Thursday, 10 July 2014

Thursday Taster - Gentleman #2

Following up on last week, I have a sample from the second Blue Moon House prequel, Gentleman.

And remember, once you've indulged in my sample, share the love and visit all the other authors offering their own taste. Thursday Tasters Blog

"How serious are you about this, Harrold?”
Harrold had asked the girls to call him Harry, and worse things, in their bedrooms but Delores had only ever called him Mister Long or sir.
“Serious about what?”
“The abasement, the pain. Are you sure they are what you want?”
He thought about Veronica, her icy eyes and fingers, the way she called him Harrold and Husband as though he were just another object. No fire, no passion in Veronica, just constant demands. She wore him down faster than a belt with no release at the end. Erosion, not a landslide. A low simmer instead of a raging boil.
“It's not enough, Delores. It simply isn't enough.” He might lie with one of her girls, but without this first, it was empty. Hollow.
Delores rubbed cream into his burned wrists, erasing the marks from the ropes. “Then you should meet with her. Come again Thursday. She'll be here then.”
“Who is she?” he asked.
“Have you heard of Blue Moon House?”
Harrold frowned. All of the whore houses had names. This was Peach House; down the block were Rose House and Black Tea House. He'd never heard of one called Blue Moon though.
“You are about to be initiated,” Delores said, collecting her things. She picked up his belt as she put things away.
“Initiated? What kind of whores are they?”
“They are not whores. They will take your money, should you give it, but ask for nothing except obedience. You would be a slave to them.”
“And pay for the privilege?” he asked amused.
“Yes, for they know exquisite torture. I was once in the House. That is why I can invite Lynn. The House is secret, Harrold. It is only for those who want what they offer, who want this.” She brought the leather of his belt down on his thigh, making him wince.
“I'll be back on Thursday,” he agreed.
“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.

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