Twisted Oak: A Sexual Odyssey (17 page)

BOOK: Twisted Oak: A Sexual Odyssey
6.97Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

“Pretty good?” Talisman said incredulously. “I’m the best in the square.”

“Okay, I suppose so,” I said.

“Come sit, my dear,” Talisman said, so I sat in the folding chair opposite him. A folding card table covered in a black bedsheet separated us. On the table were a deck of tarot cards, a candle inside a piece of clear glass to block it from the wind, a couple of beat-up spiral notebooks, a crystal ball, and incense.

“Give me your hands,” he said, so I lay both my hands on the table. He held them and continued. “Hands not made for manual labor; no farmers or carpenters in your family.” He turned them over and examined my palms. “Sorry about your dad,” he said.

I was astonished that he knew something about my dad.

“Don’t worry about it. You’re better off not knowing him and it doesn’t look like he’ll ever be a part of your life. I’m just saying that so you won’t have false hope. I’m here to help you, not upset you.”

He was not telling me anything I did not know about my father, but it was curious that he knew the situation.

“No siblings, I see. When’s your birthday?”

“May 15th, 1964,” I said reluctantly.

“Don’t worry, everything we discuss is confidential, I assure you.” He went to his notebooks for reference. “Do you happen to know what time you were born?”

“I think maybe in the afternoon sometime.”

He looked at my palms again and ran his crooked finger along the center of my right hand, from my middle finger down to my wrist. He lightly rubbed his dry fingertip where Mr. Delacroix’s ropes had been.

“A gentleman has captured your heart,” he said as he lightly tapped the spot, “and you are bound thus.” He looked me in the eye and I noticed his left eye clouded with cataracts. “You’ll follow this man, but you won’t go far from here. New Orleans is your home now.”

I looked at Sunny and he smiled. “I told you he was good.”

Talisman’s finger followed the crease back up the center of my hand to my middle finger. “You’ve lived a long time, cher, a very long time. See here?” He indicated a break in the crease. “You’ve got a few lifelines.”

“You mean like reincarnation?”

“Sure, if that is what you believe. It’s beyond my scope to get into beliefs and interpretations. I can only tell you what I see, and I see something broken early, a time of either loneliness or loss. Either your mother is dead, or she’s abandoned you, or you lost your family. Something caused you to be alone.”

Was he talking about me or Monique? I supposed it could be either one of us.

“Here it picks up again very strong. A happier time, I suspect. See how life is? How it changes us? You’ll marry twice but only after your love, this gentleman, dies.” He tapped my wrist again. “See here?” He pointed to another break in the line. “This is a widow’s line.”

I must have looked distressed because he quickly interjected, “Don’t worry, this is far into the future. You’ll have a long life with him and the widow’s line doesn’t last too long because someone’s there—a good friend, a friend for the rest of your life. You’ll marry him and you’ll grow very old together.”

He ran his fingertip from the outside by my pinky to the area above my thumb, his scraggy, thin nail lightly scratching my palm. “Look here,” he said with a smile, “you’re gonna have four children. The first one will be a boy followed by two girls and then another boy.”

He flipped my hand over again and examined the back. “You’ve got some travels in your future too.”

“Will I be happy?”

“That’s completely up to you. Happiness resides in the heart. Others can’t make us happy, only we can do that. If I was an advice-giving man, I’d tell you to keep things simple and value your family and the rest will fall into place. Be gracious and thankful. From where I sit, you’ve got a very fulfilling future ahead of you.”

“Thank you,” I said.

“Aw, girl, you’re welcome. He’s a lucky man.” He tapped my wrist again. “He cherishes you.”

“Does he love me?”

Sunny put his hand on my shoulder, urging me to leave.

“He’d give his life for you,” Talisman’s voice was grave, “but be careful with him, my girl. He’s powerless in your love.”

Sunny put thirty dollars on Talisman’s table. “Keep the change, Tali. You’ve outdone yourself.”

“Thank you, Sunny. Enjoy the day.”

17.

The apartment was as we had left it, except for the briefcase on the sofa and the closed bedroom door. I could hear Mr. Delacroix’s voice in muffled groans, and another man’s voice too. I glanced at Sunny.

“Sometimes Mr. Scott comes to town,” Sunny said.

“I know, Auntie told me, but I figured he wouldn’t come with me here.”

“Don’t forget, Miss Nez. Mr. Scott dominates Mr. Delacroix. He’ll come here when he wants to.”

I felt jealous that he was in my bedroom. “I didn’t realize he would just come in here and act like that’s his bedroom.”

“I know how you feel, but don’t worry. That room and that bed are still yours and Mr. Delacroix’s. The best thing for you is to get over it. This is nothing but an obligation for Mr. Delacroix, nothing more.”

“Like when you have sex with Mr. Delacroix?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

The thought of Sunny and Mr. Delacroix having sex excited me. I felt that familiar dampness between my legs.

“It’s a real turn-on to think about them fucking,” Sunny said as we sat on the balcony. “Mr. Scott is an excellent lay. He’s experienced and knows all the right buttons and he’s got a great dick. I guess that is where Mr. Delacroix gets it.”

“Kinda like you and Mr. Delacroix, mentor and protégé?”

“Yeah, some skills are best passed down to the next generation. Damn, this makes me hard.” He unzipped his pants and his dick stood straight up.

“God, Sunny,” I said, somewhat embarrassed, but very aroused.

“You can’t say you aren’t excited,” he smiled. “Who knows? Maybe if we’re lucky, we’ll get part of the action.” He zipped up and rubbed himself, but quickly stopped. “It’s been a long time since Mr. Delacroix fucked me, a real long time.”

“I’m sorry. I feel like that’s my fault,” I said.

“It’s okay. It’s not like I didn’t see this coming, and I fuck Ty anytime I want, but I miss being dominated. It’s hard to explain. I guess when things are a certain way for so long, it’s hard to change.”

“I was reading Monique’s journal about how she missed being tied up while she was pregnant. How it was difficult for her to climax without his domination. She said being dominated gave her security and comfort, and I get that now.”

“I know he’s got Mr. Delacroix all tied up in knots right now. I’d give anything to be in that situation. I miss it to hell.” Sunny’s hand went to his crotch again and I gave him a look that said he better not, so he grabbed my hand and put it there.

“Hey!” I said as I pulled my hand away. “You’re supposed to be Mr. Self-Control.”

“Can’t help it, I’m horny,” Sunny sulked.

The bedroom door slammed and Sunny and I both jumped. I turned to see a bronzed, well-built man, shirtless, with dress pants unzipped. His blond hair was dappled with gray at the temples. Large, deep brown eyes that resembled a doe’s offset his aquiline features. He moved in stealthy silence. He lifted his briefcase from the sofa with nary an acknowledgment of Sunny or me and went back into the bedroom.

“Just you wait, Miss Nez. That guy is the best fuck you’ll ever have.”

“You’re pretty confident he’ll fuck me.”

“Oh, he will, you can count on that—and you’ll love it. God damn, I could blow my wad just thinking about it.” He sipped his tea from a trembling hand. “Let’s just hope when they’re done doing whatever, we can get in on some action.”

“Like a group thing? I dunno, Sunny, I’ve never done anything like that.”

“Don’t worry. Stop overthinking everything. It’s just fucking, for god’s sake. I better go change.”

He got up and went toward his bedroom and I followed.

“You don’t have to come with me,” he said quietly over his shoulder.

“Yeah, I do, otherwise you’ll jack off.”

“You fucking bitch,” he smiled. Sunny took his shirt off and dropped his pants to reveal a painfully hard penis. It was all I could do not to jump on it. It was a sweet feeling, one of delicious anticipation. He slipped on some silk pants, the color of his famous coffee.

“I guess I can’t change because I don’t have anything out here to change into,” I said. “Will Mr. Delacroix be angry if I’m still in my street clothes when he comes out?” I worried about displeasing Mr. Delacroix. I wanted him to look good in front of Mr. Scott and I wanted him to be proud of me.

“I think I have something left over from when you were sick. I hung it up after I had it cleaned and forgot about it. I think I left it in here.” Sunny rummaged through his armoire. “Here, look, this is perfect.” He held a silk butter-colored teddy in his hand. “Truth be told, I was saving this for Ty, but technically it’s yours and I doubt it would fit him.” He was serious, but I giggled at the thought of Ty wearing it. The furry white trim along the scalloped bottom came up in the front and back, offering a peek at my genitals, my backside. The neckline came to my nipples and the matching robe was transparent.

“That’s sexy as hell,” Sunny said as I examined myself in the mirror. “Now maybe we’ll get in on it.”

He and I both went into the living room. I sat on my pillow and he sat next to the fireplace cross-legged, picked up his guitar, and began to strum. “I swear in another life you were a troubadour,” I said admiringly. “I love to hear you sing.”

“Thank you, sweetness,” he said with a smile and kept playing.

“Boy, I’ve missed you out at Twisted Oak.” The voice was steady, comforting, and sexy. Mr. Scott was still shirtless. His pants were fastened but the belt hung loose. The sound of the buckle rattling as he came around the sofa entranced me.

“Thank you, sir,” Sunny said, but he did not look into Mr. Scott’s eyes.

I looked around for Mr. Delacroix.

“Don’t worry, Miss Nez, your master will join us momentarily. Sunny, I hear you’re flying solo these days.”

“Technically, Mr. Scott, I still belong to Mr. Delacroix.” Sunny’s eyes were on me.

“Nez, do you know who I am?” Mr. Scott asked.

“Yes, sir,” I said.

“Are you pleased to meet me?” He sat down on the sofa where Mr. Delacroix usually sat. My heart was racing and I wanted to run away. Sunny’s eyes told me to stay put.

“Yes, sir, I’m very pleased.”

“How do you like the city?” he asked, petting my head. I heard Mr. Delacroix’s voice in my head telling me to stop wiggling, so I tried to be still.

“I like it very much, Mr. Scott. It’s beautiful, and so full of rich history.”

“Are you aware of the family history?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Knowledge is power, Nez.”

“Yes, sir.”

He got up and approached Sunny. “Stand up, boy.”

“Yes, sir,” Sunny said and set his guitar carefully aside. Mr. Scott swiftly took Sunny’s wrists and held them behind Sunny’s back. Sunny lithely bent to his will.

“See my eyes, Sunny?”

“Yes, sir.”

Mr. Scott kissed Sunny hard and let go of Sunny’s wrists, which stayed put. Still kissing, he reached down and rubbed Sunny’s dick through the silk pants.

“You haven’t had any good dick lately,” Mr. Scott said, still rubbing.

“Yes, sir,” Sunny whispered.

“Keep it up, son.” He rubbed a moment more and left Sunny standing there with his erection at full attention.

“Miss Nez, do you think Sunny’s got a nice dick?”

“Yes, sir.”

“So you’ve seen it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Have you fucked it?”

“No, sir.”

“What a shame, Miss Nez. It’s a worthy fucking dick.”

Sunny’s pants stretched tight around the erection.

“Play me something. Play me a tune,” Mr. Scott said.

“Yes, sir.” Sunny picked up his guitar and strummed a chord, then began to play in his absent-minded way as Mr. Scott began to pet my head. Mr. Delacroix was correct when he said I was oversexed, because all I could think about was Mr. Scott kissing me the way he kissed Sunny.

“Nez,” Mr. Delacroix said from behind the sofa, “come.”

I was immediately brought out of my reverie and went to his side. Mr. Delacroix stood behind the sofa shirtless, donning royal-blue silk pants. Mr. Scott’s hand fell along my body as I rose and I heard him sigh. Mr. Delacroix pulled my hair and kissed me hard, as Mr. Scott had done to Sunny. I let my hands fall to my sides in total submission.

“Good girl,” he whispered, “you’ve been a good girl.”

“Thank you, my lord,” I whispered back.

He took my hand and led me into the living room back to my pillow. I sat dutifully at his feet.

“Sunny, I love the last verse of that song because it’s true, isn’t it, that spirit cannot be destroyed?” Mr. Scott asked.

“Yes, sir, it’s true.”

“And what of pride?” asked Mr. Scott. “My dear Miss Nez, can pride be stripped away?”

“Yes, sir, I suppose it can be, but it’s okay because only then can we see our true spirit, which can never be destroyed.”

Mr. Scott leaned over me and took Mr. Delacroix by the hair; his gentle kiss fell on Mr. Delacroix’s open receiving mouth. Never again would I see Mr. Delacroix as enraptured as I did in that moment. He bent beautifully, naturally, in Mr. Scott’s hands.

“You’ve done well, my love.”

Mr. Delacroix’s silk pants stretched in hardness.

“I hope to see all three of you at Twisted Oak soon,” Mr. Scott said as he put his shirt on. Mr. Delacroix stood. “Gregory, you’ve been good to me all these years, like a son,” he said to Mr. Delacroix and kissed him again. Sunny stopped strumming and the air was thick with emotion. Mr. Scott continued through tears. “Your dad,” he paused and swallowed hard. “Your dad knew when you’d be ready. God, you’re so much like him. You’ve learned so much.” Mr. Scott closed his eyes tightly and then opened them as if he were trying to erase the sight of Mr. Delacroix’s father from his mind. “Twisted Oak is waiting for you. She’s yours just as your father wished. The student surpasses the teacher and so now I learn from you.”

“I love you, Jackson,” Mr. Delacroix said and Sunny looked stunned. “I love you too, Gregory-Michel.”

Mr. Scott walked out. The only noise came from the square and the ticking grandfather clock. Mr. Delacroix collapsed on the floor in a heap of sobs.

I looked at Sunny, but he did not go near Mr. Delacroix. I froze with fear on my pillow. I did not understand and I don’t think Sunny did either, not completely. I reached for Mr. Delacroix, but he pushed my hand away, went to our bedroom, and gently closed the door.

“Just leave him, Miss Nez. He’ll let us know when he needs us.”

“Is this one of his sad times, like you said?”

“Yeah, best to leave him be.”

“Is it always like this?”

“Actually, no, I’ve never seen anything quite like this.”

“I can’t imagine what happened. He was fine this morning.”

“I’ve never heard them use first names like that, not in front of me, anyway. This is something different,” Sunny said with worry in his eyes.

“What do you think happened? He’s in there crying and I’m not helping him. This is terrible. Listen to him. We’ve got to do something.” The sound of Mr. Delacroix’s cries were audible even over the goings-on in the square.

“I wouldn’t go in there if I were you, Miss Nez.”

I could not sit still so I went outside to get some fresh air and brought the iced tea glasses into the kitchen. I looked in the fridge to see what might be available for dinner and found grillades and grits; fresh salad greens were left over as well. Good enough, I thought, as it appeared I would be the one taking care of Mr. Delacroix this evening for once. I was happy to repay his kindness.

“Are you going to work tonight?” I asked as I came back into the living room to find Sunny sitting on the sofa where Mr. Delacroix usually sat. I was hoping Sunny would not leave.

“No, I better stay in case he needs me,” Sunny said, and went to call Abby. I heard him tell her that Mr. Delacroix was ill and that he needed to stay in and take care of him.

The crying stopped, but the room was silent. I feared Mr. Delacroix had done something rash. “Sunny,” I said when he’d got off the phone, “he’s too quiet. I gotta go in there. What if he hurt himself or worse?” I was near hysterics thinking of all the stories of suicide in his past.

“He won’t do that to us, not after what he’s been through. I know he won’t. He’s too strong for that.”

“I wonder what the hell happened. What that fucker did to him,” I said. I was feeling protective of Mr. Delacroix and angry with Mr. Scott for causing him so much pain.

Sunny had a knowing look on his face as if he’d suddenly figured the whole thing out. “It kinda seems to me, babe, that it was the other way around.”

“What the hell do you mean? Didn’t you see him? He was a mess after Mr. Scott left. That man did something to him, something bad.”

“Hey girl, it seems to me that Mr. Scott was doing some crying too. About the student surpassing the teacher and all that. I think it was Mr. Delacroix who taught Mr. Scott a lesson today, not the other way around.”

“Then why is he crying? Why is he so sad?”

“It’s pretty emotionally charged when power is exchanged, and think about it. Mr. Delacroix has been under Mr. Scott for all these years and now suddenly he isn’t. That’s pretty huge.”

“You think that’s what happened just now? He hasn’t said anything to me about it.”

“I can’t say that it happened, but if it did, he wouldn’t talk to you about it. It’s between the two of them. As I said, it’s a pretty personal thing between two people.”

“God, Sunny, what does all this mean?”

“Sunny?” Mr. Delacroix called out. “Come, please.”

“Stay here, Miss Nez.”

“But—”

“Stay, I’m telling you. Stay the fuck here. It’ll be okay.”

He went to the bedroom door and knocked.

“Please, Sunny, come in.”

I heard Mr. Delacroix’s voice strong and clear and then hushed voices and Sunny’s soothing croon. He was a good friend.

If there was an exchange, that meant that Mr. Delacroix did not belong to Mr. Scott anymore, released from years of bondage. Mr. Delacroix had been Mr. Scott’s submissive since he was fifteen, his formative years spent living and behaving according to the commands of another. The gravity of the situation hit me like a ton of bricks and it was all because Ty found me going the wrong way.

BOOK: Twisted Oak: A Sexual Odyssey
6.97Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

The Ashes of an Oak by Bradbury, Chris
Switcheroo by Goldsmith, Olivia
Cast Your Ballot! by Rachel Wise
Various Positions by Martha Schabas
The Dartmoor Enigma by Basil Thomson
The Scratch on the Ming Vase by Caroline Stellings
Vision of Shadows by Vincent Morrone