I wake up in a cold sweat, bolting upright in the bed as I look around the room in panic.

Something isn’t right.

The first rays of dawn filters through the yellowed blinds, telling me it’s morning. I take another sweep across the room, noting the small desk in the corner, the wardrobe lying against the opposite wall, the air-con above it still blowing cold air into the room.

Nothing.

Must’ve been another bad dream.

I shrug, and lie back down. I grab the blanket, pulling it higher up until it rests underneath my chin. Then I turn onto my side, facing the room, my one arm lying underneath my head.

Perfect.

I feel myself drifting slowly off to sleep, my mind wandering as I reach that semi-awake stage just before sleep. I think about the past a bit.

And about Robin.

I picture her in my mind. Her shoulder-length black hair. Her slender neck. Her long legs. The way she would always tuck her hair behind her left ear.

I picture us together again. Happy, but tentative, knowing that we couldn’t last but trying our best anyways. For a minute, it feels like I’m back with her.

I feel her arm wrap around my waist, from the back. It feels…

Different.

I frown, trying to figure it out. I cuddled with her hundreds of times, and this doesn’t feel like those times. How could my brain get this feeling wrong, but know that it’s wrong? Are brains self-aware of their own mistakes? Has it just been so long that I’ve forgotten what it feels like, and my brains trying to connect the dots itself?

That’s when I hear a sigh coming from behind me.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

A very, very real sigh.

I jump out of bed as quickly as I can, adrenaline pumping as I realize there’s an intruder in the room. In my bed. I fall to the floor, the blanket tangling my legs. I pull them off, revealing the intruder underneath.

She wakes, and lets out a yawn, her rubber hand lifting up to the mouth hole of her latex mask. Her long, blonde hair tied into a pony, poking through a hole in the top of the mask. She rubs her blue eyes, blinks them a few times, and looks up at me.

It’s Gimp girl.

“Spike! Spike, we have a code blue! Code blue, Spike!” I scream, backing towards the door. I hear Spike’s heavy footsteps furiously coming towards my door. He pulls it open, stepping inside, his massive frame taking up the doorway.

“Hey, whoa, whoa. Calm down. The fuck’s a code blue?” He asks, looking at me.

I point to Gimp girl, her eyes wide and darting between Spike and I.

He looks at her, and I see surprise on his face. Followed by dismay. He rubs his face, shaking his head.

“Fuck sakes, Jack, I told you not to bring any girls around when we’re on a mission! It’s a risk we don’t needa take! Kick her out, after you let her get decent. I don’t care what kinda fetishes you have, Jack, but it’s cruel to make her wear that all night. Poor thing must be dying of heat.”

He turns and walks out the door, closing it behind him. I can hear him muttering to himself as he walks back to his own room.

I stare at the door in shock. Bastard left me, in my time of need! I turn back to Gimp girl, in time to see her crawl off the bed towards me on all fours, her hips swaying as she makes her way closer towards me, every curve accented by the tight leather.

I back up as far as I can to the door, the fear and adrenaline coursing through my veins turning my legs to jelly. I try fumble for the doorknob, my shaky hands unable to grip it.

This is a nightmare. This must be a nightmare. I’ll just close my eyes, and when I open them again, I’ll be back in the bed alone.

I close my eyes, and wait. Chanting over and over in my head that this is just some bad dream.

The sounds of her crawling stops.

I listen out, trying to hear her.

Nothing but the singing of the birds outside.

I let out my breath, I didn’t even realize that I was holding it. I let out a short chuckle and shake my head. My dreams are becoming crazy real these days, it seems. Though I should’ve realized it was just a dream, I mean really, a gimp girl somehow breaking into my room, sleeping in my bed, without any of us realizing? That’s just ridiculous.

Feeling better, I open my eyes.

Gimp girl is right in front of my face, leaning forward. Her big, blue eyes staring into mine.

I scream, my fear taking over. I let out the most blood-curdling, ear-shattering scream I can. I can’t stop myself. My body pushes itself as close to the door as it can, my fight or flight response choosing flight against my will. I hear Spike running towards my door again, he swings it open and I fall backwards, the resistance finally gone. I scramble into the small living room, ducking behind the dark blue couch.

After hiding for a second or two, I realize I’m still screaming. I close my mouth, cutting off the noise.

I glance over the couch and see Spike standing in the doorway, turned towards me. He’s shaking his head, his face in his hand. Behind him, I see Gimp girl on all fours, leaning around Spike’s legs so she can see me. She gives me a wave, the rubber of her suit squeaking as her slender arm moves back and forward.

“Jack, mind telling me what the fuck is going on?”, Spike asks.

I keep my eyes locked on Gimp girl. She leans back and sits on her legs, her curvy, black frame shining in the morning light. I feel a shiver run down my spine.

“I love you.” She says timidly.

Spike lets out a groan.

“Jack, what did you do?”