Zoom Punishment Pt. 08

She'd been scolded. It turned out that her clandestine trips to the low-quarter masturbation parlor had been clocked by her widget. While the place was ostensibly a disciplinary studio, it had been busted two weeks ago... and her repeated, weekly trips were now on the record as a chain of illicit orgasms.

The girl who'd scolded her had been only barely able to suppress giggles at her wailing distress and pleading not to inform her mother.She knew that if what the Factory had put together came out, she would be due a lengthy period of punishment for repeated misbehavior.

Her social media circles would be informed! Everyone at work would know! Her reputation as a 'good girl' would be ruined!

The scolding girl had summoned several of her friends to watch as she informed Tala that her mother had already been informed! That the worst had happened--and that she should prepare herself for a nice period of well deserved punishment!

The girl's mock-sternness had dissolved into giggles at her wails and the other nurses had gathered around her nude, bawling form to pet and comfort her.

A violating finger in her vagina had found her sopping wet--an utter indignity--and now, the chain of delighted punishment nurses were tasked to deliver the awful set of spankings that were the signature result of a trip to The Factory.

In her deep misery, the horrible truth was that not only did she find the attention comforting--but also horridly arousing--and their condescending sympathy for her resulted in the application of punishments that were embarrassingly light--and which she couldn't take!

The combination of all of this, combined with the dread of what would happen when she got home--got to work--got her widget back--and the humiliation of being found out--had left her feeing limp--wrung out--and barking out cries at every swat.

Her buttocks were going to come out of this pink! Not bright red, not swollen and bruised--nod with thickly bruised lines of welts from a cane--no! Just pink! And she was a sobby mess.

"Come along, nene," coaxed the nurse. "This station is just a slippering--it'll sting--but you know you deserve it, don't you?"

Wail!

"Don't you?" a little more archly.

"Yes!! Oh!! I d-d-deserve it!!" she cried out--more humiliation--more defeat. The nurse shepherded her to the station where a tough looking girl nurse held the rubber slapper.

"What's this?" the nurse asked as Tala bawled into her hands.

"This Little needs her slippering. I assure you the poor thing deserves it." The nurse leading her held her close and Tala's nude body quivered with tears against her.

"Well then," said the station nurse, "let's give her something to actually cry about."

The position for this station involved a pulley system with cuffs for her wrists, ankles, and a harness for her body. She dangled, legs apart, but drawn up so it felt like her knees were in her arm-pits.

The horrid position had her bare sex pushed out, her smarting bottom pulled taut.

"She's very tender," said the nurse who'd been leading Tala around.

"Good. I like them tender," said the station nurse.POW!

"Aiiguh!!" The sun-rise of pain flared in her buttocks where the flogger struck. The report sounded to Tala like a gunshot! She shrieked.

POW! POW! POW! Tala wailed hysterically, struggling ineffectively in the restraints. POW! POW! POW!

The flat of the flogger caught her bulging lower labia and the shock through her drew, horribly, a spurt of pee.

She was gasping in humiliated disbelief and horror at her loss of control--but the spanking stopped for a moment as the station nurse, glared at her, hands on hips.

"Oh-no," she moaned! "I'm sorry, mistress!"

"When I was working the streets," snapped the station nurse, "one of the neighborhood underbosses had me tattooed all over my bottom--complex design--lots of colors--I've still got them--but you know what that did, while it healed? Never mind the process which took forever, hurt awfully--and never mind that I had to take the whole thing stripped naked and restrained to the chair--or that I had to look at pictures of my own backside hung up on the wall for years like a trophy! When I got reprimanded--" POW! POW! POW! "--all it took was a light pat--" POW POW WHAP!! "On my bottom--" POW! POW! SMAK! "And I was done."

The station nurse examined Tala blazing buttocks and gave them a rub.

"This one's not going to have much to show on her frame-set."

"We've also got her cute tears," the other said, cheerfully.

"Oh--good." she patted Tala's bottom.

THE FACTORY -- VICKY

Vicky was in the 'wheelbarrow' position--her newly discovered 'least favorite' position for being spanked. She was inverted, her forearms on the ground, ass up, between the spread legs of Malic whom, Sumi had asked to give her a mild spanking.

He 'held' her in place with his left hand, two fingers penetrating into her vagina--while he dropped his hand so that her buttocks jumped and rippled. The spanks were soft, if a bit loud. She was whimpering into her arms. Her hair pooled on the ground.

It seemed that the spanking was meant to be 'therapeutic' in some way--horribly, the little shocks of pain combined with the utterly humiliating position and the intrusion of Malic's fingers combined to help ease--or even satisfy--in some way her urgent sexual frustration.

She looked up to see Liezel, now wearing a thin white robe, waddling badly, clearly having cried copiously, in the arms of a boy who had to be Talley. She leaned against him blushing and sniffling, taking mincing steps.

When she saw Vicky, her eyes lit up--ohhh! Malic easily righted Vicky, placing her on her feet. Sumi, standing by, helped her into one of the robes.

"How was it?" A sniffly Liezel asked, embracing Vicky.

"Bad," Vicky said. She felt Liezel nod against her.

"Did you get a... second opinion on the boyfriend?" Vicky asked.

"Confirmed it," said Liezel with an edge of sourness in her voice. "Mother is going to be SO smug."

Vicky sniffed. She could smell, under Liezel's tears and arousal, the scent of vanilla cookies from the boy-friend. Huh. He really DID smell good.

"Oh--I'm ACHING," Liezel complained in a soft moan.

Vicky nodded. "Have you seen Tala?"

Liezel gave a soft snort.

"Yes, the girls found her adorable. She was bawling her head off and they were all petting her! It looks like she barely even got it!"

Vicky nodded, thinking that Tala's being the 'adorable' center of attention was probably horrible for the girl--she figured the term 'petting' probably indicated Tala had been given several humiliating, forced, unwanted orgasms.

"Apparently I belong to Sumi now," Vicky groused.

"The punishment officer!?" Liezel looked across the room where they were gathered. "Wow! That's... impressive!"

"Is it?" Vicky asked.

"Well, it's a high social-value match," Liezel said. "There's a lot of girls who'll be jealous of you."

"I think having a disciplinary officer as a... 'big'? That sounds like a recipe for a bad time," Vicky said.

"You'll see," Liezel said. "Yeah, it's not--I mean, parts of that will be awfully hard--but on Tersnia, that's actually good."

Vicky nodded.

CODA

Intelligent officer Charlson stood on the train. He'd been summoned to an off-consulate location and he was required to travel in a civilian capacity. His urethra itched. Inside his penis, unable to be scratched, even if he was allowed, the itch was a constant low-grade assault on his attention.

The itch wasn't from infection or hygiene--it emanated from a disciplinary 'control cuff' around his scrotum. The cuff locked on and created a number of sexual discomforts but it didn't prevent access to his cock. He could still masturbate.

He needed to, badly--and he could feel his resistance ebbing as the train clacked along to his stop.

The woman who had put it on--the American woman, an executive at the Quantix corporation--the technical group that owned the Anomaly Installation--had required that he wear it in order to work with them.

He grimaced as the train came to a stop and he exited, squirming as the cuff seemed to adjust its annoying itch to make him want to grip his cock and find some way to rake the inside of it!

Ugh.

Up the stairs and then down a couple of streets, he forced himself to maintain awareness of anyone following him. It was hard, being distracted by the discomfort that now prickled his perineum and the underside of his scrotum. He was also turgid--his cock starting to become erect as the cuff emitted some kind of 'vibration' around his glans.

He gritted his teeth. The female executives were very quick to visit discomfort on their male counterparts in the Intelligence Community--but until or unless the government could gain control of the Anomaly, they were forced to take their lead from Quantix.

He stood before the door's access console, dirty and scuffed, a combination of security pad, biometrics sensors, and cameras with speakers.

"Charlson!" the womans voice came through. "You look uncomfy." He could hear her smirk.

"Let me in," he said, sourly, and the door panel retracted.

They sat inside--the small apartment, rigged with anti-monitoring systems. Some of them he recognized. Others... he didn't.

One of the women wore some kind of slick plastic looking pant-suit. He doubted she could take it off without permission from the other woman. Both were Qantix officers. An ottoman sat before a TV-like system.

"Have a seat, Carlson," the lead woman said. She pointed for him to sit. Like a dog. He flushed with anger and humiliation--but he did.

He sat before them and felt the cuff pulse a prickling itch on his scrotum until he spread his legs for them--submission.

"How did we do?" the lead woman asked.

Straight to business. Good.

"The package was delivered," he said. "We detect no change in security posture. We don't have a good view of what happened in there--but the data from the package should tell us, right?"

"Maybe," said the woman. "It's an interface system. What we get from it will be effectively random--we can't just data dump everything it received into any systems we have access to."

He nodded. That matched what he'd heard.

"The girl is still well under control?"

"I would say," he told them.

"Good--for an American, she does a good job of matching the Island psycho-cultural profile. She can operate here very well. Keep her on a tight leash."

He... nodded.

"Give us the package when you recover it. We'll provide your chain of command with a full report."

I bet you will, he thought.

"Yes ma'am," he said. The cuff pulsed. He winced and spread his legs more to hopefully satisfy it.

"Liking your cuff?" the woman smirked.

Grrr. "Yes, mistress," he said, in a low voice. "Very appropriate." He'd learned the hard way that when asked about it directly, groveling was called for.

She smiled brightly. "I'd enjoy spanking you, pet," she said lightly.

Oh--grrr--ughhh.

"Yes, mistress," he agreed, his face burning with blush and anger. "Over the--" he looked down--"the ottoman?"

"We'll start there," said the woman. "Position yourself."

Gritting his teeth, fuming, Charlson stood and undid his trousers. He'd had enough experience with the cuff to know that it would be merciless if he was anything but compliant. Boiling in humiliation, he lowered is pants and spread his knees as he lay over the padded surface.

The woman had selected a rounded paddle she was patting against her palm. "I'm going to take a while," she told the junior girl in the plastic pant-suit. "Why don't you go fetch us some dinner."

Ughh. Charlson closed his eyes. This was going to be awful.

THIS PART, CONCLUDED