**Chapter 15: Exposed**

"Hey, baby, show us your tits!" a slurred voice shouted from the crowd, the words echoing through the dimly lit room like a cruel taunt. Leyley's eyes scanned the sea of faces, her skin crawling with unease as she tried to focus on the music and the movement of her body. But it was no use. The audience was relentless, their voices and hands reaching out to her like a physical force. As she danced, the catcalls and whistles grew louder, a cacophony of lewd comments and objectifying remarks that seemed to pierce her very soul. "Yeah, shake that ass for us!" someone yelled, followed by a chorus of whoops and hollers. Leyley's face burned with shame and anger, but she forced herself to keep moving, to keep dancing. A drunken patron stumbled to his feet, his eyes fixed on Leyley with a leering gaze. "Hey, look at that! She's got a nice rack!" he slurred, his voice dripping with entitlement. His friends cheered and high-fived him, and Leyley felt a surge of revulsion. The music pulsed through her body, but Leyley's movements began to feel stiff and robotic. She was trapped in a nightmare, with no escape from the cruel words and grasping hands. A bony hand reached out from the crowd, and Leyley felt a jolt of fear as it closed around her ankle. She tried to pull away, but the grip was tight, and the man holding her seemed to be pulling her down, towards him. Andy's voice echoed through the room once again, a low, menacing tone that seemed to vibrate through every cell of Leyley's being. "Let her go," he said, his words dripping with a sadistic pleasure. "She's mine, and you know it." The hand released her ankle, and Leyley breathed a sigh of relief. But she knew she wasn't safe, not yet. She had to keep dancing, had to keep Andy happy. As she moved through the music, her body swaying and her eyes flashing with defiance, she knew she would do whatever it took to survive. The crowd seemed to grow more aggressive, their taunts and catcalls escalating into a frenzy of lewd comments and obscenities. Leyley's ears rang with the filth, her mind reeling with the sheer brutality of it all. She felt like she was drowning in a sea of depravity, with no lifeline in sight. And then, just as she thought it couldn't get any worse, a voice pierced the din, a voice that made Leyley's blood run cold. "Yeah, Andy, make her suck your cock!" someone shouted, the words echoing through the room like a cruel taunt. Leyley's eyes locked onto Andy's, and for a moment, she saw a flicker of excitement in his gaze. He was enjoying this, enjoying her pain and humiliation. And Leyley knew she had to keep dancing, had to keep playing the role of the submissive slave.