The flight back to Delhi was quiet on the surface.

Riya sat between Kabir and Vikram in the middle row, wearing a loose dress that hid most of the marks. Underneath she was bare — no bra, no panties — the way they had dressed her that morning. Her soft thighs pressed together, but every shift of the plane made her sore holes remind her what they had done for days. Heavy 36DD tits moved freely under the thin fabric. She kept her eyes down and her breathing steady while the six boys took turns resting a hand high on her thigh or against the soft side of her breast whenever the cabin lights dimmed.