THE FACTORY -- LIEZEL
In truth, she wasn't entirely shocked when the evaluation sent her to the mountain. She'd been pessimistically expecting the worst case scenario and she was sullenly gratified when she got it. She felt a bit bad for Vicky--the American was basically just sight-seeing here--but she felt viciously certain Tala would 'benefit' from the trip!
Now, though, she was in trouble. She'd expected the assessment to be one of the Verification Machines that was supposed to be nearly flawless at detecting lies--and a bunch of questions about her 'arrangement.' That would've been pretty bad--if they wrung out of her that she didn't have problems with the boy--it was with her own mother--there would be plenty of fuel for her next round of struggling and losing.
What she got instead, though, were a series of chambers--concrete, exposed pipes, and lit directional signs taking her into a maze. At the first two stations, she sat before a girl at a terminal and had to answer questions about how pleasing she could be if she really tried.
The questioning was fairly blunt--even rude--and pointed. Did she grovel well? Was she patient? Did she consider herself skilled at anticipating needs? Putting herself second? Cooking and cleaning? Being submissive around her partner's friends? The girls in the first and second stage were making something clear: she might not be good enough for Talley.
It wasn't like they knew about her arrangement even--they just had a ticket for her and her path through this ordeal seemed to be about questioning if she was badly overconfident or over-inflated! She was outraged--but worse, she was scared. Her arrangement to a higher status family had been seen as a great coup by her mother--but now it was looking like her "processing" and "evaluation" were headed towards a report that she was better suited for a far lower-status partner.
The next two stations had gotten worse. She'd joined up with another girl who was on the same 'journey' and the two of them had to both work together and compete against each other in the pleasuring of boys. The boys in question were restrained--they had a smell about them--a stink--that Liezel was pretty certain was fully intentional: making it unpleasant for the girls to get their mouths and noses into the proper places.
They were bound, one on his back, legs spread wide, one standing, his arms wrapped in a straight-jacket like restraint and held in place with a device that came down from the ceiling.
The two of them had to make the boys cum. They had to do it to a certain rhythm and when the instruction lights told them they could. There were lit panels showing where to use mouths. Hands, and vaginas.
A score board ticked down the girl's scores for awkward movements, resistance to licking the boy's anuses and cocks, and everything else. The boys, for their part, seemed to be struggling to either orgasm before they were allowed or to resist the pleasuring at all.
It was wretchedly unpleasant. She'd had to climb on top and fuck the boy on his back while the other girl worked between his cheeks. The yellow warning light--that he was close to unauthorized orgasm had flashed constantly.
Then came the evaluations. Apparently neither of them were especially good at sex. They were poor at obedience. They were both overly proud and, in a horrible revelation, not modest enough!
Shockingly, they had been directed to slick plastic slides in bright colors that dropped them down to an underground chamber where they were sent from one station done in brilliant primary colors to another to receive whatever implement, position, and location the station was chastising. The sexual/submissive evaluation rooms had been empty of people save for the bound male subjects. Orders had come over consoles.
Here, there were "nurses" (female) and "officers" (male) in intimidated outfits attending their bright colored stations. Ahead of her, a girl lay flopped over shiny plastic bean-bags, her ankles shackled so as to be spread. The 'duty nurse' loomed over her, using a smooth plastic cane to lay stripes on the backs of her thighs and a few on her buttocks.
Liezel saw her hands grip the bags tightly as she gasped into it. Overhead monitors showed close-ups of her bottom and thighs as the stripes appeared. Liezel knew at the end of this ordeal she'd get a picture set that showed the progression of her buttock's punishment. She dismally suspected her mother would no doubt prize it.
Waiting her turn, standing in a circle printed on the vividly patterned carpet, she watched the nurse and her partner inspect their subject's welts, spreading her cheeks slightly as she whimpered. The idea--which she had strongly gotten from the upstairs process, that she was going to come out of this not being good enough for Talley was mortifying and upset her far more than she would have expected.
Would her mother actually call the thing off? Would Talley's? The thought of being arranged to a lower-status boy was a horrible outcome of this. Of her mother deciding her daughter wasn't as good as she'd thought. She sniffled, watching the nurses decide the girl they were tending needed a little more.
The girl herself moaned in outrage and fury as the duty nurse stepped back, laying her cane on the girl's lower bottom.
Shick! "Ah!!"
Swick! "Oh!! BITCH!"
THWAK! "Ahh!! SORRY!!!"
The nurse's giggled--but put a fizzy 'punishment' tablet into the girl's mouth and Liezel watched her face color and tears leak as it did its work creating a terrible taste and smell sensation to punish her for swearing.
The buzzer sounded. It was her turn.
THE SPANKING FACTORY -- TALA
Tala had positively panicked when they were split up. To be honest, she was horrified that she was split from Liezel who was, she assessed the most dominant of the three and the person she wanted to stay with. Vicky looked nervous and uncomfortable--but she clearly didn't understand what being sent here meant.
It meant that her entire 'station' could be changed--and probably not for the better.
When they had exited the train that led up to the Factory, there had been a large almost empty entry-way of winding cordons and a few "stations" at the walls. The walls were bare concrete showing signs of age and the lights were harsh and bright. At various junctions in the maze of cordons poles with lit arrows sticking out flashed for the route the next person was to take. Liezel had been sent ahead. Tala and Vicky had been sent off to the side.
She'd wanted to call out to the women at the various counters around the perimeter of the large room but signs clearly ordered against any loud speech (with images of a stick person being spanked). She'd had no real choice but to follow Vicky down their assigned passage.
Ahead of them had been a disheveled looking boy who wore a jacket and then a thick "panty" that was padded like a cloth diaper and was, humiliatingly bright pink with butterfly icons on it. She'd blushed at his miserable mortification and she'd watched him squirm. He was suffering serious discomfort down there--and things weren't going to get better.
"How do they know where to send us?" Vicky had whispered as they approached one of the counters with a stern looking woman in a white uniform standing behind it.
"I don't know. Maybe it's random? Probably keyed to our widgets?"
Vicky grimaced at that for some reason, but nodded.
The woman was speaking to the boy who looked like whatever she was saying was horribly unpleasant. She snapped at him and directed him to a metal platform scale which he stepped onto. Then she motioned him past her to where a conveyor bet ran. He sat gingerly on the moving belt and was drawn along around a corner.
"It's like luggage at the airport," Vicky said, eyes wide.
"We're the baggage," Tala grimaced.
"Come!" snapped the woman pointing archly in front of her.
Both of them had stepped forward.
"Let's see your tickets," the woman snapped.
Both of them silently produced their small printed papers from the shrine.
She took them and ran them under some kind of sensor. She looked at the stream.
"I'm going to do this in English since you--" she pointed with her chin at Vicky, "are an American who only understands one language."
Vicky blushed but said nothing.
"Both of you are low-grade little brats who pet your twats every chance you can get. Answer me truthfully, each of you, have you stroked your wet little clits to finish in the past week?"
She looked at them--Vicky looked flushed and horrified but she shook her head. "N-no, ma'am?" she squeaked.
"Because of your chastity belt," the woman said.
"And you?" She looked pointedly at Tala.
Tala was shaking her head when she realized that for a question like that, the woman probably had a Verifier Machine. She didn't see one of them--they looked like big metallic boxes with chrome sensors on the front--but could one be hidden. She thought she'd better be truthful.
