Dr. Clowngoggles stood in his lab, admiring his latest creation: The Spanking Machine. It was a towering contraption of gears, levers, and robotic arms, each one designed to deliver a precise and humiliating smack to anyone unfortunate enough to be caught in its grasp. The machine whirred with mechanical life, and the eccentric scientist couldn’t help but chuckle to himself as he adjusted a few knobs and switches.
The recently regressed professional baseball players, now puny 10-year-old boys, sat huddled together in the corner of the lab, still wearing their oversized uniforms. They squirmed uncomfortably, their eyes wide with fear as they watched Dr. Clowngoggles fiddling with the controls of his new invention. Their minds were still clouded with the confusion of their sudden regression, and they had no idea what the strange machine was for.
“Alright, boys,” Dr. Clowngoggles said, turning to face them with a gleeful grin. “You’ve all had quite a day, haven’t you? From professional athletes to little leaguers in the blink of an eye! But don’t worry, I’ve got one more experiment for you before we call it quits.”
The boys exchanged nervous glances, unsure of what was coming next.
One of them, a former outfielder with a freckled face, raised his hand timidly. “W-what’s that thing?” he asked, his voice trembling.
“Oh, this?” Dr. Clowngoggles said, gesturing grandly toward the machine. “This is my latest invention—the Spanking Machine! I’ve designed it to deliver discipline with unparalleled efficiency. You see, in my experience, sometimes a little… corrective action is necessary to maintain order. And since you’re all back to being naughty little boys, I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to test it out!”
The boys’ eyes widened in horror as the reality of the situation set in.
“No way!” one of them shouted, his voice cracking. “You can’t do that to us! We’re grown men!”
“Not anymore, you’re not,” Dr. Clowngoggles replied with a chuckle. “You’re just a bunch of misbehaving little kids now. And this machine is going to remind you what happens when boys don’t follow the rules!”
Before any of them could protest further, the scientist pressed a button on the control panel, and the Spanking Machine roared to life. The whirring of gears and the clanking of metal filled the room as the machine’s robotic arms extended, each one ending in a paddle-like device.
The first unlucky boy, formerly the team’s captain, Jake “The Hammer” Harrison, was grabbed by one of the robotic arms. He struggled, kicking his legs and trying to wriggle free, but his small, regressed body was no match for the machine’s grip.
“Let me go!” he cried, his voice high-pitched and panicked. “You can’t do this!”
Dr. Clowngoggles shook his head with a mockingly sympathetic look. “Oh, Jake, Jake, Jake. It’s time to accept your new place. After all, every little boy needs discipline from time to time, don’t they?”
The machine bent Harrison over and positioned him just right. The robotic arm with the paddle raised high, pausing for dramatic effect. Harrison’s face turned red with embarrassment, and his heart pounded in his chest as he realized what was about to happen.
SMACK!
The first swat landed with a loud, humiliating slap against his small, childish backside. Harrison yelped in surprise, his eyes watering from the sting. “Ow! That hurts!” he cried, his hands flying back to cover his sore bottom.
Dr. Clowngoggles laughed, clearly enjoying the spectacle. “Of course, it does! That’s the point, my dear boy. The Spanking Machine is designed to teach valuable lessons. And I think you’ve got a few more to learn!”
The other boys watched in horror as Harrison received another series of swift, well-timed spanks. Each one made him jump and yelp, his legs kicking helplessly. His face flushed with a mixture of pain and humiliation, his tough-guy persona completely shattered.
One by one, the robotic arms of the Spanking Machine reached out, grabbing each of the regressed players in turn. The former pitcher, now a scrawny little boy, found himself bent over the machine’s padded platform, his legs dangling in the air. “Please, no!” he begged, his voice shaky. “I don’t wanna be spanked!”
But the machine was merciless. With precision, it delivered swats to each boy’s behind, their yelps and protests filling the room. Their faces flushed red with humiliation as they squirmed and struggled, but there was no escaping the discipline the machine was programmed to give.
“I think this is going quite well, don’t you?” Dr. Clowngoggles said, grinning as he watched the boys squirm. “A little discipline never hurt anyone!”
The boys whimpered and squirmed as the machine worked through the group, their pride shattered as they were reduced to nothing more than helpless children receiving a humiliating punishment. Their once-mighty baseball careers felt like a distant memory as they endured the machine’s robotic paddles.
After a few more minutes, the machine whirred to a stop, and the room fell silent except for the soft sobs and sniffles of the regressed players. They sat on the floor, rubbing their sore behinds and avoiding eye contact with Dr. Clowngoggles, their faces red with shame.
“Well, boys,” Dr. Clowngoggles said, dusting off his hands with satisfaction, “I’d say that was a successful experiment! You’ve all been quite helpful test subjects. Now, I think you’ll remember to behave, won’t you?”
The boys nodded miserably, too embarrassed to speak.
“Good! Now run along, little ones,” he said with a playful wave. “And don’t forget—there’s always room for more experiments in the future!”
With that, Dr. Clowngoggles turned back to his lab, leaving the regressed players to contemplate their new reality. They might have been professional athletes once, but now they were just a group of thoroughly spanked little boys, at the mercy of the eccentric scientist and his twisted inventions.