The Alchemists Apprentice Pt 02

Dr. EMMAS WORKSHOP - TWO DAYS LATER -- EVA

In the intervening two days since Eva had inquired about being punished in a similar manner to the young attorney--due to having been very clearly shown that she'd behaved in much the same way, Eva had gotten cold feet.

Seeing it done to someone else was one thing--and Eva, an apprentice disciplinarian, was quite appreciative of how thoroughly effective the punishment had been. Having it done to her was something else entirely.

However, she'd set things in motion and a letter had arrived at the splinter enclave where she was staying with Jathan to undergo her five-day punishment. The letter had been delivered to a confused--and then bemused Jathan from the Alpothecary they'd encountered in the Dathmore Prison.

Now, he'd taken her out of the splinter enclave to the high quarter and its uptown shops. She was in the office of the Alpothecary, and they were prepared to enact a disciplinary modification that Dr. Emmas and Journeyman Jathan had decided on.

Eva was sobbing on Dr. Emma's work pallet. The Doctor's assistant, Nami stood next to her naked body, stroking her.

"I shouldn't have asked for this!" Eva moaned.

"You were in a really submissive place," Nami soothed. "Think of how pleased Master Jathan is going to be with you! Or your regular mistress?"

"I can't take being punished by them normally," she wailed softly. "This will be so much worse!"

Nami quietly agreed. While she understood the fascination that the modificaitons could hold, she'd seen them delivered several times over the past week and they weren't for the timid!

Jathan had finished his discussion with the Alpothecary. He walked over and pulled a tall stool over by the pallet on which Eva lay.

"She has a lot of very good options," he said. "We talked. I thought something similar to what was done to our lawyer girl would be appropriate--but I feel you're more of a kitty-cat than a horse." His voice carried mirth.

"I wanna talk to Mistress Kalva," she wailed, turning and facing away from him.

"I've spent the past two days corresponding with her," he said. He placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Don't Touch MEEEE!!"

He rubbed her shoulder. He could touch her wherever and however he wanted. "Mistress Kava was extremely impressed her apprentice thought to ask about such a punishment," he said.

"I DON'T CARE! I HATE HER!"

"Good," he said. "You aren't required to like your Mistress."

"I HATE YOU TOO!" she sniffled and broke into sobs.

"Do you want me to fix her attitude?" Dr. Emmas said, bustling over.

"No," he said. "Being punished with an Alchemical Art is bad enough. I can stand some attitude from her." He rubbed her, despite her objections. "She's barely out of her teenage years--I'll allow her acting like a furious girl."

"Such a good master," observed Dr. Emmas. She reached out and rolled Eva over on her back. She didn't dare disobey the Alpothecary, but the woman's touch was gentle. Nami had already brought the enema bag of "base matter" over and hung it from a pole. She patted Eva's legs apart.

Eva spread her feet, and seeing Nami starting to lubricate the nozzel as Dr. Emmas prepared other things, made to roll over.

"Eva--" Jathan gave her a warning look. Eva gave him a death-glare but lay back and spread her legs, pulling her knees back into the hated 'diaper position.' Jathan nodded. He took Eva's hand and she clutched his tightly.

Nami rubbed some lubrication into Eva's anus and then pushed in the nozzle.

"Mistress? Should I start the flow?"

"Yes, hon," Dr. Emmas said, walking over.

"I need to pee," Eva said, sulkily. Dr. Emmas snorted with laughter.

Eva glared up at Jathan. Her eyes blazed. "Aren't you going to lecture me??"

Eva knew full way a girl acting like this under her watch would be earning new miseries at every turn--and as an apprentice disciplinarian, she certainly knew better than to act that way herself. He held her hand firmly.

"I'm very pleased with charge's initiative in getting punished. I find her brattiness charming right now--if she persists, though..."

Eva felt like she was being filled with a thick oil. She moaned as Nami worked a rubber hand pump to better irrigate her with the fluid.

"Give her a short break," said Dr, Emmas, after a period. "And put a pad under her for when she pees herself."

Jathan massaged her stomach as Eva moaned. She felt bloated, and the nozzle invaded her. The dull pressure seemed to fill her stomach. When a thick pad was put under her, a new wave of humiliated tears.

Dr. Emmas gave her a spoon of pink serum. It left an odd, but not unpleasant, taste in her mouth. She felt like she heard whispers from somewhere down inside her.

She gripped Jathan's hand, harder. He placed his hand over her's. She looked angrily away: she knew he was enjoying her punishment! He was unquestioningly approving of her submissive act in suggesting this horrible ordeal: his complete victory in their butting of wills--she would wear this modification as a mark of her abject defeat at his hands. For her, having a penitent in this position would be delicious. Oh--it would be so fine! She wouldn't be able to resist making the experience worse for her subject!

Oh! Oh she just wouldn't.

She glowered up at him.

Her sex clenched visibly! This was mortifying! Oh, it must be so sweet for him!!

"Make it worse," she nearly spat at him. "You know you want to. Make it awful for me!" she demanded petulantly.

He stroked her hair. "My Eva's feeling sorry for herself," he observed.

UGHHH!! "Let me close my legs!" she wailed.

"No, Eva," he chuckled.

Dr. Emmas had Nami remove her dress and panties and take a seat in a chair at the base of the bed with her legs spread.

"I'm going to use an alternate energy conduit," Dr. Emmas said. She took a clip, like a clothespin, and closed it on Nami's erect clitoris. The girl squeaked and whimpered.

A rubber covered wire led from the clothespin to another, similar one."

She bustled over and deftly clipped it onto Eva's own protruded, hardened clitoris. Eva let out a cry.

"That HURTS!" she howled.

When Jathan didn't lecture her that punishment was generally not supposed to feel pleasant, she lost control completely and started bawling.

"Okay," she said. "I think we're ready."

"Uhnnn--nooo--w-will it hurt??

"No, dear--it will be punishingly uncomfortable--but it won't hurt as such."

Eva sobbed harder. Then gasped. It seemed like she couldn't get enough air. Oh OH NO!

The jolt of energy ran through her clitoris and seemed to circle her region pulsing with frightening force! The need to empty her bowels was towering and she bore down as hard as she could--but instead of expressing waste, she felt something--a tail--round and lightly furred slither out from her tail-bone just above where her anal-cleft started.

She arched her back. She did release her bladder, the humiliation of doing so in front of everyone was scalding--but she couldn't keep from struggling under the sensation of urgency! She gasped and grunted and writhed.

Twin itches on her head erupted under her hair, and her unrestrained hands flew to them. Ohh--Ohhh! She felt the ears--the soft furred triangles--push out and she felt--oh--better hearing--she could detect sounds from the streets below. She moaned.

Jathan gripped her hand and she clutched his. A loud mortifying gas noise from her rear and the terrible urgency broke. Her legs fell. She panted. There was nothing in her to expel but she continued to try anyway, moaning.

"D-don't look," she gasped. She could barely get the words out. The tail was an obscene embarrassment. She squeezed her eyes shut! They were looking!! Ohh--Oh, mercy, they could see her modification.

Intellectually, she knew they found it cute--but somehow that made it unbearably worse. To her, it was a visible mark of a previously hidden inner shame. She curled on her side. It was so tender--so ripe for touching. It was obviously sexual in nature, as were her ears--she tried to cup her hands over her new set of ears, but where even she touched them, it had the same embarrassment of her fingering her anus. They were 'dirty' somehow.

She wailed.

She felt Jathan stroke her shoulder and her intense anger at him wasn't lost--but she needed his stability in the storm of her emotions.

She pressed against him, sobbing over and over that she was sorry for being such a brat.

GIRL'S INDEXIUM COLLEGE -- ALCHEMY DEPT. -- KIT

Kit quietly wiped down the chalkboard in Ms. Kleini's class. Ms. Kleini, his owner--he was serving a two-year sentence as a judicial slave and she had purchased him--was called out to some faculty event and she'd had to leave him to clean up her classroom. Almi, one of her 2nd year students, was doing her homework at one of the student desks. Although he spent almost all of his time in a cock-cage, and wasn't likely to get into much trouble if left by himself, she'd ordered one of her students to stay after rather than leave him "abandoned."

Almi had good marks and was cute--but she came from an awfully wealthy family and had judicial slaves of her own at home that she was in charge of punishing. It was almost a given that everyone in the exclusive girl's school intimidated him--but Almi especially so. He wondered if that was why Mistress Kleini had chosen her. It hadn't seemed like it--she'd been notified she had to go right then and had seemingly picked the closest student to "watch over him."

He wasn't sure why he needed looking after. Certainly, his exceptional level of sexual frustration meant he might illegally masturbate if he could--but he couldn't. Of course, maybe he would "scratch improperly" or need to go to the toilet (something he was supposed to do under watch--and needed someone to 'clean him' since he wasn't supposed to touch himself at all), but Kit got the strong feeling that Mistress Kleini didn't leave him alone because she felt like that would be "being a bad Mistress."

She took special care to ensure that his required minimum-level of punishment was always met, but she also made every effort to ensure that he never missed a meal and drank the recommended amount of water every day, always got sent to bed at an appropriate hour (she had a large, comfortable, "pet bed" for him at the foot of her bed--and sometimes if he'd had an especially hard day, he slept in her bed with her. She talked about it like Sleeping With Mistress was a treat, and it was--but he also found it harrowing to be in the bed with his mistress-owner and it made his cock especially uncomfortable).

He wasn't at all inclined to complain about his mistress: She cleaned him scrupulously (hugely embarrassing, but far better than the alternative). She dressed him in girl's clothing--intentionally as an embarrassment--but that seemed to be both because she had an extensive selection of girl's clothes that fit him and because doing it allowed her to log the "petticoat punishment" against his punishment writ, which meant other punishments, such as his regular 'maintenance spankings' could be less severe.

Now, though, being left alone with Almi and, worse, having finished his chores, he was going to have to risk either doing nothing--which could get him punished by the rich girl for slackery if she chose to, or he could try to make up tasks for himself if he could think of any, and hope desperately Mistress came back soon!

"Kit-slave," Almi's voice came as he was wringing out the cloth he'd used to clean the chalkboard.

Oh! He straightened. "Miss Almi?" He made himself turn to face her, blushing. If he gave her any excuse to find offence, she could amuse herself by spanking him or worse until Mistress came back--and even after, if Mistress agreed with her student!

"Come over here," she said, beckoning.

Shit. He scurried over and, after an awkward moment, knelt down by her desk, hands in his lap. Almi looked down at him. He wasn't exactly comforted by her smile--he knew the girls thought he was cute: but that often made them more, not less, eager to punish him.

"Miss Almi?" He asked. He wasn't supposed to call her Mistress--that was reserved for Ms. Kleini and her peers.

The girl gave him a slight smile. "Do you need to go to the toilets? I can take you."

Oh. Ugh. He blushed. "No, Miss. T-that's okay."

She reached out and ran her hand through the short hair on the top of his head. Flinching back or any show of resistance would result in punishment: he understood that it was meant to be a bit invasive and a little demeaning--but if he were completely honest with himself, he did like the kind touch. He also had to admit that the girls were usually very gentle with him.

He wasn't sure Miss Almi would be though. The thought of her putting him over her lap and administering a spanking certainly interested his cock--the cage he wore reporting its enthusiasm as discomfort--but he did his best not to let that show.

"I understood you took Nami out to a punishment assignment," Almi said conversationally. He blushed. He had escorted her classmate to an Alpothecary's shop, where she was assisting the senior alchemist in a disciplinary capacity. She'd been late to class once too often, and the woman had put in a request to borrow a third-year student to help with her work in an unpleasant fashion.

"I did, yes, Miss. Ms. Kleini didn't instruct me not to speak of it--but I don't know if--" I don't know if she wanted me telling all the girls, he was trying to figure out how to say.

Almi laughed, charmed, and stroked his face.

"I'm not interrogating you, Kit-slave," she said, gently. Using the diminutive suffix 'slave' usually meant the subject was being actively talked down to--such as during punishment--but coming from her, she made it sound affectionate. He swallowed.

She caught his fear and slipped off her chair.

"Sorry, Miss Almi!" He began. "I didn't mean--"

She knelt down next to him. Now sitting at his level. He looked down, blushing hard. Yes: he was expected to be afraid of discipline--but acting overly meek and timid could be seen as annoying or even as a way of trying to decline being assigned chores. In a best case, he understood that the general wisdom of working with a timid slave (or servant) was to punish them a few times--even mildly--to break through their reluctance. He had no difficulty imagining her learning this truism from her mother as a young, monied girl.

She put a hand on his shoulder. It felt warm and soft, and he couldn't suppress a shudder. He scolded himself: these were high-class girls! Elite girls! Normally, the only time he'd ever see one of them was maybe in the streets! He certainly wouldn't be being touched or spoken to by them. In fact, feeling any sort of affinity for them at all was scorn-worthy! He was a judicial slave. This girl had been tasked to oversee his behavior and, quite possibly, his misery!

"I'm not so afraid of being punished by you," he tried to explain--"It would just disappoint Mistress Kleini and I hate that! I--already have two marks this week--"

She rubbed his shoulder gently. He screamed at himself. This girl is supposed to be your task-mistress! Not your... nurse... or anything! He scolded himself. "Is--is there some chore I should--"

"Kit," she said. He snapped his mouth closed.

"Ms. Kleini adores you!" she said, shifting to rub his back. He felt a horrible, overpowering surge of blush. A stab of shame he couldn't quite place struck through him.

"yes, miss--I just--" he said, unable to put thoughts together. Oh, MERCY! He'd been left with one of her girls and now for no reason he was falling apart? What would she tell his Mistress?? That he finished his chores and burst into tears!?

"Poor thing--you've got your humors," she said.

Ohh--. He nodded miserably.

When he was purchased by Ms. Kleini, using the college's funds, she had secured a second batch of funds to have him alchemically modified to assist in meeting his punishment writ's requirements.

She'd taken the cheque and marched him to the upscale Kellam Square. She had brought him before one of the great city's senior Alpothecaries: an alchemist who specialized in alteration / transmutation medicines. The two alchemist had discussed what could be done with him, lightly making suggestions to each other that he didn't understand but sounded terrifying. Having any art worked on him seemed unfathomably dire--but after the two women had decided on what his mistress wanted to accomplish, she sat him on a chair and walked him through a detailed explanation.

Did he understand that women had "humors"--a period of bleeding discharge from their vaginas once per moon? He did. Did he understand it was related to their childbearing functions? Yes. Did he know it came with discomforts beyond just the blood-like discharge? Well, he'd heard so.

She explained that while boys didn't have the same issues, obviously, since he was going to be a judicial slave for a female mistress alchemist in a girl's college, she was going to have the senior Alpothecary modify him to suffer his own version of the humors. Once per moon, he would have a period of "discharge"--a kind of slimy excretion from, well, he didn't have a vagina, so they had decided on his anus--which he wouldn't be able to "hold" like he held normal waste (somehow the slime seemed to consume and convert normal waste so it was gross and wet and impossible to contain but wasn't as catastrophically bad as soiling himself would be--at least that was the theory).

She had explained to him that during these several days--as well as some time before and after, he would experience the internal humors girls did. He might feel bloated, achy, suffer cramps, need to rush to the toilets, and, most disturbingly, for him, suffer "increased emotional weakness."

When he had looked horrified by this fate, eyes wide with terror, she had explained that it would be no worse than what almost all girls his age went through and that she would take care of the discharge using the same sorts of applications girls used.

In his case, during these times, absorbant padding, or even padded "plugs" which were inserted into his anus and then extracted by means of a string when they were sodden with the discharge fluids.

This was beyond mortifying, for Kit and his Mistress had done a very good job of keeping the girls from knowing this happened to him. His secret had been kept until last week when the Alpothecary (who, in truth, had been very gentle with him, even during the application of his punishment) had told him to have his mistress ask her class-girls for help with him, and, obediently, he had relayed the suggestion to his mistress.

She had been quite willing to share the awful secret with the girls who, while behaving as though they were sympathetic to his plight--he knew full well they oughtn't be!--seemed pretty much only amused by the abject horror with which he treated the punishment modification.

In an act of breathtaking embarrassment, the girls had put together a calendar chart tracking, in public, when the affliction was on him, to better assist their instructress in the changing of his sanitation items and so on.

Now as she rubbed him, craning her head over to where the calendar was mounted so she could see, yes, that he was on his humors, he wanted more than ever to curl into so tight a ball that he would hopefully cease to exist entirely--or, failing that, actually die of embarrassment.

Thus far, he wasn't managing either. He did his best not to cry--but whimpered as she took him in her arms, and stroked his hair. He'd been told he would be "more emotional" during these times--but ohhhh--he felt like the most annoying and worthless judicial slave anyone had ever purchased!