Aisha was a 22-year-old college senior, majoring in literature at a small private university in Delhi. She was known for her sharp wit, her curvaceous figure that turned heads in the hallways, and her rebellious streak that often landed her in trouble. Today was no different. She'd been caught skipping classes again, mouthing off to professors, and rumor had it, she'd been teasing the male faculty with her short skirts and low-cut tops. The dean had had enough. He summoned her to the faculty lounge after hours, where a group of five male teachers awaited—Mr. Sharma, the burly physics professor; Mr. Singh, the stern math instructor; Mr. Patel, the sly history teacher; Mr. Rao, the gym coach with his muscular build; and Mr. Verma, the young English lecturer who always eyed her hungrily.

Aisha knocked on the door, her heart pounding a little. She figured it was just another lecture. But when she entered, the room was dimly lit, the blinds drawn, and the teachers stood in a semi-circle, their expressions dark and predatory. The door clicked locked behind her.