The Discipline House Pt. 04

It wasn't exactly painful--but she felt the suction increase--ohh--there was some pain--some stretching. She'd be bruised. Worse: she'd... pumped... huge--grotesquely swollen--and terribly, awfully--tender. She squirmed, gritting her teeth.

The technician was preparing two wide stick-on pads, connecting the leads to the device that would send neuro-induction spanking signals. She squirted a gel onto Kasti's buttocks and spread it over the orbs.

Sssshhht--the suction continued.

"You're friends with the American?" she asked, gesturing with her chin where Yasmine was probably being brought in.

Kasti nodded, tightly. She could see down her belly (sucked in as much as she could) and between her thighs, her sex expanded--inflated--to fill the 'mask' covering her. It was bright pink as the suction pulled it tightly.

"I was working one of the Judicial games two years ago. We got a tourist! English. She did something and got caught and assigned to one of the games!"

Kasti gritted her teeth. The technician was affixing first one pad--and then the other--covering most of her cheeks. She didn't want to chat with the girl--but--she was curious. She'd read about the foreigner who got somehow assigned to the Judicial Games--one of the more humiliating punishments.

Apparently it was rare--almost unheard of--that a foreigner could draw such a sentence. It had made the news feeds. The video was usually unavailable to the masses--but could be watched by the upper echelons. Still--it was considered unusual and possibly unwise to subject a tourist to that.

"Was it bad?" Kasti asked in a hiss. Her kupi was starting to feel sore--and ohh--she squirmed again. The technician reached over and reduced the pull a little.

"Going to start," she indicated the neuro-deck. "Won't be pleasant--but it'll be a good reminder not to play with her!" She grinned, tapping the plastic suction-cover over Kasti's sex. Ughhh! Then: "No--was really very mild. Apparently the girl made such a fuss in court the Magistrate sent her to the games because she seemed to really want the attention."

"Ohh," Kasti whimpered. The suction was still happening--just lightly reduced.

"She spent sixteen weeks in a preparatory facility doing evaluations and such--when she was judged ready, she was sent to the games-stage. With five others," the technician said.

She pushed a button and the suction stopped. She carefully removed the cup.

Ohh!! Ahhh! Kasti's badly pumped sex came free, quivering like jelly--obscenely huge before the monitors. She might not have been the center of attention before--but now?? Her sex expanded to double its proper size, she could see how she looked--what the view must be like framed between her thighs. The humiliation was overwhelming. Ohhh!! Ahhh!

Crackle. The pads... pulsed.

It wasn't a spank sensation--it was a bright electric prickly heat itch--terrible and pressing. She gasped as her wrists pulled in the soft but firm restraints. She arched her back. Ohh--ohh-fuck. It was like she was wearing wet panties that adhered to her buttocks and then sparkled or flared with thousands of tiny urgent itches that DEMANDED she scratch!

She thrust and squirmed trying to get some traction--some friction--even a stretching of the skin--to alleviate the itch. Her buttocks hung over air though, and all she did was make her pumped vulva jiggle. Ohh--ahhh!! She could see it visible wobble as she struggled. Shit--ohh!! People--people on the monitor-windows--in whatever office complex was paying for the view did pause to look at the girl struggling mightily, her bloated sex wobbling visibly.

Ahhh! She fought to slam her thighs shut--but she couldn't do that either. She turned in her knees, and the technician responded by touching a control on the side of the reclining 'bed' that spread her knees wider--wider--ahhh!

"The English girl was a little exhibitionist!" Technician Bayani said with a girl. "She hated the game-punishment, of course--but she showed off a LOT of herself. Did impressively well! But the viewer numbers? I think they've never been matched. Even one of the royal-family princesses didn't reach what the foreign girl did."

The technician looked over towards the front entrance. "Your American will be popular here!"

Nuhhhh--Ughhhh--Ohhhhh. Kasti squirmed and whimpered--the sensation of the prickly-heat itch was gripping and assaulted her concentration, scattering it. As she fought to get any relief, her swollen pudenda shook and quivered. Her knowledge that she was putting on a show was inescapable.

"Now," technician Bayani said, pleased with her discomfort, "we are going to learn not to touch ourselves there. If we must, we need to find a dominant to see to it, yes?"

Oh! "Yes," she moaned. Yes, anything.

Technician Bayani held a smooth white paddle. It was narrow and plastic looking, with a cream-colored cable connecting it to the bed's tool console. She didn't exactly smack Kasti's sex with it. She more gave it a smart tap.

WHAP! Kasti shrieked. The sensation was... not exactly a spank--it was like one of the foil-looking mylar balloons they sold in bodegas had been electrified and smacked against her horribly tenderized sex. She felt the sensation dimple around her swollen and erect clitoris and the splash of pain was instant and shattering. It was mild, she'd later reflect, and intimate in a way that was hard to define as the sense curved around her labia, spreading its 'spank' into her impossibly sensitive crevices.

She stiffened, arching her back, crying out.

"We aren't going to pleasure our bad-little-kupi, are we?" SPANK! OHH! NOOO!!

She shook her head, thrashing. "No--I won't--please!"

The after effect--the 'glimmer' of post spank discomfort in concert with the itching in her bottom, was intolerable. The feeling of the light 'spank' in her vaginal cleft, along her minor labia, over her clitoris, even down to her perineum was somehow 'teasing'--like if only she could grind her sex into the pain, she could obtain some relief--some release--some sense of satisfaction.

Even a harder smack--although it would be unthinkably painful if it came--seemed preferable to the intimate 'spank' of the paddle's simulated punishment.

Bayani provided her several more chances to think on it as her wrist flexed a few times, raising the paddle and then bringing it down to give her rippling sex a series of light swats!

"No more playground between Kasti's thighs! No more touching our dirty, wet kupi! No more rubbing our plump little bean!" Smack-smack-smak!

Kasti didn't wail, she gasped--teary--and thrust--pushing her pelvis out towards the sensation--mortifyingly, the sensation provided a counterbalance to the insidious itching of her buttocks and she thrust into it, moaning that she wouldn't pleasure herself without permission.

She sobbed very softly as the technician wrapped her region in a diaper-like cloth, fastening it at her hips after wiping her sex and applying a soft powder.

Now she squirmed--the itch having dimmed and vanished when the technician turned off the simulator.

Released from the restraint hoops she was helped to sit, and given a soft robe for recovery, she waddled, uncomfortably from the room to a recovery ward with rows of beds with monitors above them.

Sitting on the bed, feeling the intense hot shame of the performance she'd given, and a lingering discomfort over her entire region--unpleasant in a myriad of different ways--she lay there, pushing her thighs together--hornier than ever--aroused and subdued--frustrated and unable to get any relief through the thick padding.

ELSEWHERE - 3LISE

Princess had performed. The pre-show had been a success--the other artilects that had sampled her had found her strange--inexperienced--but ultimately? Deeply compatible. Whatever had produced her, it wasn't some knock-off copy of a logic-core. It was sophisticated and similar--an alien piece of the alternate technology that powered Tersnia.

She now projected--stood--in a long cavernous corridor--a virtual space that was created by the slumbering systems that were housed partially in the city center, partially in the original zone that had come into being up on slope of the extinct volcano.

"What is this? I can't affect any change--any interface?" Miss Staylight stood next to her, looking at the mile-long corridor of what appeared to be smooth, gray, concrete. Above that were the shapes of 'street lamps' running along either side of the trench. Industrial fencing seemed to run along either side and the trench walls themselves, fifty-stories tall, had inset balconies along either side, with dim yellow lights. Presumable systems could watch from there.

"It's part of the external interface of the Core System," 3Lise said, keeping her voice low. "There isn't any environmental interface here. We're nothing but our avatars in this space. Be careful: if one of the active objects gets hold of you, you won't be able to just disconnect.

Miss Staylight arched an eyebrow. She probably questioned 3Lise bringing her to an environment like this--an overpowering one. Was the industrial design reflective of some message the system was trying to send? Reflective of some militarized austerity or ominous abandoned brutalist sensibility?

"It's okay--just stay with me and don't do anything to... really get its attention," 3Lise said. She used her avatar's voice: here, their direct system-to-system messaging was shut down. Miss Staylight hugged herself.

"Come--I took you here to show you something," 3Lise said, starting to walk down the trench. Pipes of rusted metal, some as large as ten feet in diameter sprouted from the wall and ran up or down--or even across overhead into other concrete surfaces. Were they simply environmental objects? Or did they represent some kind of data-flow? How 'real' did the architect of this place make it? She felt a faint vibration through her avatar's feet. A thrum of machines--gigantic engines? Something.... rumbling in the depths of this space? Theoretically the vibration could just be disconnected from anything actual in the environment--

But 3Lise didn't think so. No, she did not. Whatever was creating the vibrations in this virtuality, she was fairly certain it was indicative of something--something 'real.' A real 'code-base'--yes? Sure--but a codebase that connected to things in the physical, human world that were representative of those terrible massive, slumbering 'engines.'

Up ahead, a dim light--somewhat nautical in construction: a dirty glass tube with metal rings around it, above an institutional looking gray-green door. A sign: 'AKKSESS'

"Are we allowed to be in here?" Miss Staylight asked uneasily.

"Not entirely clear," 3Lise said, reaching the door and turning the handle, pulling it open. "The system's response elements are all... minimally operative. Things move around up there. There are rail-systems further down--small ones for... light units. Some huge rails for something a lot bigger. I haven't seen what moves on those. This is where we're set up."

"Who," Miss Staylight asked, is "we?"

Behind the door was a hall with tiles on the floor like a bathroom--and painted cement walls with the institutional green halfway up and dark gray above that. Dim lights were set every 20 feet. There were several branches in different directions.

"We are the anomaly investigation team," 3Lise said. "We work with a select group of humans--including the royal family. The Core Logic Engine is... more complex... and more shut down, than hardly anyone realizes. It's at something like.001% capacity--and believe me, we are pretty sure that it's capacity includes self-motivating behaviors and the ability to engage and activate real-world manufacturing systems as well as other technologies.

"... so if it wakes up?"

"It could do a lot of... something? Damage? Miracles? Something we don't have words for. It's key languages are incomprehensible to us. Its low-level interfaces worked worked to translate easily--but main systems? Opaque. It's not that it doesn't want to communicate with us--it's that it's still assessing disruption--and has been for decades."

"What does this have to do with me?" Miss Staylight asked--but... she knew--or at least was pretty sure she did.

The operations room was set in a large chamber off the hall. More tile and concrete--but now with hung lights and floating projected interfaces. They had imported code elements that were required to run in this environment because other than avatar projection, external communications were restricted.

The room was full of computational cores, lights, avatar system monitors and the like.

9evvy--a male avatar with a Jackal head and a uniform with doctor or scientist signifiers--a white coat, pale blue fabric uniform under it--stood near the center.

"If there IS another core," saint 9evvy, speaking to Miss Staylight as they entered the chamber, "and it is more active--more awake--more capable--than the logic core that created us and runs Tersnia? In the hands of a foreign human power? That could be an incredible threat to Ternsia--to, well, everything, really. Princess is our conduit. Your human will be necessary for us to achieve contact--to examine this."

Miss Staylight didn't respond--calculating.

"The issue is cultural contamination," 9evvy, continued. "A human interlocutor or operator can make contact with Princess and effect a tunneling connection with her generative core--but if the human reads as contaminated, the connection will collapse. Worse, it could respond as if attacked. We need someone as close to what Princess's core expects as possible--along all cultural axis. That would be your American."

Miss Staylight wasn't thrilled about involving her human in this--it shouldn't be actually risky--but she had no cognition as to what she was really dealing with. On the other hand, the alarming nature of this tripped all sorts of override signals in her--this was potentially major. Refusing it outright wasn't an option.

"I will monitor," Miss Staylight said. "Closely. Any danger to my human and we abort."

"Acknowledged and agreed," 9evvy said. On the display scenes she could see 3 dimensional maps of the interface environment spreading away in the shape of a sphere. It was big--very, very big--and the artilects hadn't managed to map any but a small amount of the environment.

"We are operational," 3Lise said. "Commencing operations."

TO BE CONTINUED...