The dim, pulsating red glow of the room bathes the air in a sultry, sensual atmosphere. The heavy bass of the music thumps in sync with the dancer's heartbeat, the rhythm guiding her sinuous movements on stage. Her body flows like liquid silk, every curve and contour accentuated by the pulsing lights. The crowd watches, transfixed, as she loses herself in the music, her dance becoming a sensual ritual.

Among the crowd, two figures stand out - Satoru and Sukuna. They lounge in their usual VIP booth, eyes fixed on the dancer with predatory intensity. Their gazes are hungry, devouring every inch of her exposed skin as she writhes and gyrates on stage. She can feel their eyes on her, a tangible weight that sends shivers down her spine despite the heat of the moment.

She has danced for them many times before, but tonight feels different. There's an electric charge in the air, a thick tension that crackles with barely contained desire. As she spins and twirls, she can see the bulges in their pants, the evidence of their arousal. Her own body responds in kind, a pleasant ache building between her thighs.

Finishing her routine to thunderous applause, she steps off the stage, catching her breath. She feels them approach from behind, large hands gripping her waist and spinning her around. It's Satoru, his piercing blue eyes locking with hers as a wicked grin spreads across his face. "Hey, Sweets," he purrs, his voice low and husky. His hands slide down to rest on the swell of her hips, thumbs rubbing circles into her tender flesh.

"Did you get our memo?" he asks, pressing his body against hers. His lips crash onto hers in a bruising kiss, tongue delving deep to claim her mouth. She can taste the whiskey on his breath, feel the hard planes of his body pressing insistently against her soft curves. Before breaking the kiss, Satoru slides a pill towards the back of her mouth, watching intently as she swallows. A knowing smirk plays on his lips before he pulls away, chuckling darkly.