The next pair of students arrives late

You finish updating the computerized record for the previous tutorials and glance at the wall clock to see that it is already time for the next session to start. Thinking that perhaps you missed the knock to tell you your students had arrived, you call out "Come in," but the door does not budge.

With a sigh, you get up and walk over, but when you open the portal, you're surprised to see just one fresher standing there, a smartphone held to her ear, staring at you with an air of panic. She is a curvaceous, olive-skinned brunette, wearing a lacy black blouse, tight green miniskirt and black leather strappy sandals coming up to mid calf. She nervously runs one hand through her thick, curly hair, which tumbles unchecked to the small of her back, then tries to explain the situation, in an accent you can't quite place.

"Sophie is on her way right now, Professor. She'll be here any moment."

"And you thought that instead of coming in when I called you and explaining that, you would wait out here so that you would both be late?"

Inês (for such is her name, the power of the Rulebook tells you) at least has the grace to look abashed.

"You know the penalty for lack of punctuality, don't you?"

"Yes, Professor," she replies glumly, but you realize that you actually don't, so you continue to look at her expectantly until she adds "oh, um, it's one swat of the Faculty Paddle for each minute of tutorial wasted."

"That's right," you say, assuming it is, "and since you're so keen to share Sophie's fate, we'll wait for her to arrive and then punish both of you together. Fetch the Faculty Paddle and adopt the position."

Inês turns off her mobile and puts it away in her bag, then walks over to the rack on the wall and takes down a frankly huge rectangular paddle made of a translucent synthetic material nearly half an inch thick. A herringbone pattern of slots lightens the prodigiously heavy instrument and allows it to pass through the air more quickly, for a more memorable impact. When Inês passes the fearsome object to you, it doesn't take long for you to decide to wield it two-handed and only use moderate ****. After all, you don't want to break the table upon which the two miscreants will be leaning!

When Inês assumes the familiar spanking posture, you resume your seat. You make her wait in the uncomfortable and demanding stance while you relax and admire the strain in her shapely calves and toned thighs. You find yourself hoping uncharitably that Sophie will be very late indeed, but it is only a couple of minutes later that you hear an urgent rat-a-tat on the door and you tell her to enter.

A tiny waif-like blonde hobbles stiffly into the room, wearing a sleeveless white blouse, baby-pink pleated skirt and cork sandals whose four inch wedge heels are barely sufficient to bring her height over five feet. Her hair is like spun silver, falling straight and smooth to her waist and the skin of her arms, legs and bare midriff is as pale as pink alabaster, but you notice that her face is a deep red and soaked with tears. At first, you think she is flushed from crying, but then you see that she has been slapped repeatedly in the face and you can even vaguely make out the bruises left by the fingers of the hands which struck her.

Her cornflower-blue eyes take in the sight of her tute-partner prepared for punishment, then turns to you and says "I'm sorry I'm late, Professor."

"Go on," you reply, "explain yourself, young lady. Where have you been?"

"I was having lunch in town when a couple of locals said I was dressed like a slut and started spanking me," she gestures to the large wooden serving spoon she carries, "and then others started joining in. I told them I had a tutorial and they just spanked me extra for insolence. There were some women there, too; I think they were the ones who suggested to their husbands and friends that I should be punished in the first place and the men let them slap and spank me too. After, I had to tip them all with blow jobs, shags or my bum, so I knew I was in danger of being late. Then Dr. Richmond caught me running in the quad and spanked me again, so I was even later." The elfin teenager breaks down in fresh tears. "I'm so sorry. I was stupid. I never even thought to change my clothes before going off-campus, but of course this isn't appropriate to wear in town during the day." She motions to indicate her revealing ensemble.

"Well, I'm glad you've learned your lesson, now let's get on with your paddlings and the tutorial."

Sophie shuffles over to the table and for the first time you see the effects of the spankings she has already received. The backs of her thighs are black with bruising, peppered with blisters where the skin is starting to peel. The blonde lifts her skirt to reveal tight, slim buttocks left raw and abraded by the relentless punishment, making it clear that the enormous paddle can't fail to do serious injury to the slight girl.

"Wait a moment, Sophie. Your backside isn't in great shape, so if you would like, I'm willing to give you double the normal number of swats next week, instead of paddling you today."

"Oh, Professor, would you? Thank-you! I won't let you down; I'll be on time to everything from now on, I promise."

"Very well. Now, Inês decided that she wanted to share your punishment, so she will get the same number of swats, but there's no reason she shouldn't get hers today, so we might as well begin."

"Ooh, Inês, I'm sorry, I didn't know!" The waif seems even more distraught by this news than when she was facing chastisement herself, but her tute-partner just shakes her head quickly, dismissing her concern. You're pleased that she isn't trying to blame Sophie for the trouble that she brought on herself and step behind the exotic brunette to apply the Faculty Paddle as you have decided she deserves. The tutorial is now over four minutes late starting.

Inês has a full, round rump, which seems ideal for flagellation and indeed already bears the fading stripes of several whippings of differing vintages. The sweet spot of the perforated paddle slams into her buttocks with a crack which echoes round the small office. The breath is driven from the young woman's lungs by the impact, while black bruises form instantly at the points of contact.

"Oof, one, thank-you, Professor. Please may I have another?"

You heft the paddle again, taking your time and allowing the object's weight to do most of the work.

*THUD* "Uuuuh, oh, two, thank-you, Professor. Please may I have the third?" Tears are already falling and you pause to allow the ache to sink in.

*THUD* "Nnngh, uh, uh, three, huh, thank-you, Professor. Please may I have another?" The poor fresher's voice is starting to falter and the end is nowhere near.

*SLAM* "Oh-oh-oh-oh, four, thank-you, Professor. Please…please may I have another?"

*THUD* "Aaaargh, guh, five, thank-you, Professor. Oh, please may I have another?" The cheek further from you is completely black by now and grossly swollen. The nearer buttock is also badly bruised, but not as far gone. The tutorial is now five minutes late.

*SLAM* "Ah-hah-ah-hah, six, thank-you, Professor…please may I have another?" You walk past the trembling girl to administer the remaining swats from the other side and even up the damage.

*SLAM* "Nnngh, Aieee! Seven! Thank-you, Professor! Please…please may I have another?"

"There's no need to shout, Inês. Keep a respectful tone to your voice or I'll repeat the stroke."

"I'm sorry, Professor, I'll be good," the sobbing girl replies.

*THUD* "Oh, oooooh, aaah, thank-you for the eighth swat, Professor. Please may I have the ninth?" A snuffle from the other side of the table causes you to glance over and see that Sophie is weeping almost as hard as Inês.

*SLAM* "Nuh-huh!" It takes several seconds before the brunette can conquer her tears to continue: "Thank-you for the ninth swat, Professor. Please may I have the tenth?"

*THUD* "Aaaargh, aah, thank-you for the tenth swat, Professor. Please…may…I…have…another?" Inês appears uncertain whether to ask for more as she doesn't know for certain how many she'll be getting. Neither do you, come to that.

*THUD* "Pfff, uuurgh, Eleven, thank-you, Professor. Oh, huh-uh-huh, please may I have another?" The olive-skinned student is showing remarkable strength to avoid complete breakdown in the face of such a brutal onslaught. You think about giving Sophie's dainty backside such a roasting next week and feel yourself getting hard in anticipation. Even if her bruises have somehow healed by then, you can't imagine the delicate girl taking a beating like this without earning extras.

Checking the time, you see that the tutorial is coming up to six minutes late and tell Inês that this will be the last smack.

*THUD* "Oh, thank-you for the twelfth swat, Professor. I'm never doing that again!" Both buttocks sport concentric circles ranging from black at the outside to white at the centre, where the skin is blistering. The edges of the slots in the paddle have left their own marks too and the curvaceous teenager's rump is mottled with livid weals.

"Alright, ladies, take a seat and be quick about it. If you waste any more time, I'll have you back over for more."

The girls jump to obey, lowering their tortured nates onto the hard wooden seats with near-identical wails of anguish. Both freshers are shaking visibly, gasping for breath as the agony spears up into their battered derrières from beneath.

Although aroused by your actions, you choose not to pleasure yourself with the brunette's exhausted body, as it is her petite tute-partner whom you particularly wish to violate. Therefore, you have Inês pay you for your services and then begin the tutorial without further delay.