The clock on my phone read 12:57 AM when I heard the soft scrape at the service gate below.

My room was pitch dark except for the faint blue glow from the charger light. I hadn’t slept. I hadn’t even tried. The maroon lace set still clung to my skin—bra cups damp from earlier nerves, thong soaked through from the constant throb between my legs. Every few minutes I’d clench around nothing, remembering the toy, remembering his voice commanding me from below.