The room fills with lewd chuckles as you sit down, trying to cover yourself as much as possible. Your heart is hammering in your chest, your mind racing with thoughts of escape, but you know there's no way out of this. Not now. Not when you're in the lion's den, surrounded by men who clearly see you as nothing more than a plaything. Ansh walks around the room, his footsteps echoing on the hardwood floor, as he tells stories of your past, twisting them into perverted tales that make the men laugh even harder. You shrink into the chair, feeling your dignity slip away with every word he says, your face hot with humiliation.

One of the men, a balding, overweight slob with a gold chain around his neck, leans in closer, his breath reeking of alcohol. "Is it true what your brother says?" he slurs, his eyes glued to your chest, "That you're as tight as a fucking fist?" Ansh grins, sipping his whiskey. "Why don't you find out for yourself?" He says, his voice a challenge. The man licks his lips, his eyes lighting up with excitement as he stands, his pants already tenting.