Will has no interest in women. He thinks them all animals to be trained, beaten. It doesn't take him long to discover his preference for men, but time and error reveal how wrong view toward women is. Before long, he is able to separate the way he treats women, which is still horrific, from the way he regards women, as fellow human beings.
How does a slave become an equal? What does it take for a young man to see women in a new light?
In the fourth installment of her Blue Moon House series, Angelica introduces Will, a slave boy from the early nineteenth century. You can purchase Slave on Amazon, Smashwords, and Naughty Nights Press.
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. She is active on Facebook and Twitter.
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.
Here is an excerpt from Slave:
He wrapped a dark scarf over Will’s eyes and tied it over his ears as well. Will could still hear, but soft noises, like the creak of the wardrobe, would be much harder to make out. “Now, be ready, for anything.”
Will wasn’t sure how he could manage that, but he tried. He told himself something was coming. Something was going to touch him. He sucked breath through his teeth when it was hot. Something very warm was being pushed into his belly, just above his still erect penis. It wasn’t scalding, but very nearly. Whatever it had been was gone, and now cool moisture dripped down his back. Oil, he was sure, but odorless. He couldn’t be sure it wasn’t water.
He gasped and pulled against his bound arms, nearly losing his balance again. Water rushed down on him. The entire ewer had been dumped upon him, drenching.
He felt softness on the backs of his legs and then a single point moving up his side, a fingertip.
He had just started to relax into the soft tingling when something cracked against his backside, flaring pain in his ass cheeks. He tried to sit back, cover the exposed skin, but Nicholas took hold of the ropes linking Will’s elbows and lifted him upright.
“Red. Tell me when you see red,” he tried to tell Will.
A second stroke landed near the first, offset just enough to not sting. He’d had punishers as careful. They made each stroke hit a slightly new area so that none hurt too much, but his entire backside burned in the same heated glow. Nicholas landed two more strikes before his lips closed on Will’s shoulder.
He groaned and leaned his head into Nicholas’, loving the feel of his soft lips, his wet tongue. Nicholas bit, and Will cried out as blood tried again to rush in and out of his penis, constricted by the leather binding him.
“More?” Nicholas asked, his hand brushing over the skin he had beaten.
The tingling made Will shudder and shake. “Yes! Yes, more!” He arched back, eager for more pain and the pleasure that rushed in behind it.
Nicholas placed his blows and then teased the skin, making Will long for release, and yet, as he was denied, he seemed to find higher planes of pleasure. He was floating somewhere that the pain couldn’t reach him. Pain was there, and he gritted his teeth against it, but it was lost in the fog of the pleasure.
“You are mine,” Nicholas said, his hand stroking Will’s penis. “Right now, I hold you completely.”
“Yes, Master,” Will answered, free in his captivity. His mind and heart were not bound to this body, they had escaped when escape seemed impossible.