As the boys removed each item of Sneha's clothing, she was forced to walk down from the stage, her body shaking with humiliation and fear, and hand the item to the professor she had chosen. She had to approach them, stand before them, and place the item in their hands, all while trying to cover herself as best she could.

With each trip down from the stage, Sneha felt her humiliation grow. She could feel the eyes of the students on her, their stares burning into her skin, their whispers filling the air. She could feel the shame burning in her cheeks, the tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. She wanted to run, to hide, to disappear, but she knew she couldn't. She had to face this, no matter how humiliating, no matter how unfair.

After handing her shirt to Professor Gupta, Sneha walked back up to the stage, her body shaking, her arms crossed over her chest. She saw that the boys had moved on to her pants, and she knew she had to choose another professor. Her gaze landed on Professor Singh, and she took a deep, shuddering breath, her hands trembling as she reached for the waistband of her pants.

"I... I choose you, Professor Singh," she managed to choke out, her voice barely above a whisper. Professor Singh nodded, his expression unreadable, as Rohan handed him Sneha's pants. Sneha took a deep breath, steeling herself, and walked down from the stage, her body shaking with each step.

As she reached Professor Singh, she held out the pants, her eyes fixed on the ground, her body shaking with humiliation. Professor Singh took the pants from her, his expression unreadable, and Sneha turned to walk back up to the stage, her body shaking with each step.

The process repeated with her bra, and then with her underwear, until Sneha stood on the stage, naked and vulnerable, her body shaking with sobs she refused to let out. With each trip down from the stage, her humiliation grew, her shame deepened, her spirit weakened. But she knew she had to keep going, she had to keep fighting, no matter how hard it was.

And so, with each item they removed, Sneha handed it to a professor, got down from the stage, and came back up again, her body shaking with fear and humiliation. Until, finally, she stood on the stage, her humiliation complete, her spirit broken, her body shaking with sobs she refused to let out. The boys had done their job, and now, it was time for her to face the consequences of her actions.

The dean's words sent a shiver of fear down Sneha's spine. She could feel the panic rising inside her, the dread coiling in the pit of her stomach. She knew what was coming, she knew the pain that was about to be inflicted on her, and she knew that there was nothing she could do to stop it.

The dean picked up a long, thin cane from the side of the stage, his expression stern as he approached Sneha. He ran the tip of the cane over her bare skin, tracing the curve of her ass, making her flinch at the sudden contact.

"Count each spank," he said, his voice cold and hard. "And say 'thank you' after each one. Understand?"

Sneha nodded, her body shaking with fear and humiliation. She could feel the tears pricking at the corners of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She took a deep, shuddering breath, and braced herself for the first spank.

The dean raised the cane, and brought it down hard on Sneha's ass, the sound of the impact echoing through the silent assembly hall. Sneha gasped, her body jerking forward, her hands gripping the legs of the table as the pain exploded across her skin.

"One," she managed to choke out, her voice shaking. "Thank you."

The dean nodded, his expression unreadable, and raised the cane again. He brought it down hard, the sound of the impact echoing through the hall. Sneha gasped again, her body jerking forward, her eyes filling with tears.

"Two," she said, her voice shaking. "Thank you."

The dean continued, the sound of the cane impacting Sneha's skin echoing through the hall with each stroke. Sneha counted each one, her voice growing louder, more steady with each spank. She said "thank you" after each one, her voice growing stronger, more defiant with each word.

The audience watched in silence, their eyes fixed on Sneha's bare skin, their faces a mix of curiosity, malice, and pity. They could see the red welts rising on her skin, they could hear the sound of the cane impacting her flesh, they could see the tears streaming down her face. But they said nothing, they did nothing. They just watched, their eyes gleaming with anticipation, waiting for the next stroke.

As the dean reached the fiftieth stroke, Sneha's voice rang out, clear and strong. "Fifty," she said, her voice steady. "Thank you."

The dean lowered the cane, his expression unreadable. He looked out at the audience, his voice ringing out in the silence. "And that," he said, "is what happens to those who cheat. Remember it well."

And with that, the punishment was over. The dean turned and walked off the stage, leaving Sneha tied to the table, her body shaking with sobs she refused to let out, her skin burning with pain, her humiliation complete. The audience began to file out of the assembly hall, their eyes fixed on the floor, their faces a mix of shame and excitement. The first period was over, and they had all seen Sneha's punishment. They had all seen the price of cheating, and they would never forget it.