You call Johanna and Lorelei back to witness their punishment

You jerk the door back open and Victoria and Catherine jump in surprise, knowing they've been caught out.

"Johanna, Lorelei, would you mind sparing a few more minutes?" you call.

The thoroughly humbled scholars turn apprehensively, no doubt wondering what new torment awaits them.

"Constant ridicule is only to be expected during a nudity punishment," you continue, "but that is no excuse for rudeness from other students at this university. Leave the shaming to those outside college. How would you like to join Johanna and Lorelei for an hour or two, to see things from their perspective?"

From the looks of horror on the newcomers' faces, they wouldn't like it at all.

"Well, since nudity punishments are new to all of us," you relent, "I will let you off with a warning this time…" They breathe a sigh of relief. "…and to make sure you remember it, you can each have five lashes with the strap on the fronts of your thighs. Johanna, Lorelei, you can go if you need to, but I think it might be useful for Catherine and Victoria to know that you've seen them take their licks."

You fetch a supple two foot long leather strap from its place on your wall. It's about three inches wide and quite heavy, but there are no perforations or embellishments to add to the pain of the impact, so you think it is appropriate for a simple warning. When you return, your previous students are still there, waiting in uncomfortable silence to witness their peers' punishment.

"Please may we have our warning stripes, Professor," Catherine is the first to ask for the strapping to begin, so you give her five backhand swipes, alternating direction to make sure the bruises are as even as possible. The freshers' skirts are short enough to expose the target area without needing to be raised and the leather makes a pleasing * SNAP * sound with each strike. Soon, you're finished and the blonde thanks you for your efforts, fighting to hold back her tears while you repeat the procedure on her tute-partner. She hardly reacts to the sharp blows except to thank you earnestly and you suspect that she's no stranger to harsh chastisement. Normally straight A students, this week Victoria has slipped to an A-minus, thanks to an imprecise exordium, so you decide to wait for your tips until she's had her six of the best and instead cheerily inform your other students that they can go for real, this time. They smile as they thank you again and seem a little happier about their enforced nakedness, a situation which is unlikely to last, but you suppose they have to take what relief they can from their terrible ordeal.

Motioning the new pair of freshers to precede you into the room, you close the door behind you and walk over to the rack of canes, taking the appropriate one and replacing the strap you just used. Victoria knows what's coming and when you gesture for her to adopt the position, she does so effortlessly and without embarrassment, putting her cheerleader training to use. Stepping behind the tall young woman, you notice that just like the rest of your students, she isn't wearing any underwear, which must make cheerleading an interesting experience. Also, her angular buttocks are mottled with bruises and blisters.

"Been in the wars lately?" you ask jovially, in a good mood thanks to the public performance you've just put on.

"Oh, you know, Professor. Coach Buerk's very dedicated to getting the best from the squad. No paddling's too much trouble and if one of us messes up, we all get swats."

You become distracted for a moment by the thought of a troop of fit, beautiful sportswomen grabbing their ankles so their coach can belabour their behinds, whilst the girl responsible is **** to look on at the suffering she's caused her teammates. You wonder whether maybe you should institute a general rule to make group punishments mandatory—but no, the risk of unforeseen consequences outweighs any advantages that might follow from encouraging young ladies to police each other's behaviour in this way. Still, the idea has merit and you file it away in your mind for later reflection, when you have time to consider the implications carefully. Right now, though, your musings are interrupted by Victoria's plea for punishment:

"I'm sorry for the problem with my essay. Please may I have the first stroke, Professor?"

You lay on the six briskly, but without hurrying. Apart from a gasp with each impact, the recipient takes them well, thanking you calmly and clearly. By the end, her eyes are watering, but no tears have fallen. You return the cane and invite your students to sit. Each undergraduate uses her smartphone to transfer her tip into your bank account (you're going to need some time to recover from earlier activities before being ready to be tipped with sex).

"Catherine, did you see any of the deficiencies in Victoria's work?" You ask the blue-eyed blonde, now fully composed and recovered from her strapping. Indeed, you wouldn't know she'd been on the brink of tears mere moments ago if it weren't for the redness and darkening splotches on the fronts of the thighs.

"Apparently Tory made a couple of last minute changes after I read it, Professor."

"Well, that may have been a mistake."

"Yes, Professor." This time it's Victoria who answers. "Cathy thought the second sentence could use work, so I reworded it, but I was in such a hurry that I forgot to delete the old version and that's why it didn't make sense. It won't happen again!"

You check that her extra-curricular commitments aren't impacting her academic work and satisfy yourself that she's now on top of her time management before starting the tutorial proper.