The next night midnight,

Midnight. The hour witches whispered to stars. The lonely girls did foolish things. Mrunal sat in the dim glow of her bedroom, bathed in silver moonlight filtering through the curtains. Her laptop waited, open, daring her. Her body thrummed with nerves she didn’t know how to name.

Was she really going through with this? With him? Her hands hovered over the keyboard as the clock flipped: 12:00 a.m. The screen blinked.

SinEater is online. Her breath hitched. Before she could type a single word—

SinEater [12:00 a.m.]: Strip.

Mrunal’s eyes widened. She blinked at the screen, heart hammering.

DarkMuse [12:01 a.m.]: You’re not even going to say hello?

SinEater [12:01 a.m.]: No. You don’t get “hello” tonight. Not after last night.

She felt the command slither down her spine. God, why did it make her thighs clench?

DarkMuse [12:02 a.m.]: I said I was sorry.

SinEater [12:03 a.m.]: Sorry isn’t enough. Now be a good girl and do what I say. Start with your top. Tell me what you’re wearing.

Her hands trembled as she typed.

DarkMuse [12:04 a.m.]: A black nightie. Old. Barely decent. Thin straps. No bra.

There was a long pause. Then:

SinEater [12:05 a.m.]: Touch yourself. But don’t finish. Not until I say so. I want to hear you scream when you come. Record it. Send it to me.

Her pulse spiked, the words searing straight through her. Record it? Every moan, every gasp—his to own? The thought made her thighs clench, her body betraying her hesitation.

DarkMuse [12:06 a.m.]: You’re insane.

SinEater [12:07 a.m.]: And yet you’re wet. I can feel it from here. Your hand trembling. Your body desperate. Don’t lie to me, Muse. You ache for me.

Her breath shuddered as she slid her fingers lower, brushing against her slick folds. A low moan escaped her, half shame, half ecstasy. She fumbled with her phone, hitting record, the tiny red light burning like a confession.

DarkMuse [12:08 a.m.]: What if I tease you instead? What if I make you hear every sound… but never let you have me?

Her voice was husky, wicked even as her fingers circled her clit slowly, deliberately. She angled the phone closer, letting the microphone capture the wet sounds of her arousal, the ragged catches of her breath.

SinEater [12:09 a.m.]: Don’t test me. You’ll regret it.

DarkMuse [12:09 a.m.]: Oh? What will you do while you listen to me fall apart? Will you fist your cock to my voice? Will you close your eyes and imagine it’s my mouth?

Her dirty words spilled before she could stop them, emboldened by lust. She dipped two fingers inside herself, arching against the sheets, moaning loudly on purpose so the recording picked up every filthy sound.

DarkMuse [12:10 a.m.]: God, I’m so tight… so wet… If you were here, you’d tear me open. Ruin me. Is that what you want to hear, SinEater? Me begging for your cock while I fuck myself with my fingers?

She groaned, her hips rolling, her body rocking against her own hand. The teasing was as much for her as it was for him—her control hanging by a thread.

SinEater [12:10 a.m.]: Say my name when you come. Loud. I want your neighbors to know who you belong to. And send me the proof.

Her climax built sharp and merciless. She pressed the phone to her lips, moaning into it as her fingers worked faster, her body shaking with desperation. The wet sounds, the broken cries, the way his name ripped from her throat—everything captured.

When it hit, it was brutal, tearing through her like fire. She screamed, her voice breaking, shuddering around her own fingers as the orgasm claimed her. The recording caught it all—the ragged gasps, the helpless sob of his name, the whimpers as aftershocks rolled through her body.

Collapsed against the sheets, she stopped the recording with trembling hands. Her skin burned, her chest heaved, her thighs glistened with the evidence of her release.

And then, without hesitation, she sent it.
Sent him her ruin.
Sent him the sound of her surrender.

Then it was gone—fired into the abyss of him.
The chat window blinked, silent, suffocating. Every second stretched, her body still trembling, slick between her thighs, her skin humming from the aftershocks.

What if he didn’t reply? What if he listened and vanished, leaving her wrecked and ashamed? The screen lit up.

SinEater [12:16 a.m.]: I’m listening. Over and over. Your moans are mine now. Do you know what I’m doing while I hear you break for me?

Her stomach twisted, heat flooding lower. She pressed her knees together, too raw, too sensitive—and yet, the hunger flared again.

DarkMuse [12:17 a.m.]: What?

Her fingers trembled as she typed.

SinEater [12:17 a.m.]: Stroking my cock to the sound of your voice. Slow. Relentless. Each whimper makes me harder. Each cry of my name makes me want to split you open.

Her breath hitched. Shame and desire collided, making her whole body burn. She imagined him, alone in some dark room, her voice in his ear, his hand moving because of her.

SinEater [12:18 a.m.]: Do you realize what you’ve done, Muse? You’ve given me your ruin to keep. I’ll use it. Again. Again. Until the day I bury myself inside you and make you scream louder than that recording.

Her thighs clenched, an involuntary whimper slipping past her lips. She bit down hard, trying to stifle the sound.

DarkMuse [12:19 a.m.]: You’re insane. Dangerous.

SinEater [12:19 a.m.]: And you’re wet again. Touch yourself. Don’t lie. You’re soaked just from knowing I’m using your voice to get off.

Her hand drifted lower without her consent, fingertips brushing over her already tender clit, and she gasped. God, he was right. She was wet. Aching. Again.

Her phone vibrated with another message.

SinEater [12:20 a.m.]: Here’s your next order, Muse. I don’t just want your voice. Next time—I want to see you. Spread for me. Fingers inside. Camera on.

Her whole body jolted. Her breath turned shallow, panicked, aroused. The idea horrified her. The idea thrilled her.

She dropped the phone onto her chest, staring at the ceiling in the darkness, her pulse wild, her body still betraying her with every shudder.

She’d sent him her moans.
And he wasn’t satisfied.
He wanted all of her.

The next midnight,

Midnight came too slow.

Mrunal had tried everything—an extra episode of her favorite K-drama, a long bath scented with lavender, even pulling an old romance novel from her shelf—but nothing worked. Her skin still remembered the night before, every word, every filthy command etched under her flesh like a bruise that refused to fade. Her body hummed with anticipation she couldn’t name out loud.

She didn’t dare say it, not even to herself, but she had begun to crave him.
Not his voice. Not his face. She had neither.
She craved his words. The heat. The command. The way he stripped her bare with nothing but text, like he could see her even in the dark.

12:00 a.m.
She was already logged in.

SinEater is online.

Her heart stuttered. Fingers twitched above the keys.

SinEater [12:01 a.m.]: You made me wait.

DarkMuse [12:01 a.m.]: It was one minute.

SinEater [12:02 a.m.]: One minute too long. I don’t like to wait for what’s mine.

Her breath hitched. She froze, staring at the screen. Tonight was different. There wasn’t just lust in his words—it was possession. Ownership.

DarkMuse [12:03 a.m.]: Yours?

SinEater [12:03 a.m.]: Don’t pretend you don’t feel it too. That ache under your skin. That hunger you never knew before me. You belong to me in the dark.

Her throat tightened, heat blooming in her chest.

DarkMuse [12:04 a.m.]: What if I don’t want to belong to anyone?

SinEater [12:04 a.m.]: Then stop logging in. Stop waiting for me at midnight like a sinner craving confession.

Her hands trembled. She didn’t type. Couldn’t. Because he was right—and she hated how right he was.

SinEater [12:05 a.m.]: Who was the last person who kissed you?

Her chest constricted. Aarav. The name scraped like old glass.

DarkMuse [12:06 a.m.]: Aarav…my ex. Months ago.

SinEater [12:06 a.m.]: Did he ever touch you like he meant it?

Her pulse stumbled. She thought of Aarav’s hesitant hands, his distracted kisses, the way he looked at her as though loving her was a secret shame.

DarkMuse [12:07 a.m.]: No. He said he loved me. But it always felt like… he was afraid of something.

The pause was long. Heavy. She wondered if he had gone. Then his words appeared, sharp as a blade.

SinEater [12:08 a.m.]: I’m not afraid of you, DarkMuse. I dream of ruining you.

Her breath caught.

SinEater [12:08 a.m.]: If you were mine in daylight… the world would know it. You wouldn’t hide behind baggy clothes and shy smiles. You’d walk like a woman who is worshipped at night. And everyone would wonder why your lips are swollen and your eyes too dazed to fake a smile.

Her body flushed hot, every vein sparking. Her fingers shook against the keyboard.

DarkMuse [12:09 a.m.]: You say things that scare me. But I keep coming back. Why?

SinEater [12:09 a.m.]: Because no one has ever wanted you this completely before. And now you know what it feels like to be craved.

Her vision blurred, the truth of it slicing her open. She had no reply. She didn’t need one.

SinEater [12:10 a.m.]: Tomorrow night. No more hiding. Tell me your darkest fantasy. Or I’ll tell you mine, and you won’t sleep for days.

And just like that, he was gone.

The screen went dark, but her body didn’t calm. She lay back against her pillows, staring at the ceiling, heart pounding so hard it hurt. Tomorrow. He was going to drag more out of her, strip away more layers she hadn’t shown anyone.

And the terrifying truth?
She wanted him to.