Gentleman by Angelica Dawson

Blurb: Harrold lives an empty life. He has no joy in his marriage, no love of his work. His only reprieve is found at the hands of the whores, the ones he pays to beat and debase him. Upon being accepted into Blue Moon House, he learns the real cost for his desires, and what underlying need is really aching to be filled.

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Excerpt:

“Shall I find someone for you?”

“There seems to be someone here.” He smiled at Delores. She was several years older than him, perhaps even a decade, but her body still fit the mold her corset made for it. Harrold reached for the laces hanging from the base of it.

Crack. Harrold's hand snapped back. The erection that had been flagging rose again in his trousers.

“You think to touch me, sir? You think I'm still one of these girls for you to take on your knee?”

Crack. Harrold shuddered, sinking to his knees.

“Yes, kneel for me, gentle sir. Show me how low I can bring you.”

Crack.

“Kiss my slipper.”

Had he known, he'd have approached Delores sooner. This. This is what he wanted, what he needed. The freedom to be as low and as vile as he could. To be the opposite of what filled his days.

On his hands and knees, he put his lips to the embroidered fabric covering her foot. The feet slipped out of his sight and another slap of the belt landed on his bottom.

“Remove these.” Delores lifted the fabric from his rear, a cool breeze running over his warm, red skin.

He didn't rise, rocking back on his haunches and releasing the buttons of his fly.

“Cover that with your hand. There is a lady present.” The belt tapped on the front of his thigh, brushing his throbbing and dripping erection.

Taking himself in both hands, he closed his eyes. His head was pulled back by his dark curls and Harrold opened his eyes to Delores' blue ones. The leather tapped his cheek, the smell making him mad. His hand slid over his length, soft skin over hardness.

Crack. “You would stroke yourself in my presence?”

Crack. “Who do you think you are?”

Crack. “Who do you think is in command here?”

Crack. Harrold's hand didn't stop and after the fourth lashing, he screamed out, the throbbing erupting from him.

“You are a dirty man, Harry. I think you will enjoy Blue Moon House.”

Harrold braced himself on his hands and knees, shaking. “That was-”

“Only the beginning.” His belt landed on the floor beside him. The embroidered slippers turned, so he seized an ankle to stop her.

“Thank you.” He barely recognized his own rasping voice.

Bio: Angelica Dawson is the author of Blue Moon House, which has been in the top ten best-selling titles at Naughty Nights Press for over six months. She has also written two short stories, “The Highest Bidder” and “Leave Taking” which were each included in anthologies.

She contributes flash fiction to several blogging collectives and excerpts from work in progress can also be found on her blog (http://angelicadawson.blogspot.com). She is active on Facebook (http://facebook.com/authorangelicadawson) and Twitter (@angelicadawson)

She has been writing for several years and having sex a lot longer than that. Angelica is a wife, mother and environmental consultant. Her love of plants and the outdoors is not diminished by the bloodsucking hoards – mosquitoes and black flies, not vampires.