Diddy Trial Day 20: Love Contracts, Foot Rubs & The Freaky Trifecta

UPDATE:

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Jane is still testifying. If you haven’t been keeping up, she’s been on the stand four days straight — more than any other witness so far. And today, she had a lot to say.

From Dateline marathons after sex parties to Diddy blurring the lines between abuse and affection, it’s safe to say his manipulation tactics really put a number on Jane.

Anyways, we’ve got a lot to unpack so let’s dive in.

Not the post freakoff Dateline recovery

According to Jane, after a long night of freakin off she’d be expected to massage his feet, bathe him, and cue up his favorite show (you guessed it) — Dateline — like some kind of post-orgy concierge.

Mhm, nothing says romance like true crime and foot rubs after a sex marathon. She even described how she’d feed him while he lounged like a pharaoh. I can’t right now.

The price of love (and rent)

Jane also reminded the court that her relationship with Diddy came with a price. What she called a “love contract” if you will. What did that deal come with? A $10,000-a-month rent check. Oh, and he’s also paying her attorney fees during this trial. Yes, the one she’s testifying against him in.

Must be nice? I don’t know. Either way despite the financial perks, she said that the money came with strings. Mainly the constant threat that he could yank it at any time. But are we surprised? Diddy probably been weaponizing rent payments for a while now.

After 3 years Jane estimated the total payment during the love contract to be about $150k altogether. Fascinating.

The freak ass NBA trifecta

What’s wilder? The post game freakoff jargon. At some point, the hotel nights apparently got a rebrand. And Jane says Diddy started calling them “the trifecta”—because nothing says a healthy relationship like comparing your sex life to an NBA dream team.

According to her, Diddy was Michael Jordan, the male escort was Shaq, and she was Kobe. (Yes, really.) Somewhere in that mess, Diddy decided he was the MJ of cucks all around the world. The 6 championship ring wearer of watching his girlfriend sleep with other men. The defensive all time player of rubbin male nut all over his nipples.

What the fuck.

How much does my body cost?

During cross-examination, Diddy’s defense attorney Mark Geragos tried to paint Jane as someone who traded sex for luxury. He implied that she accepted designer handbags—specifically Bottega Veneta, in exchange for participating in those infamous hotel nights.

He asked if she knew how much a Bottega bag cost.

“I’m sure you have one.” Jane said.

When he pressed again and asked how much a Bottega costs, she fired back with the quote of the day:

“How much does my body cost?”

Damn. Not exactly the slam dunk the defense was hoping for.

My thoughts

Let’s talk about that “love contract” real quick. Yeah, it sounds wild—$10K-a-month rent, legal fees covered, all while you’re dodging emotional landmines and MDMA fog—but honestly?

I wouldn’t be surprised if this type of arrangement is standard issue in the entertainment world.

Shieeeet. You think wigs, drank, and Turks & Caicos trips pay for themselves? Please. There’s probably a spreadsheet somewhere for this stuff.

What really stuck out to me, though, was Jane playing nurse after those hotel nights. Not just physically drained—emotionally wiped, too—but still feeding him, massaging his feet, putting on Dateline like it’s a bedtime lullaby?

That’s not just manipulation, that’s care warped into submission.

Now, you already know what the defense is gonna do with that. They’re gonna try to frame her as some scorned lover, still obsessed, still in love, and now trying to get even.

But what they’re not gonna say is how this same woman had to curl into a ball in her home to protect herself during a beating… then still found herself back in his bed. That’s not revenge. That’s conditioning.

A final note

If you have strong thoughts about the Diddy trial and read my newsletter often, reply back with some thoughts.

Til then,

KP