NO!

You grip the bundle of humiliating clothes in your hand, heart pounding, adrenaline surging through your veins. The girls’ mocking smiles, their towering presence, and the degrading situation overwhelm your senses. You can’t take it anymore. You’ve had enough. Without another word, you spin on your heel, determined to leave the house, your head held high.

But as you turn to storm off, something catches your foot—a sudden, deliberate movement, quick and precise. Your body lurches forward before you even have time to react, and suddenly you’re falling.

*Hard.*

Your hands flail, trying to catch yourself, but the slippery marble floor offers no grip. You crash face-first onto the cold ground with a humiliating thud, the towel slipping from your waist as the breath is knocked out of you. Laughter erupts from behind you—sharp, mocking laughter that rings in your ears like a cruel reminder of your place here.

Looking up, you see Brooke retracting her leg, having deliberately tripped you. Her thick white sneakers gleam under the light as she steps back, barely containing her amusement. “Oops,” she says, her voice dripping with false innocence. “Did I do that?”

Ashley bursts out laughing, her bare feet now right next to your face as you lie sprawled on the ground. “Oh my God, did you see that?” she snickers, clapping her hands. “You looked so pathetic!” Her toes tap teasingly on the marble, and you’re suddenly painfully aware of how low you are—literally at her feet, with no escape.

“Guess that plan didn’t work out so well, huh?” Claire adds, stepping over you, her heeled boots clicking with each step. She crouches down, her cold blue eyes locking with yours as she smirks. “Where do you think you’re going, little guy? You’re not getting out of this that easily.”

Before you can scramble up, Brooke is already on you, her strong hands grabbing you by the shoulders and pinning you down. “Not so fast,” she murmurs, her breath warm against your ear as she leans in, her grip tightening. You squirm beneath her, but she’s taller and stronger than you, her body easily keeping you in place.

Ashley crouches down in front of you, still laughing as she holds up the pink crop top and miniskirt they’d thrown at you earlier. “Looks like someone needs some help getting dressed,” she teases, her eyes gleaming with cruelty. “Don’t worry, we’ve got you.”

You try to resist, try to push Brooke off, but it’s hopeless. She presses down harder, her sneakers digging into the floor next to your legs, effortlessly keeping you pinned. “Oh, stop struggling. It’s adorable how you think you can fight us, but seriously, just accept it,” Brooke says, her voice dripping with mockery.

Claire moves to your side, towering over you in her heeled boots. She plants one foot near your head, the polished leather of her boot gleaming as she looks down with a cruel smile. “It’ll be so much easier if you just go along with it,” she says, nudging you lightly with her boot. “Or do you need another lesson?”

Ashley pulls your arms roughly from under you and starts forcing the pink crop top over your head. You try to yank your arms back, but Brooke’s weight on you makes it impossible. “Stop squirming, loser,” Ashley hisses, her fingers digging into your skin as she pulls the tight fabric down over your chest.

The fabric clings embarrassingly to your torso, the bright pink color and tight fit only adding to your humiliation. Ashley stands up, surveying her work with a grin, then tosses the miniskirt at Claire. “Here, you do the honors.”

Claire kneels down, still smirking, and yanks the towel away completely, leaving you completely exposed for a humiliating second before she forces the skirt over your legs. You try to kick, to push her away, but her grip is firm, her boots pressing into the floor with a solid click as she easily wrestles you into submission. She pulls the skirt up over your hips, the tight material barely fitting as she zips it up with a sharp *snap*.

“There,” Claire says, standing up and wiping her hands off like she’s just completed a chore. “Perfect fit.”

You lie there, panting from the effort of struggling, but it’s no use. You’re fully dressed now, humiliated in the tight, revealing outfit they’ve **** on you, every movement you make only making the clothes feel tighter and more degrading.

Ashley, Brooke, and Claire all stand over you, watching with cruel satisfaction as you try to gather what’s left of your dignity. Brooke lifts one foot, her chunky sneaker hovering just over your face, before letting it rest on your shoulder lightly, pressing down just enough to remind you of your place beneath them. “See, wasn’t that easier?” she says, grinning as she leans her weight onto you.

Ashley crosses her arms, her bare toes tapping idly on the marble floor, a satisfied smirk on her lips. “I told you it would be fun,” she says, glancing at her friends. “And now… you’re *exactly* where you belong, Tom. At our feet.”

You grit your teeth, but there’s nothing you can do. They’ve won, and they know it.

And the worst part? They’re only getting started.