I {heart} pillories!

I love 'em. The very idea leads to shortness of breath: what could be hotter than being exposed to public scorn? I'd rather not have dead cats and paving stones thrown at me (as frequently happened when devices like this were in use by the state), but for an exhibitionist with a taste for humiliation . . .

For a more private setting, I find James Piatt's pillory table really, really hot, particularly if I were being denied sustenance.