TITLE    : Quality Control Ch. 04
STORYID  : quality-control-ch-04
SUMMARY  : Scientists aren't always as dispassionate as they may seem.
AUTHOR   : Cal Y. Pygia@lit
DATE     : 2009-07-13
CATEGORY : bdsm-stories
FLAGS    : 
TAGS     : |lesbian|scientist|physicist|researcher|test|subject|fanny|ass|spanking|machine|


This time, the subject, Sandy, was a thin, almost emaciated, young black woman. Actually, given the high yellow of her skin tone, she was probably a mulatto, although, of course, in these politically correct times, such a term was taboo. Today, if anything, she'd be called "mixed" or "biracial." She was a good-looking little bitch, closely resembling a thinner, trimmer Halle Berry. Her light caramel-colored skin was perfectly suited to her large, dark brown eyes. She had a narrow nose for one of her ethnicity, but her lips were full and sensuous, although not as thick as some of her racial makeup.



Dr. Fanny Fanner was not a racist in the least, but, if the truth were to be told, she'd chosen Sandy as the subject in the testing of the latest of Spank-o-Matic's line of spanking machines because she wanted this participant to be black instead of white. It wasn't racism as such, however, that led to the scientist's preference for a black, over a white, subject. Instead, Dr. Fanner was motivated in making her selection by her desire to include as much variety as possible among the spanking subjects, purely to satisfy the physicist's own lately discovered lesbian leanings. She was a human being, after all, and not merely a scientist. As long as the subject met the general criteria, there was nothing wrong, the researcher had told herself, in mixing a little dark meat with the light.



Debbie, Dr. Fanner's Amazon-size, Amazon-strong, but ultra-feminine, girlfriend, whom the scientist had met during the test of the company's previous spanking machine design, wouldn't mind if her lover satisfied her appetite for a taste of chocolate. She'd better not, anyway. Although Dr. Fanner had become quite fond of Debbie, the physicist had insisted, from the very start of their relationship, in having her cake (Debbie's pussy) and eating it (other women's cunts), too. Debbie had told Dr. Fanner that she was fine with the scientist's decision.



The little black bitch had little black tits, only they weren't truly black, of course. They were the color of caramel, and the dark nipples that topped them were the color of dark chocolate. They looked tasty, Dr. Fanner thought. She hoped to sample them after the test had been conducted, as she also hoped to have a sip of the liquid goodness between her subject's slender, well-tapered thighs. A tiny waist connected the young woman's upper body with her lower, her ribcage flowing into gently curving hips. The young woman kept her twat shaved, and the dark labia were evident in the small mound of her pubic area. Sandy had long limbs; a strong, but delicate, back; and surprisingly full, firm buttocks, despite her slender build.



The beautiful black woman had been secured in place, with her biceps bound to her thighs so that she'd assumed a near-fetal position, and her hands were bound behind her back. Sandy was suspended, by cords that passed under her armpits, over an electric fan. Spatula-like paddles were attached to the ends of the fan's blades so that, turning with the fan blades, they would strike Sandy's buttocks, which hung directly above them.



Like the other test subjects before her, Sandy had signed the necessary legal papers. Dr. Fanner took up her pen and clipboard, and, standing behind the suspended subject, she bent, set the machine's speed to "Slow," pressed the button on the base of the fan that activated the device, and set the machine's blades into motion.



The silliest-looking machine of those which Dr. Fanner had tested so far, the contraption's operation certainly didn't look very promising. The blades slapped the black woman's bottom, bap! bap! bap!, but the sight and sound of the instrument was more comical, the scientist thought, than anything else.



Round and round, the slow-motion blades rotated, as if they were attached to a tiny windmill that was being turned by a faint breeze. Nevertheless, Sandy's buttocks tightened and she flinched, gasping at the stoke of each paddle. Like the redhead to whose fanny Dr. Fanner had subjected an earlier machine's sturdy paddles, the mulatto seemed a virgin to discipline of this sort, and, as the spatula-like paddles continued to slap her ass cheeks, she struggled harder, swinging and jouncing in the cords by which she was suspended over the machine. Her gasps included an occasional moan as well, suggesting that her discomfort had increased, although no telltale signs of discoloration or marks of any kind had as yet appeared upon her bottom.



Dr. Fanner consulted her watch. A minute had nearly passed, and it was time to change the machine's setting from "Slow" to "Fast." She bent over the fan, made the adjustment, and stood back, camera in hand to document the condition of the young woman's caramel-colored ass as the second phase of the test commenced. There was nothing to show for the first minute of the machine's operation on "Slow," as the photograph of the subject's unspoiled buttocks would clearly indicate.



The blades were turning much faster now, and the spatula-like attachments swatted the black woman's buttocks with more force, coming faster and faster. Sandy cried out, startled at the increased speed and the greater intensity of the spanks that fanned her fanny. She struggled even harder in the harness of cords that kept her suspended above the whirling paddles. The strikes came thick and fast, beating her buttocks with the regular and relentless efficiency possible only to a mindless and merciless machine.



After each swat, Sandy screamed, her cries a counterpoint to the rhythm of the spanking's regular beat. Her shrieks were music to Dr. Fanner's ears, and the physicist felt a seepage of warm moisture between her own legs, jus as she had on every previous occasion that she'd had the pleasure of observing a beautiful young woman getting her ass beaten.



Bap! Whap! Slap! Whack! Crack! The revolving paddles swatted and spanked the mulatto's ass cheeks, and, even through their caramel color, Dr. Fanner began to see the first hint of a pinkish tint. Taking a most unscientific personal interest in the test, the scientist hoped that, soon, Sandy's lovely ass would be made all the lovelier by its being transformed into a tomato-red expanse of tenderized flesh, decorated, perhaps, with a few welts and bruises.



The women usually started to get teary-eyed by the middle of the second phase of the test, and Sandy proved to be no exception, her dark eyes shimmering behind her tears. The black woman jerked and swung and thrashed about in the cords from which, contorted by her bonds into a fetal position, she hung above the pitiless blades of the whirling fan and the paddles attached to them. Round the paddles came, round and round, in a continuous, fluid motion, always at the same speed, striking the firm flesh of Sandy's tender bottom so that the pink flush deepened, reddening the caramel-colored flesh of her well-spanked ass. The gasps and cries turned to sobs as the gorgeous biracial woman wept openly and unashamedly.



Dr. Fanner photographed her subject's buttocks again, smiling to see the rosy color that had filled the full cheeks, imparting a merry glow to their light-brown, buttery complexion. Then, the physicist bent for a third time over the machine, setting its speed to "Fast."



The blades of the fan, and the paddles attached to them, spun so quickly now that they blurred, the paddles striking Sandy's red ass with each flashing pass, so that her cheeks were slapped three times each second. With a full minute to operate at this speed, the machine would administer 180 spanks before shutting off. Despite its ludicrous appearance, this machine might deliver far more than Dr. Fanner had anticipated. It might well outperform all the previous contraptions the scientist had tested. Poor Sandy! Would the slender black girl be able to stand such a number of swats upon her defenseless, bare behind?



Sandy's sobs had turned into howls, as, lurching and straining in her cradle of cords, it must seem to her anguished mind that the spanking had had no beginning and would never end. All she knew was the fire in her bottom and the seemingly interminable, unrelenting assault of the paddles upon her inflamed, pain-filled posterior. Tears streamed down the black woman's lovely face, and mucus coated her upper lip, dripping, like her tears, from her cheeks and chin. Like the subjects in the spanking machine tests that had been conducted before this one, Sandy had also been aroused by the pain, and she'd released a large puddle of cunt juice onto the floor beneath her swinging, writhing buttocks. Dr. Fanner's cunt had likewise flooded itself, as it always did when she delighted in the sight of a beautiful young woman's ass being thrashed. She could feel her lubricating fluids flowing down her inner thighs, and orgasm was imminent.



The scientist had never masturbated in the presence of one of her subjects, fearing that she might be observed, but, as she was standing behind Sandy and the poor victim of the paddles' relentless assault was so caught up in the powerful sensations of pain and misery that afflicted her, Dr. Fanner decided, on impulse, to chance doing so, through her slacks, rather than naked, of course, and, as she watched the spinning blades spank her unwilling subject's ass, the physicist twiddled her clitoris through the fabric of her slacks, at once experiencing a jolting orgasm that flooded her cunt anew as it brought the scientist nearly to her knees. Recovering, she continued to fiddle with her clit, and another orgasm exploded inside her pussy, followed by a third, and a fourth.



So caught up in the throes of pleasure had the scientist been that Dr. Fanner was surprised to see that, with twenty seconds--or another sixty spanks--left before it was to cease its operation, the machine had stopped. On the floor, one of its spatula-like paddles lay, broken off from the fan's blade to which it had been attached, and a second paddle, also snapped off, had caught between its blade and the body of the machine, thereby bringing the contraption to a stop. The motor continued to try to drive the rotor that spun the blades, but, jammed, the machine refused to work, and a tendril of smoke, rising from the device, quickly became a thick column. Dr. Fanner, despite the weakness that had ensued her multiple orgasms, crept forward, shutting off the machine before it could catch fire. Retaining enough presence of mind to photograph Sandy's well-spanked, red-and-purple ass, and careful to include in the shot, the welts and bruises that the constant spanking had raised from her flesh, the scientist set aside her camera, noted the lamentable facts that the machine's paddle attachments were neither durable nor dependable, and set her subject free.



Like the others before her, Sandy was unable to walk unassisted, and Dr. Fanner helped her to the couch in the anteroom through which they'd earlier entered the spanking chamber. Gingerly, Sandy lowered her fire-filled ass onto the couch's deep, soft cushions, grimacing as her weight sank her buttocks into the upholstered pads. The poor thing could sit there as long as she needed to do so, Dr. Fanner thought, which might be a long, long time, indeed.



This time, though, the scientist decided against offering to ease her victim's pain. She'd gotten away with her lesbian indulgences twice now, once with the redheaded subject and once with the brunette subject. The latter had become her girlfriend. Although Sandy was lovely and Dr. Fanner hankered for a taste of her dark meat, she was no longer willing to risk her job for the chance to eat pussy, not when she had, in her girlfriend Debbie, all the cunt she could want. Besides, watching the beautiful black woman get spanked had enabled the physicist to experience not one, not two, and not even three, but four powerful orgasms. Dr. Fanner felt quite drained, both of cunt juice and of passion.



Instead, she returned to the spanking chamber, took a seat at the desk she'd had installed, and started to write out her recommendations for changes in the designs of the spanking machines she'd tested. Then, a stroke of genius befell her, and she wrote, "Combine the best features of all four while eliminating the flaws of each!"



Yes! That was the solution. Keep the revolving paddles, but add the spanking levers, too. Keep the three speeds, but give customers the option of using either a spanking bench or the cradle of cords. By all means, retain the restraints, lest the victim want to end a session prematurely. Combine the strengths of each design. Eliminate the weaknesses.



The result would be a spanking machine that Dr. Fanner herself, most definitely, would buy.



Moreover, helping to test such a machine as its bugs and flaws were detected and corrected and the design was streamlined and improved would keep her gainfully employed for many months to come, enjoying the spankings of many another lovely young woman, all with her own girlfriend's knowledge and consent.



Her fingers trembled with excitement as, using her touch-tone 'phone, she tapped in the number to the president's private line. When he answered, she said, "Sir, this is Dr. Fanner, and do I have an idea for you!"

