Thursday 17 July 2014

Thursday Tasters - Gentleman #3

I know, I know, another excerpt from Gentleman... I'll change it up soon, promise. Find more interesting and varied things by visiting the blog.

“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.
“Would you like Miranda? To help clean you up?”
“No. I can't stay.” He stood, pulling up his pants.
“You are always welcome here, Mister Long. However, I think you need more than we can offer.”
Harrold rolled his shoulders, trying to shake off the discomfort of heading home. “Oh, I think you might offer more, Delores.”
Her lips, lined with fine wrinkles, curled up. “I might, but Lynn will offer so much more.”
He pulled on his shirt, stepping between Delores and the door. “You were in Blue Moon House. They did this to you?”
Her blue eyes narrowed slightly. Then she bared her teeth in a predatory smile. “I can tell you nothing. No one may tell the secrets of Blue Moon House.” Delores swept her skirts past him and out the door. “Thursday,” she reminded him.

You've tasted, go try some more.