The Lemurian Institute Pt 03

The discovery of the buried and hidden cities and artifacts from the ancient sunken continent of Lemuria marked a sea change in 21st century science, history, and civilization. Expeditions into the Antarctic wastes, the undersea ruins, and the massive pockets of air hidden deep in the earth where the advanced, pre-human civilization retreated to (before vanishing entirely) have only just started--but already they have yielded bizarre and disturbing relics, objects of an advanced, inhuman technology, and copious pictograms and wall carvings and documents depicting a society with intense sexual and social domination. As the world tries to cope with, and understand these new discoveries, the cultural norms and behaviors have begun to shift rapidly towards what it appears Earth's first intelligent inhabitants (who for the most part appear very much like humans) engaged in.

This is nothing to say of the sometimes disturbing finds that the barest exploration into these newly uncovered realms have brought back.

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Hamilton Student Union building - Naomi

Naomi was one-hundred percent pissed off. The lady at the Student Services desk had sent her to the back of the queue for violations of the student dress code! It turned out the campus student handbook specified "neat, acceptable, and clean clothing"! Her jeans, Nami ripped skinny jeans, which she had bought two days ago and enjoyed wearing on campus were SUPPOSED to look like this. They weren't 'dirty' and they weren't ACTUALLY torn.

The old bitch had first suggested, in a low voice, that she go home and change into something more 'appropriate.' When she'd told the stupid woman that these were 'in style' and 'she wasn't about to change for some dried out crone, the woman had sent her to the back of the queue. She'd waited there, awkwardly, until the boy behind her had asked if he could get help. The bitch was clearly not going to help her until she did her time back in the back of the line--so, furious, she had stalked off and gone back behind the six people waiting.

She'd felt their eyes follow her. Oh! She hated this. She ALMOST gave up on this shit and went back to her dorm--but she needed to get a slip for the computer center. She stewed and growled and glared, until FINALLY, she was next in line. It wasn't until the security girl appeared at the help desk that she realized she might have made a mistake.

"Naomi Cartwright?" the woman in the campus security uniform asked. She looked like she was in her mid 20's and Naomi thought she had a friendly-looking face. However, the woman knowing her NAME was unsettling. She pretended not to hear, but when the woman shifted her hands to her hips, she felt a tingle of concern. Reluctantly, she gave up her place in line and came around to the the side of the help desk.

"Yeah?"

"Naomi?"

"Yeah," she said again, letting it drawl slightly. She felt a little thrill of the insolence. Normally she wasn't really brave enough to mouth off like this--but oh, she'd wanted to! Letting the help-bitch have it was something she's wanted to do in various cases for quite some time. Now, looking at this rent-a-cop woman, she decided that SHE was paying THIS GIRL'S salary with her tuition!

The security girl nodded. She had a yellow pad of forms in her hand.

"This is a Student Disciplinary Council referral form," the officer said. "If you cooperate, I won't write you one. If you don't, I will--and a bad one--" she showed Naomi the form, it had a set of checkboxes from MILD BAD BEHAVIOR to SEVERE BAD BEHAVIOR. The woman tapped the last one.

Naomi stared at it. She wasn't normally in a lot of trouble--and she wasn't a hundred percent sure what the 'Student Disciplinary Council' could do--but with a sudden shuddering grip of fear, she remembered Stacy in her dorm being referred to EACH of her teachers for a 'personal spanking.'

She'd found it outrageous and insane... and kind of hot--but Stacy had been utterly undone! Having to present herself to each professor and confess that she'd tried to plagiarize an English paper and ask for... a spanking!? Apparently Stacy had begged pleadingly before the asshole Council members! Apparently her groveling HAD made it slightly better--but, Stacy was red-faced, just thinking about the show she'd made.

Stacy had cried in the bathroom for the rest of the week as she'd worked through her sentence! Naomi was suddenly horribly aware that if this security woman gave her the fucking referral slip, she might get the same! Worse: having to beg on her knees for a tiny sliver of mercy was unthinkable!

Staring at the woman, she realized she SO did not want a referral. The immediacy of what might be done hit home and she shuddered. "Sorry," she stammered. "I'm sorry--I lost my temper with the--with the lady--can I just go? I'll leave."

The woman shook her head.

"When she sent the message to campus security, I asked her what she wanted--and she wanted to make sure you learned not to behave that way before you got in REAL trouble with someone less forgiving."

The security girl glanced at the woman behind the desk, helping another student. Did the woman look... smug? A little triumphant? She didn't look over, but surely she could tell the security officer was lecturing Naomi! Shit!

"O-okay..." Naomi started. What was she going to do. She COULDN'T get one of those awful referrals!

The security woman nodded, apparently ready to 'get started.'

"Two demerits," said the woman, holding up two fingers. "The first for dress-code. The second for, well, for rudeness."

Naomi felt her face go hot. Blush--but she nodded in misery.

"You are going in Time Out for forty five minutes, and we're going to have a private correction in the girl's bathroom. Buck me and you get the referral and I'll make sure they put you through the ringer. I want a well behaved young student, here, got it?"

Oh... fuck. Naomi nodded.

"Yes, ma'am?" the officer prompted. Fuck!

"Yes, ma'am," Naomi said haltingly.

"Good. Now all you have to do is as you're told." She took Naomi's wrist and marched her across the Student Union to the bathrooms. Naomi was blushing with wild misery, her face shining. Like a nightmare, she felt like EVERYONE was watching her.

A glance back at the help desk and she saw a satisfied--but sympathetic look on the face of the woman. A worse spike of dread. Oh, she HAD been rude! She KNEW better--but it had been SO TEMPTING! She'd felt SO EMPOWERED!

The officer pushed into the girl's room and led her past a girl washing her hands to the end stall. It was unoccupied and the officer led her in.

"Take those pants off," snapped the officer. Naomi felt like she might literally swoon. There was no doubt the girl outside could hear that clearly--and the look on the officer's face made it clear what their destination had implied!

"Please," she whimpered.

The officer rolled her eyes. "Naomi--you are old enough to take a spanking with, if not dignity, at least obedience. I'm going to spank you and then--" she held out what looked like a plastic package--"take you to your Time Out. If you behave, and properly apologize to Mrs. Higgens after this, it'll be over. If not, I WILL write that referral and you'll be VERY sorry."

Apparently Naomi's miserable little nod was enough to get her to continue.

"Take your shoes off--leave your socks on. Pants down and off. Okay? Do it now."

Naomi felt like the instructions were meant as though Naomi couldn't figure out how to strip her pants off without step by step and the officer took her backpack off her shoulder and placed it to the side as she unbuttoned her pants with trembling fingers. Shit! She--was she going to CRY?? It suddenly seemed likely. Her face was absolutely flaming. She pushed her jeans down.

A desperate stab of humiliation as she wished she'd worn cleaner panties! The ones she had on were also cute ones--high cut with little hearts. Not precisely 'fuck me' panties--but the sort of thing she'd wear on a date! She let out a little moan pulling her pants off an the officer took them and efficiently folded them. She placed the pants on her backpack and then sat on the toilet.

"Over my lap, Naomi."

Now tears DID well up. She shook her head! No! She couldn't! The officer took her wrist and pulled her forward. She resisted at first--but then, wretchedly came and bent herself over the officer's uniform trousers. Staring at the tile floor, she watched in misery as a tear leaked and fell with a little splatter.

The officer positioned her, slightly and then--Oh--and THEN--she hooked the waist band of Naomi's panties and drew them down to her knees. Naomi cried out! A soft wet shriek of horror! No! No! NO!!

"Give me your other hand--" the officer reached for her right arm. She took Naomi's wrist and cinched it behind Naomi's back--not hard--but enough to trap her there. "Good--I somehow suspect you won't be able to take this with any self control," the woman said. "I'm going to give you nineteen now--one per year, girl. I want you to think how you deserve this AND the punishment referral on top of it--but Mrs. Higgens who you were so rude to didn't want that unless you kept misbehaving."

Ohhh--Naomi was barely able to keep still, her buttocks felt like they were glowing with vulnerability.

POW! The slap sounded to Naomi like a gunshot in the tiled bathroom. Oh! OW! Fuck! She let out a startled cry at the smack--the outrageous insult of it--the humiliation! The pain was probably secondary--but this woman spanking her on her bare bottom was UNBEARABLE!!

Then it happened a whole lot more.

POW! POW! POW! SMACK! "Ow! Oh!! OUCH!! AHHH! OWW!" her cries--loud, shrill, and desperate! The officer actually chuckled! "The people outside are going to think I'm killing you," she said.

Oh! Oh NO! POW--POW-POW! POP! Naomi shrieked, tears spilling down her cheeks. She struggled over the officer's lap, sock-clad feet thumping on the floor and the tile that went three feet up the wall. She was bawling.

WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! SMACK! "You need a lot more of this," said the officer, applying her hand. "At nineteen you oughtn't need this--and when you do, you ought take it better!"

Naomi couldn't 'take it better.' WHAP! POW! SMACK!!

The officer easily contained her wailing charge's struggles and delivered the smacks with precision.Naomi, unable to bear it, or control herself, wept.

Pow! The cessation of the spanks took a few seconds to filter into Naomi's consciousness. Her vision was blurry. Snot and tears dripped from her nose. She was aware of the sound of the toilet paper roll rolling--and then, her buttocks smarting mightily, she felt the officer--OH MERCY--the officer wiped her vagina with the wad of paper.

This simple act was so monumentally humiliating that Naomi's breath caught.

"Now," said the officer, sounding a bit conciliatory, "we just have our Time Out and our apology. Stand up, feet apart, hands on your head, facing me."

Naomi did so, blazing with shame, her body quivering with quite sobs.

The officer had retrieved her plastic package and was unzipping it.

"Something tells me, Naomi, that you are going to have more of these in the future--" she gestured at Naomi's bottom by way of explanation. "I know you won't want to--but there is a group of teacher's Assistants with 'Domestic Training' office hours."

She had opened the bag, and paused. "I'm sending an invitation to your student email. I recommend setting up a monthly session: You'll get good instruction and you'll be able to handle discipline--when you need it--far better."

"But for now, Time Out--and, since it was a dress code issue--" she with drew what looked like hot-pink rubber shorts from the bag. "Hot pants."

Naomi, breath still heaving, face a mess, stared at the pink full-coverage rubbery 'panties.'

"I am going to put these on you. Let's take your panties off entirely." The officer reached out and drew Naomi's panties down. "Hands stay on your head," she said gently. Naomi had removed them ostensibly to help--but also--oh--to COVER herself--she HAD TO.

"We just got these in--a donation from a woman's group--" The officer held the bright pink shorts up. They looked far to small to go over Naomi's area. On the buttocks area, in black block letters, the word PUNISHMENT was printed.

"They promise to be quite a miserable time," she told the girl. "I'm not going to lie: you won't enjoy this--and you aren't intended to."

Her eyes sparkled with tears as the officer loosened and unsnapped something at each hip and then placed the surprisingly thick rubber sheet over her area. She drew it between Naomi's legs, over her sex and then, thick and tight, over her buttocks. The woman snapped them in at one hip and then, with a pull, over the other.

Naomi stared.

"Mmph, that's unfortunate for you," the officer said.

She was referring to the small but highly visible cleft in the rubber between Naomi's thighs. Her vulva, swollen with arousal, was deforming the rubber panties and creating a horribly visible 'camel toe.'

"You'll want to control yourself better in the future--right now, everyone is going to get a show."

Naomi wailed softly. The officer took her pants and her panties and put them into the rubber bag. "I'm taking these--they'll be properly laundered and returned to your dorm," she said. "You are going in Time Out for 45 minutes--it'll seem quite a bit longer, I'm afraid."

She stood, hefted Naomi's book bag. She took the girl's wrist.

"Are you feeling them yet?" she asked.

Naomi cringed. She--she was starting to--a horrible prickly ITCH on her buttocks. Both spanked globes still smarted from the attention--but now, under the rubber--they were starting to feel even MORE uncomfortable--to ITCH. Was this what the officer meant??

"F-feel--?" she asked meekly as the woman led her out of the stall.

"The hot-pants," said the uniformed girl. "They will make quite a point, I think. Now, you're not to touch them--certainly not to try to remove them--and those are thick enough that you won't be able to scratch through them--but even trying to isn't allowed. Let's get you to Time Out so we can start the clock, huh?"

She sounded encouraging and Naomi was mortified that she needed that.

Time Out turned out to be standing behind the help desk, in view of EVERYONE, hands on her head, nose against the support pillar inside it. The woman who had summoned the officer, quietly working with students who came up to register for services or ask questions.

The word PUNISHMENT was clearly visible and the Naomi heard the woman answer brief questions from students about her fate.

"The school doesn't have a very strict dress code," the woman said. "But if you are wearing pants with holes ripped in them, you can get sent back to change. If she'd done as told, she wouldn't be there."

Naomi wanted, dearly, to be anywhere else!

The itch had begun in earnest as she put her nose to the pillar and it relentlessly tormented her. Her buttocks felt hot and swollen--slick under the thick rubber--and OH!! OHH, FUCK--did they ITCH.

It didn't go down inside her cleft and spared her pussy--she might not have been able to stay standing if it hadn't--but the curved expanse of her bottom ITCHED mercilessly.

She bounced on her toes, her buttocks jiggling. She clenched and unclenched them, drawing even more attention to her exertions--and it did NOTHING. She whimpered! Loudly.

"Twenty three more minutes, Naomi," the woman said simply. "You can do it."

The encouragement drew even more awful tears. The unbearable itch seemed to prickle and 'shine' along her curves--she imagined going at her rear with a cheese grater! A little moan. A louder one.

"Seventeen minutes, honey," the woman said, sympathetic. "Don't break the rules. You'll get a referral. You don't want that."

She didn't--but OH! She COULD NOT BEAR IT. NOT ANOTHER MINUTE.

At eight-minutes to go, she failed and, sobbing, went down on her knees and tried to work the terrible 'hot-pants' off.

"Naomi!" the woman, sounding stricken for her. The rubber pants resolutely did NOT come off! Naomi would have returned to her dorm naked if she could--but try as she might, she could not get the locking ring-belt around her waist to open. She tore at the thick rubber and it defeated her. She wailed, kneeling, as the officer came to get her.

No one in the Student Union was aware of it: even when they looked right at the thing, they didn't see it--but under some conditions, the pale cuttle-fish like thing clinging to Naomi and the officer--and the help-desk woman, would have been visible.

If it had been, they would have seen its tentacles wrapped around their regions, passing as easily through clothes or rubber as through air. Each of the things, its soft-shelled head running along their spines like a small, inflated tube, was moving its tentacles gently, coaxing the behavior it desired out of them.

As the one on Naomi gently plucked at her, as though she were a stringed instrument, it enjoyed the spectacle of her begging on the tile floor as the officer wrote out a referral for its host. The remorseless itch of the hot pants resonating inside it, and the unwanted arousal of her region swelling under its tentacles.

It did not 'feed' exactly, on Naomi's misery. No, it clung to her, evaluating its host: quite the little brat who had a stern set of lessons ahead of her. The thing, so far as it thought in ways humans could understand, was pleased with the path its human had been set on and it was more than capable of making sure her various flaws would be exposed and well addressed under its care.

Hamilton University Washroom - Ami

When the campus security officer opened the door to her stall, there was a frozen moment of horror. Her skirt off, her panties gone, she had her legs spread wide, the balls of her toes on the floor. Her left hand was down, her middle finger clearly and tenderly stroking her clit. Her right wrist was clamped in her mouth to keep her quiet.

What she was doing was horribly, awfully obvious.

Officer Moore had her hands on her hips.

"Masturbation in a public bathroom," the woman said, archly. The lighting bolts of mortification were starting to spread from her sex up through her body, Ami's eyes widened. The security woman triggered her walkie talkie radio. "Ellen, I have a 3-24 on the second floor of Bryant Hall. I'm bringing her in."

It was, technically, ANOTHER 3-24 public masturbation. There had been a startling uptick in these discoveries and the security staff was astonished and a bit horrified by the outbreak. One thing that wasn't in question was that these students were going to be very sorry once this was over.

Ami clamped her legs closed, horrified and not breaking into tears by some kind of uncontrollable tears by a miracle. The officer had reached down and snatched up her skirt and her backpack.

"Get up, girl," snapped the officer.

"Please, miss, I'm sorry!" moaned Ami. "Please don't report me--" Even as she begged, she knew it was pointless. The officer held her pack and skirt in one hand. The other was on her hip.

"I said up," she said. "You are in trouble--every beat you sit on that toilet it gets worse."

Ami moaned. She got up, face burning. The security girl had removed a loop of cord from her belt.

"Hold out your hand," she snapped.

Miserably, Ami did. The officer slipped the loop over her right wrist and pulled it tight. The nylon cord was smooth and soft.

"Put your other hand next to it," she ordered.

Trembling, Ami did, and the woman expertly looped the cord around it as well and cinched it. tightly. Now her wrists were leashed and the officer turned and led her across the bathroom floor. Ami couldn't bear it--she let out a soft "Noooooooooo."