses equipped with technology so advanced one could teleport between floors by standing in a narrow tube in one room, pressing a button, and emerging in another narrow tube in a different room.  Technology had become the Ruling Force for the Miscreants, rendering them lazy and useless.
Of course technology serves its greater purpose, insuring a riot would ensue were any measures taken to place severe restrictions on it.  One President had tried by ordering the judges impose harsh sanctions for abusing the Earth and behaving recklessly.  Across all states there was the implementation of curfews, fines and technological restrictions that caused a communal withdrawal and heavy backlash.
A popular finger app reserved solely for Congressional members voted the President be impeached for Treason against Technology.  One of the traditions that remained stable throughout the centuries was the government, but President Grasso’s imminent removal from office signaled that even this was coming to an end.
The next President, Tracie D’Vanzio, had to make some quick decisions.  She was voted into office mostly because she agreed to release the overpopulated jails that were overflowing with what the former President called Miscreants, those who committed misdemeanor crimes without being pardoned or paroled, no matter how minor the offense.  She was hoping to deter bad behavior by punishing even small instances of it, but her plan was not successful. The situation was dire.
The Heads of State originally agreed the situation needed to be brought under control, but they quickly discarded the idea when the President’s interference with state regulations bought an unprecedented chaos to their jurisdictions.  Computer engineers were working day and night to develop an app that would interest people in their own salvation. As it turns out, it would take more than an app for that.
Offenders let off with a figurative slap on the wrist became repeat offenders.  Jail proved to have no effect, yet judges had no alternatives. The new President Andrea D’Vanzio jumped on the bandwagon to join the program to keep offenders out of jail by rehabilitating them with discipline and corporal punishment; on a nearby planet where democracy was not an option.
Other countries had instituted this practice for decades now with a moderately high success rate.  The detainees on Planet Degroot were to be subjected to a reasonable amount of technological withdrawal to reprogram their brains with values that died centuries ago.  They were subjected to educational courses, schooled in manners and respect, taught how to engage each other and most importantly: how to return to their Homelands as better people; a condition of their release being to share their knowledge both formally and informally with other humans. Many became teachers and did what they could to help their students balance the past with the future for the betterment of themselves, their children and future children, and the Earth itself.
Ava McIntire was officially the first detainee released from an overcrowded prison and sent on a shuttle to Planet Degroot.  She was sentenced to 1 year (the minimum) for loitering, littering and acquiring her 2nd FWI (Flying While Intoxicated).  Ava was a woman in her mid-20’s that did not mature into a responsible adult. She acted indifferently while stationed against the wall of the Graviton, a circular shuttle used to transport the Miscreants.  Ava was one of 60; each inmate having his or her own section of wall that they became secured to once the shuttle was in flight. To ensure they could not create any greater mischief, they were glued to the walls by gravity for the 2 hours it took to reach Planet Degroot.
When the prisoners arrived at their destinations, they were surprised to find this new Planet resembling Planet Earth Centuries ago; it was like walking into a history book or an old film. This was the anti-future.  The atmosphere was meant to mimic that of the 1950’s.  Only stray blue-silver and lavendar-chrome robots, meant to keep the Miscreants at bay, were any indication that this was the present time.
Gorgeous male and female bots looked like human beings that had been dipped in silver or chrome and polished to perfection, their beautifully toned muscles prepared to dole out discipline if necessary.  However, it was generally preferred that discipline be more traditional and carried out by people that did not look like super-heroes.  But these superhero-like bot disciplinarians served their purposes.
However, they also had to answer to a higher authority; their robotic bottoms not spared a good thrashing were it deemed necessary.  To any onlooker it would appear that a layer of steel protected them for any corporal discipline. This was not the case. These bots that kept the highest order were graduates of the program that remained on Planet Degroot to maintain order. They were programmed with a strong shell exterior whose only weakness was a less protective coating over the hind quarters in case they were in need of a humble reminder.
There were no jails or prisons on Planet DeGroot.  Only corners with naughty Miscreants sticking their faces to the wall, red plush bottoms on display with boxers or panties around quivering knees. Other forms of punishment included kneeling on rice, writing lines and essays, detention and of course, spanking and all its variants.
The one who reigned over Planet DeGroot went by the name of Dana Kane.  Those who worked under her were known as Top-Bots and were responsible for doling out the discipline to wayward Miscreants. Although eventually most of the naughty ones were straightened out, and even able to set an example for those that came after them, most of the newbies had a hard time adjusting.
One of the biggest problems at Planet DeGroot was the new Miscreants banding together and stealing the corporal punishment instruments: burying them, burning them, hiding them.  Ms. Kane felt that it would be unauthentic to have 24/7 surveillance monitoring these scoundrels. With the help of her futuristic robot friends, she was able to devise an experiment by having a team work to create bionic arms for the Disciplinarian’s.  Although everyone was still essentially human with some minor technological tweaks (and armor), Ms. Kane named her entourage the “Top-Bots” due to this experimental procedure.
The arms fashioned for the Top-Bots were a revolutionary spanking idea.  The arm and hand looked ordinary, but a surgical procedure implanted a device within the limb, palm and fingers that eradicated the need for implements.  A lot of Earth trees were spared now that they needn’t be used as canes, paddles or switches. The machine was implanted beneath the skin and had discrete buttons that could be switched on and off by touching the underside of the wrist, all the way up to the forearm.
These buttons measured the intensity of the force used to administer a spanking.  It also assured that there was no bias.  Every offense of the same nature was punished with a calculated formula that was imputed into each machine.  This levelled out the playing field when some of the offenders complained that they were being punished more severely for the same offense as someone else because their Disciplinarian was larger or stronger, or because they had physical limitations that were not being considered.
The machine eliminated this problem as the machines were programmed in equal proportions. Every swat to every offender, doled out by every Top would be exactly the same in intensity across the board.  Of course the calculations would factor in the height, weight, physical makeup and individual frailties of the offending party. In the end it would equal out.  Any wayward complaints were now just pointblank lies that were misdemeanor offenses on Planet Degroot, and of course worthy of punishment.
The only original concern regarding the Robotic Hand was that it ran on batteries and while still in the experimental phases, it was unclear if they would run out.  Because the batteries could not be easily replaced without the Top-Bots having to undergo another procedure, the government programs responsible for sending these Miscreants to Planet DeGroot for rehabilitation had to incur the almost exorbitant expense of reliable power sources.
It was decided that the Robotic Hand would be powered with Duracell Quantum Infinity, the Duracell line of batteries having evolved well into the future.  This brand was solar powered, and also could acquire a charge from dimmer light sources, including the soft illumination from the moon or even your average light tablet or more sophisticated caning saber (which was reserved for the most grave offenses and guarded by a Bot whose only job it was to make sure nobody but the Top-Bots got anywhere near the punishment tool).  This light-powered formula guaranteed the batteries would not run out of juice. Duracell Quantum Infinity was used for all Robotic Hands as the threat of a malfunction could compromise an entire punishment operation which might inspire mockery and a Miscreant rebellion.  Ms. Kane had all the possibilities worked out as she developed the concept.
Dana Kane was a strict Disciplinarian who would not allow her Miscreants to run amok.  She took great pride in her system, which was bringing back the intimacy of tradition so that these offenders could learn that life without undeserved luxury and technology seeping out of their pores was a possible and enlightening endeavor.  She was the June Cleaver with a caning saber, dripping with that 50’s sitcom sweetness and wit… but with a twist, she was a woman completely undeterred to bare a naughty bottom and swiftly administer this oxymoronic justice that combined the past with the present, and technically also the future.
Planet DeGroot was Ms. Kane’s Pride.  She was granted permission from the Earth authorities to name her Planet once she took over.  Her predecessor (although successful) was not living up to his expectations and was asked to retire early. She chose DeGroot after the beautiful, narrow evergreen that was easy to trim to one’s desire.  Growing in rows of harmony on earth, she did not think it a bad idea to mimic the concept to suit her purposes.  Each Miscreant was like one of these precious evergreens, needing a certain amount of attention to prune them where they would then grow side by side in synchronization without encroaching on each other’s space.  They were trained to grow tall rather than wide, to work together.  With tender guidance, true beauty was possible.
Ava DeGroot was nothing like an evergreen, if anything she was a weed. Popping up everywhere she didn’t belong. Littering. Loitering. Wrecking things. Abusing alcohol. Strangling her relationships. Impossible to tame. Ms. Kane greeted her at the door of the shuttle, as she did all the new Miscreants. She generally just shook their hands and introduced herself as she gave them the once over, instinct alerting her to who was going to be trouble. Her internal radar went off as Ava passed her.
“Excuse me, young lady,” Ms. Kane pulled her over to the side, “I’m going to need to take whatever it is that is in your hand there.”
Ava looked down.  “You can’t take this.  It’s my i-Pod Touch from the 21st century.  It’s vintage.  I need to listen to Miley Cyrus; she’s a classic. Also, I’m a die-hard frozen-in-time Belieber. Anyway, this was handed down to me from generations. I’m kinda a traditionalist.” Ava licked her lips nonchalantly, a habit she had when she was annoyed.
Ms. Kane eyed her suspiciously, but not offensively. She was familiar with her type. “You can keep it for now,” she said. “And please tone down that shirt a few notches.”
Ava huffed, agitated. She pressed the button on her shirt so that its glowing neon colors came to a halt and became a shade of distilled pink.
Ms. Kane directed everyone to the large meeting hall in 2 hours from their time of arrival, after a light meal was to be served to the Miscreants.  At the meeting hall, Ms. Kane was dressed in a polka dot shirt, a long skirt that fell to her ankles and pumps that made her appear taller. For such a proper person, it was difficult for her to look out at the audience before her with its inappropriate attire.  The newbies were supposed to have gotten uniforms before getting on the shuttle, but that tradition had been eradicated once the Miscreants began destroying their clothing before they arrived at Planet DeGroot.
Because corporal punishment could not commence immediately due to the large volume of detainees that would need immediate disciplining, which the Miscreants well knew, the uniforms were now to be given the day of arrivals and expected to be worn the next morning.  Ms. Kane explained all of the behaviors that were cause for punishment, of which there were many.  She went over the specific consequences, the schedule, the training programs, the introduction of the staff and of course, the Robotic Hand.
Ms. Kane didn’t presume to be taken seriously at this stage of the game.  She preferred it this way.  It was more enjoyable to earn respect than to expect it. This is the same philosophy she taught to her Top-Bots, who although had literal iron fists were not allowed rule with them in any way that suggested an abuse of authority.
Back in her study, Ms. Kane awaited Ava.  She knew she would be sent there for some reason or another.  She had guessed one of the Top-Bots would have her sent over for discipline before the 10:00pm curfew. Almost right on the money, a disgruntled Top-Bot brought the woman in for an offense that couldn’t be properly punished because it had never been committed before, nor was it anticipated to be committed.
“I don’t know what to do,” Senior Top-Bot Ms. Jane said frantically as she thrust open the door to Ms. Kane’s office, not even bothering to knock. She held an angry Ava by the scruff of her neck and pushed her inside.  Ava’s features transformed into a smirk when she saw a dismayed Ms. Kane.
“What in the holy heck is going on here?” Ms. Dana asked.
“What is going on?” Ms. Jane repeated. “What is going on?  All of the Miscreant females are “twerking” to someone who goes by the name of Mikey Cy..”
“Miley,” Ava interrupted.
Ms. Jane threw up her hands in agitation. “MILEY Cyrus and the male Miscreants are grabbing their…” Her face flushed as she said the words.  She spit them out hurriedly, “crotches,” she whispered, “Like this Justin Bieber person.” She grabbed Ava’s vintage iPod and showed Ms. Kane the images.  “It’s almost bedtime and there is a grand old party going on in there and nobody can administer any discipline because we’re not programmed to know what kind of offense this is.”
Ms. Kane looked about thoughtfully, as if she were making calculations in her mind. It didn’t take her very long to figure out. “It’s a level 10.  Complete disregard for all of the rules here at Planet Degroot. Every night for the next then nights the Top-Bot responsible for each group will administer a punishment.  A level one spanking on the first night, a level two spanking on the second night, etcetera.  On the 10th day, we will have all the participating Miscreants come to the Auditorium where they will be given two strokes of the cane saber on their naked behinds in front of everyone.  I will be administering the saber since this is a direct mockery of my rules.  Ms. Kane spoke with a level head.  She was not angry.  She was rarely angry. She was not however, amused.  She asked that Ms. Jane go get a handle on things with the other staff while she tended to Ava, personally.
Ava was a woman with light blonde streaked with dancing rainbow highlights. She was slightly overweight but not unattractive.  Her eyes were a rich blue, and deep.  She looked rather innocent in her night uniform, a simple white dress with cotton panties.  Ms. Kane preferred the traditional look of the old days when discipline was alive and in style.  Discipline was not fashionable in the future, but that all would change after Planet DeGroot’s influence.
Ms. Kane also had blue eyes, of a lighter color, but hypnotizing all the same.  She beckoned Ava towards her. “Do you realize what you’ve done?” she asked sternly, not rising from her seat but lifting up her head and lowering her glasses so that her eyes met Ava’s.  For the first time Ava felt a twinge of nervousness. She didn’t do anything wrong really.  She was just having fun, and she was brazen enough to tell Ms. Kane just that, in no uncertain terms.
“Well I hope you enjoyed your fun, because it’s likely the last of it you’ll see for some time.  I made the rules clear in the auditorium earlier, didn’t I?”
Ava nodded, the woman before her had the gift to make her feel shamed; something she was not accustomed to.
“And did I also not allow you to keep your “vintage” nonsense?”
Ava nodded again, her eyes darting to the ground.
“There’s nothing left to do but punish you. You inspired a rebellion, and I don’t appreciate it.  I work very hard here to keep order.  I’m not a tyrant. I most certainly allow fun and games, but there must be structure otherwise this whole system will shut down. I don’t think you quite understand me, and you might not for some time.  I know you will need to adjust, and I’ve found the most universal language on Planet Degroot is when the hand communicates with the bottom.” She gestured towards her lap. “You are going to willingly come here this moment and get over my knee.”
Ava hesitated, fiddling with her hair, wishing to make some snide remark but unable to draw it out of herself.
“It wasn’t a suggestion,” Ms. Kane barked.
Ava stood at attention, feeling somewhat afraid.  She gingerly walked towards Ms. Kane who decided to help her by forcing her over her lap.  The woman fell clumsily over Ms. Kane’s knee. Ms. Kane felt slightly badly for acting a little aggressively, and so she composed herself and more gently maneuvered Ava into a more comfortable position. “Hold on to the legs of the chair,” she instructed.
Ava gripped on to the legs of the chair with both hands, feeling too entirely mortified to make any snarky comments or even to protest.  It was her will to jump off of this woman’s lap and tell her just where she could shove her bionic spanking arm, but the words were stuck in her throat.  They refused to come out.  She dared not say a thing, even as she felt her dress lifted up, exposing her panty-clad bottom.
“I’m just going to get right down to this,” Ms. Kane informed her, administering level one smacks over Ava’s underwear. Level one was a combination of a warm-up and a moderately painful spanking, mostly a warning and deterrent.
*SMACK*
The first spank landed across both cheeks.  It wasn’t terribly painful, but there was definitely an unpleasant sting.  The spanking continued.
*SMACK* *SMACK* *SMACK*SMACK*
The smacks were coming in rapid succession now.  Ava started to squirm and wiggle away from the pain.  Suddenly the idea of a bionic hand terrified her.  It all started to seep in as the spanking went on.  Several dozen whacks over her panties had her panting and agitated.  She was stubborn and remained silent, not even an “Ow” escaped her lips, but inside she was fighting her fear and the pain.
Ms. Dana’s hand didn’t feel like a piece of metal, but Ms. Dana had said in the auditorium that the spankings weren’t meant to feel as if one was being beaten with a piece of steel.  That would compromise tradition she said, and also, be brutal. All of this was factored into the bionic hands, which were hard but remained supple and felt exactly like flesh.
Ava’s bottom was becoming sore.  She hardly noticed that Ms. Kane had taken her panties down.  When she did, she felt mortififed. The shame decorated her face the color of blooming red roses.  She wanted to scream “No,” or anything at all really, yet she was so shocked at her predicament she could do nothing at all but lie there.
Ms. Kane was silent, mostly. She let her hand do the talking.  When she reached a level 3, Ava could no longer keep the sounds inside. First they came as indistinguishable utterances.  Then they came as pleas.  Finally they came as tears, gradually at first, then streaming down her face. She squirmed over Ms. Kane’s lap.  The smacks continued. Right cheek. Left cheek. Both cheeks. Upper thighs.  When the hand made contact with her thigh, Ava couldn’t help but let out a literal scream.
That was met with a slap to her other thigh.  “Now stop that right now,” Ms. Kane scolded. “You’re gonna wake the whole darn planet.  You did this, not me. All my hard work promoting unity and obedience, pruning my trees and you come in singlehandedly and try to destroy my forest!”
Ava vaguely remembered the tree references from earlier at the auditorium. Ms. Dana kept relating trees to Miscreants.
“I didn’t mean it,” Ava pleaded, her tears so full in her eyes that the floor was blurry.
“Of course you meant it,” Dana told her. “We don’t do things we don’t mean to do!”
After another several dozen slaps, Ava was delirious.  Her hair stuck to her face with sweat and tears. “Okay, okay,” she yelped. “I did mean it, but I’m sorry now.  I’m soooooooo sorry.  Please, please stop.”
Ms. Kane did believe her.  It was hard not to be sorry during a spanking like this, even if you weren’t quite sure what you were expected to be sorry for.  Ms. Kane had learned this was the way it went with new Miscreants. It was all pars for the course. But Ms. Dana also learned that she had to continue even after the tears ran out, after the body stopped shaking and the bottom became too red to continue much longer.  It was the experience of continued pain that taught the lesson.  The experience needed to be remembered, or the lesson would be lost.
Ms. Kane delivered another dozen smacks, as hard as she could. “These last ones are going to be the hardest, and I’m assuming I don’t need to remind you why you’re here right now, do I?  She gently moved the woman’s hair from her face.”
Ava shook her head, bracing for the blows.
When it was all said and done, Ava fell to the floor.  She rested her head in Ms. Kane’s lap, surprised to be met with tenderness after such an ordeal.  No one had ever treated her kindly before. She raised her head to look at Ms. Kane who was seemed to be playing with her wrist and forearm.
“Ma’am?” she asked.
Ms. Kane was pleased with the change of attitude.  “Yes?”
“Would you mind telling me what level we had stopped at?  I noticed you programming or re-programming your arm just now.”
The Disciplinarian let out a loud chuckle. “Ha! Darlin’” she laughed. “I’m not a Top-Bot, just a Top.  I don’t need any machine in me to deliver one heck of a spanking.  I was just fiddling with my watch. I was born this way!”

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