Zoom Punishment Pt. 08

She moved closer, placing her hand on Vicky's inner thigh. She looked at the monitor. "The system thinks you have poor self-control... very sexually submissive--aroused by humiliation--" she rubbed the smooth inner thigh. "I can't read some of that. Ohh--respond nicely to punishment sex!"

Vicky glowered. Then "What do you mean, you can't read it?"

"Some of it," the young woman said, drawing the pad of her index finger across Vicky's anus, "is in something similar to English. Some it is in no language we know--nor have been able to translate."

"You didn't--build it?"

"No, little spy," said the girl. "We did not. It came, interfaced with the volcano, some time in the early 20th century. It appeared interfaced with the prison. A great deal of our advancement is due to reverse engineering of it."

As she talked, and stroked Vicky's thigh, a wheeled cart, moving autonomously, trundled over to her. She glanced at it, and smiled. "The system has come to a conclusion."

Vicky's amazement warred with absolute embarrassment at being nude and spread before this woman. As the woman opened the hatch on the top of the cart, she continued.

"We think that it was due to some deep similarity between my great-great-etcetra-grandmother and their own ideas about domestic discipline. Certainly from what we can tell, they shared ideas and while they were far more technologically advanced--"

What came out looked like a shiny hot-pink diaper. It was absurdly thick, the central bottom padding almost 10 inches. When the woman moved it to Vicky's region, the thing seemed to inflate, swelling even more and locking around her with a suction.

She gasped, feeling the slick material bulge into her intimate crevices. It felt like it sealed against her waist. The restraints unsnapped.

"It's a mild chastity and disciplinary device," the woman said. "No need to be too concerned." Vicky wasn't so sure. Her anus felt slightly opened and she could feel the material in both her front and rear. It wasn't expanding enough to hurt--but it had an invasiveness that was worrying. Also, she couldn't walk in it. The woman helped her down onto the floor. She could crawl.

A tube, like an enema tube connected to the rear of the diaper. On the other end was a hand-hold device. It was a kind of leash. The woman touched one of the controls and a need to poo--combined with a sensation like thousands of ants were swarming over her sex and bottom made her gasp.

"It looks like it wants to show you around," the woman said, gently. "This is quite an honor for an outsider. It must quite like you!"

Vicky whimpered.

"When it appeared," the woman said, walking with her, 'encouraging' her to crawl along, "not only did it merge with the physical structure--altering it substantially--but it also somehow seems to have... altered its history."

"We have uncovered evidence of its influence well before contemporary reports show sock at its appearance. It may have inserted itself not just into our world--but also into our timeline."

They moved through a door--a kind of white plastic-looking bulkhead like Vicky would have expected on a 1970's science fiction program, and into a series of corridors with indirect lighting along the floors that looked like, well, something out of Star Trek. She could see the old-fashioned amber-screened CRTs built into walls and alcove stations flicker with data as she crawled past.

A couple of other girls--younger islanders--in similar, but simpler dress hurried about diligently. In one glass-walled room, an islander boy lay face up on an exam table, his legs around some kind of machine that connected to the ceiling with rubber hoses and wires and the bulk of it shifted and pumped between his spread thighs. He was gasping. The machine was clearly 'riding' him and as he moaned and thrust, it was clear to Vicky that this involved pleasure--although she was pretty sure the desperation and look of mortification on his face meant punishment was intimately involved as well.

Along the partial plastic shell of the machine, lights flickered and one of the nurse-girls, altered things on a control pedestal. Vicky stared.

"It's feminizing him," the woman said. "Hard to explain--but as it takes him, as his response increases, it seems to infuse a kind of domesticity... submissiveness... need for sexual domination--"

Vicky stared. The boy arched his back--gasping--he was fighting it. The nurse gently wiped his forehead as he moaned. Vicky couldn't hear him through the glass walls but she could tell this was a boy on the brink of ejaculation. His legs clenched against the smooth sides of the device. As it shifted and pumped, she caught a glimpse of a thick probe pushing deeply between his buttocks.

"This is a social ordering center," she said. "It was used--by them, we think, to instill the hierarchy of dominance and submission my family envisioned. When it 'collided' with us--pushed at least partially into our world, we think it was damaged."

Vicky could see round screens on mechanical arms moved so the nurses could see them. The image was the boy's erect penis and gaping anus. His cock was thrusting desperately and she could see bulging veins, the shaft covered with glistening leakage. His bare scrotum was thickly, terribly swollen. His anus seemed to quiver and spasm on the monitor.

"For whatever reason," the woman said, "the system has brought you here. It doesn't communicate with us in a clear and direct fashion--not usually. As far as its concerned we are near-alpha--the local leaders--masters and mistresses of the island--but not in charge of it."

Vicky stared. Around an inset door further down the hall, dim amber recessed lights flickered on.

"Ah," she said. "It's ready for you."

"Oh, good," muttered Victoria, and gave a soft yelp as the woman triggered the discomfort sensations around her encased region.

The room was set up as a small college lecture room. Vicky was mortified to see several people in the seats wearing versions of the strange uniform. She was crawling, the huge diaper-thing encasing her region, the tube the woman held looking like a leash. She saw Sumi and Malic sitting next to a fierce, strong looking woman. She saw several other people who looked like they might be related to the girl leading her.

Oh, great, more royalty.

Sumi brightened and waved from one of the seats. Vicky gave her a pleading askance look--and Sumi smiled and gestured with her hands--Easy, nene--you're okay.

Easy for you to say, she thought.

At the front of the room, where a professor would stand, was a shiny red machine with chrome elements in its face.It was the size of a large refrigerator and it was imposing in a way she couldn't quite define.

The woman led her to it and, coming before it, executed a kind of curtsey-squat-twerking motion that Vicky would have been embarrassed to do in front of all those people.

Whuuumm--Vicky startled as a wind came from the box--no--not a wind--it just sort of seemed like one--it was an ephemeral force--a flow--of information projected at her--into her mind's eye. The images were smirking, elegant people in odd clothes, dipping to curtsey before it as the woman had done. Then less elegant boys and girls--all younger looking, kneeling before it, lowering their foreheads to the carpet and, at the same time, reaching back to lower trousers or raise skirts so their bottoms--either bare--or clad in frilly panties--even the boys, she saw--were displayed to anyone watching. Finally, images of wretches--skinny boys or nearly naked girls--all looking miserable and smudged, being led before it on leashes or with escorts and to her shock and horror, squatting before it, legs spread wide, and... peeing--on the floor!

Just a trickle from them. An act of abject submission.

She was reeling from this set of images and information as the woman adjusted the hand unit connected to the tube running to the inflated-looking diaper and Vicky felt like big, puffy, soft hands, their fingers probing between her cheeks and labia, indicated for her to turn and face the audience.

She did, horrified at being the center of attention in this awful state---and the woman, leading her moved to a lectern.

"Greetings," she addressed the room, as Vicky cringed, looking at Sumi through her hair, "Our guest--" she nodded down at Vicky, "has been given a preliminary evaluation by the installation."

"It finds her nicely submissive--but extremely undisciplined and in need of much guidance, care, and correction." This brought murmurs and a brilliant smile from Sumi. The woman announced this like she was very pleased with Vicky's 'score.' "You can find specifics in your folios--"

WURRMMM--

The machine behind her vibrated--and OH! OHH! OH!!

She felt her lower-quarters come alive with the awful Time Out Pull field--stronger than she'd felt it before--she felt like she was holding a bowling-ball in her bottom and bladder. She gasped! Her sex raged with a desperate need for orgasm--a thundering frustration enough to bring tears to her eyes.

She rocked back, her hands flying, humiliatingly, to the huge bulge of the diaper between her thighs. It had to be 10 inches of padding and was utterly impenetrable.

She let out a moan, and a loud blast of mortifying gas. Oh Mercy! She wanted to curl up and die! Her hands gripped the bulge uselessly--everyone could see her moaning.

"Your being taught a lesson about showing proper submission to superiors," the girl standing next to her lectured her. The system is quite strict. Try to take your punishment quietly. I can use a noise canceling gag if necessary."

WHRNNN--OHH!

She couldn't be still--she squirmed! "Please, miss--it's an emergency!" she whispered in a voice cracking with urgency.

"It's going to feel like that," the woman said. "I suggest you hold your potty until it's done with you. It'll be quite bad if don't, and the restriction panty you're wearing will amplify it."

Ohh--oh-no!! More gas--she let out a soft wail.

She couldn't simply take it--she rolled awkwardly onto her back, her bottom facing the machine and in desperation, spread her legs wide--see! Look! Submission--humiliation--please!

To her incredible relief, it backed off to being merely very uncomfortable! She gasped, hearing the wetness of tears in her voice.

WHNNN--a flux in the sensation. She squirmed to adjust--and again it ebbed. It wanted her hips rolled at it---RNNN--Ahh! A wider spread--NNNNNN--an arch of her back!

She lay there, gasping in discomfort as the machine's field worked on her. As the woman addressed the lecture hall, she spread herself wide and lay, exposed, vulnerable, and tightly spread in an attempt to please the machine.

"The intrusion package," said the woman, "has interfaced with our network and penetrated it to an unexpected degree--it appears to have been made with technology similar, if not identical, to that of The Factory."

This brought murmurs through the room.

"The choice of Victoria--" Vicky gave a soft cry of protest as attention fell on her, "seems to have satisfied the requirements of low Cultural Contamination--she was acceptable to the Factory and it allowed her in. The pattern is like that of an invader cell penetrating a body's defenses. The Factory was more than merely willing to accept her. The intrusion package is sophisticated."

The thick, shiny, humiliating diaper-thing around Vicky's region seemed to inflate as the woman spoke, and as it increased in size, she felt the pressure in her bladder and bottom rise as well. She moaned in desperation to maintain control. Under the thick layers of material, she could feel her clitoris and labia aching and stretched--aroused and sensitive past the point of pleasure and on the edge of discomfort approximating pain.

She moaned, tears clouding her eyes. She looked, begging, at the machine. See? She forced her legs wider spread--See? I'm complying--please--ohhh---She pushed her bottom towards it--See? I'm submitting! I'm submitting!!

It seemed her supplication had some success and the discomfort reduced from emergency to merely punishing.

"The Factory has indicated it thinks contact with a sister--or mother--installation is warranted. It recognized itself as damaged and seeks repair. We don't know if this was the expected result or not--but we are going to continue to allow the Americans to operate while we examine their resources."

A question: "What of Victoria?" She heard her name and almost covered her face--but the motion caused a spike in discomfort so she quickly moved her hands to the side, curled into fists, and let the tears shine on her face.

"She will be governed by the preferred party--disciplinary officer Sumi. She has been signed over with a submissive adoption pattern. She will continue the liaison with the American officer. We will observe."

Murmurs. Agreement.

Vicky let out a drawn whine of relief as the punishing waves of the Time Out field subsided. People were rising. She needed to go to the bathroom desperately though. She groaned.

"You must hold it," said the woman squatting by her. "An accident in that garment is awful."

Vicky whimpered. "Your mistress will take you to go as soon as she is able.

It was long, horrible minutes before Sumi and Malic came down from their seated areas to collect her.

She squatted now, the huge, humiliation diaper had been removed and she squatted naked over a toilet, emptying herself in mortification as Malic and Sumi talked nearby. The relief of going was nearly orgasmic--itl left her shuddering and whimpering--feeling a hollow ache and gutted sensation in her region.

Away from the horrible machine, she could cover her face, and she did.

After a lengthy period, she felt Sumi's hand on her shoulder. She looked up. Sumi had a gentle smile on her face. "Long day, nene," said Sumi. She nodded, weakly.

Sumi knelt and started to clean her up. "I'm not sure how much of that you managed to listen to," Sumi said. Vicky huddled against her. She was aware of Malic looking at her naked body as Sumi wiped her.

"They have made a social ordering decision," Sumi said. "I'm your malaki you're my mallit! That means I'm your--" she paused. "Big? Like big sister, sort of--your over-wife? Basically I'm in charge of you--you're my little!" She grinned.

Vicky, exhausted, and aching--her sex feeling swollen and bruised, her anus and bladder feeling a powerful, if dull discomfort, buried her face in Sumi's chest.

"The Factory also gave us a great report on you," Sumi said, having finished cleaning her, and stroked her hair and shoulder. "Punishment Sex is a major fantasy for you!" Her voice was full of mirth--doubly at the cry of horror from Vicky.

THE FACTORY -- LIEZEL

Liezel straddled a low, padded bench. Her bottom rippled with each spank. She was in one of the brightly colored punishment stations and she had been subjected to several light but extremely painful strokes with a cane, a 'hand spanking' in the upturned diaper position from a woman wearing rubbery gloves that seemed to grip her skin, and peel away with each stroke leaving them stinging pink. The spanking had been crafted to land on her buttocks--but also her lower vulva. She'd needed to be tied.

Now, a paddle was being used: smallish, oval, and hard. She could feel the THUMP of each swat--bruising--OW! Pain! She was sure the pictures--taken at each step in the process to be presented to her afterwards (her mother would certainly hand the set in the entry way of their home!) would show quite a progression.

She was sobbing weakly. This had been a disaster. She'd been judged unworthy of Talley--the higher-order boy she'd been arranged to. Instead of having a different option--what she'd wanted--to annoy her mother--she felt certain she'd just been told that the option she'd wanted to avoid was 'too good' for her--above her station.

She yelped at another smack. The woman administering the punishment paused to check her--she seemed to be crying more than the spanking called for. She gripped the bench in misery.

The punishment nurse seemed to conclude she was more or less okay, and with a gentle rub on her blazing buttocks, she administered another swat. WHAP!

Liezel was a puddle of tears when the camera, positioned for maximal humiliation and intimacy took her picture from behind. The woman gave her buttocks a pat.

"Almost done, nene," she said. "Go to your next station."

Liezel pushed up. Owwww. She gingerly reached back, fingers touching her poor bruised buttocks. Tears had flowed, dried, and flowed again on her cheeks. She stood as the nurse made notes on her computer system and her assistant cleaned the padded spanking bench. She would go out into the maze of stations, led by directions on monitors, to the next punishment area.

"Liezel!"

She jumped--shocked--and turned.

Oh-no. She could see Talley standing there, nude, but with a masturbation cage locked over his penis and behind his scrotum, smelling like vanilla cookies. He was clearly at least as shocked to see her as she was to see him.

"What are you--" he started.

"What are you--" she blurted out.

He gave a soft, hoarse laugh. "Mom got me an appointment. They're planning the arrangement ceremony and she wanted--" he made a face--"the picture set, as a gift to your mom."

Liezel felt her face blaze with heat.

"That's--oh!!"

"Looks like your mom had the same idea," he said, dryly.

"Talley," she started. "I don't know if--"

He came forward. This was his next station and the assistant was preparing the paddle with an oil. "I don't know if we're compatible--" she gestured at the Factory around them.

He blinked, taking her elbows in his hands. "What do you mean? My mother and yours went to Central yesterday. It's already on the books--"

Liezel startled at that. She hadn't been told. If their arrangement was already made at Central then it was... official, even without the ceremony.

"I got the impression," she said, swallowing, "that my assessment here was--"

"Wanting?" he asked.

She nodded, and sniffled. Oh, she hurt! Her buttocks--her inner thighs--they smarted and ached!

This close she could smell his adjusted pheromone scent. Fuck, he smelled good--even after the punishment series he'd just been through, he looked... cute. Handsome, even. Fuck.

"Of course it found you wanting," he said. "It wouldn't be The Factory if it was pleased with you!"

She sniffled and he hugged her--careful with her aching bottom. Against his skin, she felt hot and swollen and tender.

"Over here," snapped the nurse--not overly harshly--but he disentangled from her and looked sheepishly at the woman.

Liezel found herself annoyingly relieved. Also, even more annoyingly, infuriated at how bravely he walked to the station. She scowled at his reddened buttocks as he stepped into the station and the assistant punishment nurse fairly lit up with a smile seeing--and smelling--him.

Ugh. Just perfect, she thought, grimacing.

THE FACTORY -- TALA

Tala was sobbing softly. She was 'cuddling' with a large stuffed bear, crying into it. One of the punishment nurses was gently rubbing a cream into her buttocks. Another was stroking her hair. It wasn't fair! It was awful!

They found her utterly 'adorable' and while she was being put through the spanking process, she was furious with herself both for her utter breakdown and what she knew--but couldn't bear--was an extremely light punishment!

Oh--she should be able to bear this! Ohhh!! She couldn't!

Her bottom was pink. Light hand spanks delivered over one of the nurse's knees, the use of a soft-tailed tawse, and another hand spanking in the crouching position with her elbows on her knees, buttocks pressed out, the nurses delighted with her--and calling over their friends to watch! After the abject humiliation of the 'masturbation class' she was a weepy mess and the attention and protectiveness of the punishment nurses was galling.