Unscripted Collapse

The next night, Matthias decided to ride the momentum from the previous stream. As soon as he went live, he introduced a new donation challenge, calling it "Discipline at Home."

"Alright, guys," he said, leaning back into the couch and crossing one leg over the other. "Even if yesterday was just a misunderstanding, she still tried to test me. That kind of behavior needs to be corrected."

He glanced at the screen, a faint smile playing on his lips.

"So here's the deal," he said, glancing at the screen. "If donations hit ten grand tonight, I'll have her kneel and read a self-reflection." He let out a soft chuckle. "Not punishment. Just… a little education."

The stream picked up almost instantly. Viewer count climbed fast, blowing past a hundred thousand within minutes.

Donation alerts began popping up across the screen, one after another, each with its own sound and flashing banner. Messages flooded in along with them, stacking faster than they could be read.

The numbers kept rising.

Less than five minutes in, the total had already passed ten thousand.

Matthias smiled, clearly satisfied.

He reached under the coffee table and pulled out a rigid plastic board, then set it down in front of me. Its surface was lined with rows of raised ridges, uneven and unforgiving.

"On your knees." He pointed at it as he spoke, his tone calm, almost casual.

I stepped forward in my thin pajama pants, my chest tightening as I looked down at it. Biting my lower lip, I slowly lowered myself.

The moment my knees touched the surface, pain shot through me, sharp and immediate, climbing straight up my spine and into my skull. A muffled gasp slipped from my throat, and my body wavered for a second before I forced myself to stay upright.

The chat erupted.

[She actually did it. He runs that house, no question.]

[That thing looks brutal. She's tougher than I thought.]

[Make her read it. Louder.]

Matthias handed me a stack of printed pages. He crouched down, carefully straightening them before placing them into my hands, as if he were handling something delicate.

"Go on, baby," he said softly. "If you did something wrong, you admit it. That's how you learn."

My fingers tightened around the pages as my voice began to shake.

"I have failed in my role as a wife and tried to challenge my husband's authority. I fully acknowledge my mistakes…"

The words tasted like ash as I forced them out. Tears blurred my vision, slipping down my cheeks as I continued reading.

He did not like the pace.

After a moment, he stood and walked over, then crouched in front of me again. A freshly lit cigarette rested between his fingers as he leaned closer, his voice dropping near my ear.

"Lily, are you not taking this seriously?"

Before I could react, he pressed the burning tip against the back of my neck. A sharp sting tore through me, followed by the faint, sickening smell of scorched skin. I flinched instinctively, my arms coming up to shield myself.

The loose sleeve of my top slipped down, exposing my wrist. Old scars lined the skin there, thin and overlapping, remnants of the past three years. Marks left from belts, from charging cables, from everything he had used to tie me down.

I held my wrist still, just within the frame of the camera, for a few quiet seconds.

The chat slowed.

[Wait… what's that on her wrist?]

[Zoom in. Those don't look self-inflicted.]

[This feels off. Is this actually real?]

[Someone call the cops.]

The hesitation did not last long before it was swallowed by a fresh wave of noise in the chat, but it had already been enough. Screenshots were being taken, spreading faster than the comments themselves.

Matthias noticed, yet instead of reacting, he remained completely calm as he stepped toward the camera, reached down, and took hold of my wrist, lifting it up for everyone to see.

"Relax, guys," he said easily.

"She had some issues before she met me, you know, depression and all that. Those scars are from back then. She did that to herself." He shrugged, as if it were nothing.

"I've been the one taking care of her these past few years. Honestly, without me, she wouldn't be who she is now."

His tone turned almost patient, almost reasonable.

"Sometimes I have to be strict. It's for her own good. You know how it is."

Then he turned back to me and gently patted my hair.

"Right, Lily?"

I nodded, my movements stiff and mechanical.

The chat shifted again.

[Yeah, that makes sense.]

[He's just trying to help her.]

[Girls like that need structure.]

Just like that, the doubt faded.

I remained kneeling, the pressure grinding into my knees as blood slowly seeped through the fabric, dripping into the grooves beneath me.

When the viewer count peaked, Matthias ended the stream without warning.

"That's it for tonight."

The screen went dark.

He crouched in front of me once more, his thumb brushing away the tears on my face. His voice softened, almost gentle again.

"Next Wednesday marks three years since I started fixing you," he said. "I'll go through your diary entries on stream. Let everyone see what real progress looks like."

He straightened, smoothing out his pants as if nothing had happened.

"You should be grateful, Lily," he added lightly. "Without me, you'd be nothing."