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“Who?” I asked, my back stiffening. It had to be Sunita, of course. She was the only submissive I had ever tried using a flogger and cane on – at her insistence. It was during the time when Lara was trying to see if I had any sadism in me. She tried, but of course she never found any.
“Who is none of your business right now. Let’s say she has incriminating photographs and video which suggest you are into pain, no matter what you claim.”
I shook my head. “There isn’t any sadism in me. Quite the opposite. I love pleasure, not pain. Administering a punishment, such as a spanking, is done solely to reinforce our roles and I didn’t enjoy it. I didn’t get off on pain – not in the least bit.”
She raised her eyebrows at me. “I saw the pictures. I saw you with her in various poses. And the video is, well, pretty damning.”
I sighed heavily, and regretted again that I had ever agreed to do that video.
“That was when I was learning and discovering who I was. I learned that I didn’t like pain – giving or receiving. I made sure from then on to screen my partners very carefully so I didn’t get anyone who expected pain or was into it.”
She nodded. “So my reporter says, but we still want to include that woman’s experience in our story, although we will protect her privacy. And of course, we won’t be showing any of the graphic parts of the video on our website.”
“What about my privacy?”
She shook her head and smiled. “I’m sorry, Dr. Morgan, but you don’t have the luxury of privacy any longer. Especially now that your wife’s case is in the news. You better prepare yourself. It’s not going to be pleasant for you or your wife.”
“Why did you ask me here if you’re going to run the story anyway?”
She shrugged. “I wanted you to have a chance to tell your side of things. We’ll present both sides – your story and her story and let our readers decide which one is more believable.”
I exhaled and leaned back. “The truth is that this woman you interviewed – and I know who it has to be because there was only ever one woman who might talk about pain when speaking of me and who would have a video-- she’s a very unhappy young woman. She had a bit of an obsession with me and so she might be vindictive. If she says I enjoyed administering a punishment, she’s lying. That’s why we ended our association in fact. She wanted it and I didn’t.”
“That’s not what she said. She said you enjoyed it and she broke up with you because you weren’t skilled enough. You actually hurt her."
I sighed at the prospect that Sunita had lied about me. Again. She must have been hoping to hurt me, hurt my career, my relationship even more than she had already.
“Have you done any background research on Sunita?”
“We have,” she said and nodded, a pencil in her hand. “We don’t blame victims.”
“She wasn’t a victim,” I said a bit more forcefully than I wanted. “She did this voluntarily. She signed waivers—.”
“That doesn’t mean she isn’t still a victim. She was abused as a child, you know. She grew up being abused. Someone like that can’t consent. It would be like saying that it was okay for her ex-husband to beat her because she agreed to live in his house.”
“It’s not the same at all. Safe, sane and consensual—.”
“No, no,” she said and held out a hand, wagging her finger, interrupting me. “Don’t try to tell me that people who do this are sane. Sorry. Not buying it.”
What could I say to that? Of course, I knew that a small percentage of people who got into BDSM did so to work through trauma. Some people found BDSM attractive as a way to deal with their issues. Most people liked the excitement of trying new things.
“She was a consenting adult. Any psychiatrist could tell you that.”
“Consent is a tricky concept, Doctor. Can you consent when you’re mentally ill?”
I closed my eyes. It was a question I had often thought of and why I steered clear of anyone who seemed the least bit motivated by a need to work through childhood trauma.
“She wasn’t mentally ill.”
We stared at each other across her desk. Finally, I took in a deep breath.
“Look, I can’t stop you from publishing that article or releasing that video. But you should know that Sunita had a history before she ever met me. She
was looking for something. I was looking for something else. It didn’t work out for us and I moved on although she was quite upset for a while. If she suggests that I’m a sadist in any way, she’s lying. Plain and simple.”
Peterson made a face, holding the pencil between her hands and playing with it. “That’s what other people told us – people who know you both. I wanted to meet you and see what you had to say for yourself.”
“What I have to say is this,” I said and leaned forward. “Lisa Monroe is a very sick woman. She was stalking me, jealous of my happy marriage, and when she was expelled from the program at NYU, she attacked my wife, almost killing her in the process. We had a few brief encounters at private parties— “
