Tales of Dunnis Urom

And, of course, he witnessed other's punishments--because for him, seeing the female body under discipline made his member stiff and being denied relief was one of the Mother's favorite trails to subject him to.

Now Mother Kane had given him the girl's panties and used him to discipline the girl, knowing it would make him even more uncomfortable.

MACI

Maci was marched out into the courtyard. It was a bright and somewhat chill day outside making being naked in it awful--but she was surprised and more than a little frightened to see a shallow, circular pit filled with burning coals.

"It's for keeping your bottom warm, girl," said the crone. "Not for burning you with!"

Maci was only somewhat relieved at that. Above the coals was a smooth, sturdy wooden platform with a padded bench and a post. She was made to kneel on it, knees spread wide, her wrists pulled forward and affixed to the post with a soft rope.

Then the crone busied herself placing a bar with cuffs on either end between Maci's legs, fixed at each ankle. She couldn't close her legs no matter what.

She looked over her shoulder with fear, as the woman prepared something else that was no doubt horrible. The bells tolled SEPTI and shortly thereafter, other doors opened and Maci was horrified to see the kitchen girls--and others moving through the courtyard, looking at her with differing degrees of glee and interest.

"There we are," croaked the crone. She shuffled around front and bent slightly to look Maci directly in the eye. "We're going to start our punishment now," she said, "and while I want my sparrow to sing, I don't want her to sing too easily."

The crone's smile gave Maci shudders of fear. "Hold your tongue as long as you can, girl. The mark of a mature woman is taking her punishment without sounding like a feline being fucked!" Maci's eyes winded at the unexpected vulgarity.

"We're going to start with a spanking," said the crone, "To warm you up. A big grown up girl like you should be able to find her way through that with some degree of decorum, shouldn't she?"

Maci was already worried but in the gap of silence she gasped out a "Yes, mother!" and the crone beamed at her.

"That's a girl. Now this is just to start, mind." She held a small rubber flogger in her hand. A narrow end served as the handle and the striker looked like a rounded paddle with a faint bulge in the center like it contained some fluid.

Maci had to admit it didn't look overly bad.

The crone stepped back behind her. "Roll your hips, little sparrow. Push them back!"

Maci groaned--audibly but softly, as she did.

POW!

Her eyes flashed wide open in outrage and pain--the bitch had struck upwards between her thighs, landing the rubber striking surface of the thing directly on her vulva! The pain was shocking and she yowled! THAT BITCH!! THAT-OHHH!!

POW! POW!! Maci struggled and tried in vain to close her thighs. POW! POW! POW! The blows sent bolts of pain through her region and she wailed. She took in the amusement of the onlookers--but with tears spilling from her eyes she couldn't concentrate on the humiliation.

POW! POP! SPLAT!! The horrible thing struck in quick succession again. The crone might be old--but she was stronger than she looked and fast! The quick, loud reports of the spanking reverberated off the walls and Maci screamed her lungs out!

POW! POP!! AIEEEEEEE!!

"MOTHER KANE!" she begged, her eyes swimming with tears, "PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE!!" she moaned, bawling--another set was surely coming and she couldn't take it--not there. "Oh please--mercy--mercy--please!!"

She was wailing and pleading--all sense of dignity gone. She took a deep gasp of air and in the ensuing silence, and the lack of immediate spanks to her tenderest spot, she buried her face in her arms and bawled.

The crone stood in front of her, looking both triumphant--but also condemnatory.

"That was fast singing, little sparrow," the old woman said. "A man is going to pump that cunt of yours thusly--do you think you are mature enough to take such??? Are you so easily driven to tears that you need to be treated like a little school girl?" she demanded.

Maci wanted to say NO!! But she was terrified to--and humiliated--and she just sobbed helplessly in front of the crone.

"Let us see," the crone announced. She shuffled back around behind Maci who was now terrified of what might befall her back there. One of the kitchen girls appeared, literally skipping with a tray that had on it, a very thick purple pepper and a small extremely sharp looking knife. The faint smell of the thing watered Maci's eyes and the crone gasped with delight.

"I had thought we'd no more of these!" she commended the girl.

"Miss Stellina had a jar with it set aside!" the girl beamed.

"Well, good then!" the crone announced. "Let's warm that dirty little cunny then!" she announced to Maci who was still sobbing.

Mother Kane took the knife and using a cloth to shield her fingers, she made four slits in the bulging sides of the pepper. Clear fluid seeped out. The kitchen girl regarded the weeping pepper with great respect--even fear--and Mother Kane took a cotton ball and wet it thoroughly in the juice spilling out of it.

Then, with a wicked smirk, she took the thing and applied it directly to Maci's exposed anus.

Her yowls were audible out in the street.

On the platform Maci bucked and thrust and wiggled and fought. The burning in her anus was unendurable and when the awful woman poked it inside, she defecated in front of everyone. The old bitch wasn't done though--she used another cotton ball to swab around her spanked lips and mound. Each touch brought liquid fire to her and she hollered and screamed--and begged--oh, did she beg. She pleaded in abject misery for it to stop.

She moaned and thrust her hips--trying anything to find an elusive shred of relief. She was aware that her exertions were amusing the kitchen girls but it didn't matter. The humiliation was intense but she couldn't be bothered to maintain any control at all.

She cried out her apologies and pitably wailed and wailed.

When finally, at long last, the intolerable burning died down and she lay limply on the punishment bench, one of the girls approached her and cleaned her. She sobbed, tears dribbling down her cheeks and dropping from her nose.

After a time of being restrained there, a girl gave her lunch. A porridge that wasn't at all appealing but at least wasn't horrible. She was given water as well, which she drank. She hated all of them--but the punishment had been so awful that, if it was, hopefully, over, she would do whatever she could not to antagonize them again. In the afternoon, things had started to get colder and the girls came and pushed the platform, which to her surprise rolled, through a double door and into a more nicely appointed sitting room.

She looked about as much as she could, in fear that something dreadful was waiting for her--and sure enough, there were three of the Council Women--one of whom was Mother Kane entering the chamber and stepping around to examine her from different angles.

She blushed horribly and shuddered and whimpered.

One of the girls reached out and gave her breast a squeeze. Considred and gave her buttock a bit of a slap, seeming to observe how it moved. Another pinched at her waist and then studied her calf and feet. The crone looked her over, seemingly the most pleased of the three and lifted her head by her hair and stuck her fingers into Maci's mouth feeling about her teeth and gums.

Maci was far too sore and miserable and helpless to even consider biting her.

She did gasp when she got a finger probing in her vagina--and whimpered when it exited and entered her anus, probing.

The crone looked in her ears and pulled her eyelid back to look at her eye in detail.

"She is suitable for her station," the tall woman declared. The crone snickered and stroked her fingers through Maci's hair. She quivered, biting her lower lip. The other woman untied her wrists and gave her bottom a hard smack.

"Sit there!" she ordered. There was a low stool and Maci sank onto it hugging herself, looking up at them. The three women looked her over, sternly.

"You are going to be married," the tall woman announced. "Until then you are under our care and under punishment."

Maci sniffled and tried to fight tears--and failed, weeping in front of them.

"I think," said the crone, to the others, "That our little sparrow might be suitable for a special case."

"As you will, Mother Kane," said the tall woman. "I will support your arrangement once you make your decision."

"I as well," said the other woman.

The crone stroked Maci's temple.

"She sings prettily, if perhaps too easily," said the crone. "But I have tracked the star signs and queried the bones and I sense an opportunity for us."

The other two women mused on this.

"We must discuss Mother Kane," said the tall woman.

"I say so as well," spoke the other.

"Penitent Byce!" boomed the crone and the boy scurried into the room, head lowered.

"Put our Sparrow in her cage!" cackled the crone.

"Yes, mother Kane," he said.

"And see one of the girls about being disciplined for the leak of your ungoverned cock!" said the crone, sounding amused at his cringing blush.

"Yes, Mother Kane," he said.

They left her there and he got her up.

MACI'S CAGE

The cage was stone wall fitted with locking metal collars on chains moored to the wall. It was down a cold stair and he sat her on the uncomfortable floor and took one of the collars, examining it for sizing.

She looked up at him, utterly miserable, eyes full of tears.

"I'll bring you something when I can," he whispered. "Until then, behave yourself in silence." There was a metal grate in the floor close enough by for her to reach. From the smell, she understood that was to be her toilet.

The collar locked home and he turned the key and removed it. The keys were hung from pegs far too distant for her to reach.

"Behave," he said again, in a whisper and stepped back, replacing the key. He gave her a look as she huddled naked against the stone wall. He made his way up the stairs, listening to her start to sob.

She was cold. The floor was hard and not entirely even. The collar seemed to dig cruelly into her skin. She had enough chain to allow her to lay in a heap on the floor so she did, curled up, moaning softly. The pain of the spanking had dimmed to a soreness. It was hard for her to see if she was bruised but she wouldn't doubt it. The horrible blaze of the pepper juice had subsided as well. but she still fully felt the sensitivity of her skin where the bitch had mopped her with it.

She cried for a time. And, at length, rolled to sit up, hugging herself tightly, looking across the stone floor. There was a low metal grate--a vent? Across the room, some 15 feet away. The stair was twenty feet or more to her left. Otherwise the room was just a rectangle with a door at the top of the stairs, and a couple of oil lamps for light.

She was afraid though: the low level of the room--Bryce had silently led her down three flights of stairs--was low enough that it was among the foundations of DunnisUrom. She--and all careful citizens of the city--were well advised to avoid the lowest places. Deep under the busy streets in basements and cellars and at the bottoms of wells and, well, of course dungeons, the protection of Sattva was weaker. The balance the order brought did not penetrate down through the layers of stone and dirt and deeper down to where human minds were fewer and their attention and imaginations were turned elsewhere.

In these places, even in DunnisUrom, the unclean bred and boiled up. Sometimes some of them made their way up to the daylight world above--those were hunted in various ways and generally dealt with.

Down here, though--she gripped herself. She would have howled for Bryce not to leave her if she'd thought there was a chance of him staying--but there wasn't--and making noise would just get her in more trouble. She whimpered and shivered and waited. If it had been pitch black she would likely have panicked--but the room was fairly well lit so she just huddled there, feeling entirely sorry for herself.

"Hey!" The voice came as a soft rasp from the darkness inside the far vent.

Maci was squatting over the toilet grid and she was so shocked she almost fell over. She looked with rising alarm around the room. The door at the top of the stairs was closed. The vent or drain or whatever it was in the far wall was about 16" high at the highest and shaped like a semicircle with bars every four inches or so. While it was conceivable a person could lay down in the space behind it, it was very dark there and she didn't think any normal person could get in there easily.

"H-hello?" she asked, her voice trembling.

Nothing. The chain to her collar was moored low so she could sit or lay down or squat or kneel--but standing pulled it taut.

"You're dripping," said the voice.

She gave a soft, wavering cry and pushed herself back against the stone wall, the back of her hand against her mouth.

"Shh--don't holler! They can hear that. It's not as bad as them smelling you--but if you're shrieking or crying it'll draw them."

The voice was soft. It was hard to tell if it was male or female. She trembled, staring.

"Who are you?" she asked, her voice a hiss.

"I'm... " the voice seemed to consider things. "An unclean," it admitted. "That's what you'd call me, anyway. Not that you're especially clean yourself, girl!" It added.

She looked wildly at the closed door and pulled fruitlessly on the collar.

"Foo! Foo! Foo! Foo! Shit!" she gasped under her breath.

"Don't!" the voice said.

She froze.

"Don't use swears you're not allowed." It clarified. She narrowed her eyes, looking hard at the darkness through the grate. Was something moving in there? She wasn't at all sure.

"Why not?" she asked softly.

"Karmic debt," it said. "Misbehavior. "They can smell it. If you want to have a really, really bad time down here, rub your sex or scratch your anus."

Her eyes flashed and she blushed hard, snapping her legs together as tight as she could.

"What--what are you--"

She asked, stammering.

"What am I? Or what am I going to do? Or what am I talking about?" The voice asked, calmly.

Maci swallowed.

"A-all three," she said softly.

"Smart girl," commented the voice. "I'll answer them in reverse. I am talking about mucks. There are a number of different varieties and they're all horrible--for you. There is a colony of them you just peed on. They're... sleeping... you could say--but if you misbehave down here--especially if you masturbate--they'll wake up and find you. You don't have to trust me--but you ought to trust me when I say you really don't want that."

Maci nodded, swallowing.

"What am I going to do? Well, you DO have a really large karmic debt and I'll admit I'd LIKE to feed on that--but I'm a fair minded unclean and I have a reason for wanting to... work on an agreement with you. You don't have a lot of great options down here, I'm afraid--but but you have some unusual ones. That's what attracted me to you."

She nodded. Could it see her?

"Yes... sir?" she asked timidly.

"Sir... will work. I'm SORT of more female than male as these things go--but for now, sir will do fine," the voice allowed.

"And--what... are you?" she asked.

"I'm going to come out in a moment--so we can talk face to face--but don't go screaming for help. You won't get any and the mucks will come."

She nodded. She hugged herself as tight as she could. The voice really didn't SOUND awful--but... she had heard stories about the Unclean that were terrifying. Something moved--shifted--in the darkness.

Out came a "cat"--something that looked sort of feline at least. It seemed to be made of smooth, translucent blue skin without hair. It moved like a cat--a sort of fat one with a pig's snout--but it's skin all wobbled and jiggled.

She drew back from it, fighting not to scream.

It sat down, about six feet away from her, on its haunches. It's snout sniffed at her and she flinched.

"You smell of lubrication, girl," it said. "You're lucky I got her before you did something you'd really regret."

"I'm sorry," she murmured. "My name is Maci."

"A pretty name," it commented. "Call me Task."

"It's that--your name?" she asked.

"No. My name is a 74 letter long set of numbers and letters and even a couple of symbols that aren't in your alphabet. If you understood my name you'd know some nifty things about your universe. But I can't say it in a way you could hear it and I'm not going to write it down or anything--so call me Task."

"Yes, Task," she said. She swallowed. "Yes sir."

"Good--respectful," said the cat-thing... Task. "I want to make this very clear: Here, now--you ARE my inferior. I'll brook no human arrogance. And you are under punishment so you should expect to do some groveling."

Maci nodded. The thing was smallish. Could she just kick it across the room?

"Do the matrons know?" she asked, "about the mucks--the other--uhm--unclean?"

Task laughed. "They put you down here to experience them. I'm sure they HOPED you'd get bored and stressed and, erm, well, punishment in general does it for you, doesn't it? And you'd let your fingers into the forbidden playground and you'd wind up wearing one of the worser mucks."

She growled at that--Behave, Bryce had said to her when he put her down here. He knew too.

What do you want from me, she asked.

"Well, I plan ... to have a bit of a snack, myself--but beyond that, I want ... this is hard to explain... you are going to be told to do something somewhere important. I don't know where or what, exactly--I think it'll be some kind of trail or test in... a temple? I'm not sure. I can't see the future--but I can smell it--and I smelled you quite a ways off."

"I smelled the multi-variant potential in you--do you know what a vector-space is, girl?"

She shook her head.

"Never mind. Just know that I smelled you being close to something I want to get close to--so, with a little bit of effort and some agreement, you can help me get there."

"I can't help anyone get anywhere," she said morosely.

"Oh, you can--there are ways. I don't want to scare you so let me... sort of explain."

She stared. It told her what it wanted--and what it would do for her--and she, tremulously, agreed. When she did, it stalked forward and Maci, trembling, opened her legs for it.

BRYCE

Bryce had been put in the muck room once, early on, and chained to the wall, he had sat there, holding himself, trying to comfort himself and rubbing at his cock when the mucks--small slime-things--bubbled up out of the toilet grate and raced across the ground, fast as spilled water--up over his legs and thighs and then snapping around his region like a gelatinous diaper. He'd suffered then, as the muck--or mucks? Had its (they're?) way with him. The slime forced itself into his anus and wrapped his testacles and he pulled at it--but it clung like glue to him and it stung! It tickled--it seemed to soak in and fill his skin with awful pressure, causing his entire area to swell and bulge and ache! The things had a cadence in him--swellings of urgency and skin-crawling itchiness and an awful feeling of having them inside--under his skin--caressing his tenderest bits. His urethra, his prostate--He had lain open-legs spread, drawing its ire if he tried to close them.

It was like being taken, he'd thought, desperately as the thing's slime stimulated his rectum first with terrible fullness and then, if he faltered and tried to expel it, sending sensations like hot wax dribbled on the underside of his cock.