“For free?” North said. “You’re a generous guy. Must take a lot of time out of your day, making sure these people are pissing into diapers and keep their assholes shaved and are getting their nipples pierced and chained. A guy doing all that stuff might not have time to make a living.”

Brueckmann flushed, and his head snapped up, and for a moment, Shaw saw the man they had seen when they had walked into the office the first time: a man who took pleasure from controlling, from hurting, and it had fuck all to do with trust and healthy relationships.

“Look at me like that again,” North said, a lazy smile touching his ice-rim eyes, “and I’ll put your knife through your other hand. I told you I want all of it, so talk.”

Dropping his head, Brueckmann said, “They sign over everything to me. That’s part of the deal. That way, they’re fully committed. They’re getting what they want: absolute submission. I make sure they’re taken care of.”

“That’s why Sevcik was living in an apartment owned by your LLC.”

Brueckmann hesitated, and another realization flickered through Shaw.

“No,” Shaw said. “That was Mark Sevcik’s apartment. He owned it before he signed everything over to you. Is that right?”

Brueckmann nodded. “He must have kept a key. Or had one hidden. I don’t change the locks; it’s not worth the trouble.”

“So tell us about Mark Sevcik.”

“Mark came here a few months ago.”

“How many?” Shaw asked, but he already thought he knew the answer. Six. Six months ago. When everything had gone blank on Mark’s Facebook page.

“Five? Six? I’m not sure. He was like the rest of them: desperately unhappy, trying to figure out why all the things he worked so hard for didn’t make him feel any better. He was too much inside his own head. He was too inhibited. Too hung up. I told him I could help him.”

North glanced at Shaw; the look of disbelief on North’s face was almost comical. “And he agreed? He signed over everything to you? His house, his car, his bank accounts?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t have taken him as a sub if he hadn’t.”

“And then?” Shaw said.

“And then, a few months later, Mark changed his mind.”

Softball, Shaw thought. And then Dungeons and Dragons. And then e-sports. And then interior design.

“He wanted out. So I let him go.”

“And that was the end of it?” North said. “You just handed back the deed to his house, the keys to his car, wrote him a check, the end?”

Brueckmann didn’t answer.

“So this is a con,” North said.

“It’s not a con. Many of my subs stay permanently.”

“How many?”

Brueckmann didn’t answer again.

“And how many don’t stay? How many get six weeks in and are tired of getting their asses paddled, tired of giving you foot massages, tired of eating dog food out of a bowl on the ground while you eat steak, and they decide to leave?”