Dark Pleasures

By Ethan Radcliff

Gareth de Chaville was a Knights Templar. He devoted his life to fighting for what was just and true. He was twenty-eight years old when he tapped into the powers of bondage, discipline, dominance, submission, and sadomasochism. The lure overwhelmed him. He became a slave to the dark pleasures life had to offer.

He took what wasn’t rightfully his, a young noble woman named Hannah de Leroux. Love was supposed to be a thing of beauty not of darkness. For Gareth, love became an obsession.

This twisted love introduced him to sin. Thou shalt not covet a neighbor’s wife; a violation of the tenth commandment, and the one that opened the door to Gareth’s darkest of desires.

Redemption must be earned and sometimes the innocent become the pawn. Will Gareth lose Hannah to his darkness? Can Gareth escape the temptation of dark pleasures, or will love be his redemption?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bitten Press LLC
• Release date: Aug 23, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386825548

Ethan Radcliff

BIO: My name is Ethan Radcliff and I've been writing since I was a kid. I love creating and tried my hand at art, not bad, but not good enough. A guy's gotta eat. Through high school, I wrote erotic stories, kept them in a notebook and let a few girlfriends read them. I played football, baseball and ice hockey, but my brain never stopped thinking of sex. I guess most guys think about it all the time. I decided to put my thoughts into prose. I had been on face book for a while and never did anything interesting until I started to see all the writers. What really caught my attention were the poets, especially some of the ones posting erotic prose.  I was intrigued, men who were writing erotic romance, I knew it was time to get out the old notebook and throw on some poetry. I was surprised at the response. I’ve often been asked what inspires my writing. Sometimes it’s a photograph, a sunset or an attractive woman. The jiggle of a full ass or heavy breasts will set my mind in motion. Sometimes, out of nowhere, an idea will come to mind. I record and write down my thoughts constantly. I want to thank Bitten Press and the two lovely ladies who run it for encouraging me to go for it and I did. I also need to thank a very patient and lovely friend Kendall Blackburn Barnett who is my PA and putting up with my antics. I want to thank all the wonderful people who read what I write. And the lovely ladies who help get the word out there about my writing. As you know, I’m an elusive fellow, smiles, perhaps that’s part of my charm. Who knows what the future holds? My first short story is The Taming of Molly Jenkins. It’s hot. Is it based on personal experience? Don't we all pull from real life? The next short story is The Wait, Brit’s undoing...that I hope you'll enjoy. Since those early works, many more have evolved including a paranormal series, Desires of Blood, DOM, The Collaring of Molly Jenkins and my first novel A Man of Honor.  Two thousand and sixteen brings more full-length novels and I will always venture into new erotic genres. Thank you for listening and to all those who are enjoying my poetry, thank you. Ethan Radcliff

Book preview

Prelude

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Gareth de Chaville was the epitome of a Templar Knight. He wore a white surcoat emblazoned with the red cross of the Order. Over that, he wore a white mantel, which was assigned to the Templars at the Council of Troyes in 1129. The red cross, which was unique to a Templar Knight, was added to their robes at the launch of the Second Crusade in 1147. Beneath, he wore an expertly woven suit of chainmail, the armor favorited by Templars. And on his head, he donned a metal helmet, which covered the bridge of his nose. As was the rule, the white mantle was to be worn at all times, and a Templar was forbidden to eat or drink unless wearing it.

Gareth played by the rules, most of the time.

A strikingly handsome man, twenty-eight, with dark hair and dark eyes, he stood over six feet. He was solidly built and ranked as a Sergeant in the Order. Soon, he’d don a black tunic with the red cross on the front, signifying his station.

His devotion to God and the Order, he believed, was his salvation. A monk at the age of sixteen, he fought the demons, which haunted him, hard. Eventually, they took control of his body and in the end his soul.

There were flaws in his character that few were privy to. These flaws, established as a child, were dark. Shame and abuse from his mother shaped the man he became.

The pleasure he derived from the darkness set him aside from others. Gareth liked pain, and his sexual desires were connected to the need for pain. He enjoyed delivering the sting of a crop and the welts of a flogger as much as he enjoyed being the recipient. In his mind, the ultimate aphrodisiac was the fear of the discomfort, the agony of sweet erotic torture, and the need to control.

Since his induction into the Order, he inflicted the pain on himself. As his needs grew and, his desires became too hard for him to manage, he discovered another world in the darkest of brothels. In the dark dismal dungeons, he fed his carnal desires and learned there were others who craved the same.

Within in the erotic dungeons, he could let go of his inner most desires without being encumbered by emotions. Here he denied what he was. Here even God ceased to exist. Gareth believed he was unable to experience any kind of emotion.

In the world of the Templar, he quelled his dark needs constantly. Locked away, deep inside were his wants and his desires. Meeting the lovely Hannah de Leroux unleashed emotions foreign and unfamiliar to him...

Somehow the beautiful wife of Frances de Leroux, a rich French lord, turned his world upside down.

Hannah de Leroux became the catalyst.

She made him travel down a road of lust and yearning. She made him feel. Gareth never wanted to feel...he only wanted to play out his needs. When in the confines of the darkness, he became another. The Templar Knight, who gave his life to God, ceased to exist. Instead, in his place was a man who reveled in debauchery.

Once Hannah came into his life, he had a scapegoat. He had her to blame for his fall from grace, condemning her seductive ways and lush, full body. These were the tools she used to cause him to shatter his vows of celibacy.

And in the darkness of the dungeons, far more decadent than he would admit, he knelt in prayer after he’d fulfilled those dark desires. Night after night, he begged God for forgiveness and strength. A Templar Knight owed one allegiance, and that was to God. He was determined to keep those vows or some semblance of them. At least, the man he tried to project did. He wondered if he’d ever find solace or peace.

How easy it was to fault Hannah de Leroux, for all his darkness, even though he was a troubled soul long before he ever met her. Always hidden from the world was the man who frequented the darkest of brothels. A façade of purity and a loyal Templar Knight during the day, Gareth was only fooling himself.  

Chapter One

The shape of darkness

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A sharp crack of the tendrils of the flogger echoed through the dank air. The tall, naked, dark-haired woman bent over him.

Tell me, do you want more? she whispered in his ear.

Yes, yes, you must make me feel the pain.

The flogger found its mark one more time.

Tell me, are you hard for me?

Yes, I’m bursting with need.

Good boy, soon, I will let you come. Do you want more pain?

Yes, bitch, hurt me.

Once more she let the tendrils snap on his back.

Ah fuck, he yelled. He raised one arm and grabbed the flogger from her hand and rose.

His naked body was hard and muscled. His cock jutted out, hard and large.

We’re not done yet, are we? he snarled.

Oh no my Lord, she gasped as her eyes roved his aroused body.

Now down on your knees and suck me dry.

She sunk down onto the cold, hard stoned floor and slipped his erection into her mouth. His head lulled back. Behind him appeared another female, smaller and also naked. She knelt behind him.

Sir? she asked.

Get that pretty little tongue inside my crack. And don’t forget my balls.

His hands were now tangled in the woman’s hair before him, his cock bobbing in and out of her mouth. With his eyes closed and his back on fire, he let his body go. His cock exploded and jerked, his cream filled the woman’s mouth before him. Behind him, the smaller female licked vigorously at his crack and balls.

When she took her tongue from him, she asked. Sir, may I help clean you?

Yes, he answered.

The two females sucked and licked him clean. When they were done, he pushed them both away. I need to get back to Jerusalem. You have both done well.

The dark-haired one now stood before him and held out her hand. He placed a few gold coins in it.

And as always, my Lord, you pay well, she said as she bowed her head.

He exited the dark dungeon, grabbing his clothes, so he could dress quickly. He had to get back, King Baldwin had summoned him. He left, never once turning back to look at either female.

****

In the beginning, he had a few instances when his cock ruled his mind as well as his body. Inside, he was like a boiling cauldron, the vapor building and looking for a way to escape. With self-discipline, he learned to fight his intense carnal urges, and for years, he never violated his oath as a Knight Templar. By doing so, he kept his soul clean and Satan at a safe distance. He believed this with all of his dark, troubled soul.

Gareth DeChaville stood a head taller than most men. His dark brooding handsome face was hard to ignore. With hair as dark as night, eyes to match, he could intimidate any man with a frown or an intense leer. He commanded respect and used what he’d been given as an asset to serve God.

However, he fought an inner battle on a daily basis. It was a battle that if left unchecked would lead him down a path to self-destruction. He practiced self-discipline and had been trained when he was a monk. He had the self-inflicted scars on his back as proof of his faith and determination to remain chaste.

As the years passed, his urges continued to grow. His nightly dreams were highly erotic visions which became arousing. Putting all of his energies into his training, he managed to exhaust himself and refrain from letting his desires rule him. Celibacy was a serious commitment and part of his oath as a Knights Templar.

Then one night, he had a very disturbing dream. He awoke in a pool of sweat. Memories of his childhood materialized. He recollected the first time he awoke as a small boy aroused and aching for relief. The dream recalled how, as a child, he innocently touched and played with his cock.

He sat up, wiping his brow, trying hard not to think about his past. He’d locked away those memories, and why now had they come back to haunt him?

He sat up and cradled his head in his hands, trying not to think. His memories won out.

When he was young, and like most ten-year old boys, idle hands found and discovered his morning erection. Fondling himself became a constant source of amusement. His first climax nearly caused him to faint. After the pleasure of that day, he became obsessed. However, thinking back, that’s the day he believed evil entered his soul. Though a child, he was a devout Christian, and his faith in good and evil were heightened. Perhaps his journey into darkness began then.

Fondling himself became a daily occurrence. Then one afternoon, his mother caught him. No mercy was shown as she beat him, unmercifully, with a large metal spoon. 

After the first round of strikes, she fell to her knees in prayer. He tried to crawl away from her, but she caught him. You will pray with me! she chided. He gladly prayed, hoping she’d stop his thrashing. After a round of prayers, she beat him again. Over and over again, she repeated the abuse, telling him what he’d done was a sin and the pain would cleanse his soul. Next came the onslaught of mental abuse, calling him evil, a Godless creature, disgusting, and then a sermon about his soul and Satan.

That little cock of yours is evil, she hissed. If you continue to touch yourself, you will open the door for Satan. You must never allow yourself to experience the pleasure. You must replace it with pain 

Then, she made him kneel, naked, and pray to God with her, asking for forgiveness. He was mortified and embarrassed. The damage was done. She’d bent his young mind and made him connect the pain he was experiencing with God.

The pleasure you obtain from your dalliances brings Satan. He’ll snatch your soul and lead you on a path of sin and damnation. You must never touch yourself again, and if you do you must suffer the consequences. When you feel the pain, goodness has a chance to redeem you. she told him sternly.

Gareth let his tears run down his cheeks Please mother, I want God’s forgiveness. I don’t want to go to Hell, he cried.

His mother rarely took him into her arms and comforted him. This day was no exception. Then Gareth, you must fight the urges. This is God’s will.

He never forgot her words. All he ever wanted to do was please her and God.

As he matured, the anger and frustration built up inside. The constant hammering at him, telling him one day, he’d wed and his rod would be needed to bring forth a new generation and nothing more. By the time he was sixteen, he left, never looking back, to join a monastery. This he was sure was God’s will. There would never be a marriage bed for him.

At eighteen, he left the small monastery he’d become part of and ventured to Jerusalem. There he joined another Order, that of the Knights Templar, and vowed to fight evil in the name of God. He grew strong and fierce and could wield a heavy sword. He found his niche. There, he won the favor of the ruling King of Jerusalem, King Baldwin.

The rules were the same as a Templar; self-gratification was a sin. Celibacy was their way of life. However, not indulging in self-gratification became harder as time went on.

One morning, waking aroused and needy, he gave into temptation. He rubbed his erection and wondered, if he pulled hard, would his ardor settle down? How wrong he was, his pulling only made him harder. Defiantly, he gripped his cock hard trying to make his actions painful. He became even more aroused. Was it possible he enjoyed the pain? His erection roared on.

He knocked his head against his meager pillow and closed his eyes. He willed his sexual arousal away. His grip tightened on his cock, and he continued to rub himself. Both hands took his erection and vigorously worked the skin up and down the shaft. He pushed aside the foreskin so he could see the glistening head. He gritted his teeth. He couldn’t stop. He needed release. So he sped up his actions and lost control.

Stroke after hard stroke, he worked on his cock, and when he thought he couldn’t take the deep gnawing in his belly or the hardening of his balls, his cock jerked and pushed his juices free. His heels dug into the foot of the bed, and his hips rose. His cock jerked again.

Fuck! he yelled. By the grace of God and all that is holy, fuck! he said again as his cum squirted over his hand and his abdomen. Still holding his semi-hard dick, he pumped and pumped until there was nothing left to pump. Now spent and his brain overheated, the flood gates of guilt opened.

Gareth could only stare at the rough wood of the ceiling in his small quarters. He couldn’t move or let go of his sated member. His breathing was labored, and his heart beat almost out of the confines of his chest.

God, God, he whispered. Damn me to hell, he said into the darkness of his small room.

The punishment for self-gratification was a penance of fifty hard lashes with a leather flogger, which had to be self-inflicted. The hardest part would be confessing his sin to the Grand Master, Terrance Bourdex.

The rough linen night shirt he wore was pushed up over his cock. He pulled it over his head rendering him naked before the crucifix. He went to his knees. The leather, tethered flogger lay before him, alongside a bowl of holy-water. His eyes scanned over the blocks of the cold stone floor, as he concentrated on his sin. The rough edges of the stones cut into his knees, a reminder of what was yet to come. The wooden door creaked open.

I’ve come to get you for morning prayers, said the elder Monk.

Eyes downward, he couldn’t find the strength to raise his head to address the Grand Master. I have sinned and affronted my God.

What sin is so great that you find it necessary to be punished so harshly?

The pleasures of the flesh have always been my nemesis. This morning I gave into forbidden desires. I need to do penance.

I see you’ve prepared yourself. I commend you, said Bourdex. Would you like me to begin, show you how this is done?

Gareth kept his head down. He didn’t want the Grand Master to see the fear in his eyes. Yes, though I have inflicted self-discipline before, I never had another, since joining the Order, inflict punishment on me. he answered.

Bourdex took the flogger. We all have our moments. We are, after all men, created by him, and we all suffer from the need to have gratification. Stay on your knees and open your mind. Take deep breaths and pray to God. Remember each strike cleanses you. Wipes desire from your body and mind. The pain will bring you closer to divinity.

Bourdex moved behind him and ran a hand down the skin of his back. The first strike will sting, and you will want to get up and run. But remember your sins. Think of his pain and how he suffered for you. We are his army. We must stay chaste.

Gareth squeezed his eyes closed as he waited for the flogger to land on his skin.

Bourdex struck him.

Ahh, Gareth yelled. God! he added and kept his head lowered.

Yes, God, yelled Bourdex and then threw the flogger to the floor. He bent down beside Gareth. "Does it hurt? Have I succeeded in