I didn’t want her to think I was a battered woman, but how could I explain to her that I needed these marks as much as my master needed to give them...to me? She kept her distance and crossed her arms in front of her chest. “My boyfriend—“ I started. She raised an eyebrow. “Your BOYfriend?” she asked, looking skeptical. “Well, yes, but, well, he’s not. I mean—“ I stammered. “He’s not what, Krys? Not beating you up or not your boyfriend?” I saw a little smile cross her lips. I took a deep breath.. ” So we sat in the cab of my pick-up and talked. I learned that before Sandy had moved to Florida the department she was working at was all-male, except her. From the very beginning, most of the men considered her nothing more than a sex object. Their antics were mostly juvenile, but one night her own partner handcuffed her to the bars of a cell and tried to assault her. Fortunately, the Chief walked in. Her partner insisted that it was consensual; she swore otherwise. It was finally “agreed”. More

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