Tales of Dunnis Urom Ch. 03

This part continues the story of four citizens of the large (fantasy) city of DunnisUrom.

Tasi and Kasti, two young women, who came to the enclave of the order of Sattva to attend a purity-punishment service have found themselves unexpectedly in a more intense punishment session that either expected.

Maci, the daughter of a wealthy family, had been goading into insulting the Mother's Council and was sent to the enclave for further discipline.

Bryce, who was remanded to the Mother's Council by the courts, has also found himself under the enclave's care.

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DUEX : MACI

They didn't exactly "clean her up." If the crone, Mother Kane, was disappointed by her lack of being fed to mucks, she didn't dwell on it. The woman could plainly see something had happened down in their punishment cell and she worked with careful consideration and a number of assistants to "prepare her"--for something. Maci couldn't stand up--her thighs lacked strength when held together. She could squat, it seemed, but not stand. Mother Kane inspected her naked bottom carefully, spreading this, slipping a finger into that.

After a few minutes of pondering, and checking, she called the girls to get a number of different clothing items to see which she liked best. She looked hard at Maci in different outfits and then shook her head and adjusted things. Maci was not in much condition to complain to the crone--but she did think that if the woman was wondering what happened to her... she could have asked. Maci wasn't in much condition to speak--but she'd probably have answered.

As it was, she was pliant--spreading open as the old woman wiped her and dried her sex. Obeying when the girls put a fine blouse on her and buttoned it. She remained still as one girl brushed her hair.

"No, no, no--not that," said the crone, growing more agitated--but not with Maci. It seemed time for something was running out. "Something more... hmmm. Something--ah!" she gave a cackle Maci didn't like at all. Mother Kane said something to the girl and she skipped off, returning a short time later with a very odd set of panties. They were full coverage but seemed to be made of some slick, solid,stretchy material like a skin more than a fabric.

"Mother Kane can see things too!" the old woman said, to herself, apparently. She stooped to fasten them around her. They had snaps at the hips and she adjusted this and that. Maci instantly disliked them. They stuck to her skin, holding close, and the material didn't breathe at all! They were not painfully tight but seemed to seal against her such that she could see each of her nether lips plainly.

The feel of them was exotic, like she was sealed inside some flexible soft shell. When she clenched her nethers, it was plainly visible to anyone watching.

"Good!" Mother Kane enthused, looking at her area. The panties or ... whatever they were a pale, suggestive pink. "Get her a skirt that covers nothing!" said the matron. "And put her in a high chair to show these off!" She looked Maci in the eye: "close those thighs and I'll flay your puss!" she hissed--Maci, terrified, recoiled. The girls saw to her--the flimsy cloth they called a skirt, did, in fact, cover nothing.

When she tried to stand, her thighs quivered and her nether lips felt bloated and full and pushing against them at all ached! She settled for crawling with the girls, keeping her knees far apart. The crone didn't need to threaten her--she couldn't stand closing her thighs!

The girls smirked and when one of them reached down from behind to run her fingers over Maci's covered folds, she realized she couldn't get any sensation through the slick material. Clearly these were meant to prevent masturbation.

They took her to another room--nicely appointed--with a wooden high-chair in the center. They helped her up onto it, sitting her, facing a door. One of them pulled her hair out of her face and positioned her to sit up straight. Her knees were as far apart as she could get them. She had to roll her hips some to alleviate her pressure on her sex. She whimpered--and the girls, having positioned her awfully, stepped away.

She was alone--for the moment.

"Task?" she whimpered, her voice a whisper.

"Yes, Maci?" the voice bubbled up. It wasn't in her mind--but she could hear it and she thought someone else would need to be very close to her to hear it as well.

"What's happening?" she asked.

"We're getting close to something... interesting," the voice said.

That didn't help much.

"What should I do?" she asked it.

"Just sit there and look fetching," Task told her. "Don't close your legs. The kraken-skin panties were the right decision. The old woman must have some sight."

"I don't... understand." she told it.

"I know," Task said. "I can't explain it to you now. Just do as you're told." It said. After a pause: "Or else," it added unnecessarily.

AN HOUR BEFORE: MACI AND TASK

"You are going to 'carry' me with you," Task told her, sitting on its haunches. "I am going to... " it thought of the word... "Infest you."

"Infest me!?" Maci was horrified.

"It's not as bad--well, maybe it is bad as it sounds--but it isn't permanent and I will actually help you, human child."

"You'll... infest me to do--what? Why??"

"To travel with you. You are going to be involved in something--close to something--that I want. I can smell it on you--and so, I'm going to use you as my carriage." It said.

"In return, I will help you. I am, after all, very smart. I will give you good advice and help you out of any unhealthy situations. There may well be some. This tangle I smell is complex and risky."

Maci could follow it well enough to know that she was in... some kind of danger? Possibly in some peril? And it was claiming it could assist her. She swallowed. She was naked, punished, and chained to a wall by a collar. She needed help.

"What do I do?" she asked it.

"Open your legs up. I am going to... it'll feel like me crawling inside--but I'm going to merge. It isn't pleasant, I'm afraid." It didn't sound very sorry.

"H-how--what does that--" Maci was horrified.

"Unclean," it said, "are like... mmm.... do you know what a pearl is?"

"A sea gem?" Maci said dubiously. Her father did deal in exotics. Mostly from the desert--but some from the southern seas. Pearls were highly prized among the wealthy ladies of DunnisUrom.

"Yes--sort of. There is an animal--"

"An oyster?" Maci asked. She had remembered her father talking about a potential delivery of the things.

"Exactly that," said Task, like it was talking to a good student. "Now, what happens is that a grain of sand gets into the oyster and it irritates the thing--and the animal builds up a... well, a shell around it. In some cases this becomes a pearl."

She nodded.

"When you humans misbehave you create karma. This irritates the universe for lack of a better way to explain it--and instead of pearls, we unclean are created."

"Oh." She had understood unclean to be a spontaneous generation--rising out of dirty laundry, fouled sewers, and deep deposits of rot. But this thing... seemed to know what it spoke of.

"This is why we punish you--our function is to redress the karma that created us. Not the specific human or act--it's all mixed together and more complex than that--but I am a function of punishment. So when I infest you, it's going to be unpleasant."

Maci stared at it. But: "I--I don't want to be infested or whatever you mean, Task," she said softly. "Please--"

"I am going to have you one way or the other, girl-child," the thing said reasonably. "In this case since we can both profit, I am offering you a substantial reward. It's one you do not deserve," it observed. "I would prefer you not speak of me--and this--since it would likely interfere with whatever is going to happen. However, as I said, this is going to happen, like it or not. You are badly behaved and my function is to punish you, so I'm going to do it. I can make things somewhat better--or much, much worse."

She looked at it. It didn't look like much. The hunting cats were scarier, really.... to look at. But--it was an unclean--a monster. And she was chained down here with it.

"I could have waited until the mucks got you," it pointed out. "Trust me that accommodating me after that would be far, far worse for you."

She bit her lower lip. It was so inhuman--yet so... reasonable. It was a bit ugly and unpleasant to look at--and she smelled a scent from it now--one that she thought of as a boy's unwashed cock and balls--but she hadn't had much experience.

"Figure it out quickly," said Task. "Because this takes a little time and we haven't much."

"Ughhh--fuck." she swore. Its eyes narrowed. "I mean Foo!" she corrected herself. "I--I need your help," she conceded. She wasn't sure with what--but she needed any help she could get.

"Open your legs up then, girl-child." It said.

Whimpering, she did and it crawled forward.

It moved like it was stalking her--careful, creeping steps, sniffing at her. Up close, its body jiggled like it was made of jelly. It had paws that all seemed to be the same material--even the claw-shapes that poked out were of the same translucent blue material. She could see what looked like organs swelling and pulsing inside and veins under the flesh that seemed to rush with some fluid.

It was an ugly, scary little thing.

It moved a paw leg gently over her vulva. And sniffed!

"Quite the little masturbator, girl-child," it observed. She blushed fiery red. It sniffed closer and she flinched. "I am going to enter through your vagina," it announced. "I ought do it the other way--but that's much worse and we are allies now."

Small blessings, she thought wildly. She had never really seen an unclean--heard about them, of course--visited a friend in the wards who was taken one night (after being disobediently out celebrating with friends and boys) and she had looked savaged--her buttocks were swollen to twice their normal size and she was leaking horrible smelling greenish slime from both her anus and sex. The physicians described it as a magical malady--a curse of sorts--caught from the unclean which had taken her in awful ways.

She'd recovered after a time--but it had clearly been a horrible, scary experience!

The thing inserted one of its forelimbs into her vagina. She felt the slick skin enter and she felt a surge of violation and panic. It felt DIRTY--so dirty--like someone had defecated in her channel!! She arched and gasped and tried to expel it. She swore in gasping breaths--some of them the childish allowed words--other less so. When she used those words she felt a sudden pop from its paw, still sliding deeper in, like the kiss of a crop--and she yowled.

"Your muscular tone is poor," It commented--now both of its paws were in her and she was stretched and ohh--owww--and it felt FILTHY!! She was moaning. "I'm going to assign you some exercises," it told her grimly.

"Please--hurry," she begged. She battled the urge to slam her legs together and try to crush it--or grab it and pull it out.

"You're being punished," Task snapped at her. "You deserve it--and you will accommodate me obediently!"

"Ow!! No!! I can't take it--" she cried out--it felt like a man's fist in her vagina--and getting bigger! She broke and made to grab it. Her hands were almost around it when Task raised its head and took her clitoris in its mouth.

Her scream came out as a light gasp. She was on her back, legs spread as wide as she could get them, hands clutching each other--any move--any intention it seemed--led to an instant shock. Bolts of... discomfort--as unbearable as being tickled but different, blazed from her clit, inside, around her buttocks--down her legs.

The discomfort was paralyzing and stripped her of control. When her bowels spasmed it stuck a foot in. This felt like a large sausage being inserted and she made soft choking howls. When it gave her clitoris a lick--seemingly for no good reason at all--she peed--or tried to--and it stuck a long thin tongue deep into her urethra.

Now it hugged against her from anus to the top of her vulva, quivering.

She lay there--spread and gasping, tears in her eyes, as it stretched its way in.

When they found her she was laying on the stone floor spread wide open--her region looking swollen and pink.

DUEX- MIDDENS : MACI

Now she sat in the display chair. Her hands were cuffed with short ropes to the arms. Enough that she could move them a bit but not far. Her ankles were lightly cuffed as well--she couldn't close her legs even if she hadn't been. The blouse she wore was a high woman's clothes though--and she wondered why she was dressed above the waist in such finery. Her mother might only owe a couple of this quality.

Why had they dressed a filthy--oh did she feel dirty--punished girl in it?

Under the kraken-skin panties her skin felt like it had been dipped in sewage. It looked okay--swollen and tender, yes--but not dripping with gross slime--but it FELT that way and the horrible rubbery skin garment trapped any discharge mercilessly against her skin.

Light filtered in through the curtain hung over the window and she squirmed in a sea of discomforts.

"Someone's close," Task whispered. It was inside her now--all through her. She could feel an unpleasant heaviness in her breasts. Her stomach felt oddly full--and she was as bloated feeling as she had ever been on her monthly.

She looked up though, just as the door opened.

DUEX - MIDDENS: ARTISAN TANARIS CRAY

On the way out of the splinter-enclave Tanaris had summoned three daemons--small whirls of force and probability to chastise the unfortunates in the stocks. He was in a prickly mood and giving the unfortunates something to cry about pleased him. The Art would manifest as small explosions of pain under their buttocks--he calibrated it fo feel like a smack with a wooden spoon.

The girl who'd begged him lay listlessly in the restraints. The dust the girl had painted her bare feet with had tickled her mercilessly for a good ten or fifteen minutes. When the first report of the spankings he had conjured resounded, he heard a plaintive cry and he entered the carriage without looking back.

Vivian had told him that from the inside the tangle he couldn't study the thing. Even as highly trained as he was, if it was big enough--and he was deep enough--he just couldn't. She told him she thought that if he was so thickly entangled that was likely why it seemed so close to her. He was discomfited enough by this that he'd have borrowed her for additional punishment (he assessed she could use it!) save for the fact that he didn't want her more involved. Whatever it was, it was going to pose significant choices and those might go badly. Furthermore, if she was close by outside of it, she could still see it.

It was close to breaking which meant some significant opportunity or danger was going to blind-side him! And how had he gotten ensnared? Artisans like himself were supposed to be aware of these things--able to step into or out of them while common folks just stumbled around unaware of the cosmic machinery he could glimpse a shadow of!

His punished, ungraduated sister had made this observation easily enough! Mmmph! Annoying. Certainly, for being under-punishment, she needed a little more, he thought--his pettiness conjuring images of his sister stretched out on one of the punishment racks in the enclave. He shook his head to clear it. The problem wasn't Vivian. The problem was that he had somehow stumbled into something important--to who? To him, sure--but to who else?--and had flailed around like a first year student, He'd counted on his training and sense of distance to insulate him from the tangle--even if he got close to it. He'd been swallowed up and--Sattva's Grasp! He was angry at himself.

On reflection he felt slightly bad about the three unfortunates he'd assigned spankings for on his way out. They were certainly plenty uncomfortable already. They would know where the spectral slaps came from--he wore the livery of an order artisan--but it would still be distressing for them above the discomfort of the strokes.

He leaned back in the carriage and pinched his nose. He just wanted to make it through the day and get back to the enclave without some key event in his life going wrong. When he got back, he'd check in with the punishment masters and see if there was a high rank supplicant who really had it coming to them!

The rap from the carriage driver snapped him out of his ruminations. He was here--at the esteemed Mother's Council. Sattva knew whatever THEY wanted--but he had offered his liaison a year and a half ago as one of the more eligible members of the order.

Little had come of it. They couldn't just "arrange" him--he was an artisan of rank. He knew they were inclined to look for girls within the order to suggest to him--but he had felt--if he couldn't outright state it--that he'd rather someone else. The acolytes and young mistresses were--well, there was nothing wrong with them. They were inviting. They would also, certainly, understand his proclivities quite well. Maybe that was the problem?

"Master Artisan Cray," the woman's voice had the expected strains of age--but it was strong and pleasant, and best of all, the old woman's voice and stance suggested absolutely no intimidation--neither by his office in the order, nor his art. That was all too rare outside the walls of the enclave.

"Mother Kane," he nodded.

"Margaret," she smiled. "Please."

Tanaris," he said. He did his best to suppress a smile but he knew she caught it. Heh. "What did you need me for this day," he asked pleasantly. They were walking. He heard a familiar sound--the sound of a great whip being cracked in the air. The full force of it would rarely be used against skin--but he assumed the task mistress was using the snap to make a point to her subjects. A high pitched but male yip floated over.

He didn't doubt that the Mothers had scheduled some planned discipline to coincide with his arrival.

"There is something I want to ask you about," Mother Kane said, inclining her head to listen to another yowl, :"I felt it delicate--but something your expertise might assist with."

A question about Art then, he thought. A delicate one. These things were entirely plausible. Women with a birthing writ might have trouble conceiving. A high status woman petitioning the Mother's Council might even warrant a visit from an order friend. Or perhaps a member of the council had come under some mystical malady. Certainly a member of the Mother's Council would not want to submit herself to the awful indignities of the hospitals.

They passed through a doorway and down a short, pleasantly decorated hall. He could smell a confusion of scents--perfume--but also the scent of female sex. The girls in the house were under tight discipline. He didn't wonder about the smells.

"This way to the drawing room," said Mother Kane. She opened the door to a side room. Tanaris blinked. A girl was, unsurprisingly, being punished--or had been. She sat in an elevated wooden chair, her thighs spread. She looked.... miserable.

Smudged, drooping, touchingly unhappy! His eyes played over her. She had fine and clean fingers and toenails--soft looking hands. A higher status girl, then, he thought. Her blouse, the only normal clothes she'd been left with, told him that much. A humiliation skirt was little more than a ruffle around her waist. But what then?

Mother Kane was leading him past her. He felt sure her position to wait out her sentence was calculated to have a visiting boy pass by! But the women of the Mother's Council had dealt a fascinating element of her punishment! The panties she'd been dressed in were pink and gleaming-exotic.