The next morning Riya stood in front of the bathroom mirror in the boys’ apartment, glasses back on for the first time in days. Soft body freshly showered but still marked — faint bites on her heavy 36DD tits, light bruises on her thick thighs, both holes tender and slightly swollen. They had dressed her the way they wanted: tiny white skirt that barely covered the soft curve of her ass, thin pink top with no bra so her nipples showed whenever the fabric moved, and nothing underneath.

Kabir stood behind her, hands resting on her soft belly, chin on her shoulder. “Common room. Same seat as always. You smile, you study, you act like the same soft girl everyone knows. But you don’t close your legs all the way. And when one of us texts, you come.”