Free Laura Meets Jeffrey by Jeffrey Michelson, Laura Bradley Page B

gentle, affectionate Janet I knew her to be. After a few minutes, she slipped back into her business persona, rolled me over on my belly and spanked me hard and true, each crack a testament to her professionalism. I refused to ask her to stop. I got into the rhythm of the pain, but I didn’t enjoy it. It was more like hazing than sex.
    She finally stopped and checked to see if I was hard. I wasn’t. How could I be? I was in the middle of testing my pain threshold. I did get real hard soon after and had one of the best fucks ever with Janet. But I never gave it much thought or attached any special meaning to it. And never wanted to do it again.
    Nor did I give much thought to that first whipping of Laura, at the time. I certainly have since.
    Maybe it was my high testosterone?
    Maybe it was atavistic caveman courtship?
    Maybe excessive dominance medicated my insecurity?
    Maybe submission medicated her insecurity?
    Maybe I chose not to think about the implications, but the line between the conscious and subconscious is not a hard frontier with armed guards. I believe that thoughts and moods slide between the obvious and the unknown. I knew I was travelling somewhere more dangerous than merely naughty—some place where metaphysics meets the road­­—but being a successful sadist was never my goal. It never appeared in my catalog of fantasies of rock star, football hero, movie star, or even in my occasional daydream of being a pimp.
    I wanted Laura. I needed her flesh, her taste. I was willing to pay the price. I was slave to her desires. My lust for her was stronger than my morality. I was willing to go to the dark side.

13
    Laura moves in
    Late June 1980
    â€œThis guy, this very, very rich man,” Laura confides, “had asked me if I would go to Greece with him. I was like, ‘Yeah, I’ll definitely go to Greece with you. ’
    â€œ The guy said, ‘Okay, look, I have to go to Florida, and then I’m gonna come back and I’ll pick you up and then we’ll head off to Greece. ’
    â€œIn between that time I met Jeffrey,” Laura continues, “and we just could not get out of bed. We couldn’t get out of bed for days and days. We just stayed in bed. I blew off everything. Basically all we did was fuck.
    â€œI wanted him to be in complete control. I wanted to have that feeling of him being in absolute complete control. And just completely giving myself over to him; maybe it was religious or something, it was similar in vibe.
    â€œLike a religious fanatic.
    â€œSo the rich guy calls from Florida,” Laura resumes her story, “and I was in bed with Jeffrey and the rich guy was like, ‘Look, I’m coming back up. You’re still definitely going to come to Greece with me?’
    â€œAnd I said, ‘ Oh, yeah I’ll go to Greece with you.’
    â€œJeffrey overheard this and he freaked out. When I got off the phone he said, ‘You’re not going to Greece with some other guy. I’ll take you to Greece. I don’t want you to go with him. You can’t go with him.’
    â€œSo the rich guy came back to New York and I wouldn’t even see him,” Laura laughs, “Jeffrey wouldn’t even let me out of the bed. I mean, it’s not like he prevented me, I mean, I chose not to go, because the sex was so good! Yes, Jeffrey did own me at that point. His penis was the perfect size and the hardest I ever met. And it stayed hard and got hard again right away after he came. He owned me. His cock owned me. It was like I had given myself over to him. It was my choice to be owned by him.”
    The night finally arrives when Laura brings her stuff from Mark’s apartment and moves in with me. I help carry in her two suitcases and two duffle bags. Her entire wardrobe is tie-dyed, paisley, patched denim, or well worn cotton with a splash of working girl slut clothes and a few traditional skirts and blouses in case she has