Some of the fog had faded, just enough that Colleen was vaguely proud of herself for reducing this enormous man to trembling from what she’d done to him.
Twist shook his head and straightened. Pushing lightly on her shoulder as he removed the condom, knotted it, and dropped it in a small trash can she hadn’t noticed behind the chair before zipping up his pants. He said, “Such a good girl.”
“I’m not,” she said.
The silvery mask turned back to stare at her, and Colleen imagined that Twist must be raising an eyebrow behind it.
She said, “I’m not a good girl. And I know that term is supposed to be ironic and degrading—”
“No, it’s meant to make you feel cherished.”
“Why should I feel cherished? The real world doesn’t cherish you.”
“This isn’t the real world, and your partner should.”
“I don’t have a partner. I don’t want someone else to pretend to cherish me or whatever you call it and then break the hell out of my heart.”
“They shouldn’t do that, either.”
“Sure, they should. Maybe I’m a bitch, Twist. Maybe I’m a psychopath. Maybe I wouldn’t know what to do if someone loved me. Maybe I hurt people on purpose. Maybe I break things just to see them break. Maybe I rebelled and made-believe things were worse than they were. Maybe I make them walk away from me. Maybe I’m a drama queen. Maybe I shouldn’t be the way that I am and then someone would love me, but I’m not and I don’t know how to do that.”
“QueenMod, princess—”
“I’m not a good girl. I’ve never been a good girl. Since I was five, I assure you, I have never been a good girl. Just ask my parents. When you were spanking me, that was what I needed. I felt alive. I wasn’t numb from my soul to my skin anymore. That’s what someone should do to me until I am a good girl.”
“I’m not a sadist,” Twist said.
“You said you break brats, so break me. Break whatever the hell is wrong with me so I can fix it. Just do it!”
“That’s not how this game works.”
“I just said all these words I’m not supposed to. You spanked me last time when I just forgot what I was supposed to say. I’m doing it on purpose. Isn’t that worse? So do something worse to me.”
He asked, “What did you mean about being numb?”
“I just am. I stub my toe, and I think, well, that’s just another fucking thing. Something horrible happens on the news, and I think, yeah, the world is a piece of shit and has terrible people in it. Someone says they hate me and I’ve never been what they wanted, and I think, yeah, well, I’ve never been what I wanted, either.”
Twist didn’t move after she finished talking. He sat on his chair like he was judging her behind that gleaming mask, and then he reached up with his hand, holding her cheek in his palm. He ran his thumb over her cheekbone, and he sighed before he said quietly, “I told you that the next time you disobeyed me, the punishment would be harsher.”
Colleen nodded. Of course, it would be. Yes.
“To your left, there is a large, metal frame like a steel rectangle bolted into the floor. Walk over there, take hold of the sides, and hang on. As you are standing in front of it, spread your legs.”
Colleen struggled up off the floor and felt her way over toward the steel contraption in the dark, dragging her toes to feel her way and avoid any unseen obstacles. Other mechanism-looking thingies also jutted corners or stirrups out of the darkness, and she didn’t want to—
Her leg smacked something, and a metallic clatter shattered the quiet of the room.
Panic flashed through her. “Oh, my God. I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to do that. It was an accident!” She scrambled after the sticks that had fallen out of some sort of metal can. “I can pick them up! Don’t get up. I got this. It’s no problem. I’m such a klutz. If there is something in the room, I will knock it over. I’m just a dumbass when it comes to anything like this.” Her fingertips brushed skinny sticks on the floor that skittered away from her touch. “I’m so sorry. I swear to God, I’m such a nitwit. I’m just a stupid idiot who can’t be trusted with anything, not even to walk across the room without destroying something. I’m stupid and careless, and I didn’t mean to do it.”
“Stop,” Twist said.
“Oh, no. I’m the dimwit who knocked it over, so I’ll clean it up. I’m really sorry. I’m just such a clod. I always do dumbshit things like this. I’m just too pig-ignorant to pay attention to where I’m walking or what I’m doing.”
A vice-like grip wrapped her wrist and spun her around. The bright shape of his mask stared her down, though the eyeholes seemed to be empty shadows. “I said, stop.”
She flipped her other hand at the unseen sticks on the dark floor. “Oh, but I’ll just—”
“Stop talking about yourself that way.”
