In the stern, stone-walled classroom, the Queen of Queens commands her subjects, a mix of college coeds and barely-legal teens. Donned in Catholic schoolgirl uniforms, they kneel, awaiting her discipline. She paces, her heels clicking on the wooden floor, a riding crop tapping against her thigh. "Pussies out," she orders, and they comply, exposing their wet, shaved slits. She scrutinizes each, running the crop along their folds, making them shiver. "Better," she says, "but not good enough." She proceeds to spank and tease them, driving their arousal higher until they're begging for her touch.