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Author's note: One part of this chapter is set to music, and I actually listened to the piece in question as I wrote it. If you'd like to do the same as you read that section, the links are below. Since I don't name the piece right away, I'd suggest you either wait for the name and start over or open the first one in a new tab/window and pointedly ignore the page title.

Music, Part 1

Music, Part 2

* * *

The Disciplinarian went on to spank Sara and Hannah, but after his spectacular finishing blow on Rachel, the other two seemed almost an afterthought. Even as he finished the squirrel's slaps with one across both cheeks, many eyes were still on Rachel. No ordinary spanking--even one of his--could compete with the still-sobbing girl at center stage.

Tilting his head in thought, the Disciplinarian said, "Is it just me, or is it... too quiet in here?" As if to prove his point, the audience went dead silent. "Let's make sure they're still awake, shall we?"

Bending over to look at Rachel's face politely, the vice-principal said, "Rachel, I do believe you had a special request. Am I remembering that right?"

Rachel discovered that there was a camera in the TV below her as it echoed her confused face back at her. She racked her brain, trying to come up with anything that Mr. Thoreau might be referring to.

"Don't remember, hmm? Oh, that's all right, I think Dave wrote it down for me." The screen returned to Howard Thoreau as he reached into his pockets and dug around for a bit. "Ah, there it is." He pulled out a small piece of paper, unfolding it.

In a mocking falsetto, the Disciplinarian read, "What, do they use a cane?" The audience let out an evil chuckle.

Rachel froze. She'd almost forgotten that someone had overheard that conversation. At the time, a mere caning had seemed like a trivial price to pay for the fame her prank would achieve. Now, after feeling for herself what the Disciplinarian could do with a hand, it didn't seem like such a laughing matter anymore. A low wail from her left signaled Hannah's agreement.

The Disciplinarian feigned indifference, but his tone gave lie to it as he said, "Well, if you insist." From offscreen, someone handed him a classic wooden cane, about three feet long and an inch in diameter. The view pulled back to show Rachel's still-exposed rear end, glowing bright red from its recent spanking.

The Disciplinarian gripped the cane just past its hook and lifted it up into the air. "Say aah."

"Wha--AAAAAAAAAH!" The cane must have made a noise as it hit, but Rachel never heard it. She didn't hear the strokes that hit Sara and Hannah either. Her mind had turned to more important tasks, like how to remove the line of molten metal that had suddenly started burning its way into her butt.

* * *

It took a full two minutes for the cries of the three bound girls to finally subside. Quiet whimpers provided background noise as the Disciplinarian mimed patting his ear to clear it.

"Well, I think that's about all the ordinary pain we can deliver without making our honored guests pass out or my eardrums break." The audience groaned in disappointment, and the Disciplinarian chuckled. "Small wonder so many of you do badly on tests. You need to pay attention. I said that was all the ordinary pain we could use. But we've only just started. Ergo, there must be some other kind of pain. And if any of you were paying attention earlier, you would remember something that I got started, but haven't used yet."

The Disciplinarian walked past the three tables and touched a button on each, causing them to fold back together and flip over, returning to the inverted Y shape. He waved a hand in signal, and the view split in four once more. One part showed him, and the other three each showed a close-up of a spread pair of thighs. A chuckle raced through the room as the audience spotted what the Disciplinarian had aluded to: the clit clips, still gripping their captives tightly to make them swell up.

The screen returned to a single view and backed off to show the entire stage. With macabre curiosity, Rachel watched the Disciplinarian slide her own table a bit further from the audience. At the same time, the bear and croc moved the other two girls in front of her, turning them so that the legs of all three tables met with the Disciplinarian in the center. It looked sort of like a triangle, but with all three edges broken in the middle and pushed outwards.

The two helpers each handed the Disciplinarian... well, Rachel's best guess was a mop head that had been died black and then had most of its strands pulled out.

"These," said the Disciplinarian, "are known as a cat-o-nine-tails. Yes, there are two of them, but 'cats-o-nine-tails' just sounds stupid. Anyway, they're basically just a bunch of whips that have been grouped together in one handles. These have nine strands each, which is sort of traditional, given the name.

"Back in medieval times, they would be made with stiff material, and could do some very nasty damage to the pour soul who was on the wrong end. Since I'm not really interested in causing permanent harm, I opted for modern versions. They're not hard to find; if you ever are in an adult store later in your life, you can find them sorted under B, D, S, and M."

The Disciplinarian turned to face Rachel and backed up against the joint closest to the audience. "I'm sure all of you have realized what I'm about to do with these, but I think these three are still reliving the cane blow. Let's refocus their minds."

With three quick flicks, the Disciplinarian brought the right whip down on Rachel's exposed pussy and supercharged clit, the left whip down on Hannah, and the right whip again on Sara. For leverage, he crossed his arms as he delivered the last two strokes, swinging the whip in front of himself.

Three matching gasps came from the girls as the blows landed, their eyes going wide at this new twist.

"As you can see, we got a very different reaction here. Because the cat spreads the blow over a larger area (and doesn't hit as hard to start with), the absolute amount of pain is significantly less than spanking, let alone the cane.

"It might seem to you that this would mean a lesser reaction, but that's clearly not the case. What's going on is that the vulva, particularly the clit, is far more sensitive than the buttocks. And as it's part of procreation, the mind gives it a significantly higher priority. Boys can see the same effect by giving themselves a light rap on the balls." He paused long enough to wince. "But I really wouldn't recommend it.

"Of course, exactly how it works isn't really important. This is a practical demonstration, not a theoretical seminar. And who says that a practical demonstration can't have a little flair to it? Let's have some music."

After a moment's display, the speakers clicked faintly, then started playing music. Some soothing classical piece, with only strings. Rachel frowned in confusion as the screen showed the Disciplinarian swaying from side to side and waving the cats gently like a conductor's batons.

After almost two minutes, woodwinds took over, then the strings joined them again. Rachel frowned deeper. The music sounded... familiar, somehow. The soothing melody built to a crescendo, then turned harsher with the beat of a large drum.

An oboe solo, competing with the strings. The other woodwinds joined in support. The music built to another high point, then tailed off to deep strings. It was about four minutes in when someone played a military beat on a small drum.

It was then that Rachel recognized the main melody. The 1812 Overture. A music piece so epic, the drum beats are sometimes played by cannons. In a flash of inspiration, Rachel realized what was coming. And by the look in the Disciplinarian's face, he'd seen her figure it out.

It wasn't until almost two minutes later, with the crash of a pair of cymbols, that the Disciplinarian showed that she was right. He did it perfectly, not betraying for a moment what was about to happen, but timing it just right so that the slap of the cat on her clit combined with her yelp and the cymbals, turning her body into a percussion instrument.

Once again, Rachel realized that the anticipation might be just as bad as the event itself. The cat hurt, true--and it was so tender!--but as often as she had heard part of the 1812 Overture, she didn't know the whole piece. A drum roll would make her tense, only to die off without a crash or a slap. And then soft beats on the big drumb would be accompanied by a light hit, not even enough to draw a cry of pain, only enough to startle. And a hard beat out of nowhere.

And back to soothing strings, and then a flute melody. Forget Mr. Thoreau, what kind of monster was Tchaikovsky_? Okay, granted, he probably didn't intend for it to be used this way, but still! Every time I think I know what's coming, he wrote something else!_

Another drum beat yanked her out of that line of thought with a yelp. And then another! And another! There must have been six or seven, but Rachel lost count. And the main theme again, with no big drum beats.

Rachel couldn't concentrate. She couldn't even tense up, the music was taking too long. Here came the main theme again, and she couldn't even bring herself to care.

As it turned out, making her care was the Disiplinarian's job, as the theme brought drum beats again, and a lot of them. A short descending section on the strings, and then it started up again.

Rachel didn't realize that the finale was just around the corner. The Disciplinarian did, and he finally started alternating his strokes between the three girls when church bells joined the percussion instruments he was matching.

The finale itself was... torture, pure and simple. Even with the cats alternating between girls, Rachel was being hit once a second or so. She was sure it couldn't be all that long, but it felt like it must be at lest five minutes before the music finally came to a close.

All four of the furs on stage were panting and sweating heavily as the Disciplinarian turned to his audience and took a bow. The audience erupted in applause, with the occasional whistle or shout thrown in for good measure.

When the applause finally died down, Mr. Thoreau said, "Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Rule 34 on the 1812 Overture!"

Some of the audience didn't get it. In fact, it would be fair to say that most of them didn't get it. It didn't matter, though, because the ones who did get it laughed loud enough for everyone.

* * *

"Well, let's see," said the vice-principal. "I did an audience request, so to speak, from Rachel, and that was clearly the main event. So to complete the gig, I suppose I need an encore. You do want an encore, right?"

The audience applauded and hooted once more, but only briefly as Mr. Thoreau raised his hands. "Okay, okay, I get the message. Well, it does so happen that I have something planned. It's so current that I think it may shock a few people to see an old fogie like me transforming instead of resisting it. Let's amp things up a bit, because I think you'll get a charge out of this. In fact, I'm positive of it."

A few groans came from the audience, and even Sara let out a pained grunt. Rachel, however, was just as clueless as most of the audience. Even the boxy device that a stage hand wheeled in didn't help.

Vice-principal Thoreau gave an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry for those of you who have been paying attention in Physics this last week. The rest of you really need to study up on your electrical terminology, because that battery of puns was truly re_volt_ing." More of the audience groaned this time.

The Disciplinarian pointed to the box. "This is an electrostim. In short, it's a device for transmitting electrical pulses through the skin. Depending on the settings I use, it can produce anything from a light tingling sensation, to involuntary muscular contractions, all the way to pain. Guess which one we'll be using." The audience chuckled.

"Actually, it can also be used for a very different effect too, but we'll get to that later. For now, this is another place where I'm going to give you a warning. I already warned you about the clit clamp, and I think you know better than to attempt my, ahem, special spanking. This one can be really dangerous, though. If you use it the wrong way, or even in a few of the right ways on the wrong person, you can get some very nasty reactions indeed. So if you want to try one, make sure you get good instructions on what not to do. This is where most shows will tell you not to try this at home, because they're experts, and you're not."

The Disciplinarian swept a glare slowly across the audience, as if seeking a promise to be careful from each and every student. "But there's no need to worry here, because I am an expert, and I'm the one at the controls. So sit back and enjoy."

The Disciplinarian rubbed his hands together and turned back to Rachel. "Since this is only an encore, I think we can spare the other two. Let's start off with a pair of electrodes beside each nipple, shall we?" He affixed the pads to Rachel's skin, then tugged on them gently. "There we go."

Taking his time, the Disciplinarian leisurely walked back to the machine. "Here's one." He pressed a button and Rachel jumped. She had expected a jolt like static electricity gives, but it felt more like someone had punched her in the chest. "And two." The Disciplinarian pressed a second button, and a kick landed on the other side of Rachel's chest.

"Okay, let's move on to a more sensitive area." The camera panned down Rachel's body, and the audience chuckled quietly. Moving quickly, the Disciplinarian placed a contact on either side of her slit, then pressed a third button. Rachel let out a small "Ah!" of surprise as the electricity flowed through her. The punch was still there, but this time Rachel could feel a little of the electrical zap as well.

Without missing a beat, he came back and attached a tiny electrode onto each side of her clit and pressed a fourth button. Rachel exhaled forcefully. This one had no punch to it, it just felt like electric fire dancing along her nerves.

"I think one more should do it, but this one is special." He held up a rounded metal bar with a pattern of dark plastic all over it. "It's actually a bunch of electrodes, all over the surface. And once I coat it with some conductive gel..." He pulled out a tube and smeared the gel all over the bar. "There we go. I think I can find somewhere to put this, don't you?" The audience laughed conspiratorially, and Rachel tried once more to sink into the table.

Turning back to Rachel, the Disciplinarian brought the multi-electrode to Rachel's pussy. Smiling up at her, he twisted it and eased it inside.

Rachel was confused, to say the least. Even after all that had happened, she realized that she was wet enough that the gel wasn't really needed. And despite herself, she closed her eyes as it slipped inside her. It felt strange, but it was a good kind of strange. Full and tingly, sort of like a satisfying meal. She shuddered as the Disciplinarian stepped back, knowing what was coming.

With a fifth button press, the Disciplinarian drew a small scream out of Rachel. For a moment, it felt like she had a humongous, terrible cramp all inside her belly. She panted, feeling muscles twitch in the aftermath of the jolt, and looked up at the Disciplinarian. Isn't that enough? You don't need to do any more, really! I won't break any more rules! Her thoughts died unspoken as she saw his awful smile once more.

"Well, she seemed to respond well to half power, don't you think?" Rachel's permanent blush paled. "All of the contacts are working, so let's teach her a lesson she won't forget."

The next few minutes were hell on earth for Rachel. Not even the cat could compare to the raw pain of the electrostim machine. With his usual flair, the Disciplinarian moved the shocks around her body. Fire, cramps, shocks, and blows kept her off guard, never knowing where the pain would strike next. She was kept eerily silent simply by overwhelming her senses.

At long last, Rachel noticed that the pain seemed to have peaked, and might even be dropping. After a few more jolts, she was sure of it. Compared to the full-strength shocks, these were almost tolerable. As the Disciplinarian lowered the strength even further, pain turned to tingling, and she shivered at the unfamiliar but pleasant sensation. Even tingling soon faded, though, as the Disciplinarian brought the power level to zero.

The Disciplinarian took another bow, then said, "Unless I miss my guess, that last section should have given us a good head start on the next act of our little show. That being the case, let's move on."