Clara had been told only a little about what to expect. A friend told her about it over too many drinks. She said it was a secret party where women didn’t just dance, they were used. A limo would pick her up, no questions were being asked. Inside, there would be men she wouldn’t know, men who wouldn’t tell her their names. The rule was simple no names, no strings. Just to obey them.

Her friend had laughed when she first explained it, but the heat in her eyes said it wasn’t a joke. It’s dangerous, it’s dirty, but it’s the best night you’ll ever have. If you can handle it.

Clara had hesitated for days but curiosity burned hotter than fear. She was single, restless, bored of polite dates that ended with quick kisses at her door. The thought of being used really used, the way her friend hinted kept her awake at night with her fingers buried between her thighs.

When the black limousine rolled up to the curb, her stomach flipped. She wore a short dress that clung to her thick thighs and wide hips her full bréasts pushed up tight under the fabric. Clara had always been round, soft in all the places men stared at and she knew that was exactly why she’d been chosen.

The driver didn’t ask her name he just opened the door and waited for her to get in.

She slid inside the leather cool under the back of her thighs. Two men in dark suits sat across from her. Their eyes moved over her body slowly, steady and unashamed. There was no pleasantries of any such or did they as much as smile at her. Just taking her in.

The door shut, the car started moving, and the silence made her shift nervously. Her dress rode higher up her thighs, the straps of her heels digging into her skin. She tried to sit straighter but the way their gazes stayed locked on her curves made her cheeks burn.

“You came here knowing what this is,” the man on the left said at last. His voice was calm but sharp, the kind that didn’t need to be raised.

Clara licked her lips, then nodded. “Yes.”

“Say it properly.”

“Yes, Sir.”

The second man leaned forward slightly, his eyes dropping to her breasts that strained against the dress. “Good girl. You’re going to follow instructions. Exactly as we give them.”

She swallowed hard, the heat already gathering between her thighs. “Yes, Sir.”

The first man reached into his pocket and pulled out a strip of black fabric. He held it out. “Blindfold.”

Clara’s heart skipped, but she took it with both hands. Slowly, she tied it over her eyes until the world went dark. The hum of the engine grew louder. Their breathing grew heavier.

“Now sit up,” the man said. “Shoulders back. Hands behind you. Push your chest forward.”

Clara obeyed. Her hands laced together behind her, breasts thrust out, nipples already hard against the fabric. She couldn’t see their faces but she could feel the way they were staring at her body at the way her curves filled the small space.

“Better, I like what I see” one of them said, voice low. “This is going to be fun.”