They threw Ira on the bathroom floor.
She hit the tiled floor hard — knees first, palms slapping cold ceramic. Pain shot up her legs.
"You thought you could just slap me and walk away?" Vanessa loomed over her, voice low and venomous.
" You messed with the wrong girl. Now I'm going to humiliate you. I am going to get you raped really bad. "
Ira's eyes widened.
Ira scrambled backward until her spine hit the base of a sink. "Let—let go of me—"
Ava crouched, grabbing a fistful of Ira's hair and yanking her head back. "Nah. You don't get to talk anymore."
Sophia laughed, sharp and ugly. "Time to give the Krossvales a little present."
"Get her shirt open," Vanessa ordered.
They lunged.
Hands—too many hands—clawed at the front of Ira's white school shirt. Buttons strained. Ira crossed her arms over her chest, fingers locking desperately around the fabric, but the girls were stronger, angrier. Nails scraped skin. Fabric pulled taut.
"Stop—stop it—!" Ira's voice cracked.
Buttons strained. One popped free, skittering across the floor.
Ira jerked violently, arching, trying to curl her torso away. Her own hands flew up, clawing at theirs, trying to protect the placket. Palms collided, knuckles knocked, fabric pulled in opposite directions.
"Stop—stop it—!" Her voice cracked behind Ava's palm.
Another button tore loose. Then another.
The shirt tore at the seam near her shoulder with a sickening rip.
More buttons gave way.
The shirt fell open in jagged halves.
Ira's arms flew up instinctively to cover herself, but they were already wrenching her wrists down.
Her red bra—satin, delicate lace trim—was exposed. Her breasts rose and fell rapidly with panicked breathing, soft curves trembling inside the cups.
Vanessa barked a cruel laugh. "Look at that. Little miss righteous even wears slut-red underneath."
"Pathetic," Sophia sneered. "Thought you were so pure."
Ava laughed cruelly. "Bet the Krossvales would love this color."
Ira thrashed, tears already burning tracks down her cheeks. "Stop—please—don't—"
Vanessa leaned in close, breath hot against Ira's ear. "I'm gonna take that pretty red bra and toss it right at those wolves downstairs. Let's see how long it takes them to hunt you down and eat you alive."
Listening to her sharp words , Ira started begging and pleading to her,
" Please don't do this to me. I will do anything you ask me to. Please don't do this. "
Vanessa's fingers hooked the front band of the bra.
Ira's eyes widened. She bucked hard, a desperate, full-body thrash.
"No please—don't "
Too late.
Vanessa yanked.
The bra tore away with a sickening snap of elastic. Soft breasts bounced free, heavy from the sudden violence of the pull—full, pale, tipped with dark chocolate ni pples that tightened instantly in the chilly bathroom air.
A beat of stunned silence.
Then laughter—sharp, vicious.
Sophia whistled low. "Damn. Look at that. She has been hiding actual goods."
"Those nipples are practically begging for attention," Daria mocked. "Chocolate kisses, huh? Cute."
Ava smirked. "Bet the wolves downstairs would kill for a taste."
Vanessa dangled the red bra in front of her face.
"Sophia," she said sweetly. "Take this outside. Throw it down to the Krossvales. Let them know we've got fresh meat."
Sophia's eyes lit up. "With pleasure."
"No—no—no please!" Ira's voice cracked into a sob, arms still crossed tightly over her bare chest. "Don't—I'm begging you—"
Tears streamed hot down her cheeks, she is weaker now, her whole body trembling.
Sophia smirked, already backing toward the door.
"Too late for sorry, bitch."
She unlocked the door and sprinted out, red fabric fluttering in her hand like a flag.
Ira's eyes widened in pure horror.
"No—no please—don't!"
Ira scrambled to her knees. Her torn shirt hung in useless flaps. She fumbled with shaking fingers, managing to drag some surviving buttons closed—barely enough to cover her nipples and the upper swell of her breasts. It wasn't modesty anymore; it was survival.
Clutching the torn edges together, she burst out of the bathroom and sprinted down the corridor— barefoot, hair wild, tears streaming, past startled students, past open classroom doors, not stopping until she reached the balcony.
----
Inside the teacher's room.
Kai nodded once.
"Good. We'll be watching."
They turned and left.
The teachers remained frozen long after the door closed — some crying silently, some staring at nothing, all knowing the school had become a cage.
---
The seven Krossvale brothers had just crossed the central courtyard, heading toward the front gate.
Sophia reached the second-floor balcony railing, leaned over, and flung the red bra downward.
It fluttered through the air like a blood-colored flag — it landed lightly on the back of Kai's shoulder, the soft lace brushing his neck.
Ira reached the railing just in time to see the bra reach the Krossvales.
Her soul seemed to leave her body.
She ran away.
The brothers froze mid-step.
Ren noticed the bra first.
"Kai," he said quietly, almost amused. "There's a bra on your shoulder."
Kai stopped dead.
His head turned very slowly.
Leon reached up and plucked the bra from Kai's coat. The red fabric dangled from his fingers.
"Woah," Leon said, voice low and dark. "A girl just dared to throw her bra at us."
Victor let out a low, filthy laugh.
"How fucking interesting."
Vernon stared at the bra in Leon's hand. His sharp gaze lingered on the delicate lace, the faint warmth still clinging to it. Something stirred inside him — unfamiliar, unsettling. He didn't know why it felt… special. Personal. Like it belonged to someone very important.
Damon smirked.
"This is the first time anyone's ever done that. Aren't she scared we might fuck her?"
Ren laughed hard,
" Maybe she wants that."
Lucas grinned wide, golden tooth flashing.
"Maybe she wants us to fuck her very hard. Throwing lingerie like that? That's an invitation in my dictionary."
Victor tilted his head, eyes gleaming.
" She's either suicidal or begging for it."
Leon clutched it tighter, rubbing the fabric between thumb and forefinger.
"It's so soft," he murmured. Then he brought it to his face and inhaled deeply.
"Smells nice," he said, voice thick.
Kai still hasn't moved.
He reached out slowly and took the bra from Leon.
The red fabric was soft, slightly damp from sweat or tears. He held it between thumb and forefinger, staring at it for a long, silent moment.
Raw desire flickered in his eyes — sharp, sudden, almost violent. Something hot and possessive coiled low in his gut.
He brought it closer, inhaling subtly.
The scent clinging to the satin lace — feminine warmth — hit him like a drug.
The brothers watched him.
Ren raised an eyebrow. "Smells nice?"
Kai didn't answer.
Leon chuckled. "Whose do you think it is?"
Damon smirked. "How about we go classroom to classroom and ask? "
Ren laughed. "Dude, you really think anyone's gonna admit it?"
Damon shrugged. "We could strip them all. Line them up. See whose tits are bare."
Another wave of low, nasty laughter rolled through the group.
Leon: "Imagine the scene. Fresh meat everywhere."
Lucas: "I'm getting hard just thinking about it."
Victor laughed. "Yeah, but she could be wearing one underneath and threw this one just to fuck with us."
Leon: "Or… what if she isn't wearing any?"
A new wave of filthy, low laughter rolled through them.
Kai finally spoke — voice quiet, deadly calm.
"We'll find out."
To be continued....