Kafka traced a delicate figure eight across Nami's bust, holding the crop pinched between her thumb and first two fingers. Tears ran down Nami's face as she tried to shy away, pushing herself against the teacher's desk with her face turned away from Kafka. The crop continued its delicate trail, Kafka's guiding it lovingly, like a conductor's baton,
"Please Kafka," Nami pleaded, "You really don't have to do this. I'll stop being delinquent. I'll be here every day, just please, stop this."
The crop halted at the top of Nami's breast and snapped with frightening speed to her right cheek. Though she flinched, the crop did not strike her face. Instead, Nami felt it dig in painfully as her head was forced around to look up at Kafka.
"Of course you won't be absent anymore, silly," Kafka said smiling, "I just said I was going to take care of your attention problem."
"Simple," Kafka replied, snapping the crop backhanded across Nami's cheek, making the bound girl wince in pain. "Punishment."
"P-punishment?!" Nami cried, her cheek stinging, " For what?"