P-Diddy and Coerced 'Consent'

Over the past several months, the public has followed the legal drama surrounding Sean “P. Diddy” Combs—music mogul and industry icon behind stars like Usher and Justin Bieber. But beyond the headlines and celebrity status, serious allegations emerged: sex trafficking and racketeering.

As the case unfolded, disturbing allegations of abuse, manipulation, and sexual violence surfaced across social media and news outlets. The prosecution built its case largely on the testimonies of two women—Cassie and “Jane”—both former partners of Combs. They detailed a pattern of grooming, coercion, physical violence, and psychological abuse that occurred during their relationships with him (all of which are common tactics survivors of human trafficking can experience).

The defense, in contrast, focused on casting doubt on the credibility of these witnesses by presenting messages in which the women appear to show enthusiasm for Combs’ abusive sexual fantasies. The implication: their willingness invalidated claims of trafficking or abuse. The defense argued that if the women didn’t want to participate, they should have simply said “no” or left the relationship.

But that’s the heart of the problem.

The prosecution contended that the women’s apparent compliance was not consent—it was survival. Saying “yes” under threat of violence, career sabotage, or fear of retaliation is not genuine consent. Still, in the absence of hard evidence proving force, fraud, or coercion, the defense prevailed.



And so the question lingers: What does consent really mean?

A coerced “yes” is not consent. “I have to say yes because I’m scared of what will happen if I say no” is NOT consent. But proving coercion—especially psychological or emotional—is incredibly difficult in a courtroom. 

So, where is the hope?

The hope begins in awareness. In conversations like this. In dismantling the myth that trafficking always looks like someone chained in a basement. In recognizing that manipulation, fear, and power imbalance can all be tools of exploitation—and that consent, to be real, must be freely given. We need to understand that traffickers exploit vulnerabilities—emotional, financial, relational—and that survivors often stay not because they want to, but because they feel they have no choice.

Working with survivors at Naomi’s House has shown me that healing doesn’t require facing a trafficker in court. For many, the journey begins not with legal justice, but with encountering the love of Jesus. True restoration is found not only in earthly justice, but in the eternal freedom Christ offers. It is a sacred privilege to walk with survivors as they move toward His love. We've witnessed survivors forgive because they know they are forgiven, choose baptism as a response to grace, and love others deeply because they’ve been pursued by God’s relentless love.

So when you hear stories like these, what role do you play? Are you the one asking, “Why didn’t she leave?” Or are you the one asking, “What made her feel like she couldn’t?”

Blythe Struck

Executive Director