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 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.
Angelica 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.
Today, Angelica talks about her latest work, something that deserves a good shout about - Slave.
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.
He turned his scarf-wrapped head toward the voice. Nicholas had worked his deal out with Sophia, and Will had spent more than one evening relishing the feel of a warm cock in his ass, and others using a replica.
That voice didn’t belong to Nicholas, though. “Ma’am?” he asked.
“What would you do with a woman?” A gentle hand wrapped around his shaft. It must have been covered in oil, because it slipped even more smoothly than Martha’s soft, white one.
He breathed through his teeth, fighting the reaction. He didn’t like women. He wanted a strong hand, not a soft one. What would he do with a woman? “Beat her.”
“What if she beat you?” His length was dropped, and a hand connected with his ass, making him flinch.
“That isn’t right.” He wasn’t sure how to explain.
“No? You seem to like it.” There was another smack and he hopped a little, trying to get away.
“Hold still,” she ordered, grabbing his sack and gripping.
He grabbed for her wrist and held his breath, afraid she’d tear it off. Was it Lynn or Sophia? He wasn’t sure by the voice. His guess was Sophia.
“Better.” She relaxed her grip and rubbed the balls in her hand.
Will’s face puckered, still unhappy with the turn of events. He was supposed to be with Nicholas. That was who had tied this scarf over his eyes.
“You are in my hand,” she explained. “Just like all my other pets.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” he agreed, submissive.
“Is anyone in your hand?”
He frowned, not understanding.
She clarified. “Can you do this to anyone?” she asked, slapping his thigh and making him jump. That resulted in a painful tug on his nuts, and he whimpered as he tried to hold still.
“No,” he answered once he had his head again.
“No whores that you can control, punish, beat?”
“Because I am alone here.”
“Wrong answer.” She tugged once before slapping the opposite thigh.
Will managed to stay on his feet, though his head ducked and his nose touched the hair of the woman holding him.
“Why do you not have a whore?”
“Because I am a slave.”
“No.” She slapped his face this time, but thankfully, left his nuts alone.
“Because none come to me.”
“Yes.” She sighed, stroking now.
The sudden pleasure after the pain made his knees shake. He reached out to steady himself, but found only the woman. He didn't want to lean on her.
“You are a good boy, Will. You have simply been taught poorly. White women, black women, white men, and black men, we are all people. We all feel pain.” She gripped him again, but not as hard as before. “We all feel pleasure.”