The Spanking Machine: Pandora’s Back Whipping

The room echoes as you’re led toward the wooden apparatus. The environment, like the guards who run it, is stark and unforgiving; cold floors and harsh restraints. You’re barely touched by human hands as you prepare for your whipping. There is as a little contact as possible. The machine itself is an enigma. You know that it won’t respond to your movements, your pleas – how could it? Each stroke will be exactly like the last, never changing in rhythm or force. The machine doesn’t care that your back is reddening with angry stripes. There’s no pleasure to be gained by cold metal and whistling rubber. You can hear the gears turning with every stroke. You always know when the next one is going to hit. It doesn’t help.