Tales of Dunnis Urom Ch. 03

They clung to her so closely that he could see the shape of her vulva as though she'd been naked! Her obscenely spread legs showed off the swelling--a biological reaction of excitement to the treatment--but also, he thought the result of something else.

Her eyes drooped as she looked out at him. Despite her ordeal she was able to flinch when he entered and she colored. The spray of freckles on her nose and cheeks stood out when that happened. He forced himself to tear his eyes away. She was wretchedly looking at him--weakly horrified to be seen in this state.

He felt himself react. Had she been punished enough? Clearly the evidence of his eyes pointed to "yes"--but he asked Mother Kane. "This unfortunate's ordeal is all but finished?"

The woman seemed mildly surprised he'd even acknowledged the girl--but she grinned. Making a penitent the subject of conversation in their presence was welcome to almost all disciplinarians.

"Oh no, Tamarin--this one has a good deal of suffering out before her! Disparagement, insult, and disrespect before the council!" The old woman cackled. "She will find a great deal more to be sorry about before we are through!"

"Are those underpants--" he asked.

"Kraken skin!" the crone said. True to form, the girl looked horrified and squirmed in a vain attempt to close her legs.

"I'd thought the skin of the Devis Octopi," he said, considering her. "But Kraken??"

"Oh yes! Fine apparel--especially suited to the punished. Her dirty parts are trapped under the flexible skin--tightly--so they can get no relief through the layer of flesh. She will develop itches and the wetness of her wontoness will soak her!"

He nodded. Her panic--and her anger--was amusing. She was furious with this woman. Cowed, for now, certainly, he thought. Certainly highly distressed and helpless--he found the tears on her cheeks touching! But she was not broken by the woman. She seethed and broiled. The humiliation was plain on her face and she couldn't hide it, so she cried before him--not hard--but a trickle of tears showing her current defeat.

"Well, if she has much to go," he said to Margrate Kane, "I think perhaps, I can do her the favor of hurrying her along." He summoned his will and accessed a mnemonic that unlocked multiple doorways in his mind, tugging strands of probability and creating small daemons of subtle causes. The effects... were quick. The girl gave a high pitched noise of OUTRAGE and DISCOMFORT!

She squirmed in panic--her bottom sliding unassuaged over the smooth wood of the chair was appealing, he thought. The Art he had worked was one he had co-created with Vivian in school. It was overly complex, perhaps but the payoff was worth it in his opinion. It conjured around the skin and especially, under the hood of the clitoris an intense, intense itch. The itch was merciless in its assault and on her tenderest spot it was unbearable.

She squealed! Her eyes were bright with horror and rage!

"YOU FUCK!" she wailed. She arched and shifted--the patines ensured there would be no relief whatsoever.

He allowed a smirk at Mother Kane's flare of anger at the girl's unwise swearing--and at a man! A visitor to the Mother's Hall! An Artisan of the order!! Oh! She was in for it, indeed.

"How long will the Art last," she asked him as the girl thrashed. The high char was sturdy and had a solid, heavy base--else she would have fallen over!

"Oh--that misery lasts a while," he said.

"Well then, perhaps you can see her on the way out," suggested Mother Kane. "She will be due another unpleasantness!" Her smile suggested a cackle,. He shook his head, amused. The girl was struggling and moaning.

Looking back over his shoulder, he thought about how Vivian's wife-mistress had thought she looked cute with a smudged nose and face. She may have been on to something..

MACI

Maci was suffering terribly. The order bastard had worked an Art--something dreadful--and now her most delicate spot flared with an unbearable itch. It was in the most intimate of places and, trapped under the rubbery panties, it might as well have been on the moon for all she could reach it to scratch!

She worked to force her hips over and her fingers--stretching and grasping--trying to reach the waistband of the panties. Oh--no-no-no!! It was unendurable! She gnashed her teeth--sobs bubbling out and tried jerking her bottom to the side, desperate to get the wildly unpleasant itch to where her fingers could reach it.

She bucked then, trying to over turn the chair--imagining it breaking and her being free to peel the awful panties of and then sink her nails into the tormented and tormenting--flesh.

She couldn't! She let out a moan of dispair! No--no!! NO!!

Tears flowed. She had enough breath to try again--and she did, failing as before. And again--NO! Her clit--its bulge visible in the snug embrace of the panites was an added, awful humiliation. She wailed--she hoped she was loud enough to annoy someone--even if she knew getting their attention would not help her.

She released a bit of urine--hoping in desperation to somehow wash the accursed itch off. It was a huge mistake and didn't help one bit. She now had to sit in the warm filth of her own pee.

She sobbed wretchedly/ It felt like hours had passed when the door opened. She couldn't help being excited--the chance of this granting her some relief--no matter how small was all consuming. Her eyes begged. He saw the two--the nasty crone and the horrid artisan, involved in some conversation.

Part of her quailed--what if he did worse? What if he just did more of it??

She couldn't help begging though. The itch was unbearable.

"Master--please--please, forgive me!" she begged. "Please, the punishment is more than I can bare--oh--please!" Her voice collapsed into heaving cries as she realized she sounded, even to herself, like someone complaining overmuch about her reprimand.

She needed to get through to him how terribly, terribly contrite she really was.

"Girl!" snapped the crone. Oh-no, Maci wailed internally. The crone looked at her--fixing her with those piercing blue eyes. even In the depths of her discomfort, she felt a chill of fear in the calculation of that gaze. "I have heard you howling your pretty little head off--sparrow! Singing so loudly!" the old woman gave a hideous cackle!

"Since you have sang so well, I will give you a choice."

Maci blinked through tears. Any option that would address her clitoris was one she would take. It didn't matter what it was.

"Since you so rudely swore at our guest, little sparrow, you must apologize by submitting yourself to us."

Maci was certain she was going to be told to suck his cock and she would do it! Ohh--gladly---oh, PLEASE!!

"You are to tell us the most humiliating fantasy to which you rub your dirty little nub--if the artisan believes you have done so--if it is scaldingly humiliating enough--then you will be released."

Her smile was wicked. Maci stared--oh mercy--oh, no--not that--let me suck his cock--let him have me! PLEASE!! NOT THAT!!--"

Tears rolled down her face--but the horrible sparkle in her eyes showed she meant it. For moments, she was on the verge of deciding the terrible, aggressive itch wasn't that bad! But the absolute bitch turned to hustle him off and trapped in the 'kraken panties' her clitoris agonized to be scratched.

Snuffling in tears she cried out: "I'll do it--oh mercy--I'll do it!"

Both of them turned to where she sat, spread, sobbing.

Task's voice was low in her ears. "Make it good, girl-child or her punishment will be nothing compared to mine." An uncomfortable heaviness seemed to fill her lower regions in threat.

She opened her mouth, mind racing.

NO! She couldn't--

"Yes," hissed Task. "That one. Tell it to them--in punishing detail or you will suffer much worse!"

Tears fell from her eyes. Foo! Ohh--and then, her voice shaking with tears, she told them the most horrible of the stories she had rubbed herself to in the privacy of her bathroom at home. The tale of Phaedra and the Minotaur.

The Minotaur of antiquity was the child of a queen of Crete and an enchanted bull. It was an Unclean of royal lineage and it was housed in a diabolic labyrinth under the palace. Each year daughters of vassal countries were summoned to the palace and made to serve the cruel king Minos and the men and women of the court. After the daughters of conquered royalty were subjected to every possible imaginable degradation, they were returned, shamed and rather the worse for wear--but if any girl showed defiance? She was sent down into the labyrinth and hunted by the minotaur--in the tales--which started with the girl younger sister of Phaedra, the younger girl was defiant and was well whipped and cast into the mouth of the labyrinth. She could have her freedom when she exited its halls--but if the Minotaur caught her... it would have her until it was satisfied.

In the story, it had her: lost in the maze of cleverly shifting walls, she was smelt by it--and it stalked her and---when she found her way to a corridor that ended with no exit, it fell upon her. The tale (which set up the heroic Phaedra to seduce and tame the minotaur) had details about the trials the younger girl endured in its clutches.

It's equine cock split her so that she bled like she had her monthly. It had her so she could no longer hold her bowels such was her rear passage punished, Its massive testacles were such that it could fill her in every way, pumping her overflowing with its seed. Her stomach swelled as though she had taken a heavy colonic and when she utterly collapsed the man beast placed her body over it;s knee and slapped her buttocks until she found more reserve to try to please it.

In the end bruised in every inner channel and overflowing with its cum, it deposited her where she could crawl to where the soldiers were waiting--splattering her with a hose of its steaming urine.

Maci, drooping in shame repeated this. She noticed--somewhere in the bottom of her shame of recounting her orgasm to the girl's horrible fate, the awful itch had dwindled to just a buzz of discomfort and as she wound down, the glee in the crone's eyes seemed horribly cruel to her! Oh--that witch! That bitch!!

She shuddered.

"I think that was almost enough," the crone cackled. "However, I feel you should still give our guest a proper apology."

She meant sucking his penis, of course--on her knees. She wasn't experienced with this. She had slept with a boy--a very submissive boy--who had done anything she'd asked but didn't last long at all (she'd contented herself with spanking him--which she'd enjoyed--and then having him use his tongue on her until she finished)--but she had never taken a penis in her mouth.

For the man's part, he looked somewhat shocked at her storytelling. She had made certain to tell it in the most mortifying fashion to secure release from the unbearable itch and he looked, as she'd expect, taken aback. He was no doubt rightly disgusted with her.

""Margaret," the man said, using her proper name--"While I--"

'I'll not hear of a girl under our roof using such a swear against an important guest such as yourself and not issuing a suitably thorough apology--" Mother Kane said with stern emphasis.

"Yes, Mother--Kane," the man said--trying out her title--"I have to be back at the enclave--there are things--"

"By all means!" Beamed the crone. "Go--go!! You will be done with your duties this evening I presume?"

"Well--I--" he said. Maci thought he was clearly trying to get away from her as fast as possible and she didn't blame him.

"She will be delivered to the enclave to issue her apology and bundled back out when you are done with her. A carriage will be waiting." The woman assured him, leading him out. She hung her head, sobbing deep in humiliation.

"Magnificent," said Task, making her raise her head.

"W-what?" she asked softly.

"Very well done. I'd assumed you were going to suckle his penis--but that--that was brilliant of the ancient woman."

She was in no mood at all to hear the thing--the unclean--infesting her--compliment Mother Margaret Kane on her punishment skills. If she could move, she'd have kicked herself on the chance that it might hurt the thing too.

Mother Kane was a blur of motion, however. She was taken off the high chair, relieved to be free and managed to hobble to a provided cushion to lay on. The girls stripped off the "kraken panties'' which came away showing her wet and slightly discolored and swollen. The utter humiliation of being seen like that was compounded by the girl's obvious delight in her suffering.

Mother Kane oversaw the cleaning of her--which was wonderful beyond measure--but compounded the vulnerability she felt.

"Fetch the boy!" Mother Kane commanded. "Our sparrow is going to spend the rest of the day until FELLS practicing on his cock!"

FELLS

Bryce's testacles were sore and aching and swollen. His cock was screaming for release. He had difficulty walking after the poor girl had spent hours on her knees with her mouth on his penis and the girls both coaching her and slapping her naked buttocks whenever she faltered.

He had had enough "sex" since they had "fixed him" to know that this was intended to be one of his assigned punishments--and surely it was. Quickly he became gripped with a terrible need to cum--to burst--and he begged them to stop. The girls used an expensive cream on him between sessions which left his member feeling physically fresh--but made his wish to explode the tension out of it all the worse.

Now he rode with the girl--who was more miserable than he was--to the order's enclave. He was being sent to be milked--drained without orgasm--by the nurses there. The girls assured him they would tend to his anguish as well. They said he would feel much better after the procedure. He didn't believe them.

She slumped against the other side of the carriage. She was fitted with manacles and fetter chains--more for show than any real chance she might escape. The fastest either of them could manage was a waddle.

She had been made to drink lots of water (as had he) and they were both given a tea that had some strong awakening mixture in it--but she still looked worn out from an hour of thrashing and suffering in the high chair--and then hours more of sucking him.

He dearly hoped the order nurses--contrary to their reputations--would go easy on him since he wasn't being sent to them, specifically, for punishment. He wasn't at all certain though--and the harrowing ordeal of having himself brought to the frustrating edge of orgasm over and over had left him sour and sobby feeling.

"Sorry," Maci said. She was having trouble sitting--even on the soft seats of the carriage and kept squirming around. She was wearing the strange pale-pink panties they'd gotten for her and she looked like she hated them. She kept picking her knees up and shifting around.

"Wasn't your fault," He said. He ought to be enjoying the carriage ride--but all he could think of was how sore and tender he was. "If you'd balked they'd have done something terrible to us both."

"They're such bitches," she swore. He nodded unhappily. He knew--KNEW--they felt warmly towards him, and found his punishment deserved. It was an awful combination.

"You were really stealing girl's dirty panties?" She asked. Ugh!

"I was," he admitted. "I've smelled more dirty panties now--tasted them--than I did in all my time of thieving. I've ... coupled--" he didn't dare say 'fucked'--"more here than I ever could have out there free."

"Not that it's a blessing," she said. She had understood, very well over hours of her training that any pleasure he got was also punishment. "I bet you're really good at pleasing girls."

"Oh--I am. Believe me--If I don't, the punishments are awful!"

He said it with such conviction she laughed. He blushed. He shifted and, taking advantage of their being alone, scratched lightly under his aching scrotum.

"Bryce!" she hissed.

"What? No one can see us." he said--surely SHE wasn't going to scold him for that!?

"Karmic debt," she said ... uneasy. "I'm itching like crazy under this thing."I don't dare do anything about it."

It was then that he heard voices outside the carriage and he realized it had passed through the gates of the enclave and come to a stop.

"You'll wish you'd taken advantage of being private, Karmic debt or no," he said as the voices approached the door.

"I know," she answered, swallowing hard and rubbing at her lower stomach--like she felt crampy or bloated.

OCTENS MACI

The bells had tolled OCTENS while they were on the carriage and she had been escorted from it by two stern-faced acolyte women who told her that if they were not instructed to deliver her to the Artisan as she arrived they would spend a good long while stripping and spanking her because she was a dirty girl who had offended the Mother's Council and sworn at an officer of the order.

They told her that whatever else Artisan Tanaris did with her, she could expect her spanking on the way back.

They also berated her for coming far too "over dressed" for what they said was a session that shouldn't allow, much less necessitate, any talking. They asked if she thought the master would go easy on her if she looked like a 'precious little flower' and assured her he would not. They didn't lay a hand on her other than to guide her about--but she was sniffling back tears when they deposited her on a low stool out in a hall and told her not to move or make a sound.

She sat there, feeling awful and weepy.

"Is this where you wanted to go?" she said softly, wondering if Task would hear. She half expected things to go on and to never hear from it again, it fading into a hallucination or something.

'Hardly," the voice said. It sounded like it was speaking inside her head--but NOT in her mind. Like a soft voice spoken inside her skull. It felt closer than it ever had been before. "If I wanted to get into the enclave, I'd just apply for a job."

"They'd burn you," she said. She was in a dark mood and Task's voice, now... above her throat--behind her eyes, worried her. Maybe even scared her--but she couldn't focus on that.

"No," it said. "They certainly employ Unclean--the same way the Matrons have a colony of mucks in their punishment cell. They just go after uncontained ones. If I were... living here... they would make use of me in their work. I would be fulfilling my nature. It'd be boring though."

"I'm sorry if our suffering doesn't amuse you," she groused.

"It's not that it's unamusing, young human--"

"My name is Maci!" she snapped.

"Sorry--young human Maci--and keep your voice down!"

She sniffled and wiped at her eyes.

"Can I just spend him and go?" she asked it. She knew it wouldn't know--but she felt entirely unraveled. She could sleep right now!

"No," it said. "That is almost certainly not going to happen, Maci."

"Why not?" she asked.

"Something else is afoot here," Task said. She felt something shift, unpleasantly, in her stomach. She stifled a belch. She guessed if scratching or farting incurred karmic debt, burping did too.

"Are you in my ... head?" she asked anxiously. "Or my stomach--or what?"

"I am all through you, Maci," the answer came. "It took some time--but I have spread across you. See?"

She jerked a foot off the floor! It felt like a ticking finger had run along the underside of it. She winced--the sensation of a hand patting her on the head!

Her eyes widened. She felt fear.

"Calm down, Maci," Task said in its reasonable voice. "I am not at all adverse to punishing you--but I'm also an unclean of my word. I am going to leave you more or less as I found you and in, I hope--I trust--considerably better position. I am not at all like you--like a person--or an animal. In some ways I am like a machine."