Haylee and the Spanking Machine

With her free hand, she slipped the blindfold over her head, pulled her hair out from under the strap, and then covered her eyes. The darkness was complete, and her stomach sank even lower.

"Move the trestle," the female guard said, and the scraping of the wooden legs and the other guard's grumbles indicated it was being moved into the center of the cell.

Haylee gasped as a hand grabbed under her armpit. "Stand up," the female guard said, "Don't fight me, ok?"

Haylee's lips trembled, "I-I w-won't." Her speech failed her and fear rose in her as time ticked down to her punishment.

She was pulled to her feet and pulled to the left toward the cell door and then turned so that she faced the back wall. She knew that she was being pushed toward the trestle, and without thinking, she groped with both hands for the object she knew was in front of her. Instinctively, she wanted to know where she was.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" the guard holding her exclaimed. Haylee's sudden gesticulation must have shocked her. "You're going to be ok. Just relax," the woman said calmly.

"S-s-sorry," Haylee said, snapping her hands back to her chest also eager to cover her breasts. Tears began to form in a combination of fear and embarrassment. She didn't know how to be calm, but she liked the guard and didn't want to fight her.

"It's ok. No more sudden movements. Move forward, it's less than a foot in front of you."

The prisoner shuffled forward, and her thighs bumped into the trestle. Haylee felt the guard's hand on her back, and she bent forward. She felt her breasts fall, dangling away from her body as she descended.

The woman walked around in front of Haylee and grabbed her right wrist, guiding it into a cuff. "Just relax, honey. It's going to be over quick, I promise." In a few seconds her left wrist was secured as well.

With arms secured, the guard walked behind Haylee and placed her boot between the poor girl's ankles coaxing her to spread. Haylee relented and allowed the woman to spread her legs beyond her shoulders. To her horror, she realized that anybody who walked down the jail corridor would have a wide-open view of her newly bare vagina. She prayed that her dark lips stayed sealed and hid her pink and that her cheeks hid her bum hole.

Spreading her legs made her shorter and the guard gently pushed her further down. The padding wasn't very soft and scratched her belly and chafed. She felt breath on the back of her thighs and realized the woman was just inches from her sex as she secured both ankles into the cuffs. There was no way for her to escape the trestle. All she could do was move her hips from side to side and decide whether to lift her head up or let it hang down.

Haylee heard footsteps as the guards stepped away from her, but as she heard other footsteps approach, she remembered that the investigator would be taking pictures of her. She sniffed sadly and imagined how obscene she must look. This position was for porn stars, not her. She was a good girl and was supposed to be a teacher in less than a year. She tried to remember that being a test subject was what was going to allow her to have a future, but the thought didn't help her any now.

"Here comes the tech, are you almost done?" the female guard asked.

"Yeah, I got the pictures taken. This one is important. We don't get many subjects with dark skin."

Haylee hated him. It's like she wasn't even human, just something to study. He talked about her like she wasn't here or deaf as well as blind. Only the other woman had shown her any warmth today.

Behind her, Haylee heard something being rolled down the hallway and the cell door creaked open, "Ah, good. What a sight. I'm glad she's already prepared."

"Yes, sir," the male guard answered, "She's been very compliant."

Haylee's skin crawled. The technician had already commented on the sight, that is her openly displayed privates, and, even though she had planned to be compliant, she still didn't like the sound of it. It reminded her how vulnerable she was right now.

Haylee heard the wheels approach her and settle to the left of her ass and she imagined the flogging machine looming over her. She was terrified, tears started to fall, and she struggled to catch her breath. She felt her breasts sway under her as her chest heaved.

She heard clicks as the technician fiddled with the machine and she started to beg, "No, no, no. This isn-isn't f-f-f-fair." Her mind jumped to the memory of her indiscretion. The girls she'd spanked hadn't been reduced to blubbering messes. She might deserve to be punished if she had done this to those girls, but they had giggled and said it was exciting. The stupid bitches who had ratted her out didn't even get spanked and they had ruined her life. "You c-can't do this," she begged, twisting her hips to the right taking her ass as far from the machine as she could.

More footsteps approached, and the female guard spoke calmly from in front of her, "Please, you've listened to all the directions today. Stop moving or the punishment might get worse."

Haylee had been able to contain herself all day. She'd kept all her opinions to herself and she stripped and removed her hair without any complaining, but, now that she heard the machine next to her, she couldn't anymore. "I c-can't. It's going to hurt, and I d-didn't d-do anything wrong!" she sobbed.

"You have to," the guard answered, "Hold still, or we have to file new charges."

Haylee's pleas descended into incomprehensible mumbling as tears continued to soak her blindfold. She didn't want to be 'compliant' and beaten for what she'd done. She just didn't feel guilty about it. This was just so unfair, so she continued to twist her body away from the machine.

"Should I get the paperwork started?" the male guard asked the room as Haylee continued to bawl.

"Yeah, at least get it going in case she doesn't calm down," the technician answered.

"Listen, honey, you have to hold still," the woman said gently, trying to soothe her, "What if I hold your hands while it happens."

"That would be irregular," the investigator said behind her.

The idea piqued Haylee's interest. She knew this punishment was going to happen, but she wasn't willing to not try to ameliorate it. Maybe getting some emotional support would help.

"I've seen guards hold prisoners down for their punishments. How is this any different?" the female guard snapped.

The woman was even fighting for her! Haylee knew that she had to accept this deal.

"I have to protest," the investigator said, "I'd have to throw my data out if the process is changed."

"I think it's ok. How does that change the procedure?" the technician asked.

"I'm trying to measure her anxiety levels and allowing the hand holding changes those."

"Hmmm," the technician sighed, "My first job is to carry out the punishment. Will you hold still if I allow it?"

It took a moment for Haylee to understand he was talking to her. "I'll t-try it," Haylee muttered through sobs.

"Fine, let's do it," the technician decided.

The investigator groaned, "I will be filing an official protest."

Haylee ignored that for now. The guard had reached out in a human way and that was what was going to get her through her punishment. She felt breath on her face as the guard kneeled in front of her and grabbed her hands, gently. The guard's thumbs traced circles over Haylee's hands and, nervously, Haylee realigned her hips and braced herself.

"Ok, your flogging is about to begin," the technician said.

There was a whirring sound like hydraulics were activating and then a long moment of silence.

Whoomph. "Aaaaggghhh," Haylee screamed and squeezed the guard's hands as a thick leather belt pounded her across both cheeks.

The hydraulics started again and then whoomph. The leather belt hit her in exactly the same place and Haylee screamed.

Whirr . . . whoomph. "Aaaggghhhh," Haylee screamed and then sucked in breath. Each blow pushed all the air out of her lungs and her sobbing made it hard to draw breath.

Whirr. "Stop." Whoomph. "Nooooo."

"It's ok, honey, just hold still," the guard whispered as the machine wound up.

Whoomph. Haylee screamed again. Every blow hit the same spot and the deep, thudding pain built and built.

Whirr . . . whoomph. Another scream escaped her lips. Her throat hurt and she needed to catch her breath, but the machine never stopped.

Whoomph. "Aaaggghhh, no, no, no."

Whoomph. "Stooopppp, please."

Whirr . . . whoomph. Haylee had run out of voice. Her lungs expelled her air and she could only suck it back in as the machine continued.

Whoomph. "Uggghhhh," Haylee groaned

"Halfway done, honey. You're doing great. Just one more minute."

Whoomph. The belt slammed into her butt again and she felt her flesh ripple underneath the blow. She wished it would hit somewhere else, just an inch or two higher or lower would make it better.

Whoomph. "Uggghhh, stop. It's too much."

Whirr . . . whoomph. "Aaagggh, please tell them it's too much," she begged, trying to get the guard's help again.

Whoomph. Haylee groaned. She wanted to run, but she was trapped. Instead she just squeezed her protector's hand.

"I can't, honey, I can't make it stop. You're almost done."

"But it's not f . . ." Whoomph. "Aaaggghh, I can't, I can't"

"Only five more," the woman told her. You're going to make it."

"Let me have a br . . ." Whoomph. Hayley groaned. Her butt couldn't take it anymore. She thought she'd never be able to sit again.

Whoomph. "Noooo," she cried.

Whirr . . .

Haylee had had enough. She wanted to jerk her ass to the right and out from under the strap.

Whoomph. "Please, please," she begged, "Just a short break."

The female guard squeezed Haylee's hands, "You've done so well. Almost done."

Whoomph. Haylee grunted and squeezed the guards hands for support. Haylee loved the stranger in front of her. She didn't even know her name but she couldn't have gotten through it without her .

Whoomph. Haylee screamed and then gulped for air as her lungs were spent.

Then the sound of the machine stopped and Haylee wondered what was going on. Slowly, she realized it was all over. She had lost count. She let her body sag from exhaustion ignoring the scratchy bench underneath her stomach.

The guard let go of her hands as she laid there. Haylee was so thankful for her. This stranger had broken protocols and even got in an argument to help her through her punishment and she wasn't stopping now. "I don't think you need to ask her any more questions since you're throwing out the survey anyway," she said to the investigator.

"I mean, I want . . ." the investigator stopped. Haylee imagined that the guard was glowering at him to get him to leave her alone. "Fine," he finally said angrily, "I guess I got all the video and pictures I need in case the judge needs them to invalidate the punishment."

Haylee was glad that he wouldn't be interrogating her after her ordeal, but his last comment started her rapidly firing brain again. Would he really complain to a judge just because the guard held her hands? Would she be going back to court and would the video of her punishment, with her legs spread wide open, end up in the public record.

In a few moments, she heard the cell open, and the technician wheel the machine out of the room.

"You can go, too," the female guard said.

"You can't be with a prisoner alone," the mean guard responded.

"You know it happens all the time and you don't need to be here."

"Fine, Shannon, maybe you're not cut out for this job."

"Maybe you should show some empathy!"

"She's a criminal."

"She's helpless and scared. Now go on to your next procedure!"

Haylee heard the door close and the mean guard's steps echoing off the cinderblock. Still blindfolded, she turned her head in the guard's general direction, "Thank you, thank you so much."

The guard sighed and Haylee felt her ankles being unleashed. Finally, she was able to close her legs. Soon her wrists were loose, and she pulled off the blindfold and tried to rub her bottom. The beaten flesh protested and she groaned.

She looked at the guard and saw that her eyes were puffy, like she had been fighting back tears while watching Haylee's ordeal. "So, you're Shannon?"

"Yeah, but you're not supposed to know that."

"I'm Haylee. Thanks for saving me. I couldn't do it without you."

"You're welcome. Nice to meet you, Haylee. You got through it yourself. You're very brave to survive this."

Haylee didn't know what to do. She wanted to hug her, but that probably wasn't allowed, plus the trestle was still between them. Finally, she offered the woman her hand. Shannon shook it and Haylee tried to fill the handshake with all the meaning she could muster. She was so thankful for the woman and there was no way she could put it into words.

A few minutes later, Haylee was dressed, and walking handcuffed down the hall to the exit. "Why are you here? You're too nice to be a part of all this," Haylee asked.

Shannon grabbed her arm and stopped their progress down the hall. "I've never told anyone this. I ask myself the same question all the time, but when I think about quitting, I remember that if all the nice people left, then it would only be the people like the other guard here." She paused, "You might be right, though. Maybe I don't belong here."

They continued down the hall and just before they exited the prison section, Haylee stopped. "Well, I'm glad people like you are here."

As Shannon uncuffed the younger woman she responded, "I'm sorry if you get in more trouble because of me."

"I couldn't have gotten through without you. If I have to come back then I hope to see you again," Haylee said, turning toward her former captor.

Shannon frowned, "You're a survivor now. You can make it through anything without my help."

Haylee nodded. As she walked out to her car she could only think of one thing, "I'm a survivor."