The Lair
“I don’t want to get too addicted to the drug of you,” Seth told Kat in instant messages just before she moved in to the Sawyer Mill apartment.
“My side effects are bite and scratch marks,” she playfully replied.
Instead of sleeping in, Seth now had to wake up early each morning and drive Kat to Portsmouth High School, and then pick her up again in the afternoon, unless she could get a friend to drive her to Dover.
Kat’s relationships with her friends remained mostly unchanged, but she was cold to her family. Both of her brothers also attended Portsmouth High, and when they would pass in the hallways, Kat walked by without looking at them. If either tried to say hello, she acted as though she didn’t hear.
Despite Kat’s estrangement, Denise wanted to stay in touch with her daughter. But Kat wouldn’t respond to her mother’s texts or her instant messages on Facebook.
Because Denise had been so active in the local theater scene, she had been longtime Facebook friends with Seth. Despite his oversized ego, Seth kept a pretty small public digital footprint, and his posts revealed very little about what he was up to. Denise tried to reach out to Seth through Facebook, asking him if he would like to come over for dinner with Kat or if he could pass on a message to have her daughter get in touch.
Her messages went ignored, and soon after she sent them, Seth unfriended Denise and blocked her from viewing his account. He made Kat do the same.
—
The Lair, still resplendent with fantasy battle and video game paraphernalia, was now Kat’s place too. But neighbors in Sawyer Mill found the couple strangely mismatched. One neighbor, an assistant football coach from UNH who lived on the same floor, was of the impression that Kat was a very quiet, shy girl while Seth was a braggart who loved to engage him in conversation and boast about his karate skills. Used to the braggadocio of young men, the coach thought Seth perceived him as another “alpha male.”
Seth had long lived like a slob and knew the apartment was a disaster. The bathroom had never seen a thorough cleaning, and evidence of at least two previous meals could always be found on the counter or in the cluttered kitchen sink. Before Kat would visit, he’d make a quick run through, wiping and picking up only the most egregious offenses. He’d make the futon bed and made sure there were walking paths through any books or CDs left on the floor.
In preparation for Kat moving in, Seth made room for her clothes and belongings by packing away some of his own things and making space in the apartment’s small closet. He also purchased all sorts of cleaning supplies and vowed to stay on top of the housework. He had a large box of blue latex gloves he took from an ambulance company he’d worked for and wore them to scrub the apartment’s grimy surfaces with chemical cleaners.
Kat found the relative peace of Seth’s apartment relaxing. She set up a chair next to one of the two industrial windows preserved from the original mill. The sun would warm her face, and she had a nice view of the river running past. Sometimes Seth’s cat, Raven, would jump on her lap while she daydreamed. He reminded her of the cat named Merlin she’d left behind in Portsmouth.
Their financial situation was tight. Seth never asked Kat to pay rent—he couldn’t, not after he had used her father’s rent demand to put pressure on her to move in—and they instead agreed that Kat would contribute a predetermined amount of money for groceries and gas. The sum was a hefty chunk of her take-home pay, so it was hard for her to save any money.
There were parallels between Seth’s lifestyle with Kat and with Catherine Fish. If Kat did splurge on something like lunch or new clothes, Seth would become upset.
“You already have a lot of clothes,” he’d scold.
When Seth felt a wave of anger or depression coming on—the condition he referred to as “the Darkness”—he would get antsy and want to leave the apartment. He’d hint that Darkheart was making him leave, possibly to hurt someone. Catherine would chase him, passing his test to see if he was wanted. Likewise, Kat’s reaction would be to grab his arm and convince him to stay.
“You keep me calm,” he’d say with a smile, which made Kat feel like she was taking care of him. It pushed every button in her; she was a person born to please others.
When Kat moved out, Denise had stopped paying for her daughter’s cell phone, but although he and Kat no longer had to rely on Facebook for communication, Seth wanted to be able to reach Kat during the day and decided to open a joint account despite the expense. They each bought cell phones with slide-out keyboards for easy texting. Kat had Seth listed in the contacts on her phone as “Darkheart.”
Seth hadn’t heard back from the police departments where he’d applied, but he couldn’t put off getting a steady job in order to supplement his piecemeal income. He took a position at Best Buy working in the video game section. The store was located close to the Target where Kat worked, and the extra money he earned at Best Buy was just enough to cover their meager lifestyle. The couple didn’t eat out, and a big night out might mean going to see an action movie or a local theater production. Most of the couple’s free time was spent playing video games, watching DVDs, or having sex, which they did with the frequency of newlyweds.
The sex didn’t get more conventional now that Seth and Kat were sharing a bed. If anything, the novelty of being together without interference took them even further from what most people would consider normal. Seth’s preferred style of intercourse didn’t change—it was still intense and almost always aggressive. He suggested that the rough sex was a measure of their intense desire for each other, proof that their passion was all-consuming. Kat agreed.
Once Kat was inside the Lair full-time, Seth demanded sex multiple times a day every day, once demanding that she have sex with him nine times. Kat gave him whatever he wanted, checking off every letter in BDSM and several that weren’t part of the practice.
He’d bind her with brown leather buckles. He’d make her crawl around. He’d called her horrible and humiliating names. He’d spank and hit and whip and cut and cause Kat whatever pain he desired to inflict. When he felt like slowing down, Seth would insist on other kinds of sex play. A box under the futon held all of the couple’s accessories: ropes, blindfolds, a leather bra, multiple collars and leather belts, knives, packages of condoms. Kat had created the box herself. Did it indicate she was an enthusiastic participant or someone trying to pacify an erratic lover?
Kat still enjoyed being tied up by Seth, especially all the gentle attention the process required. She was a fan of being confined by corsets too; the complicated laces squeezing her together felt almost comforting, like being swaddled. Bored and impatient with the effort required to lace her corsets or tie complicated knots, however, Seth started using the ropes for their bondage play less frequently. Instead he would reach for leather straps and belts with which he could quickly immobilize her. Kat was disappointed by this, missing the careful attention Seth paid her while tying complicated knots. The ropes did not disappear completely, however. A cord of the soft cotton line remained fastened to each of the futon’s four legs for easy access.
Seth told Kat he wanted to practice more erotic asphyxiation, or “breath control,” the act of cutting off a lover’s airway during sex. It was something Darkheart wanted to do with Skarlet, he claimed. Seth would most often use his hands, reaching around Kat’s neck and squeezing her windpipe. He also used a belt threaded through the buckle like a noose. Asphyxiation was one among the most physically dangerous of the “edgeplay” sex acts any couple could engage in.
But not even when doing this did Seth and Kat ever employ a safe word or other signal of distress.
Until now, they had played the role of Dominant and Submissive. As Dom, Seth had guided their sexual play. As Sub, Kat had followed his lead. But now Kat felt she had some control over the direction of their encounters. There were times Seth wanted to perform a certain act and Kat suggested something else instead. If she turned him down, however, he would usually become angry, and Kat would acquiesce and let him do what he wanted to her. Despite this pattern of submission, Kat no longer considered herself strictly a Sub. She instead saw herself as a “Switch,” someone who could play either Dom or Sub.
During one encounter, Seth allowed Kat to tie him up to let her play the role of Dominant. But he didn’t exactly submit as a Sub would, instead granting her permission to use the ropes rather than giving himself over to her desires. She used the knife, carved an X in his back. It was the only time he actually allowed Kat to “Switch,” and even then, her taking the lead was largely an illusion.
After she moved in, Seth gave Kat new lessons in his version of BDSM. There were more than just Dom and Subs, he told her. There were also Masters and Slaves.
Unlike a Sub, a slave had no say in the acts the Master could choose to perform. While a Dom takes a Sub’s pleasure into consideration, a Master does not do so with a Slave’s. A Sub is a lady, Seth said. A Slave is a slut, and must be treated like one. A Slave must obey her Master without question, without hesitation.
Seth said that he would be in control always, but that sometimes Kat would be his Sub and sometimes she would be his Slave. When they had sex as Slave and Master, Kat had to address Seth as “Lord” or “Sire.” Seth would call her “whore” or “slut,” forcing her to get on the floor and beg for his forgiveness or affection. But the Slave never got affection. She only received more punishment.
Kat, by all accounts, seemed to embrace the hedonism, to enjoy it. She even penned a BDSM love poem to Seth, saying, “I want you to attack me/I need to be dominated . . . I want to be hit and thrown down/I really want to be tied up. Tight.” and referring to herself as “The Willing.”
Seth responded with a note of his own. He said to his “Willing” that he would dominate her “brutally, without mercy.” He wrote: “Others will watch as I command your submission.”
He ended his letter with this sentiment: “I am your Lord. You, my Lady, are my toy.”
They had been through so much, they would say to each other. This world and the next had tried to come between them. She was his Skarlet, his dragon rider. He was her Darkheart, his dragon. Of course she was his “Willing.”
—
If Kat thought moving into his apartment would quell Seth’s desire to find a second girl to join them in bed, she was sadly mistaken. She had done what was asked of her to keep the Darkness in check, so it followed logic that the Darkness would not force him to take another woman as a minion, but Seth never stopped talking about a ménage à trois. If anything, his interest in it increased. He told Kat that only finding another girl to fuck would keep the Darkness under control.
Seth’s weekly video game get-togethers with his friend Andy didn’t stop when Kat moved in either. Now that Kat was in the apartment, the futon was never folded into the couch position. It was always pulled out like a bed, the sheets and comforter tucked under the thin mattress.
Andy would sit on the floor, his back up against the edge of the mattress. Seth would join Andy on the floor while they tapped and clicked on their wireless game controllers. Kat sometimes played too, but she mostly watched. Or she did her homework. She still had to get up early to attend high school, but there was no going to bed in the studio apartment when it was time to play video games.
Andy would later recall to officials that one evening while he sat on the floor blasting his way through a one-player game, Kat took a seat behind him on the futon. Seth turned his attention away from Andy’s score and climbed up to join her. It got quiet as everyone became preoccupied with their own endeavors. Andy could hear the couple making out, gasping for air between their tongues. He went on playing the video game.
Seth called out to his friend in a matter-of-fact tone.
“Would you mind if I had sex with my girlfriend?”
Andy wasn’t sure what to say. He liked to think of himself as open-minded and accepting of his friend. He told them to do what they wanted.
As Andy tried to focus solely on the small TV screen, the noises from behind him changed. He heard a rustle of blankets, the tink of a belt buckle prong bouncing off its frame. The smacking of lips and tongues was replaced by guttural breathing in rhythm with the groans of the futon’s frame. No one spoke.
Andy was uncomfortable, but he never turned around to watch. After what felt like an excruciating eternity, Andy heard Kat let out a squeak of pleasure. The bouncing on the futon stopped. Andy saw Kat walk past him to the bathroom in his peripheral vision. She was naked from the waist down. Seth got up to dispose of a condom, then rejoined his friend’s campaign through the virtual battlefield.
After Andy left, Seth and Kat discussed how the evening went. Seth declared the evening was fine, the sex was hot, and Andy seemed none the worse for having been there. “I knew he could deal with somewhat vanilla behavior,” Seth said of his friend. “The more violent and festishy stuff might weird him out.”
Seth never shared his personas with his longtime friend Andy. They never delved into each other’s sex lives (never even discussing that night), so Andy was unaware of Seth’s penchant for rough sex. All Andy knew was what Seth did tell him: that he and Kat were looking for a willing partner to join them for a threesome.
That spring, Andy got a job in central New Hampshire, about an hour away from Dover, and never resumed their gaming get-togethers.
Other than her own embarrassment that Andy had seen her nude, Kat admitted to having liked it too. The “vanilla behavior” was a satisfying change of pace. She’d felt like neither Sub nor Slave, just a young and impulsive lover.
But Seth also had a different takeaway from the encounter. Here was a way to entice a girl into a three-way. He and Kat could get the action going on the futon and then ask their guest to join. All they needed to do was convince a potential lover to visit the apartment long enough for them to get it on.
Seth’s focus on bringing another woman into their bed meant that he and Kat were now juggling several potential relationships. Four of Kat’s friends from school and theater groups had been targeted by Seth for their potential to become his minions. He also suggested that Bridget, his old girlfriend, might be a good choice. She’d had sex with him in the past, so he believed she might do so again. It was unclear to Kat how their relationship had ended, but Seth licked his lips at the thought of bringing Bridget back into his orbit.
At this point, Kat was actually interested. In the weeks she’d lived in the Lair with Seth, she’d crossed so many sexual boundaries that having a threesome no longer seemed foreign. When it came to their sexual pecking order, Seth declared he was the “alpha” and Kat was the “beta,” but that if there were another woman in their bed, Seth said Kat would be the “alpha” over her.
—
In late spring, Kat finally began attending the EMT-B class in Durham with Seth. After finishing up her final semester in high school by day, she accompanied Seth to the EMT-B class at night.
The material was old hat for Seth as he worked toward his recertification. One classmate would later comment that it looked more like Kat was following Seth around like a puppy, not attending class to achieve some vocational goal of her own.
The curriculum included learning lifesaving techniques, like how to stop bleeding and how to help someone who was struggling to breathe. Kat realized acquiring these skills would look good on a future resumé. It was nearly summer, and she would finally be a full-fledged counselor at Camp CenterStage; adding “EMT certification” to her credentials would likely heighten her standing with the staff. But Kat had not yet reminded Seth of her commitment to work at theater camp that August. She had no idea how her Master would respond when she finally did.
—
Kat was still trying to fulfill Seth’s desire to bring another woman to bed, and so she asked Wendy,* another good high school friend, over. As before, the plan was to watch a movie and see what happened afterward. When Kat extended the invitation, Wendy wanted to know if she could bring her boyfriend. Kat ran the idea past Seth, who nixed it.
“Just say I’m skittish and only willing to meeting one new person at a time.”
Wendy wanted to know more about “Lex.” Kat again asked Seth how she should respond. He wanted her to play up to Wendy how dark he was, how he’d “seen things” in life. Kat asked if she could tell Wendy that someone had died in Seth’s arms, thinking it might seal the deal. Seth approved.
Kat told investigators that when Wendy arrived at Sawyer Mill, “Lex” offered everyone apple cider and movie snacks. The three of them then sat on the floor rather than on the unfolded futon and watched a film.
As the movie went on, Seth and Kat climbed back on the futon and began to make out. Wendy turned to investigate the noise and giggled to see that Seth had pulled off Kat’s shirt. Seth turned to stare soulfully at Wendy.
“I want to fuck my girlfriend,” he said, producing a condom from thin air. “Is that okay with you?”
Wendy stared back and nodded. Her head swiveled back and forth from the TV screen to the show happening behind her. The couple was naked, Seth taking Kat from behind as she braced herself on her hands and knees. As they had sex, they both stared at Wendy, wordlessly imploring her to join them.
Wendy turned around, took Kat’s face in her hands, and began to make out with her. They kissed each other’s necks and ears before returning to each other’s lips. Behind Kat, Seth announced his orgasm with a guttural grunt. The girls’ kisses tapered off and the encounter ended with awkward glances and stifled laughs.
It seemed all had gone according to plan. But on the scorecard, Kat had only gotten to first base with Wendy. Worse, there had been no sexual contact between Wendy and Seth. Although he was encouraged by their progress toward drawing in a minion, Seth told Kat he was disappointed that it had not been more of a “three-way.”
—
Seth had a female video gaming friend from his old pagan circle, Zoey,* who visited the Lair once in a while. Together, Seth and Zoey slashed their way through digital fantasy worlds as they sat on the floor sipping soft drinks and munching on snacks.
One night, Seth asked Zoey if she wanted to continue in one-player mode while he took a break. She pressed onward, thumbing the joystick and pressing the controller’s buttons. As they had with Wendy, Seth and Kat slid back onto the futon and began making out loudly. When they had captured Zoey’s attention, Seth asked whether she’d object to him having sex with his girlfriend in front of her.
Zoey turned away from the game and watched the couple as their clothes came off. With Seth lying on his back, Kat mounted him and began grinding. After spying them for a while, Zoey approached Kat from behind and ran her hands over Kat’s breasts. Kat moaned encouragement, pleading for Zoey to continue. There were also invitations for Zoey to do more, to give some attention to Seth, but she only massaged Kat’s breasts until Kat reached her climax. Afterward, Zoey offered shy apologies and polite regrets as she excused herself from the apartment.
Kat told Seth the sex was hot and thought the night was a victory. Seth was once again less than satisfied. Twice they’d drawn women into their bed, he complained, and both times all of their attention had been focused on Kat.
—
Seth decided not to limit his search to the few female friends the couple had. He opened accounts on dating sites both mainstream and obscure.
His profile on OKCupid bore the name “DarkKaiser,” but it wasn’t so different from the thousands of others on the site. It featured several color photographs of him and described him as a twenty-nine-year-old straight single male living in Dover. He described himself as “In a word, enigmatic,” and posted that he didn’t drink or do drugs, and his hobbies were “gaming” and “watching movies.” There was no indication he was into anything other than a conventional relationship.
Seth also posted a profile on an alternative matchmaking site called bondage.com, dedicated to connecting people with certain fetishes, like BDSM. Seth used the profile name “DarkKaiser” there as well, describing himself as a “master seeking slave,” interested in a “lifetime relationship, a play partner, princess by day, slut by night, a Sub.”
Kat was also active online, doing research to learn more about the BDSM lifestyle Seth had introduced her to. She later said that when she had questions, she’d write them down on Post-it notes and leave them on her computer so she wouldn’t forget what to look up.
Seth and Kat both created profiles on a site called fetlife.com, whose members self-identified as straight, bi, pansexual, heteroflexible, evolving—whatever term best fit their orientation. Categories of interest included “experimentalist,” “exhibitionist,” “brat,” and “degradation receiver.” Kinks listed on the site included everything under the sun: foot fetishes, leather and latex, cross-dressing, body shaving, forced womanhood, cosplay, nipple torture, flogging, and erotic cuddling.
Seth signed up on fetlife.com as “enigmaticshadows,” while Kat chose the handle “roguetemptress.” Their hope was to use the website to find women interested in getting together with couples. Their desire was to find someone willing to move in with them for sex, to be their maid, and to submit to being their minion.
The couple posted a personal ad on the fetish website hoping to find the perfect Slave for them. The ad was signed by Kat, but it’s unclear whether she was the sole author or—based on the unrealistic demands in the post—whether she was taking dictation.
Kat wrote that her “Lord” was the Dom and described herself as a “nymphomaniac switch.” She laid out their wish list: a Slave who would cook, clean, do the dishes, and “be available for some form of sex at any given time.” They would have a one-month “trial period,” after which the Slave could be terminated.
Despite the honest solicitation, there seemed to be no interest among fetlife users for such an arrangement.
—
Denise McDonough waited outside Portsmouth High School and scanned for her daughter among the stream of students exiting the doorways. She spied Kat, who looked both surprised and embarrassed to see her. Her mother still couldn’t wrap her head around why Kat had moved out and cut all ties with her family.
“Kathryn, come home,” she begged her daughter.
Denise offered to give Kat her own basement bedroom—secluded from the rest of the family—if she moved back in. There was something in Kat’s body language that revealed to Denise she was struggling with the decision.
“Okay,” Kat agreed. “Pick me up after work on Saturday. I’m closing. I’ll come home with you.”
Denise was thrilled and hugged her daughter.
That Saturday night, Denise sat in the Target parking lot and watched the last of the customers leave the building. She waited as employees in red shirts and tan pants exited the darkened store, but Kat was not among them. She flagged down one of the workers and asked if Kat was coming out soon.
“She didn’t come into work today. She called in sick.”
Denise couldn’t dial Kat’s number fast enough.
“Where are you? Why aren’t you here at work like you said?”
Kat’s voice wavered as she answered. She said she had cramps and hadn’t felt like working that day. Denise thought she could hear someone coaching her.
Kat suddenly blurted, “Stop stalking me!” and hung up on her mother.
Denise later told interviewers that she stared at her phone, gripping it until her fingers turned white.
“Oh, you want to see some stalking? Fine, I’ll show you some stalking.”
Denise called her sister and her father and asked if they’d go with her to Sawyer Mill to get Kat. She didn’t know what to expect from Seth, and she was willing to drag Kat out by her curly hair if necessary.
A friend of Denise’s who also lived in the complex let them into the building. When the elevator opened to the third floor, she marched straight down the hall, her father and sister struggling to keep up. Before rapping on the door, she could hear Kat and Seth inside talking and watching TV. When she knocked, their voices hushed, and Denise realized they were likely waiting for her to simply go away.
“I can hear you in there! Open the door!”
Denise knocked again, harder this time. After a few moments of murmuring from inside the apartment, Seth emerged in the doorway, blocking the threshold. Denise observed him puff out his chest in an effort to look more intimidating. Seth pulled the knob and closed the door behind him, leaving it open only a crack.
“I need to talk to Kathryn,” Denise said without any pretense of courtesy.
“No,” was all Seth said in reply.
Something inside Denise McDonough snapped. Her face turned red and the voice she had used for years to project from the stage was suddenly turned all the way up, booming down the building’s industrial hallway.
“I need to see her!”
“You can’t.”
Denise started jabbing a finger in the air at Seth.
“You’re a fucking pedophile!” she exploded. “You’re a fucking loser! You can’t get a girl your own age!”
That was enough to get other doors on the floor to swing open. Heads shot out. Eyes summed up the situation. Neighbors ducked back into their apartments to call the cops.
“You need to leave,” Seth said to Denise, his arms folded across his chest.
“Not until I talk to Kathryn!”
Seth remained unmoved.
“Hey,” said Denise’s father from over her shoulder. “Why are you being such an asshole?”
Hearing that, Kat pounced through the cracked door.
“Don’t you call my boyfriend an asshole!” she yelled at her grandfather.
Denise reached out and grabbed Kat’s hand.
“Kathryn. Just talk to me.”
Seth whined, “You’re going to steal her from me.”
“Kathryn, I just need to know why you’re doing this.”
Kat choked back a sob. “You don’t understand. I don’t want to live at home.”
Denise understood. She didn’t want to live at home either—but it was hardly an abusive or dangerous situation. And it was the far more appropriate place for her eighteen-year-old daughter.
“Fine, but this isn’t the right way. You can still date him. Go to school. Graduate. Find some girls your own age to move in with. But he”—she motioned to Seth—“needs to talk to your parents and be respectful.”
Kat shook her head in disagreement, but her body language betrayed her wavering commitment as she seemed to lean a bit toward her mother.
“Come on,” Denise said. “You want to sit on the floor and talk? Let’s just sit and talk.”
Denise moved slightly down the hall and slid down the wall to the floor. Kat followed and sat down across from her. The others gave them their space but watched protectively.
“What is going on? This isn’t you.”
Kat shrugged her shoulders. She couldn’t articulate why she felt the way she did. Mother and daughter sat weeping on the hallway floor.
“I can’t live at home. Dad is an immature bully.”
Denise rolled her eyes. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” She conceded that her husband’s behavior was often childlike, and she suppressed the desire to remind Kat that she was just as responsible for the constant bickering as her father was. Then, as if remembering the mission that brought her to Sawyer Mill, she told Kat something she thought would have an impact on her daughter, the girl who had always imagined a time in which her name would be displayed in lights.
“You have a bigger future than this, Kathryn. Don’t throw it away.”
The elevator doors opened then, and two Dover police officers walked down the hall, their utility belts jangling with equipment.
“What’s the problem here?”
Denise tried to plead her case as succinctly as she could to the officers, explaining how her teenage daughter had run away from home to live with Seth, a twenty-nine-year-old man.
“Guys, she’s still in high school.”
An officer asked Kat how old she was.
“Mama,” the cop said kindly when he heard Kat’s response, “she’s eighteen.”
Denise knew that was the end of the conversation, that in the eyes of the law, Kat was an adult. Denise was contrite though oblivious to the fact that she could have been arrested on a number of misdemeanor charges. She opened her arms, and mother and daughter hugged and kissed good-bye.
“I’m always your mommy,” Denise said. “I love you.”
The cops escorted her and her father and sister away as Kat and Seth disappeared behind the door, locking it behind them.
The officers stayed behind as the family got on the elevator. Denise apologized again and again to the policemen for the way she’d reacted.
“That’s okay, Mama,” said one of the cops. “I would have done the same thing.” As the elevator doors began to close, he added, “I would have done worse.”