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Lisa was a psychopath.
I sighed and switched the channel, watching a different report, my paints and canvas neglected. I had come to the studio to get away from the case and the news, but I was trapped by a terrible curiosity. I needed to know how the public would respond to the video and couldn't imagine it would be easy for Drake to overcome it. Those images of Sunita's bruised and battered thighs and calves were seared into my memory and most likely those of the public who witnessed them. The one incongruous detail was that during the beating, Sunita never cried out. The brief clip of the video I'd seen online showed her taking the caning without complaint. She had been used to it -- enough so that she kept quiet. Lara said that her former Master had trained her that if she cried out, he would strike even harder so she trained herself to be quiet and absorb the pain. She really was a masochist. To her, the pain was a reward or maybe a diversion from some deeper pain. She claimed she had been abused as a child and had become aroused by punishment.
I cringed as I watched the cane strike again and again, surprised that the local television channel was showing it, but any sexualized body parts were blurred out as was Sunita's face. The full video was available online at the station's website. To preserve their viewer's sensitivity, the channel had elected to only show a still image from the video but probably thousands of people had watched the full video.
“The video shows Dr. Drake Morgan, known as Master D in the BDSM community, repeatedly striking his submissive partner with a cane, leaving clear welts on her thighs and legs. His claim that he was not into pain, but into pleasure seems to be refuted by the video evidence. Dr. Morgan was not available for comment, but his lawyer insisted that this was a one-time event when he was learning his own personal limits and preferences.”
"Dr. Morgan is what is known in the community as a gentle Dominant, more interested in bondage and dominance during sex than pain and discipline. He is more focused on his partner's pleasure -- or should I say, he was focused on that when he was an active member of the community. He is currently happily married with a beautiful wife and young daughter, both of whom were almost killed by Ms. Monroe when she struck Mrs. Morgan with her car...”
Thank God for Lara redirecting the focus onto Lisa's proven guilt in the attack on me.
I was worried it wouldn't be enough to divert focus from Drake onto Lisa's and Jones's horrific murder of Derek. People were always drawn to the more salacious sexual gossip and details. The nuances of BDSM preferences and the difference between being a gentle Dominant like Drake versus a sadist was often lost.
When the news report was finally done, and seeing nothing else about the case, I turned off the television and put on some soothing music instead. Then, I tried to focus on my canvas, but it was difficult with images of Sunita's bruised thighs stuck in my mind...
* * *
For the next hour, I managed to resist the temptation to turn on the television and see what else the stations were saying about Drake. I did get some decent work done on my painting, and was feeling much more relaxed. Of course, it was at that precise moment that my cell rang. I should have put it on do not disturb so that I wouldn't get interrupted but I was always afraid something bad would happen to Sophie and I wouldn't know about it until too late. So I heard the cell ring and felt I couldn't ignore it.
It was Dawn.
"Kate," she said, her voice sounding so sympathetic. "I was just watching the news and saw that video. I'm so sorry."
"Thanks," I said, rubbing my brow. "It's the last thing we needed. More bad publicity about Drake's past. He's already sacrificed so much."
"He has."
I was surprised that Dawn had called and was offering up some sympathy. She had come around on the whole issue of BDSM since dating Kurt, but still, I felt uncomfortable talking to her about my personal life. There was a part of me that couldn't forgive her for being so judgmental of my interest in Drake and BDSM.
We spoke briefly about the case, and she asked if I'd be up for lunch.
"I don't know," I said and scratched my head, trying to think of a good excuse to say no. "Drake was attacked and is recovering from a concussion. I don't like to leave him alone with Sophie until he's all better. Maybe once he's recovered completely, I'll give you a call."
"That's great," she said, and I cringed inwardly at the sound of hope in her voice. She really did want to reconnect, but I was still unconvinced.
"Look, Kate, I know you're still upset about everything between us," she said, her voice sounding emotional. "Believe me, I wish I could take it all back, but I can't. What I can do is apologize and show you that I can still be a good friend, when you need one. I'll leave it up to you, but I wanted to call and at least offer my sympathy for what you're going through."
"Thanks," I said and my heart truly did feel softened a little at her admission. "I appreciate it."
We said goodbye and I put my cell away, sighing, still wishing that we were the kind of friends we'd been before I met Drake. But we weren't. Both of us had gone in different directions and the bad feelings between us had only made the gulf between us even deeper. Thing was, I had no female friends. The closest was Lara, and she seemed to treat me like I was a little sister, rather than a real friend or equal.
Then, a knock came to my door. I went to open it and saw a young woman standing outside. She looked like one of Jules's friends -- long red hair in braids, a scarf tied around her forehead, wearing a short jean skirt, leggings and Doc Martens. Her nose ring and tattoo on her neck made her look like the coolest girl in school next to me, who was an older motherly type dressed in casual gym clothes.
"Hey," she said and pointed to the main room. "We're brewing some fresh fair trade organic coffee in case you want some. I made some brownies." She smiled and held out a plate of deep dark chocolate brownies with pecans sprinkled on top.
"Those aren't infused with pot or anything, are they?" I asked dubiously, bending down to peer at them a little more closely
.
"Oh, no, they're just chocolate. No CBD or THC in these babies."
"Thanks," I said and picked one off the plate and took one of the square napkins she held out in the other hand. "I'd love one."
"Come join us for some coffee. No pot in it either, in case you're worried."
I laughed and followed her into the main room, where Jules and another guy, tall and lanky with long black hair pulled back into a ponytail stood admiring one of the sculptures Jules was working on. For the next fifteen minutes, I felt like a completely ordinary artist communing with others of my tribe and not a submissive whose Dom husband was going to testify in a murder trial, where the accused was a former sex partner and who was currently the star of a viral pornographic violent sex video on the net.
It felt nice for a change...
