Anjali woke up earlier than usual the next morning. Her body still carried the memory of the previous day — the five men in the conference room, the repeated filling of her pussy, the taste of cum that had lingered in her mouth even after brushing her teeth twice. She lay in bed for a few minutes, staring at the ceiling, before forcing herself to get up.

In the bathroom mirror she examined herself again. There were fresh fingerprints on her breasts and a faint bruise on her left hip where someone had gripped her too hard. Her pussy felt swollen and sensitive when she touched it. She showered carefully, dried her body, and stood in front of her cupboard for a long time.