Yua watched him, her eyes on his, as he brought his belt down on her outstretched hand. The sound of the impact of leather on skin was loud, and he decided that he liked it. He wanted to hear it a lot more before these girls left the room.

Yua closed her eyes for a second and her mouth opened when the pain reached her, but her hand stayed steady, obediently proffered. Chiaki announced, “One, Sensei!”

Before him, on her knees, her mouth on his cock, he felt Asuka lightly shake her head. She knew Chiaki had done wrong. He pulled her hair lightly, tugging her head closer, and thrust into her for a time. His voice was hoarse when he said, “Your bottom itching, is it, Chiaki? Were you given permission to speak?”

Chiaki opened her mouth and shut it firmly. She shook her head emphatically.

“Yua? Would you like to administer Chiaki’s punishment strokes? When I’m finished with you? You may speak.”

Yua looked at Chiaki for a moment. The two girls communed silently. After a moment Yua said, “”I know she would prefer if you dealt with her. And whatever else you want to do to teach her. But … Even I think she’s a very bad girl. So, yes, Sensei, I would do that task for you.”

Chiaki grinned as though she’d won some victory. Seamus thought Yua should win a point now, so he said, at least. “Take off your shirt and bra for the rest of your strapping, Yua.”

She complied quickly and efficiently. Her breasts were beautiful, taut, not as small as Asuka’s or as large as Chiaki’s, but there are so many ways for breasts to be perfect, he thought. He said, “Yes, that’s better. Hand out again.”

He kept his eyes on Chiaki’s as he swung the strap down on Yua’s hand. Chiaki smiled when, this time, Yua gasped. The stroke hurt more, though he hadn’t made it harder. He learned that the impacts were cumulative. Each would hurt a little more than the one before.

He added the third stroke quickly. This time Yua couldn’t stop herself making a little grunt of pain. He smiled at Yua. She was teaching him things. “Other hand, Yua.”

She brought the left hand back to her side. There was a moment when it seemed she’d rub it with her right hand, but she glanced at him and decided it’d be wiser not to. She held her right hand up, palm up. She was more hesitant now. He touched her hand, not as comfort but to flatten her palm to make a better striking surface. “Keep it out and keep it still.”

He raised the belt again, then looked at Chiaki. “You may count these strokes.”

She nodded, looking into his eyes as intently as Yua was. He looked down at Asuka, now with long, slow movements, taking him deep, her mouth pressed against his groin when she took him, then withdrawing till only the head of his cock was in her mouth. She stared up at his eyes too; it gave her the same devout look of adoration that pretty women saints had in Renaissance paintings.

He reached down to stroke the back of Asuka’s head, but there was no need to press her closer this time. She was showing him she was good. Seamus wondered how many times she’d done this with enthusiastic boys, to preserve her other virginities.

Then he raised his gaze to Yua, her hand out, nervously waiting. He swung the strap, getting an impressively loud crack of leather on skin. As Yua’s face crumpled, looking infinitely sad, Chiaki sang out, “One, Sensei!”

He delivered strokes two and three, Sensei, unhurriedly, not increasing his force. After the third stroke there were tears in Yua’s eyes and one or two had spilled, running down her beautiful, porcelain face.

He took the belt and held it out to Chiaki’s face. She opened her mouth to hold it. Most of the things that were happening in this session were new to Asuka, except it seemed for oral service, but none of it was new to Yua and Chiaki. To them he was just another Sensei. He wondered how long he’d hold that status.

“All right, Yua. That was a lesson, that you do exactly what you’re told and no more, especially when you’re being punished. Did you learn your lesson, do you think?”

Her eyes sparkled; she’d shed tears from the pain, but she was also radiantly happy. She cast her eyes down and tried to look sorrowful and demure. She knew he’d like how she looked doing that. “Yes, Sensei.”

“Then you’d best say thank you, and tell me the lesson you learned.”

“Thank you for punishing me, Sensei. I will not again disobey you. I’m sorry for speaking without permission.” She looked at him, more cheerful. “I’m glad you punished me.”

“So am I, Yua. You took it bravely. Uh.” That last was in reaction to Asuka’s tongue. He liked what she was doing, slowly sucking him so he could still concentrate. He knew he’d need to hold her head tight and hard, fuck her mouth and come in her soon. But there were Yua and then Chiaki to deal with first. “So you’re nearly a good girl again. Would you like to earn your way back to being completely good?”

“Please, Sensei!”

“Then bend over the desk. You’ve been there before, I think.”

Yua had the sense to say nothing to that. She stood in front of the bench, took a firm stance with her feet well apart. She lowered herself so her belly and breasts pressed against the wooden surface. She let her hands and forearms hang helplessly down from the other side of the desk.

He caned her slowly, with a minute between strokes, each one hard, harder than Chiaki’s caning, watching the soft flesh of her bottom palpitate under the impact of each bite from the cane, and the stripes emerging bold, each one double-tracked and raised. He found the impacts and her reactions both voluntary – the little gasps, followed as the caning proceeded by louder cries – and involuntary like the stripes and her tears – so hypnotic, so beautiful and so sexual that he gave her a full dozen, though he’d only set out to give her six of the best.

He put the cane between her thighs and raised it to her pussy, rotating it once he made contact. She was a wet girl, whose juices had leaked beyond the thong to her thighs and glaze the cane. “Beautiful,” he said. “I mean you took your punishment beautifully. You can stand now, Yua.”

She stared at him in entreaty. He was passionately fond of her at that moment, so he said, “You can speak, Yua.”

“Thank you, Sensei.” She looked down at Asuka, assiduous at her task. “I know Asuka’s in your favour today and tonight. But can I hug you, Sensei? I hope you’ll tell me I’m a good girl.”

“It’s true, Yua. Sensei’s always tell the truth,” he lied. He put a hand to stroke Asuka’s bobbing head, and turned his upper body so that Yua could approach him. She was tearful, her eyes streaming now and her nose plegmy, She put her arms round him, and leaned her body against him. He reached down and squeezed her well-caned right buttock, and she winced then smiled at him. “Good girl. I know you’re a good girl.”

She closed her eyes and kissed him. It crossed his mind that she didn’t have permission, but it had stopped mattering. He opened his mouth and they kissed passionately, like lovers. Which he supposed they were, even if their consummation was still in the future. He had an idea forming about that. “You’re such a good girl, Yua. Such a wonderful, beautiful, clever good girl.”

He set her back a couple of steps, his hands on her hips. He had to deal with Chiaki.