Zoom Punishment Pt. 06

"COME BACK!!" Then in tears: "I KNOW YOU'RE THERE!! PLEASE!! PLEASE COME BACK!"

Mrnnnmmmm---

Miss Corsi popped back into view, smiling. "I asked a girl to go get me a coffee," she said. "How are we doing?"

"UGH! Awful!" Tara pouted--a bad idea in this situation--but in her actual relief at the girl reappearing, she couldn't help herself. The sensations didn't diminish--but the panic at the possibility of being left like that for a long time did.

"Now," Corsi said, choosing something. "These pods have a lot of armatures--attachments. Ever been in one?"

"Ughh, not one of these," Tara grunted. She was trying to shift her body sideways to get out of the center of the bowl--which now seemed less like a toilet bowl and more like the concentrator of a satellite dish! She was straining, but wasn't having any luck.

"Okay," Corsi decided. "Now--normally I wouldn't do this for just a late payment--but you've been a pretty bad little brat, haven't you?"

Silence. Mmmrrrmmmm---

Did the awful itch in her anus increase?? She couldn't see the bitch's fingers well--if she was sliding up a control to increase the power--UGH! IT DID!! FUCK!!

She thrashed in the restraints. Again, it brought her nothing. On the scream, Corsi watched her, placidly. What did she--oh--oh you bitch!

"Yes! Yes, miss--I've been a bad little brat!" Tara barked out, acidly.

"Yes!" Miss Corsi said, pleased with her bright student. "You have--so I'm going to give you a punishment you'll be quite aware of when you see me in my office. That's a good idea, isn't it?"

Again, that placid look. The itch gnawed at her core. Ugh--ugh--Eww--Fuck. "Y-yes, miss--a g-great idea," she gasped.

Click--whrrnn.

From the bowl under her, a panel opened and she saw what looked like a stiff-bristle toilet brush. It was telescoping up--towards her sex. Shit!

She grit her teeth. Oh!! Ah!! Guided by the system and her general inability to move, it pushed against her pudenda--right at her vagina. Ohhhh.

She looked up, pleadingly at the screen.

"Try to relax there, Tara," Miss Corsi cooed.

Uggnh---Nuhh!! "AAhhh!!" she let out a cry as it forced its way in. It filled her vagina pushing the bristles against her channel as it worked its way up. Now her squirms brought lightly prickly discomfort in her channel as well as not accomplishing anything for the rest of her.

She panted and glared at Miss Corsi as it went deeper in. Ohhh. Another cry!

Corsi touched a control. For a moment there was just the hum of the Time-Out field and then the pole connected to the brush inside her... rotated. It spun, the brush bristles whirring in Tara's channel. There was only a burp of power--but her shriek ripped through the pod. She was sure anyone outside--that bitch at the counter--could hear her!

BRNNN! Another pulsing spin.

"AHH!! OHH! PLEASE!!"

BRNNNNNN--NNN--

"AAHH! AHH!! YOU BITCH!!"

Tara was struggling with all her might--but it did not escape her than her channel was fucking thickly lubricated. If she hadn't been, the thing would've been utterly unbearable--but she was--which was its own kind of humiliating and awful--but it just made the periods of spin and the violation of the intruder painful and unpleasant and an affront--and not unbearable.

BRNN!! "AAAHHH!!!"

That didn't stop her from crying out with each spin though--she couldn't take more than a moment of it and Corsi seemed to pulse the thing to push at her limits. She struggled to close her legs--to get the horrible thing out of her sex. She caterwauled as her punishment continued. Panting, finally, it seemed to have stopped.

Her head couldn't dangle due to the neck restraint--but she opened her eyes. She would've been horrified--but not entirely surprised to see blood like from a bad period in the bowl--but there was nothing. On the monitor, her sex was swollen and ruddy. It looked puffed around the tube.

Miss Corsi clucked her tongue, and the thing came out, trailing lubrication. Tara felt a heatwave across her cheeks.

Her vagina started up and down its length inside her. She whimpered hoarsely. The Time Out field was still buzzing and the stupid itch projection was still... broiling right there on her anus. Her breath came in gasps.

"You may have trouble walking and sitting for a few days," chirped Miss Corsi. "The vaginal brush is a rough one--"

Tara whimpered, squirming--her poor vagina burned and prickled!!

"I'm going to set the timer for five minutes," Corsi said. "Then your punishment session is over--but you'll be seeing me bright and early tomorrow--I've cleared my calendar."

Tara moaned. The itch spiked and she fought in exhausted desperation to get her bottom out of the zone. The Time Out field also increased--to three? She gasped. Peeing in a Pull Field was a huge error--but she couldn't help herself and as she released her bladder, a terrible feeling--a kind of suction in her urethra, hit and she moaned.

She was sobbing weakly when the lights cycled and the restraints released.

"Your tele-punishment session is concluded," said the voice. "Hopefully you have learned a valuable lesson!"

"Ohh--Ohhh--ohhh," whimpered Tara staggering achily out of the pod, her hands gripping her sex. She didn't bother retrieving her panties and just pulled on her shorts, gasping as they reached her sex. Holding her jacket and shoes and socks, she hesitated only long enough to retrieve her widget before lurching out into the light warm rain. She knew people were watching her--having struggled, red-faced and wet-eyed from the punishment parlor, clearly speculating on what discipline she had endured.

KASA --THE MANGKUKULAM

Kasa walked carefully down the dirt road. Way out from the starscraper she usually called home--and rarely left (the huge building had its own schools, shops, police forces, and so on). Out here, at the end of the gray-line and into the jungle that had once covered most of Tersnia, it was the exact opposite.

A donkey eyed her accusatory as a man strapped water containers onto a web-work of rope on its back. Rude huts--hovels with sheet metal roofs and mud-brick walls huddled together. Insects buzzed near her, as though finding her tasty--but overly clothed.

She wore a traditional, if clean and brightly colored sarong, an equally colorful bright headscarf, and dark glasses.

A Tersnian observer could tell a lot by looking at her, none of it comforting.

She wore a slim, elegant collar, indicating she was under someone's control. If they looked closely they would see the bracelets she wore were designed for being locked to things (or each other) as a restraint. Her shoes were heels--thick-soled and the back points widened for balance. The ankle wraps had tiny padlocks: her shoes required keys to be removed.

Her hair had a dyed pink strand, indicating she was being dominated by a superior woman in her life--usually a mother-in-law.

Her gait suggested a punishment: an experienced disciplinarian would put it at the night before.

She was nervous--although even out here, she was nominally safe (Tersnian violent crime was near zero), she was an outsider and drew looks. She clutched her bag tightly.

"Dalaga," the youth--a lean teenager with shorts and no shirt, had stepped out into her path. He wore thong shoes--his skin was tanned. She could count his ribs. "You lost?"

She grimaced--hopefully not visibly. "I am looking for--" she pulled out her widget, "the end of Mandai road--past the Jabuticaba tree... in the dark," she added, reading the final line of the instructions.

The boy blinked. "You looking for the mangkukulam?" His voice indicated disbelief.

"I was sent," she said simply.

He frowned. "I'll take you," he said.

She swallowed. She didn't want to follow this boy--there was something predatory about him, to be sure--his leer at the wealthy, timid outsider, his lithe sprinter's frame. Still, she wasn't sure how far it was and the streets weren't named. Her widget didn't show a map here--something that never happened in the city. She wasn't quite "lost"--but she wasn't sure she was in the right place either.

She nodded.

"T-ten wan?" she asked.

He shook his head. She was going to offer a higher price but he interrupted. "No money--no. Just--I'll take you."

She slowly nodded.

He led her down the street.

She saw a mud-splattered platform with low pillories that two naked girls knelt in. They had been splashed with mud as well, and she saw clouds of insects buzzing around their bare rear-ends. The girls twitched and shifted as much as they were able in the restraints.

She glanced at him.

"Firm defiance of the town-mothers," he said, clucking his tongue. "Very bad--you come on a rare day to see this."

She nodded, watching them. Closer she could see they were gagged with muffles--she could hear little gasps and moans. Despite their still, exhausted demeanors, they were moaning and struggling.

"Walang pillories," the boy said. "The insects are... unrelenting."

She stared. He led her by the stocks--closer--behind them--and she could see their pink sexes--open--wet--and the tiny bugs crawling over them--lighting, crawling, taking flight. Both bottoms clenched and shook, trying to dislodge the things and unable to do more than create temporary bursts of motion.

"They... bite?" she looked horrified.

He shook his head, smirking. "Just crawl... irritate. Really unpleasant. Before nightfall they'll have wet and soiled themselves." Closer she could hear the "MMmm--nmmmm!" sounds of protest and the hums of the insects.

"Ohh--" he led her past.

There were a row of pillars about stomach height. From behind she could see holes in them at waist level and, at the top, metal cuffs and dangling leather belts to secure the small of the subject's back tight against the pillar.

"For boys," her guide said. "Look in the holes!" His grin was... unpleasant. Not as unpleasant as what she saw inside the cavities.

There were mud-structures--tubes--and she could see the black and yellow forms of wasps inside. One of the creatures buzzed out, zipping off into the air.

"Wasps," she said, horrified.

He nodded. "Not... aggressive. Potter-wasps. They can sting--but rarely do. They are adapted for this--the boy is massaged inside--" he gestured at his buttocks--"so he is stiff--and buckled in."

"The wasps use the... drippings... as food. They crawl over--sting--mildly--almost no venom. Keep the boy hard for long time. Work much out of him. Uncomfortable."

"Usually get several lashes too--jerk too much, get stung!"

He flashed her the grin again. She shuddered.

"You sure you want to see the mangkukulam?" He asked.

"I was sent to," she answered. He accepted this, and led her onwards.

The jungle had a primordial hunger about it. The path separated into three different directions beyond the much taller grasses and ferns. The trees seemed to curve and bow to make oval-shaped corridors in the denser vegetation.

Moss and vines hung down like cables. She could hear birds and insects sounding either alarmed... or excited, by her approach. Bright colors: flowers, hanging fruits she didn't recognize, the glittering carapaces of large insects, flashed out amid the dark greens of the foliage.

She hugged herself.

"This way," he said. He took her down the right-most path and into the green.

She heard the faint sound of water--and then she saw a gap in the trees. Through it she could see the rock face of the extinct volcano that dominated the far end of the Tersnian island. On one of the large terraces she could see the brutalist concrete shape of the building that was referred to as the "Spanking Factory," a colonial-era prison.

It was a feared sight, and she shuddered.

The boy caught her eye. "The factory," he said, looking up. "Not so far--on some days, you can hear the laments."

She glanced at him. He shrugged. "Or maybe it's just the jungle--hard to say."

They moved around a huge tree with a broad canopy and hanging purple fruits. The Jabuticaba. She saw the hut.

It sat in a clearing with grounds around it looking trim even though she felt certain there was no gardener using a machine to keep the yard.

A garden was marked off with low wooden blocks and she could see huge gourds growing there, in bright oranges and reds.

The hut was well built with a proper steepled roof and small windows that showed both shutters and, where one was open, glass panes and colored curtains inside.

It bore a chimney and she could see a thin, twisting wisp of slightly greenish smoke rising up.

It was entirely what she'd been afraid it would look like.

"That's her," the boy said, his voice low. "I'm not going any closer. We stay well away unless we need something big."

She nodded. Shit.

He gave her a pat on the small of her back. "You were sent--go. She may expect you."

Shit-shit-shit.

She nodded, apprehensively.

"Don't make her wait," he said.

She started forward. "Thanks--are you sure you don't want--"

He shook his head. "Not for taking someone to see her."

Ugh.

She walked up the stone path towards the door. When she looked back, the boy was gone.

When she turned, the door was open. She jumped!

Inside stood a girl--maybe her age--early 20's--pretty. She held a thatched broom and wore what Kasa thought were handmade clothes. She looked slightly smudged and dusty, like she had been cleaning a big mess. She wore an apron that had old stains on it.

"Hello?" the girl said.

"H-hello--K-Kasa Rodriuza," she stammered. "I'm sent to see the mangkukulam," she added.

"Oh really?" the girl feigned surprise. She smiled then. "Come in--come inside."

She stepped back and Kasa followed her in, looking around. The small room was comfortable looking. She could see the fireplace with a metal cauldron in it. A long wooden spoon handle stuck out.

From the ceiling hung skins and rope-bags of herbs and vegetables.

There was a crude but clean table.

A sofa was covered with handmade quilts and adorned with a couple of stuffed pillows. There were chairs and a few stools.

There was a single door that seemed to lead to a room a quarter the size of the house.

"Sit," said the girl. "Call me Uilla," She pointed at a stool.

Kasa sat, quickly--obediently. The girl's smile lit up.

"I will fetch some tea," she said.

Kasa nodded, still hugging herself.

"The mangkukulam will be here soon," the girl said, hanging a metal kettle in the fireplace. "She is out in the dark--" she gestured outside.

"Oh."

"I am her apprentice," Uilla said brightly. "Her slave!" She smiled

"Oh--"

"It's quite an honor if scary at times," the girl said, fetching an antique -ooking infuser ball. "This is your first time out of the city like this?"

"I have been to Europe... and Australia," Kasa said softly. Yes, she thought. This was her first time really being OUT of the city... like this.

Uilla nodded. "Not the same, though. Out here is... old. No?"

Kasa agreed.

"There are only a few reasons anyone visits," Ulila said, stirring the pot. "Questions, requests, or punishment."

She looked over her shoulder. "I would guess the last one?"

Kasa nodded again. She flinched.

Uilla took the kettle and walked back to the table. Steam rose from it. "Who sent you for punishment?"

"My---my husband?"

Uilla grinned. "You sure?"

Kasa blushed. "My harem-master," she corrected herself. It was an old word in Islander. She was one of three wives in the great starscraper tower where she lived.

Multiple wives--or even wives and husbands--were hardly unknown but most of the island, with its 'modernization,' had adopted the international standards of monogamy and, if there were other people in the picture, it was often less formal.

To have a proper owned harem usually required a very high social and social dominance status--wealth--and particular ceremonies that harkened back to the times of actual, literal ownership for the submissives.

Calling Tijo her "Harem Master" was something they usually only did in the bedroom. In private. It was embarrassing to do it here with this girl--admitting to being owned, even if it had been only legally a marriage arrangement.

"What? Did you cum without his permission?" Ulila asked, smirking. She deposited the infusers into two cups and poured the steaming water in.

"Oh! N-no--" Kasa said, flushed with the forwardness of her question. She had, of course, done it--numerous times. Ordering his girls to hold their orgasms and then working to make them cum and punishing them if they did was a common if disliked (if sexy) game they played. That got her well spanked though--not sent out here.

"Then why?" Ulila asked, sweetly. She scrutinized Kasa. "No--let me see--let me see if I can tell."

Kasa swallowed. Ugh. She glanced at the door. She hoped the witch would be here soon. Having to discuss this with anyone else made it that much worse.

Uilia however, didn't wait. She bent forward and gently removed Kasa's glasses, studying her eyes. She'd cried recently. The redness was visible. Ulila nodded. She reached up and undid the headscarf.

Oh! It had taken Kasa some time to get used to wearing it--but now as it came off, she felt self-conscious and naked. They were indoors, so it was acceptable--but being undressed by this girl felt unwelcomely intimate.

Uilia touched the pink swath of her hair, rubbing it in her fingers.

"His mother," she said.

Kasa gave a faint nod.

"Mmm--she has taken an interest in you--in this member of her son's harem," Uillia said.

Ugh. Kasa nodded again.

Uilla's fingers ran down Kasa's neck and over her shoulders. "She likes you!" Uilia said.

UGH! Kasa reluctantly nodded.

"Mmm-hmmm--" Uilia begin to undo the sarong. "Drink your tea," she ordered Kasa.

Kasa did. It was odd and strong--but she liked the taste. She gulped down the drink and the sarong fell over the stool, revealing her naked body beneath it.

"You... do well with girls," Uilia said, examining a breast, lifting it gently. Kasa squirmed in place. As Uillia touched her nipple she felt it erect.

"You are invited into your master's mother's bed," she assessed.

Kasa blushed deeply--nodded. Shit. This girl was guessing well.

Uilia ran her fingers up and into Kasa's now free-falling hair. She felt the girl's strong fingers touch her scalp.

"You don't like it!" She grinned.

Kasa's anger flared. Sleeping with her husband's--her Harem-Master's Mother was, technically speaking, a punishment. Of course she didn't like it!

The woman was older but firm and in good athletic health and extremely rich--even by the standards of which Kasa had grown up. In the older woman's bed she was a servant--a slave, really--satisfying the woman and accepting light teasing discipline and cuddling.

It wasn't that she didn't like it--the problem was she DID. Tears there were a release--being held by the woman--feeling the fine fur around the older woman's sex--hair she was denied--being expected to jump to any--any command---and doing it. Sleeping in her arms... she SHOULDN'T like it--she didn't WANT to like it--but she did. Worse: EVERYONE knew it. Her sisters had seen it despite her desperate attempts to hide it. Tijo had seen it--and instead of being surprised or annoyed by this, he had simply arranged for her to spend even more time with the dominant woman!

As, technically, a slave-girl, owned by her Harem-Master, she could hardly be expected to complain about being sent to a family member of her owner for any reason--but she had grown up a modern, sophisticated girl--and being treated like this felt humiliating. Being seen as a 'favored slave' made her feel warm and wet--but it infuriated her.

She had argued with Tijo--and gotten well spanked for it. She had complained to her sister-wives and gotten condescending comforting. She had tried resisting her mother in law who, instead of being off-put by her defiance, had instead been thrilled by it, and had engaged in lengthy minor and not-so-minor disciplines to steer her gently back to obedience or, if not that, a standing regime of punishment!