She is introduced.

The classroom door swung wide open, and Sabrina felt every gaze pierce her like needles. The constant murmur of the class was cut off instantly, replaced by a heavy silence charged with surprise. For an eternal instant, only the buzzing of the fluorescent lights could be heard.

Then, the outburst.

A choked gasp from a girl, a clear and forceful "holy shit!" from one of the boys in the back, and then, a wave of murmurs and incredulous laughter. Sabrina remained in the doorway, paralyzed, the transparent tunic clinging to her body, feeling the blush burn all over her skin. She tried to cross her arms over her chest, but a firm look from Mr. Andrews, who was right behind her, stopped her. She had to exhibit herself.

"—Good morning, class," the professor announced with a calm that was obscene. "As you can see, today we have a very special helper to illustrate our lesson on Roman society. Sabrina has been kind enough to volunteer as a model to show the female attire of the period."

A new buzz ran through the room. Sabrina lowered her gaze to the floor, but couldn't help seeing the faces: some were distorted by disbelief, others showed poorly disguised mockery, and a few, especially some boys, were looking at her with an intensity that made her feel even more naked.

Then, she saw the glint. The reflection of light on a mobile screen. Then another, and another. A boy in the back brazenly raised his phone, and the blinding flash briefly illuminated her translucent figure. The click of the camera sounded like a gunshot.

"—Hey, no photos!" Mr. Andrews said, raising his voice, but with a tone that lacked real authority. "Put your phones away, right now. This is an academic lesson, not a spectacle."

The order was lukewarm, almost a wink. He didn't confiscate any mobiles, nor did he threaten consequences. It was a reprimand to save appearances, and everyone in the class knew it. The laughter was stifled, but the murmurs continued, and Sabrina knew, with absolute certainty, that the photos were already being shared in chat groups. Her image, her humiliation, was multiplying digitally, becoming eternalized beyond the four walls of the classroom.

"—Sabrina, please stand in the center," the professor instructed, pointing to a clear space in front of the blackboard.

Every step she took was ****. The fabric, so thin, moved with her, caressing and revealing every inch of her anatomy. She felt the gazes moving over her legs, her stomach, her breasts. A cold sweat covered the back of her neck.

"—Notice the simplicity of the line," Mr. Andrews continued, using a pointer to indicate, without touching, Sabrina's shoulder. "The female stola, although normally made of opaque linen, sought to enhance the figure. Sabrina allows us to appreciate... the natural elegance of the body it was meant to cover."

The professor's voice was a distant hum. Sabrina's world had narrowed to the heat of the stares, the echo of stifled laughter, and the tearing consciousness that, beneath the thin layer of silk, there was nothing to protect her. She was completely exposed, turned into an object of study, mockery, and lust, while the man who held power over her future disguised his perversion as a history lesson.