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Chapter 12 by brawlers brawlers

How does the class end?

Further Explanation

The pointer lingered on her collarbone, its red dot pulsing like a heartbeat. Mr. Andrews cleared his throat, his voice smooth with academic detachment.

"Now, observe the natural consequence of dominica potestas—public discipline." His fingers tapped the desk, summoning the class's attention away from the screen. "Sabrina, step forward."

Her legs trembled, but she obeyed, the torn silk whispering against her thighs. The air-conditioning hummed, raising goosebumps on her exposed skin.

"Raise your arms again," he instructed. "Higher."

Sabrina's hands fluttered upward in trembling obedience, but this time her fingers clutched the ruined edges of the silk, pulling the tattered fabric across her chest in a futile attempt at modesty. The movement made the second tear gape wider, exposing the delicate hollow beneath her ribs where her pulse fluttered like a trapped bird.

"Interesting," Mr. Andrews mused, tapping the pointer against his palm. "Note the instinctive gesture of concealment—a defiance of historical accuracy. In Rome, a **** could be stripped entirely for correction." His gaze flicked to Javier, who was already raising his phone again. "Document this resistance. The tension between modern dignity and ancient truth is educational."

Without further ado, Mr. Andrews reached out and tore the remaining fabric of Sabrina's tunic, leaving her completely naked. She gasped, her body flushing with shame as she stood before the class, exposed and ****.

"Now, Sabrina," Mr. Andrews said, his voice calm and authoritative. "lean back with arm on the desk and Spread your legs wider."

She hesitated for a moment, but then obeyed, leaning back against the desk with her right hand on the surface and spreading her legs wider apart. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she could feel the warmth of embarrassment spreading across her body.

Mr. Andrews circled around her, his eyes raking over every inch of her exposed skin. "Excellent," he murmured, his voice low and appreciative. "Now, class, observe the perfection of the female form."

How does the class go now?

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