Zoom Punishment Pt. 04

Oh! She picked up the headset and pulled it on.

"That's a little better," the unicorn said, sounding slightly mollified.

"I'm sorry," Vicky repeated.

"I know," the unicorn said. "Still--you're a mess, Vicky-kan."

Vicky colored more deeply and sniffled.

The unicorn rolled her eyes dramatically. "Okay--okay--you don't have to cry at your desk, Vicky."

"I just--" she started. She closed her mouth.She'd lied about her widget. She'd refused the orders the stupid receptionist gave her. Her vagina had wet the stupid chair! She was perilously close to crying at her desk--but then she'd disturb Mr. Yeun! She squirmed.

"Vicky!" snapped the unicorn. She looked up, startled. "I'm going to take charge," the icon decided. "You will do as I say, understood?"

Ugh. Was everyone going to order her around--even a... cartoon??

"Who are you?" she asked.

"Midnight Racer," she said. "Miss Midnight to you--and I'm an artificial intelligent agent."

Vicky couldn't hide her surprise. "Really?"

"Yes. Really--and I have a lot of disciplinary data. Mr. Yeun keeps Miss Carmela on a tight leash so I often get to reprimand her."

Vicky felt a flutter of fear in her stomach.

"I could have you sent back to Miss Neomi for another spanking, for example," Miss Midnight, considered.

"Oh please don't do that," Vicky begged.

"I'm not known for my depth of mercy," Miss Midnight warned. "But I don't think I need to send you back to Neomi. Her superior, Miss Yana is worse. So don't upset me or you'll be visiting both of them!"

Vicky blushed. She was desperate NOT to upset this thing--but somehow the idea of cowering before a cute, cartoon unicorn was... cool.

"I'll do whatever you tell me," she said quickly.

The unicorn examined her, its eyes boring into her. She blushed, badly.

"The first smart thing you've done, brat," the unicorn said--but not unkindly. "Okay. First things first. I'm scheduling you to go and apologize to Mr. Yeun."

"For--" she whispered.

"For not carrying out your orders," Miss Midnight said. "I'm recommending some additional punishment. We'll see."

"Ugh! Miss--" Vicky stammered. "I--I--I'll go apologize, ma'am."

The sour look of Miss Midnight softened when she agreed to do it.

"Good girl."

They sat in silence. Miss Midnight reached out with her animated hooves and opened a program that did scheduling. The AI agent--however it worked--tapped in an appointment about an hour and a half hence.

Vicky closed her eyes. She heard more clicks--the computer-generated sound of typing. She opened her eyes. A second meeting for her had been scheduled. "GETTING TO KNOW MISS MIDNIGHT RACER"--it was in a conference room--no, wait--it was in the executive Time Out Arcade.

She gaped.

"You're putting me in Time Out?" She was horrified. She'd experienced the punishment generator that her disciplinary officer had used--that had been short and bad!

"Yes, brat," said Miss Midnight. "But I won't have the field on most of the time. This is going to be a tiny little taste of what I'll do if you aren't my groveling little submissive!"

"I'll grovel! I'll grovel," Vicky promised. "Miss--you don't have to--"

"Hush," snapped Miss Midnight. "You have your meeting with Mr. Yeun and then you're getting worked over by me. If you don't want more added on top of that, I suggest you quite down."

Ughh.

She looked at the cartoon image. She slumped slightly. "Yes, miss," she said quietly.

"Good thinking," said Miss Midnight.

Vicky felt she should be working--answering phones or something--but for the next hour, Miss Midnight showed her a variety of 'educational videos.' In cartoon form, the "young wife" visited her Punishment Provider Salon--where she went for monthly maintenance punishments above and beyond what her husband gave her--to apply a salve to her buttocks from a hard spanking she'd gotten last night before. She had a huge bruise on her buttocks and the girls bent her over, washed and wiped and powdered her entire region before putting an ointment on that had her gasping... with pleasure, Vicky was pretty sure.

Then the young wife encountered a police hygiene check-point on the way to the market. She waited in line until, on her turn, she came forward and a police woman had her bend over a cushion and Vicky watched as the young woman gasped and grunted as the police woman digitally inspected her and used chemical tabs to wipe and then test them for any lapses in cleanliness. Vicky blushed horribly--but in the cartoon, the woman, who had visited her Punishment Provider, came through with flying colors, and was sent on her way.

The voice-over, in Islander, with English subtitles, suggested that at the market she bought items that she would cook to please her husband. This included some fruits that she intensely disliked, but promoted hormonal inclination to a high sexual need for her... and food that made his cum taste worse, for him.

The cartoon girl stuck her tongue out at the thought.

PING. Vicky blinked.

"Go to Mr. Yeun and explain you need to apologize and what for--and ask him to punish you."

Vicky scowled, and, after a moment, got up. She put the headset down, gave Miss Midnight a weak glare, and turned and stalked over to where Mr. Yeun sat, looking calmly at her.

After a momentary pause, he stood and took a chair from the conference table and wheeled it over behind his desk.

"You may sit here," he said. She looked at it. Blushing. She had another pad by her desk. Oh, this was awful.

"I--I can stand, sir," she said softly.

He paused for a moment and nodded. She swallowed and looked at him. Seated, he looked back at her, waiting. She really did need to pee. She squirmed. "Sir?"

He nodded. She sniffed. Inhaled. "I was told to tell you to call me a brat--or whatever the words are in--"

He burst into laughter.

She scowled at him. A wave of fury running through her. Tears stung her eyes and her hands balled into fists.

He got himself under control. "Go--use the toilet--" he indicated his own personal attached bathroom. "Clean up and come back. I'll wait."

She glared at him.

He waited for a bit. She turned and stomped off, knowing he could see her spanked buttocks.

The bathroom had a sit toilet with a monitor on the wall in front. When she sat, it came on and Miss Midnight appeared, her arms... hooves... folded. She looked stern.

Vicky cringed.

"Yes," said the cartoon character. "I could hear all of that."

Ugh.

"We'll discuss it during our meeting. Right now I'm here to watch you so you don't masturbate!"

Vicky gasped in outrage. And, far past her point of endurance glowered at the image.

"I can't go with you staring at me," she snapped.

"You'll manage. If you don't go here, you won't get a chance to before our Time Out session and you'll pee in the executive lounge!"

She wanted to throw something at the bitch.

"Tick Tock, brat," Miss Midnight snapped.

Oh--she was definitely not looking forward to being at this thing's mercy! She squirmed embarrassingly for what felt like a long time before she peed. Miss Midnight's image was turned away while she did it--a small mercy.

She wiped, washed her hands. Looked at herself in the mirror, giving up on any appearance of composure. Looking at the bedraggled girl in the mirror she reflected she'd probably not see Sumi again. She found she felt... a bit of a sense of loss about that--but honestly--the police woman had to have far better prospects than a wrung-out looking American girl.

She desperately wanted to pull up her panties and pull down her dress--but when Miss Midnight raised an eyebrow, she glowered at the AI thing and stomped out.

She made her way back to stand before Mr. Yeung. She lowered her head, scowling down.

"I see you've got an appointment with the agent?" He sounded sympathetic. Grr...

"It's her job to punish your secretaries," she said acidly.

"It--she--does seem to take a lot of pleasure in that--I'll confess I don't mind. It's good for Carmela. Maybe she'll be good for you too."

She wanted to snap at him--but she restrained herself. He considered. It was about three o'clock. He glanced at his monitor.

"Go ahead, Victoria," he said. "Say what you want to say--it's just us. I won't punish you for it."

Oh! Ugh--she opened her mouth, closed it. Opened it. What DID she want to say to him?

"I'm the girl who insulted you." she said.

"I know that."

"Why did you ask for me?" she demanded.

He looked mildly surprised."I didn't. I asked one of my reports to give me a secretary and she submitted you."

Oh. "But you knew it was me when she--when she submitted me!"

He nodded. "There aren't that many Americans working here--and you did make an impression."

"Why didn't you tell her NO!?" Vicky could feel her temper and her voice getting away from her. A little voice said this was a bad, bad idea.

Mr. Yeun reflected on this.

"I could say I wasn't going to interfere with her selection and if she thought it was best, I'd trust her judgment." She felt something deflate in her. Was she just... throwing a tantrum with him? Being a brat.

"But I was curious," he said. He gave a faint smile."I don't know how much Tersnian culture you've absorbed--"

"Lots," she said, a grumble.

"I doubt that," he said good naturedly. "You may think you have--but I promise you that you haven't. A Tersnian girl in your situation would've... behaved quite differently, probably, when chosen for this. But, no--you are very new. When Ms. Taskirs assigned you I knew that I'd be mostly relying on my own software agents for the involved parts of the job and mostly you would be an aliw katulong--a, he paused, 'comfort assistant.'"

She inhaled. She thought she had a pretty good idea of what that meant.

"Well," she demanded. "Am I? A comfort assistant?"

"Between that and a pilyong bata, I would lean towards the latter." he said it like a joke--but it infuriated her and she blushed badly. That was better than bursting into tears--but she didn't feel like she was that far away from that either.

"Should I go then?" she demanded. "You don't need a pil--a brat--in your office!"

"I'm actually refreshed to have a brat!" he said. "Neomi apparently quite enjoyed punishing you--she made it clear if I send you to her again, she'd be very happy. And she told me about her orders, of course."

Shit.

She pressed her lips together. He was so relaxed sitting there. It must be nice.

"I have a suggestion," he said.

She... she... wanted to hear it.

He sat forward.

"You're with me for three days--a temporary job which ought to be assisted replacement. Just filling in for my regular employee. But let's pretend this was a longer term assignment."

She blinked. She had no idea what that meant. Perhaps that he wanted to fuck her now. But he seemed to be going somewhere else.

"In that case, there are some traditions that would be at play. Not bad ones, exactly--although they might seem that way to you--but if we reset our meeting to after your session with Miss Midnight, I won't have to punish you for disobedience with Neomi. Instead we'll do what would normally happen if I were assigned a new assistant. It's a good deal better than being punished--or being a comfort assistant. Yes?"

"I--guess, so," she said. "What traditions?"

"I'll explain as we go," he said. "Now--go fetch one of the fleet enemas--and go see Miss Neomi--take it--use the toilets--and then Miss Neomi will take you to the station for Miss Midnight's session."

Vicky must have looked overwhelmed because after a few moments of looking at her, he got up and got the box himself.

MISS MIDNIGHT'S SESSION

"You should have had him give it to you," Neomi said. They were in the bathroom, and she lay over the receptionist's lap, holding her bowels for all she could. The girl with the clip on ears was rubbing her bottom as she bit her lower lip and concentrated on not having a terrible accident in front of the girl--over her lap--

"I promise you he has given his normal secretary the same," Neomi said. "Your embarrassment would have been very... cute for him!"

"Ughh," moaned Vicky, nearing end of her endurance. Neomi patted her bottom. "Go--you can go!"

Vicky squatted over the squat-toilet and for once didn't care if she was visible. She gasped with relief as Neomi waited around outside. A little while later, she wiped herself and walked out.

"You will learn," Neomi said. "If I needed such, I would ask Yana--my superior. She would--I would find it very hard--I would have to struggle to ask her--but it is that kind of submission that people will appreciate in you!" She smiled at Vicky who was being led down the hall. She was still naked in back--were they ever going to let her put her skirt down!?? But Neomi had taken her panties, examined them, and thrown them out.

The executive Time Out area had a big glass window that looked into what appeared to Vicky to be an airport lounge. Comfortable chairs, a bar--some monitors. Along the wall on her side of the glass were several of the porcelain "urinals." Time Out machines.

"This is your's" Neomi said. Fortunately there were only two men in the lounge and neither of them were paying attention to her. She was covered from the front--but as Neomi helped her straddle the wedge, her bare sex only an inch above the projector bulge, and then clipped her wrists into the cuffs above her head, she realized that once Neomi moved back, she would be a squirming, possibly sobbing curiosity. She wasn't panicking yet. Neomi touched some things on the side panel.

"There," Miss Midnight's voice came from her ear. "Well, Victoria Regina Truman, I think it's time we had our talk."

Neomi smirked at this. The sound came from speakers behind the pole to which Vicky's wrists were cuffed. Her legs spread around the white porcelain 'bowl' and dangled. She felt helpless and vulnerable.

"Hello, Miss Racer," Neomi said.

"Hello Neomi-pusa," said the voice. Neomi grinned and gave a little bow. "I will come back when I am called," she said.

Vicky suddenly wanted to plead with the girl not to leave her--but she stepped back, bowed again, and then stepped away, looking over her shoulder, fondly, at Vicky.

WHNNMMMM!

Oh! OHHH!! Vicky arched her back! She considered simply trying to force her bottom off the urinal like platform--but the field seemed to contain her somewhat--not to mention that with her wrists cuffed above her head, she couldn't go far.

NMMMM!!

OHH!!! She felt intense bathroom needs and the feeling of being near orgasm--and just wanting a LITTLE more--as well as the feeling of being horribly sexually frustrated.

BRNNNMM!

She twisted and cried out! "Miss!!" she gasped.

Nnnnnnmmmm--

The buzzing--the awful 'pull'--subsided. She whimpered. One of the men was looking at her now. Ohh--she felt the heat in her face like the air wash off a blowtorch. She whimpered.

"There we are," said a crisp Miss Midnight. "Now, let's discuss our bratty, little untrained American ways, shall we?"

Ugh. But--"Yes, miss," she whimpered.

"How well do you give a boy oral? Can you take a man without gagging?"

"I--oh--OH! YES! I mean NO! NOT DEEP, MISS!" Vicky squealed as the pull rose precariously. She heard a loud, uncontrolled fart and moaned.

"I thought not," said Miss Midnight, archly. "How about foot massage or analingus?"

"N-no," said Vicky quickly. The low hum of the 'Pull' was uncomfortable but bearable so long as Miss Midnight didn't spike it. "S-sorry."

"Hmm. I suppose you aren't much of a laundress or cook either?"

"I can do--" Vicky started--but then. "No, miss, just basic things--"

The hum gave a quaver or higher intensity and she squirmed mightily. It subsided quickly. It seemed Miss Midnight was disappointed with her--but not furious.

"Very well," said the AI. The Pull field was fluctuating slightly, 'massaging' her region with increasing and falling discomfort. She grit her teeth and struggled on the Time Out device. Both men were watching now. She blushed harder and glared out from her perch.

"You need to train your mouth," said Miss Midnight. "Until then we'll rely on your other two ports."

"Nnnghh!" Vicky groaned. The Pull field increased in intensity and she gasped and tried to pull herself up. Her legs kicked.

"Put on a fetching show for our audience, nene," Miss Midnight said. "Squirm, Victoria."

Oh--Oh!! UGH!! She did--she had no choice--moaning--her bottom moved. If she hadn't had the enema she'd have soiled herself. She dribbled pee, gasping. Her heels kicked hard against the wall.

"Miss!" she whined, sobbing. "Oh, please!!"

The field lowered some. She gasped. "I want you weeping," Miss Midnight said, sternly. "When our punishment here is done, we're going to offer Mr. Yuen our bottom, aren't we? Ask him to fuck us to his pleasure?"

"Yes," panted Vicky. She felt like her region was a bowling-ball trying to work itself out. The bathroom urgency was constant and bad. The need to masturbate was intense. She felt a swollen thickness in her sex and cramps in her stomach. Another fart. She moaned.

Miss Midnight 'spanked.' The sensation was uncomfortable at a low baseline--but it spiked in a cadence, making her kick and moan. She struggled and squirmed. Miss Midnight got her weeping.

INTERLUDE -- AFTER WORK -- LIEZEL (Language translated from Tersnian Tagalog)

Liezel piloted the electric bike through the streets. This was an up-town area, unlike the tangle of buildings and overhead cables she'd grown up in. Her widget provided guidance and she could see the residential pods stacked like giant building blocks on top of each other--but not in simple, boring towers.

They were in pyramids and off-set stacks with gleaming wrap-around windows and individual staircases winding around them. Personal electric vehicles were parked in bays below. Her device pinged. Signaling--and announcing--her arrival.

She climbed the stairs to the door. The door retracted as she arrived. Taraki stood inside. He wore a fancy shirt and the penis cage. She blushed.

"I'm 'airing out,'" he said, blushing somewhat. "I have to wear the diaper out--but I can go bare at the house."

She blushed and nodded, awkwardly. "That--makes sense." she entered.

"He's not here is he?" She asked. Malic, a professional judicial disciplinarian specializing in judicial disciplinary sex was not someone she wanted to see right now.

Taraki grimaced. "He's here--let's go say hi."

He took her hand and led her in. She could see redness on his buttocks. He'd been spanked recently? She thought so.

The house was grand and smelled of freshener scents. She could see sculptures on pedestals and exotic plants. A long framed pictures showed a close shot of a pair of buttocks in stages of spankings with various implements. Starting with hand prints--but then adding slight switch marks, heavier cane marks, bruisings of a paddle, and then hard welts of a whip. By the last one, the buttocks were a swollen bruised mess.

"My trip to the Spanking Factory," Taraki said softly. "I was in bed for a week after that. Malic had to take care of me."

Liezel stared--and nodded. She imagined the bigger man tending his submissive in bed. She could imagine it--but--the sense of helplessness and clear severity of the punishment made her stomach clench.

Malic was in one of the common rooms. He was seated, relaxed, watching football on the video screen. He had a gigantic view-screen that took up a wall. She could see that the coffee table was padded and had restraints if he wanted to fix his submissive to it. Her nether's clenched.

A console device sat under the TV with a complex anal-plug attached by a rubber cable to the device. It could inflict various punishments as the AI associated with it wished. She was sure that Taraki used the device.