Taking a public whipping

You walk through the saloon to the area set aside for games such as darts, pool, table football and amusement with prize, looking for your student. On the back wall is a large glass (or, more likely, glass substitute) box, about four yards square and it is there that you find your quarry, the sight stopping you in your tracks.

Lorelei is fastened between two upright posts at wrist and ankle, a hook in her nose forcing her to look straight up at the ceiling. Her feet are bare and dangle a few inches above the floor, a pair of ballet boots propped against the wall of the box. Just inside the two uprights are a squat pair of dowels with rounded tops, upon which a prisoner could stand to take the weight off her arms, at the cost of immeasurable pain to the soles of her feet, but the box's current occupant in eschewing them.

With her in the box are two men, one appearing barely old enough to spank, stripped to the waist to reveal his well-defined abdominal muscles and rippling pectorals, the other maybe fifty-five, grey-haired and wearing a pin-striped waistcoat and trousers. Both men are wielding long whips, circling their helpless prey and applying lash after lash to front and back, seemingly intent on leaving not one sliver of flesh unpunished. You're only surprised that you can't hear any screams, as the nineteen year old is writhing in agony, her whole torso shaking uncontrollably with each blow, struggling to breathe.

You resume your advance and the younger chastiser takes a break, wiping the sweat from his face with a towel while his companion flicks his whip up along Lorelei's inner thighs. Several people are watching the brutal castigation from their seats, but nobody seems shocked by a stunning redhead being flogged mercilessly just a few paces away.

The younger man pushes open the door in the front of the box and suddenly you can hear the hoarse cries even over the hubbub of the hostelry. The box provides a measure of soundproofing, as well as protecting customers from potentially wayward strokes from the awkward lashes. He walks past you towards the bar, presumably to order a drink after his exertions, but you waylay him with a question.

"Er, excuse me, what is that girl being whipped for?"

"She's on a nudity punishment, mate, and she was being bashful and trying not to get noticed. She'll know better than to act all shy and superior after we've finished with her." He continues towards the bar as you reflect that he obviously doesn't regard the whipping as being over, although she must have taken close to forty lashes at full **** and maybe as many again as lighter strokes to more sensitive areas.

"Good," your companion interrupts your thoughts, "it looks like the nudity punishments are working as intended. I'm sure Lorelei will learn a lot from this experience."

Not for the first time, you're surprised by Julia's inclemency towards her students, but her words reassure you that the rules you've instigated are not overly harsh. Still, you wouldn't want the situation to go too far and you ask your date whether she'd like to stay and observe the rest of the chastisement to make sure Lorelei gets home safely and at not too uncivilized an hour.