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"I know I'm right. Just love him, and submit when you have to. You'll be happier if you do. He's let you in farther than any other woman since his ex-wife. Kate, chill out and let this happen between you two. Don't have too many expectations. Try to enjoy him. That's really all I can say. Trust me."
I exhaled. "I'm sorry. You're right. I am over-thinking. It’s what I do."
"Good bye, Kate," she said and I could hear some humor and tolerance in her voice. "You are both complicated people. I guess I can expect nothing less than these phone calls asking for advice from you two."
"Has Drake called you asking for advice?"
"I can neither confirm nor deny that, Kate. He's my friend first, but rest assured I want what's best for you both."
"Isn't it unethical to talk to the other side during a case?"
"You bet it is," she said and laughed. "Luckily, you are not a case. You’re my very good friend's lover. I want him happy, and I know that he’ll be happy if things work out between you so I'm on your side too, Kate. I knew right away you two would click. I was hoping he'd be ready for something more. I figured you’d be just what the doctor ordered, so to speak."
I laughed, smiling as I thought about Lara acting as matchmaker and therapist.
"Thanks, Lara. I won't bug you again for at least a day or two."
"I'll hold you to that!" She hung up and I felt much better.
I got up from the bench and started walking, feeling incredibly silly for making such a scene earlier. Drake must be shaking his head that he got messed up with a sub who wasn't very submissive. I thought I was submissive. Maybe not completely a sub.
Maybe we'd have to find some kind of happy medium, if that was even possible in this lifestyle.
Drake was a complicated man. I couldn’t expect it to be all smooth sailing. We had to adjust to each other. Maureen's return and Drake learning about Liam and his illness was a complication that would test us. I didn’t want it to trip me up in my relationship with Drake.
As if I didn't have enough problems, when I opened my email, the first one in the queue was from Dawn. I knew it was probably a mistake to read it, but at the same time, I couldn't resist. Inside was one thing – a hyperlink to a webpage and I knew immediately what it was.
A video. One of Drake with Sunita.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
I sat with my phone in my hand, the email and link open, debating with myself whether to watch it. Finally, I opened the link, my heart pounding. The woman in the video was attractive, of East Indian descent. She was petite, with long dark hair and huge dark eyes. She was beautiful.
The video showed a man binding her, his careful movements designed to place the leather strips in specific locations, creating a pattern on her body. The man's face was hidden, but I recognized Drake's firm ass and nice body. His black hair was shorter than it was now, but I could tell it was him.
She watched his face intently as he bound her, an almost worshipful expression on hers.
I closed the link and threw my phone into my backpack.
I walked aimlessly, feeling like I couldn’t breathe, hiking through the slushy streets, my heart racing, a sick feeling in my stomach. I walked on, not certain where I would go or what I would do, afraid that the video would show me something I didn’t want to see.
Finally, I arrived back at the apartment. Drake had gone so I was alone and I felt a huge hole inside of me because I'd left angrily and over such a stupid thing. I wandered around the apartment and felt totally lost.
I went back to my email from Dawn and clicked the link once more.
Drake moved her to a St. John's Cross, her hands and ankles cuffed, now blindfolded and gagged. He kept his back to the camera, standing in front of her, using a riding crop, slapping her thighs and shaved pussy with it, dragging it between her spread thighs to tap her labia over and over, repeating a pattern. She moaned when he slapped her pussy, and he leaned closer and squeezed a clamp attached to her nipple, tugging on it, twisting it so she writhed on the cross.
He released the clamp on the other nipple and bent to it. She writhed and moaned over the ball gag and I assumed he'd sucked her nipple to soothe it.
"You like that, do you, slave?" he said, his voice breathy. "You're such a bad girl. You need this."
With that, he slapped the crop over her breasts, repeating the process on the other breast before moving back to her labia, which he slapped repeatedly with the crop.
The video ended at that point and I was glad. Nothing on the video meant that Drake was into p
ain or had engaged in edge play or knife play with Sunita. Still, there were bruises on her thighs. Drake told me that he tried to make Sunita happy, but that in the end, he didn’t respond to pain, giving it or receiving it.
Ultimately, I had to accept one of their accounts of their relationship. The video did nothing except make me feel extremely guilty and I was no further along than if I had never clicked on the link. Except that now I had the image of Drake twisting a clamp on one of her nipples, and slapping her with the riding crop.
