Cane April for not supporting Debbie

You look through the girls' past marks for the year on your computer and frown.

"Is something wrong, Professor?" asks April.

"Hmm," you reply, "I see from your records that you've been doing consistently better than Debbie. Do you discuss the assignments with each other before you complete them?"

"Yes, Professor, the whole group gets together after lectures to talk them over and brainstorm our essay plans."

"And do you read each other's essays after you've written them and give comments and advice on how to improve?"

"Yes, of course, Professor. Peer review is one of the best ways to learn, you taught us that."

"Well, since you're apparently able to produce grade A work without fail, why isn't Debbie doing the same? I mean, are you not seeing the deficiencies in her work or are you not explaining them to her or is she ignoring your comments?"

"Um, I thought I was giving constructive advice, but I didn't want to come across as overly critical, so maybe I could have been a bit more explicit."

"Debbie, do you have anything to add?"

"I understand what's wrong, but I don't really see how to put it right until you explain it in tutorial, Professor. I see what April's done in her essay, but without copying her train of thought, I just can't get it to flow right. I'm sorry."

"April, I know that you want to be nice to your friends, but sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind and just tell them when they're making a mistake. That's why from now on I'm going to cane you for Debbie's marks as well as your own. You're one of the most talented girls in the year and I want you to put that aptitude to use by helping your colleagues. Now take your position."

Both students appear shocked by your capricious and blatantly unfair decision, but neither one protests. You hope that seeing her tute-partner punished for her own failings will work where caning Debbie herself has failed, spurring her on to greater academic success. If it also helps April to become more assertive and confident in her abilities, so much the better. Even if your experiment doesn't produce dividends, you will certainly enjoy your chastisement of the pretty young fresher.

The girl in question is already in tears as she adopts the position over the table. She has been strapped plenty of times and knows what is expected, but a caning is very different.

"Have you ever been caned before, April?"

"Only on my birthday, when I was being assessed to see what implement I should carry around with me. The cane hurt much worse, but left terrible marks, so they chose the tawse, because my bottom never seems to wear out from that."

You suppose it makes sense that girls have to be assessed at eighteen to comply with your rules. As you line up for the first blow, you notice that April's toes barely touch the floor, so much shorter is she than the blonde you were caning a few moments ago. Her bottom is unblemished; either she hasn't been tawsed recently or she was right about the heavy strap not leaving visible marks upon her peachy rump.

Remembering how quickly your shoulder tired before, you resolve to moderate your strikes and slash the wicked rod across the apples of your student's pert cheeks at about eighty percent of your maximum ****.

The effect is still electric, as the brunette virtually bounces off the table.

"Oh, oh, oh, one, th-thank-you, Professor. Oh, oh, please may I have the next stroke."

You work your way slowly down her curvaceous rear, spacing your cuts so that although individually excruciating, the agony does not combine to an unbearable level just yet.

After four blows, April is sobbing continuously and finding it difficult to speak clearly, but still holding up well, all things considered. The fifth stroke reaches the top of her thighs, eliciting a squeal and a sudden trembling of her legs, as if they were trying to shake off the pain. Your tactic of not using full **** seems to be working and your shoulder isn't playing up at all, so you decide give the last stroke as hard as you can. Winding up, you crack the cane diagonally across the swollen welts already adorning her inviting posterior.

"Aieee!" April kicks back in agony, unable to cope with the sudden increase in pain.

"I'll repeat that one," you say, eliciting a wail and a fresh round of sobs.

*THWACK*

Landing on the same spot raises a stiff white blister along the top of the ridge formed by the previous assaults upon the shapely brown buttocks. This time, by a supreme effort of will, the brunette manages to remain still, but lets out a heartrending scream of anguish.

"I realize that you may need to cry, but shouting out like that is disrespectful and no-doubt disturbing to our neighbours. I will repeat the stroke," you say.

"I'm sorry! I'll try harder," whimpers the suffering girl through her tears.

The blow (the eighth) lands just half an inch below the last, in the place where the bruising is most sensitive. Again April howls in agony, her cheeks beginning to look like a washboard.

"That's another repeat," you announce and April breaks down, barely able to breathe for the wracking sobs shaking her slim torso.

You don't wait, but lay on the next in the same spot with all your might and the suffering girl can finally take no more. She grabs her throbbing buttocks with both hands in a vain effort to assuage the burning pain. Piteous mewls come from her mouth and you notice that Debbie is also crying in sympathy for her friend's torment.

"April! Take those hands away. Do you know how dangerous reaching back like that is? I could have broken your fingers if I'd been swinging at that very moment."

The bawling student complies at once, but the damage is done.

"Stand up and face me," you order and she obeys. "Hold out your hands, shoulder height, palms up."

You inspect the trembling teen. Her eyes are red-rimmed and the front of her blouse is soaked by tears, plastered to her shapely breasts like a translucent second skin. You need to decide how to punish her lapse; the rod in your hands is far too heavy for use upon a girl's fragile palms, hence the reason for your concern in the first place. You could use her own tawse for the purpose, but there are a number of canes in the rack on your wall and you think one or two of them might be suitable.