Coming Clean With Donna

Well, I’ve been holding off for a while, because I’m a little addicted to the drama of keeping it going, but it’s time finally to finally come clean (ahem~ clears throat, and takes deep breath).

I’m a huge liar, but of course you can’t always tell when a liar’s lying, until you see the whole pattern, and get the proof. Donna has me cornered, for some time now, and my usual thing is to just put up more smokescreens, to try to keep up my favourite curtain of privacy, to continue indulging in my private pleasures. Lies are fun, and make you feel important, and in control. I’m ready to let go, though, because Donna has my hands tied anyway, and that’s pretty uncomfortable, being held hostage, by one’s own lies. Ahhhh, it’s such a relief, when it’s finally out of my pocket, even if it leaves a terrible mess behind. Donna, can I go now?

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Not yet, I’m afraid, while there’s still tough love to be dished out. This won’t hurt a bit (removes gag). Let’s just see the lies one more time, before we get you out of that corner, and let you slink off to try to reinvent yourself, elsewhere (opens file cabinet labelled a858/Corsi files, and flicks through to the “BS” tab, to remove tattered folder)

Lesseee here (removes the gloves and pulls out a previously redacted comm., from the NSA Q Department Secret Sh*te Sticky notes section, marked DM/DE/JQ, 2018)

Now, Wacky Jacky, we’ll just give you a breather there, without your sock between you and the world, for a mo’, so, as you put it yerself, brace yourself, ‘cos you’re not gonna have as much fun as I am, going over the lies, and deception, but it’s gotta be done (throws wet socks aside, and gets comfortably seated, crossing legs in a demurely ladylike pose). Let’s commence, shall we (puts a heel in the heel’s open mouth, to stifle objections)?

What’s this then? My, I do believe it’s the No Such Agency’s copied file, from an earlier convo with moi, when you were trying to run one of your likkle LaRPoPs on me, with your recycled and cheapo Xmas gifts, some Q photos, as well as trying to pawn the same gift off on gullible Q conspiracists, who are as keen on swallowing lies, as you were, on dishing them out. I saved them, because a lot of it was rhubarb word salad, at the time, but had a feeling it would come in handy later, if only for the giggles.

(notices Q weeping quietly, and begging to be let escape to his safe space)

Oh, OK. Just a little bit of pain, for now. You like a little, but not a lot, as we all know. And you like games, and it is Xmas, so let’s play the Xmas game first (flings wet sock in Q’s face, and watches him retrieve it from the floor, to bite down on it, and brace himself for the incoming pain, as first folder opens).

[Licks finger seductively, before comm-encing with playful but tortuous business] Now, let’s unbolt this one (whips out a comm, sending a cold but oddly satisfying shiver down prisoner a858’s back, where others might have a spine)

Har har. I did think myself that was a nice opener. You’ve always enjoyed games, after all.

(Taps chin thoughtfully with whip handle) Hmmmn. More of your usual Q waffle, but the question did eventually register, after you understood the game I proposed playing, and I wanted a quiz game. And, you know, she who must be obeyed, and all that (flicks whip teasingly towards Coward’s Corner).

More waffle, more waffle. Saved it for files anyhow. You never know when it’ll come in handy (flicks past evasive waffle)

Oh, finally. You got on board with the game, eventually. You are awfully awkward about humouring me. I see we shared a tipple, before settling into the Christmas Cracker Quiz I organised for our entertainment, and edification. You wanted to know the rules. I remember now, though it was hardly Trivial Pursuit.

He he. Yeah, it’s all coming back to me now. I had to offer a prize, and make you cosy, before you’d agree to play my quiz game. I know you like mind games, really, you tease, you.

Still, I got to ask the quiz question, without further interruptions, so the party could really get under way.

So, had you really attended that fancy ball, shortly before, to see 2018 out, or not? Wasn’t that a fun question, and it’s even more fun when you have the answers to hand, but play along. Hmmmn. More waffle, victim role play and evasion from you, keeping you from kicking off before question get answered, from me, back and forth we go, yada yada, waffle waffle (flicks through repetitive bs)…

It’s awfully odd, that for a guy that calls himself Q, prisoner a858, who says he loves questions about everything, you are so averse to answering them yourself (stares directly at “Jack”, who looks uncomfortable, to say the least, but can’t find his voice, apparently, with only the odd small squeaking noise escaping).

Wow. I’d forgotten how patient a woman I am (wipes stream of saliva off prisoner a858’s mouth, as he appears to be dribbling, somewhat [again], and shoves sock back in, as it’s not a pretty sight). Just bang your head on the floor three times, if you want me to stop, OK? Cool. I probably won’t, but it’s fun watching you wiggle about.

Ha ha. You crack me up sometimes. I would have thought it was quite obvious I didn’t mind if your games stopped, and me, but knew you were hooked on the fantasy of trying to gag me. I can be quite entertaining, I admit, with my quiz topics. I had such a laugh at your wriggling, to get off the hook, for the Q lies, that night, before I reeled you in, for the lies about your so-called-Q photos (Pushes Q’s face back gently, not caring to see it at close quarters, or smell the dirty sock up close).

Finally. Crunch time. Q was at the ol’ white palace ball, according to himself. We’re going to be amazed when we find out who he really is, apparently, ‘cos Jack Quinlan’s an undercover name, he claims, and he’s tres important (yawn). Let’s start wrapping up this quiz, and give the correct answers, ‘cos it’s going on a long time. Extracting truth can be like that, with liars involved, and sometimes they’re trying to play by Blind Man’s Bluff rules, when quizzes don’t really work like that, when a quiz mistress has the answer cards up her sleeves.

But, you know, I’m not Ming the Merciless, so I tried to help the guy out a bit, by giving him bonus time, before I hit the Stop, on the ol’ timer. Goodness knows, I’d given him far too much leniency, time wise, already, before I hit him up with the source of the Q photos he gave as his green Xmas recycling effort, and also proved he wasn’t Jack Quinlan, with the other photos he provided. Six months of drivel out of him, including threats, before I had the answers to the questions collated, up my sleeve, and a nice Xmas quiz to deliver, to the man who likes to dream he’s The Punisher.

Turned right nasty after that, like he did before, when I wouldn’t play into his hands, and play along with games with him, previously. Must have felt a bit cornered, way out of his comfort zone. So I let him go, after providing the answers he hoped I didn’t have. Bad sport, really, although he did thank me, for playing. Well, it’s the least he could do, when he wanted to be entertained, so badly. Kept playing with himself, ’till I turned in for the night, after the game.

Fancy thinking someone’s threatening you, just over a few likkle photos, when you’ve threatened a whole Q army belting down on them yerself (smiles over at the dribbler in the corner)? Huh. Seemed quite out of sorts. Why stick around, after the quiz, I thought, when participants are sore losers? I turned in for the night, since he’d pretty much turned in the game.

Well, OK, I admit, I did mess about a bit, before leaving, since he was doing the Q threats again. Just to lighten the mood a tad, from this:

Tee hee. I am naughty, but you have to be cruel, sometimes, to be kind (flicks whip and tosses Q a Scooby Snack treat). See, love means showing you care, at times. I didn’t, after a long day quizmastering. I’ve lots more comms. from the wafflinator known in his own world as Q. Might whip ’em out, if he’s eager for more punishment, but I’m fed up of the game, personally. Where’s the fun, if you hold all the cards (let’s Q off the leash, for a while, to relieve himself)?

Wait, prisoner a858. What do you say when your leash is removed (taps pointed patent toe on concrete interrogation floor, slightly impatient to get on to other things)?

Thank you, Donna.

You’re welcome. Just remember, nobody enjoys being around a whinger, or a glutton for punishment, or threats. Or liars, for that matter. [Extends tip of shoe for a kiss, and watches prisoner a858 crawl away to a safe space].

And Jack. Be a good boy, or……well, you know yourself. There’ll be more punishment. Although, you do seem to enjoy it.

Backchannel to the “sauce”. See photo analysis here:

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