Zoom Punishment Pt. 05

TALYER DISCIPLINA -- SUMI

Sumi heard her name called and put down the glossy magazine she'd been paging through. She stood, straightening her uniform. She was at the Sumikat Talyer Disciplina--the Pinnacle Disciplina Studio. She'd accrued two "punishment points" (one for an overly aggressive lane-change in front of a higher-order citizen, one for violating her superior-imposed diet by getting a dessert!) and while she could afford a few more without too much difficulty, being a punishment officer meant that you didn't let them pile up.

So she went to her punishment parlor.

There were a variety of possible ones--from the more "classy ones" which she was at, to the low-quarter versions that often were either shakily qualified (meaning your points wouldn't always come off) or illicitly ended with the subject orgasming (which, if they were caught, were shut down with penalties for the owners and maybe the staff).

In her case, as a punishment officer, she had electronic money that would spend at the fully certified parlors which meant the points were guaranteed to come off and the punishments were always appropriate.

The receptionist waved her in, giving her a warm smile that was only about 10% 'wicked.' Nobody wanted to be at one of these--but if the points accumulated, they would accrue interest until the punishment got... really bad.

"Sumi!" the girl said, giving her a quick embrace.

Sumi returned it. She knew better than most that bearing one's punishment with aplomb was expected--the higher echelon you were, the better you were expected to take it.

"Who did I draw?" Sumi asked, releasing the girl.

"Nail--your favorite!"

MMph. Sumi grinned--but a bit weakly. Nail was a trim, submissive, attractive boy who was an unexpectedly skilled disciplinarian. Still, while this wasn't an extremely mild "maintenance" punishment, it was only two points. She stepped onto the scale as the reception girl keyed in her code to attach the measurement to her appointment file.

Next she stripped down her panties and hung them on one of the provided posts. They would be visible--part of the treatment--but they were next to several pairs of similar undergarments, including a thick cloth diaper.

She also removed her shoes and socks and placed them in the assigned cubby hole.

Down the hall, she could see a bit into open doors and hear gasps and whimpers. Most people attending the Talyer Disciplina were here more or less by choice. The punishments would certainly be unpleasant--but they were calibrated to leave the subject remorseful and a bit humiliated--not to apply judicial standards of discomfort.

Still: ugh. She was led into a waiting bay and the receptionist watched, smirking, as she removed her skirt and hung in. Now naked from her waist down, she climbed into the chair--it had freshly replaced pads on it where she sat, and she put her feet through hoops in the stirrups and her hands through hoops on the arm-rests. The restraints sealed with a faint hiss.

The receptionist beamed: very good, Sumi! "Sit tight. Nail will be here soon."

She gave Sumi a pat on the inner thigh--unpleasantly intimate given her state of helplessness and undress but then turned and exited. Sumi lay her head back. There was a monitor overhead, placed so she could see it.

It came to life, flicking for moments with conflicting signals. Then Krystal Clove, a cartoon pegasus appeared. Ugh--better and better... Miss Krystal was her personal AI kaibigan--'friend'--a personal routine the central system assigned to many citizens designed to "look after her."

Miss Krystal folded her hooves, looking piercingly into Sumi's eyes. Sumi felt herself blush and quailed slightly. She forced a smile.

"Mistress Krystal!" she said with inauthentic cheer. In truth, she didn't hate the character--yes, it caused her trouble--but it was in other ways appealing and capable. Plus it provided a direct, if incomprehensible, channel into the Central System that ran Tersnia. If Miss Krystal wanted anything of Sumi, it was, she'd learned, for her own good--however unpleasant it might be.

"You're authorized deserts on Fridays," Miss Krystal scolded. "What were you thinking, Sumi? You know a girl's figure is one of her greatest assets!?"

"Yes, Mistress, Krystal," Sumi said. "I'm sorry. It was a lapse."

The cartoon pegasus ruffled its wings and snorted. "I could fill a pair of rubber pants with with gooey cake and have you wear them for a day!" Miss Krystal considered. "In addition to a good yeast infection, I'm sure you'd find it an educational punishment!"

"Ugh! Mistress!" Sumi's distress was mostly for show. She had to grovel before the thing to mollify it. "Please don't do that!" Her pleading was on point, it seemed and the cartoon relented a little.

"I wanted to talk to you about this American girl you've seen---"

Sumi's surprise wasn't extreme: she was aware that the systems had a good amount of information sharing. It certainly was probably that her AI would weigh in on her activities with possible girlfriends. It was especially unpleasant to do this now--but maybe the AI knew that.

However, she was surprised about what the AI said next.

"There are some data anomalies with that girl," said the pegasus, scowling. "I think you should look into her."

"Data... anomalies?" Sumi was baffled.

"Yes!" the cartoon snapped irritatedly. "I have access to lots of peripheral information and there are elements that don't align properly. In my capacity as an agent of Central, I'm telling you that I approve of you getting to know her and finding out if there's a reason for the misalignment."

"What--what misalignment?" Sumi wasn't sure what that meant. The AIs often couldn't shed much information into why they thought what they thought. Usually, however, they could provide at least cursory information about their directives.

"I believe some information about her has been obscured," said the pegasus. Sumi could see that the image certainly looked pissed. Not a good situation for something that could have her punished badly.

She opened her mouth, but: "I can't explain it better than that," the image said. Miss Krystal sounded more than a bit petulant. "But as a biological servant of Central, you are well positioned to find out if she is aware of any substantial secrets she's keeping. Plus, she's cute--which means I approve of your interest in her."

Ugh.

At that moment, a figure appeared in the doorway. Nail. He was about her height and always looked more than a little "put upon." He wore scrubs with cartoon images of penitent looking cute 'puppies and kitties' on them with reddened more human-looking buttocks--and even low fidelity genitals.

He gave her a slight smile.

"Sumi Dela Cruz!" he walked over to where she was restrained to the chair.

"Hi," she said, feeling a very unwelcome blush cover her. He was looking at her face rather than her naked, spread legs--that was nicer--of course he was going to punish her momentarily so that wasn't going to last.

"Driving and diet," he commented, looking at his tablet. He gave her a glance.

She sheepishly squirmed, and glanced away. "I knew the desert was bad. The driving was a mistake."

He nodded. He patted her inner thigh. "We all make mistakes--and we all get to pay for them." She nodded. As a punishment officer, she was more commonly in the reverse position.

"Your kaibigan wants you given extra attention."

"She said that!?" Sumi was hugely annoyed. Miss Krystal was usually enthusiastic about getting her punished--but she'd felt she'd behaved fairly well just now!

"I got an e-memo," Nail said. He flicked something on the tablet. "Nothing too bad--she didn't assign more points--just wants more ... " he looked at the screen "mild discomfort."

"Oh," she said.

"And 'intimate attention,'" he blushed. She did too. That designation was usually given when the assigner wanted the subject given things like sexual teasing (and sometimes even sexual release!), more involved aftercare, and so on.

"Mmph," Sumi repressed and urge to complain more stringently. She was going to get what was asked for--and complaining would make it worse.

Nail seemed to agree. "Let's take care of those points," he said. She nodded. Here we go.

He started by hanging a rubber enema bag between her spread thighs. He hung it high, so he had to stand on a small step to get it on the arm. The higher it was, the higher the pressure--the more discomfort. Sumi gave a little grunt as he lubricated the hose and spread her buttocks slightly to push it against her anus.

"Relax there," he told her. She did her best and he pushed it in. Ugh.

Inside, she felt a bulb just before the nozzle inflate. Bigger--bigger--oh!! Ohhhhh!! Ugh!

It reached a discomfort level that was moderate. There was nothing she could do about it, though, so when Nail adjusted something on the tube, she lay her head back and felt a thick fluid begin to rush into her. Ohh--ughhh!

"What is it?" she asked.

"It's a punishment oil," he said. "You'll absorb some carrier chemicals and arousal hormonal and peri-hormonal chemicals. It's surprisingly fast acting and uncomfortable since you can't address it."

"Oh," she bit her lower lip.

He glanced at her--the tube running down from the bag was a humiliating image, but she couldn't take her eyes off it. "You'll bear it just fine." He gave her a pat.

She closed her eyes. The sense of pressure from the bulb was hard and full--the feeling of fluid flowing into her was unpleasant to think about--but over all, it wasn't intolerable. This was more about humiliation and embarrassment. She grit her teeth.

Nial took a plastic handled device that looked like one of the pads for a defibrillator. He applied a gel to it.

She glanced at the pair.

"Neuro-spankers," Nial said.

"I've seen," she swallowed. She hadn't used a set yet--but she knew the idea. The plates projected a sensation of the touched nerves that felt like a good hard slap. They used a bit of electrical stimulation that could leave the skin red. She'd heard they were about the strength of a swat with a leather belt. She was going to find out.

"Deep breath," he told her.

He held the paddles to her buttocks. "I like these because you can apply the punishment while getting an enema or having intercourse or whatever."

She nodded.

"I'm going to give you forty-four." Double her age. "They don't leave much of a mark," he explained.

She nodded. Ugh.

KPOW! He triggered the spanker and she felt the swat against--inside--her buttocks! There was no movement--no quivering of the flesh or a jolt against her body--but the crisp, sharp spank was unmistakable.

"Oh!"

He nodded. "Let's see--" POW! CRACK! HSSSNAP! She bucked slightly. Ow! Ow! Oh!! Whatever bitch had flagged her for driving in front of them was certainly getting their satisfaction! PoW Hiss! Crack! Nial adjusted one of the paddles to lay it over her pudenda, along the labia.

Ohhh--SZZZZAP!! She arched her back and cried out. "Tang ina!" she yelped.

Nial paused. "What would you do if one of your subjects swore when being spanked?" He asked pedantically.

Shit. She glowered at him. Her pussy still blazed with projected sensations of the neuro-paddles. Her stomach was swelling and she had the rubber hose humiliatingly rising up between her thighs in front of her.

Meeting his eyes, she sourly opened her mouth.

He nodded, placed the paddle-pads down and stepped over to the supply cabinet.

She watched him. It was hard to see, but she was pretty sure he was wearing a cage under his scrubs. She hoped his cock was bothering him.

He came back with the soap gag. Ughhhh.

She looked reproachfully at him. He unsealed the bag and buckled the soap-gag into her mouth. It came "pre-wet" so she could feel the slick surface and suds--and the taste was... guhh! Nasty.

"We'll let that clean our dirty little mouth a bit, won't we?" he said. His tone was somewhat mocking--but she'd cursed during punishment... and she knew better.

FFSPOW! NNHmm!! She gasped into the gag. The paddle had touched her sensitive clitoris and the neuro-spank made her jolt!

Pow! Pow! Pop! He walked them to her inner thighs. Held one to her perineum, and moved the enema tube slightly to apply the spank to the walls of her anal cleft. Unhhh--

She was whimpering when he carefully unbuttoned her shirt and spread it. Ohh. Pap! Pap! Pap! He applied the spanks judiciously to her breasts--her nipples even.

She let herself cry out as loudly as she could into the gag. The taste was nasty and some of the sudsy soap ran down her throat--but--ohhh! Oww.

His fingers gently rubbed her flesh. "Last few," he told her.

Back on her buttocks, he held them firmly and: WHAP! SNAP!! CRIZZPOP! The sounds, a bit like paddle or belt strikes--a bit like electric pops or snaps. She grunted with each snap. Her eyes sparkled with tears--but then it was over.

The relief of him positioning the basin under her and removing the enema plug was matched only by the humiliation of expelling in front of him, noisily, into the receptacle.

He cleaned her carefully, undoing the restraints and handing her a stuffed animal to hug. Finally, he helped her waddle over to the sink to wash the taste out of her mouth. He rubbed her buttocks as she swished and spat.

'Be careful," he said. "The enema will make you pretty aroused. If you misbehave--"

She nodded, feeling the heat on her face.

'I know," she grumbled.

He gave her a last rub. She struggled back into her skirt, fixed her top--and stepped out to get her panties. She was waddling a bit--her skin felt mildly sunburnt and stretched. Her bottom had a not-entirely unpleasant feeling of "emptiness" in her rear.

She put on her headset, got onto the electro-scooter, and fired up her widget. Her queue had nothing pressing--largely because the scheduling software knew she'd had a disciplinary appointment. However it did have flagged notices from Miss Krystal.

She asked her on-board agent to play them as she drove.

"I got the feedback report, Sumi," said the voice of her Artificial Intelligent 'friend.' "You did very well. Let me know and I'll requisition a neuro-spank pack for your use in the field."

She blushed. Still: she'd put in the request. They were effective! But, no--this wasn't what she was checking for.

"Subject Victoria Truman, Aged 21. American. Since you have shown emotional interest in her, I have performed an examination and analysis of her personnel stack. There are ambiguous irregularities. I have greater information at this time."

"To remediate these, please contact her and ask general questions--background, activities, employment history, etc. Recommend low-intensity interaction. I will attempt to resolve irregularities. You are not required to disclose the purpose of interaction. I recommend you do not."

She wants me to spy on her. Sumi was annoyed. Of course the AI had all kinds of inputs including something like a maternal complex that would push her towards social interactions it found appropriate, or beneficial, or cute.

She blushed as she cruised down the street (careful not to cut off some higher-order driver!). The idea of sending her to talk to the girl was probably only a small part of the intent. It could well be that Miss Krystal thought she'd be good for Sumi. Still, she requested a call through to Massi.

"Massi Corvala, Systems Engineering Expert! Hi, Sum."

"Hi, Massi. I've got a question--"

"Go ahead--you--oh--just got out of a points-appointment!"

Sumi grimaced. Ugh. "Yeah, I'm... a bit sore."

"I know the feeling. Why'd you call? You're on duty?"

"I've got a break--but I have a question. My kaibigan asked me to check out a girl I serviced--American ex-pat."

Massi giggled. "What'd she do to get in trouble!?"

"Mocked a senior executive when she thought the system was muted."

"OH!!"

Sumi laughed.

"She just got a mild ticket. It wasn't too bad. But my kaibigan said that something came up with her stack--some inconsistency--and she didn't say what it was. Asked me to check it out."

"As a formal officer that's within your scope of duties, no?"

"I don't know. I'd thought that'd be immigration. How can the system say there are irregularities but not know what they are?"

"The AIs are really huge vector-space networks--uhm--let me put it this way: they don't always know why they know things. Sometimes we can figure it out--but for the most part, no: their knowledge base is part of Central. It's all in a kind of neural-mess--but think of it as a stack of papers with sticky notes all over them?"

"Okay?"

"So the sticky note says where the paper it's on came from, what reliability score it got, and so on. If a source Central or an audit found shows the person as working in place A and another source shows the person as working at place B for the same period, it could mean one is wrong, the other is wrong, both are wrong, or the place had like two names, right?"

"I guess?"

"Right--so the system assigns lower possibilities to each piece of data and the whole stack gets recalibrated. You get 3000 pieces of data, it becomes almost impossible to reverse engineer why a person's stack could be seen as having incongruities. They all do--it's just that something triggered Central to try to get additional data points."

"So what do I do?" Sumi asked.

"Go and ask the person if there's any reason there'd be something odd. Like, for Central to flag it, it probably means that somewhere in the mess of data something is really weird. Like they have an identical twin that's confusing the system or something. She should know if there's something weird going on."

Sumi frowned. The American's assigned building was coming up. Her on-board agent flashed a message that Vicky was flagged as in-recovery. So she'd gotten some serious punishment. Sumi considered that the girl probably wasn't going to be in any mood to answer questions. Still, she'd gotten the request and her own AI "friend" would be checking back. Sumi would want to have some kind of answer.

She signaled ahead that she was coming.

"What's she gotten herself into!?" The house mother was a large woman in her 30's. She had her hands on her hips and looked like she was ready to become livid.

"Oh! Sumi blushed. "Nothing, ma'am--I'm not here in an official capacity. We had an encounter a while back--pretty routine--and I put a marker on her account if anything got noted. Looks like she got into some trouble at work?"

The woman waved a hand. "She's doing secretarial work for an executive--very temporary, I'm told. Looks like she got a pulsed Time-Out. She's not used to it so she thinks it nearly killed her. I'm letting her rest."

Sumi was grateful the house-mother wasn't furious with Vicky for having taken the punishment badly. She'd done some fairly lengthy Time Outs--in the punishment corps training she'd done a 4-hour stretch on level 3 and had been unable to walk after it! But for an American who'd almost never experienced it, she imagined it'd be terrible.

She found Vicky in a semi-private room, face down on one of the cots. She wore a loose, soft shirt and a bulging skin-adhesive sanitary pad over her sex. She looked up red-eyed and blanched when she saw the uniform. Sumi quickly stepped inside and sat down.

"I'm just here to look in on you," she said. "I can go if you want."

She saw the American struggle with what was probably incredibly acute embarrassment. Then she shook her head. Stay.

She placed a hand on Vicky's bare bottom. "I heard you got pulsed," she said gently.

"The stupid computer called it a Time-Out spanking," Vicky murmured.

"Yeah, or that," Sumi said. She prodded the pad that covered Vicky's sex. The girl on the bed flinched!