Aisha lay sprawled on the conference table in the faculty lounge, her body a wrecked masterpiece of their dominance. Cum dripped from her pussy and ass, mixing with the sweat and tears on her skin. The marker writings stood out boldly: "TEACHERS' SLUT" across her breasts, "FREE USE HOLE" on her thigh, "SPANK ME HARDER" on her ass, "CUM DUMP" on her forehead, "ENTER HERE" framing her pussy lips, and "TEACHERS' PROPERTY" scrawled down her back. Her ass cheeks burned from the ruler spankings, welts crisscrossing the skin like a map of her submission. The five teachers—Sharma, Singh, Patel, Rao, and Verma—stood around her, zipping up their pants, their faces flushed with satisfaction but eyes still hungry.

"Ho gaya? Bas itna hi?" Mr. Sharma chuckled, wiping his cock on her torn blouse before tossing it aside. (Done? Just this much?) He grabbed her chin, forcing her to look up. "Nahin, randi. Yeh to trailer tha. Asli picture ab shuru hogi." (No, slut. This was just the trailer. The real movie starts now.)