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Carly reached the gray door on the fourth floor of the Lawyers Circle Residence Hall. The note fastened to the door read 'Mediation in Progress'. She wasn't specializing in Mediation or Arbitration at law school, but opened the door and entered the contemporary meeting room to join her two teammates and Isla. They played together on the Women's Ultimate Frisbee team.

She was lucky to be at law school. Unlike her fellow students, she got paid to learn. Her boss, Anya, paid for her legal learning and granted her an income so she could focus on what counted. Her backing from the prominent human rights lawyer only meant her professors rode her harder.

Isla's boyfriend, Curtis, said, "Hi Carly, grab a chair."

She took the last black leather swivel chair at the round table. She hadn't wanted to join this session, but Curtis's warning that he would approach the University Sports Club Council if she didn't, had given her enough pause for thought to attend, and her two team mates presence proved they'd reached the same conclusion.

"Thank you all for coming this afternoon," Curtis said. "I'm specializing in Mediation, so this is session is a learning experience for me. I scared you with the Sports Club Council to get you to show up, but this is a collaborative meeting where I want you to speak your mind, but you must also allow others to do the same, and give them a reasonable hearing."

Surrounded by nods, he said, "Isla, please go first."

Isla took a deep breath. She looked at the teammate to Carly's right, still sporting a long, thin, black bruise below her left eye. "I'm sorry. I flung the frisbee right at your face on purpose. You suspected I did, and you're right. I can only apologize for losing it. I believed you'd hit on Curtis in the bar after our match the night before."

"Thank you, Isla," Curtis said. Nodding towards the injured girl, he said, "Would you like to respond?"

"Yes, I would," she said. "This bruise is embarrassing and hurts. It makes me look stupid or hated and I never hit on Curtis." She nodded at him. Her tone more conciliatory, she said, "I was very drunk that night. We all were. If I hit on him, I wasn't capable of following through and I didn't intend to. I can't remember what transpired that night, so I can't explain for certain my behavior in the bar, but I can tell you I don't have designs on him. Sorry, Curtis."

He waved his hand in dismissal.

"Are we done?" Carly said.

"Not at all," Curtis interjected. "You three girls have been refusing to speak to Isla, shunning her at every turn, and choosing not to throw to her during games."

"She deserved it," Carly said.

She'd instigated the policy to support her injured friend, and they'd isolated Isla with satisfying success.

"Please keep it civil," he said, his tone firm.

Reaching for the university handbook, he opened the green manual at the page he'd marked and read out loud, "This includes making someone feel isolated by deliberate means."

They'd all signed to accept the handbook and agree to the strict, student-run honor system. They'd pledged not to lie, cheat or steal, and to observe the code of conduct. Anyone found guilty by a jury of their peers got expelled from the university.

"Does that describe what you did to Isla," Curtis asked.

The quiet teammate on Carly's left spoke up. "I think it might."

Curtis stared at the rest of them. "Do you agree?"

Carly saw the corner he'd put them in. And lying wasn't an option. "Yes," she said.

"That came straight from the bullying definition on page fifty-one. Do you want to read it for yourselves?"

"No," Carly said, grasping control of the meeting. "We're here of our own free will to discuss this. What are you proposing?"

"If Isla reports you to the Sports Club Council, they may make an example of you. It could mean being expelled. I'm not threatening you, but it's within her right. It would be nice to agree on a solution between you and Isla which allows her back in the fold, forgiven."

Carly glanced at her teammates. They seemed content for her to lead the negotiation.

Curtis said, "Your conduct should entail some consequences because what you did was bullying by definition. Isla's behavior was also wrong, but it didn't warrant your response."

"She should get consequences too," Carly said, keeping her tone neutral.

"Isla admitted her offense inside this room," Curtis said. "What's said in mediation stays in mediation so you cannot report her for the offense she confessed. But as your mediator, I believe her behavior also warrants consequences."

Isla looked aghast. Carly smiled. It was obvious this was news to the girl. She'd wondered if Isla and Curtis had stitched up the meeting beforehand. His girlfriend's expression of horror convinced her he was acting in good faith.

"What consequences are we talking about?" she asked

"I hope you all respect I'm seeking to work out this conflict between you, not retaliate, because Isla is my girlfriend. I propose I paddle all of you, and Isla."

Isla's wide eyes battled the silence in the room.

"You said nothing about paddling me?" she blurted out.

"Discussing these proceedings with you in advance would have been improper. I warned you I would be unbiased. You should feel just as ashamed as the rest of these girls."

Chastened, she chose silence as her solution.

"What do you think, Carly?" he asked. "A few hard whacks to show you're sorry?"

"How many?" she asked.

"Four," he replied. It would cause considerable, but not unkind, pain. "You all caused each other embarrassment. Either a bruised face or cruel isolation. The punishment should fit the crime, so I propose the extra humiliation of getting it on your panties. You're all girls. It takes grit and fortitude to drop your jeans and contribute to making the paddle hurt you more, and on your panties the sting will last longer."

Carly smiled. She was well aware of how shameful it was to strip for your punishment. Miss Roberts would be proud of his solution. Paddling his own girlfriend in front of them was a worthy move. Isla deserved it for using the frisbee as an offensive weapon at point blank range.

Her teammates deferred to her. "I instigated the meanness," she said. "Sorry Isla. As long as you're fair, Curtis, and paddle us all with the same force, no favoritism for your girlfriend, then I agree and accept your decision. You've carried out a fair session and I want this over today."

"It can be," Curtis said, getting up from the table. Opening his black backpack against the wall, he pulled out a long pale paddle drilled with six large holes.

She just held her gasp. It was brutal and would go through her flimsy panties. The sight chastened her. She glanced at each of her teammates and at Isla. There was no dissent. They all wanted this to be settled. It has escalated way out of control. She nodded at Curtis.

Pulling his chair aside, he created space and patted the paddle against his muscular thigh. "Take your swats with respect and dignity. You're being paddled for disgraceful behavior and your bottoms will throb for days. Isla, you must go first so your teammates can see justice served. Stand up, please."

She obeyed her boyfriend and stood facing the table in the gap he'd made.

Carly stood, moved back, and leaned against the wall. The other girls followed suit, unwilling to encroach on Isla's humiliation. Soon it would be themselves bending over the table in equal shame.

"Push down your jeans," he commanded.

Carly watched Isla undo her skinny blue jeans and push them to her knees, her white cotton bikini panties appropriate for punishment. She envied the girl. She wasn't wearing such suitable underwear.

"Bend over," he ordered.

Isla bent down over the polished wood table and rested on her forearms, her palms flat in the middle of the table.

"Isla, I'm not sorry to paddle you. You threw that frisbee intending it to hurt."

The loud swat deafened Carly's ears as the oak contacted taut cotton. The sharp shriek from Isla's mouth echoed with the swat. Carly could imagine the burning sting in the girl's firm cheeks and admired her for staying still. Curtis let her have it three more times, each as solid as the first, roasting his girlfriend's backside with genuine commitment.

Carly's respect grew, along with her fear. Isla's proper paddling only meant hers would be the same. Glancing at her scared teammates, she smiled encouragement, hoping nobody lost their nerve now.

"Stand up, Isla," he ordered.

The tall girl obeyed.

"No rubbing. Stand against the wall with your hands on your head."

Hampered by her jeans, Isla moved next to Carly and did as she'd been told.

He pointed to the girl whose bruise was at the center of proceedings and beckoned. She pushed off the wall and stepped over to the position Isla had vacated.

"Jeans down," he said.

Fingers fumbling, the girl got her dark denim down, displaying pretty bikini panties with green and yellow stripes.

"Bend over, young lady," he ordered, his voice stern.

The dark-haired girl obeyed, placing herself right down on the table, her head on its side between her outstretched hands.

"Isolating someone from social contact is wicked. You played your part. No doubt you felt justified, but I hope you've learned today that your actions were not."

"I'm sorry, sir," she said.

Carly smiled. Being bent over in your panties had a humbling effect. The girl's words tugged at her own heart. She could imagine saying the same. He was treating them all hard, and his stern words were fitting.

The oak slammed into the honest girl's green and yellow landscape. Panting in place, she otherwise didn't react to the stunning sting the swat must have delivered. The paddle blasted into the girl's butt, eliciting a sharp 'ouch' this time. She took two more worthy whacks in stoic silence.

"Get up," he ordered.

The girl rose, turned to him and said, "Thank you for paddling me, sir."

"You took it well," he said.

Jeans around her ankles, she shuffled over to Isla and offered her hand. The tall girl removed her hands from her head and hugged the girl she'd injured. "I'm so sorry."

"Me too," the bruised girl said. Without being instructed, she assumed a position next to Isla and placed her hands on her head as Isla returned her hands to their correct position.

Curtis called the other girl forward. Her short auburn hair in a stylish bob, she stood in the appointed position.

"Drop your jeans," he ordered.

She obeyed. The outstanding attitude of the girls who'd gone before her demanded she meet the standard. She shoved down her tight jeans and stood before the table in skimpy gray panties. Carly bet she wished she'd put on something more pretty today, but the humble attitude of her friend filled the room.

"Bend over," he commanded.

The girl leaned on both hands and lowered her body down onto the table, pushing her panties out as she straightened her legs. From her angle, Carly could see the girl's panties bared much of her cheeks.

"Mean behavior was too easy for you. I hope this teaches you a lesson."

The tone set by the previous girls, Carly watched her teammate turn her head towards him, and say, "I'm sorry, sir. Please paddle me hard. I'm paddled at home and I deserve this."

"Okay," he said.

Air punched through the holes as the paddle sped up and crashed into the girl's bare butt. Red burst forth across its landing zone, brightening the gray cotton nearby. She clenched her teeth, showing he'd hurt her and let out a slow breath with the rising pain.

Two more swats scorched bright red heat into her exposed skin, thrusting furious fire and deep ache into the girl. She kept her willing attitude, and said, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Curtis said, "One more."

The paddle smashed into her tight butt, forcing a brief gasp as it completed its fiery punishment pattern on her behind.

"It's over," he said.

The girl rose and shook his hand. "Thank you for paddling me, sir. I deserved it."

"Good girl. Join the others."

Her skimpy gray panties lined up beside green and yellow stripes, and plain white cotton, her hands on her head and a proud smile on her face.

"Carly," he called.

She stepped forward. He didn't look like he'd just paddled three girls. His right arm could deliver serious swats. She reached her place in front of the table and waited, hands by her sides, for his command.

"Jeans down."

She undid her narrow belt. The black designer leather inset with miniature gold stars thrilled her and made her skinny black jeans stand out in a crowd. Her tight black tee only forced eyes down her curves to the beautiful belt. Unsnapping the button, she forced her jeans down. She'd felt so sexy this morning, she'd chosen only a tight black cotton string to go under her jeans. Her bare bottom was not yet obvious to the female audience, but exposed to him she felt brought down to size.

Shame shuddered down her bareness as she accepted her part in their crime.

"Bend over, Carly," he ordered.

To a collective gasp, she bent down, resting right on the table, her hands flat and her head angled to face her friends. She'd let them down by leading them astray. It wasn't behavior she was proud of.

"As the ringleader, it's fitting you'll get this bare. I hope you're ashamed of yourself."

Knowing he could hear her, and needing her audience to know how she felt, she said, "I'm sorry, sir. Please paddle me harder than everyone else."

"As you wish," he said.

He rested the gigantic oak against her bare skin in warning and withdrew it.

Fire burst across her bareness, blasting pain deep into her behind as fury suffused her skin. She stayed still, her legs straight and proud without a sound escaping her lips. The expressions on her friends' faces told her how hard the swat had been, as the agony in her bottom reigned supreme.

Pain slammed into her cheeks and penetrated her bottom, delving deep towards her sex. The humiliation of getting swats in front of her friends forced heat into her sex. It packed up her pain and presented it to her mind. "Thank you, sir," she said. The utter ignominy of being heard to thank the man who was paddling her while he was doing it drove her self-respect sky high.

Fire landed on fire as the paddle roasted her bare backside. The view he had of her abject apology felt fitting. Exposed to him, shivers of honor ran down her spine as pain pulsed through her bottom.

"Last one," he said.

A brutal bang echoed off the walls, matching the flaming inferno of her backside as heat exploded across her bare butt, scorching her skin. She kept her eyes on her friends and her mind free to receive her pain. He'd beaten her in public, and she'd deserved it.

"Stand," he instructed.

She complied and turned to him. "Thank you, Sir. You were fair."

"You took it well. Join your friends."

She put her hands on her head, shuffled over to the wall, and added her black string beside her friends. Arrayed in their panties and paddled, they made a sorry, proud sight.

He came over and stopped in front of them. "Do you consider the matter closed?"

Four heads nodded.

"Pull your jeans up. No rubbing your bottoms. Let them burn. It will do you good. You're good girls."

Threading her belt with care, Carly was last. Her bottom on fire, she went to Isla and opened her arms.

Accepting the welcome hug, Isla said, "I didn't know he'd paddle us."

"If you had, it wouldn't have been fair. You should show him heartfelt thanks tonight. He's a powerful man and an outstanding mediator."