It felt good to stand in the hot water and let it roll over me. I washed myself and then came out of the shower, just as Drake came in.
“My turn,” he said and stripped off his boxers, stepping in the shower and turning it on.
While I finished drying off, I watched him in the mirror as he washed. Even through the steam, I could see him – his delicious body, all man, and all mine. I admired his physique, knowing every inch of his body so well after these past two years with him. Still, seeing his semi-erect cock did nothing for me and that made me feel bad. I’d never been so sexless in my life – especially around him. I knew it was the result of hormonal changes in my body due to the pregnancy and nursing, but it felt strange not to want him the way I did even before Sophia was born. As big as I had been while I was pregnant, I had wanted Drake – sometimes desperately in need of his cock inside of me.
Now, I only felt tired when I saw him naked.
I bit my bottom lip and left the bathroom, quickly dressing in a pair of yoga pants and one of my breastfeeding bras and a loose top so I could easily pull out a breast to feed Sophie when she needed me. I stood at my dresser and brushed my hair, studying myself in the mirror. I looked the same, although there were dark circles under my eyes that no amount of sleep seemed to be able to erase.
I knew I should have spoken to Drake about my sadness, being tired all the time and this dark oppressive cloud hanging over my head, but I felt that if I brought it up, I’d start crying and would never stop. So I didn’t.
Drake finished his shower so I went downstairs to the living room and had a second cup of coffee – decaf so I didn’t upset Sophie. I wanted her to sleep as much as possible, because then I could as well. In fact, despite having at least six hours of sleep, I was ready to lie down and sleep more.
I plopped down on the sofa and picked up my iPad, thinking I might read some news headlines, but instead, I yawned. I scrolled through the news feed and then I saw it – the Herald article on Drake. I couldn’t resist reading it although I knew it would make me sad or mad – one or the other. Mad felt better so I read it.
The article did a brief recap of the story – I was pregnant and was struck by a car rented by a previous sexual partner of my husband, Drake Morgan, MD, renowned neurosurgeon. Then, the article talked about how Drake was known as ‘Master D’ in BDSM circles, and had an online presence, recently deleted, as well as letters that directed his ‘submissives’ how to act around him and what to expect.
Then, the interview with a ‘former submissive’ of Drake’s – who went by the name ‘Sunny’ but whom I knew was Sunita. Described as a colleague of Drake’s who was in the lifestyle and who became involved with Drake as his submissive, the article claimed that Drake got sexual pleasure when he whipped and caned her (that was a clear lie), demanding that she was to be on her knees at all times (that I thought might be true).
“He enjoyed it,” the woman who calls herself ‘Sunny’ said to this reporter. “He insisted that I crawl on the ground to him, and kiss his feet. Then he caned me until he drew blood. He liked it.”
The article mentioned a temporary restraining order Dr. Morgan’s former wife took out on him during their divorce. When asked about the restraining order, Dr. Morgan’s former wife refused comment.
This reporter wonders whether his former wife is still afraid of Dr. Morgan…
That made my face hot with anger. It was pure gossip and untrue. Maureen wasn’t afraid of Drake. She was upset at him, had found someone new, and didn’t care about Drake anymore.
The reporter went on to wonder what Dr. Morgan’s patients might think of his sexual interests, and noted that he had already taken a year leave of absence from his position as a staff neurosurgeon at New York Presbyterian.
Perhaps trouble is brewing for Dr. Dominant at his place of employment?
I was so angry by then that I almost threw the iPad across the room. In fact, I did plop it down on the coffee table a bit too hard and was afraid that I’d cracked the screen. My heart rate was increased and I was on the verge of tears of anger when Drake walked into the living room and saw me.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, his brow furrowed.
“I read the Herald article,” I said, my voice wavering with emotion. “I can’t believe they can get away with this. Can’t you sue for defamation or libel?”
He shrugged. “I’ll speak with Lara. I’m sure I need proof that the article has hurt my reputation, and it’s too soon. There’s a lot these gossip rags can say, using ‘fair comment’ as justification. Lara will probably do some sleuthing and let me know.”
“I’m so sorry this happened to you,” I said, my eyes brimming. “Sunita was so long ago. Why can’t she let things be?”
He shook his head and flopped down beside me, his wet hair hanging in his eyes.
“She’s trying to get right with God, or something. She’s joined this crusade against BDSM and I guess I’m the bad guy.”
“That’s so wrong,” I said, my fists clenched. I took in a deep breath and tried to relax, but it was hard. I turned to Drake and searched his face. “Has anyone at work seen it? What about at NYU?”
He shook his head. “Too soon to know what the fallout will be. I sent an email to Fred to give him a head’s-up about it but haven’t heard back yet.”
He put his arm around my shoulder and pulled me closer. I snuggled into his arms and we sat in silence for a few moments. He kissed the top of my head and it was done totally out of affection, not to signify that we were in scene, but it made me think back to the last time we had done a scene. It seemed like so long ago – before I started to show. Once I was pregnant with a big belly, I didn’t feel like being tied up and blindfolded. I couldn’t explain it, but it didn’t feel right somehow.
Now, I wasn’t sure I ever wanted to do a scene again. All I’d be able to think about was Drake with Sunita, him with a cane in his hand, striking her on the backs of her thighs. I pushed that out of my mind. BDSM – at least the BD and D/s part of it, was part of our relationship and probably would be for a long time. I had enjoyed that part of our relationship. It was how we came together. It was how I came to understand my own sexual needs and desires for the first time.
I was so confused about how I felt. Part of me felt sad and angry at the same time. Part of me felt dread about what was coming. There was only a very small part of me that felt any happiness and that was only fleeting.
I should have spoken to Drake about my unhappiness, but he had enough on his plate now that the article had come out and his past in BDSM was public knowledge.
So I didn’t.