The taunts and insults from everyone at the party were completely unfiltered, every foul word imaginable was thrown my way.
I did my best to block out their voices.
Jim ordered me to pour him a drink, and I obediently did as he asked.
He told me to sing a song to entertain the crowd, and I went up on stage.
He then made me down several shots of whiskey, and even though it made me sick, I forced myself to drink.
Then, some of our old college classmates started jeering, saying they’d always noticed I had a nice figure, but I often wore loose, casual clothes, so they’d never gotten a good look at me.
They smirked and laughed. “Jim, any chance you could let us catch a glimpse of that tiny waist tonight?”
My grip tightened around the glass in my hand.
I’d tolerated their filthy words up until now, but to not even have control over my own body?
I looked over at Jim, who was lounging lazily on the leather sofa, one leg crossed over the other. His long fingers held a cigarette, the smoke curling around his face, making his features appear blurred.
I could barely make out his cold eyes as they glanced at me, giving me a command: “What are you waiting for? Take it off.”