They made their way to the game room where her father held his weekly pool games and her mother a monthly bridge tournament. At the end of the hall, the house divided—her parents’ bedroom, study, and gym down the left hallway, more guest rooms, the game room, and her mother’s sitting room down the right. Josie was glad she and Alex didn’t have to pass the sitting room to get to the pinball machine. The thought of her mother knitting coupled with that feeling of childhood enormity made her uneasy. She took a deep breath and imagined Devesh’s hand interlaced with hers and then quickly saw herself tied to the bed the night before he left—back arched, buttocks out, the heavy black belt coming down fiercely on her skin. She felt her body flush and prickle. She hadn’t imagined a single violent thing since she had entered her parents’ house, and the sudden rush made her pause.

“Josie,” Alex called.

She had stopped just outside the game room. “Yeah; just a second.” It felt as if she had been shot up with some powerful serum. Her heart beat hard in her chest, and her body flooded. She ran her fist along her backside again, this time digging each knuckle into a different spot, making it throb, and yet now she could imagine nothing more pleasurable than having the belt bite her skin. He would take her wrists in his hand and push her into a corner, tell her to stay there with her palms on the wall while he found something to beat her with. And maybe it wouldn’t be his belt. He might leave her alone in the room and come back with a switch cut from one of the backyard cherry trees. He would stand behind her and slowly strip the bark from the branch until it was only white tender wood. And it would sting. Unlike the belt that gave more of a deep thuddy throb, the switch would cut quickly, making it harder to keep in position.

“Josie,” Alex called again.

“Go on,” she said. “There’s a chair you can stand on.”

Alex scraped the chair along the floor, and she stayed in the doorway.