“I think so.”
He came back in the room and sat on his throne. “Come over here and show me what Monique taught you, but take your clothes off first. Don’t forget, this is our room now. When you’re in our bedroom, you’re to be naked, my love, unless you’re dressing.”
“Yes, my lord.” It felt odd to hear him refer to this room as our bedroom. I had never shared such a personal space with anyone before.
“I won’t tell you again.” He smiled and rubbed his hands together.
“Oh yes, my lord.” I disrobed quickly and went to him, falling to my knees as Monique described.
“Good girl, you’re a very good girl.” He lifted his hips from the chair and pulled his pants to his ankles. Before I knew it, he had a handful of my hair and was pulling my head back firmly but gently. “Did Monique show you how to kneel before me?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“You are the sweetest thing.”
“Thank you, my lord.”
“Show me what you learned today.”
“Thank you, my lord,” I said as I bent in to kiss the tip of his shaved hardness as it grew in my hand. I was astonished at the metamorphosis. I closed my eyes, opened my mouth wide, and hungrily took him as Monique had described. I did not gag, but rather I challenged myself to see how deep I could take him in my throat without suffocating. I got on all fours so that I could more easily move him in and out of my throat and mouth. I sucked him and ran my tongue around the throbbing head of his beautiful cock. I was enjoying giving him pleasure and my privates got so wet I knew I would drip on the floor.
He groaned, his hips moving in rhythm with my head as his grip on my hair guided me.
“Nez,” he whispered, “I’m gonna come soon. Can you swallow it? Are you okay?”
I nodded my head yes. He immediately shoved his hard cock deep into my throat, pushing my head further than I had gone before. I thought I might suffocate but he held me in a vice-like grip. I began to struggle. His cream coated my throat in a salty sweetness. He pushed again and then released me. I sucked hard as I pulled my head away and fell back on my heels.
“That was beautiful. Just what the doctor ordered. Thank you, my dream, you’re a quick study, intelligent and sexy.”
“You’re welcome, my lord.” I snuggled into his thigh and he twirled a lock of my hair in his fingers.
“Nezzie, I’m gonna ask you something and I want you to answer honestly.”
“Yes, my lord. I’m always honest with you.”
He smiled. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m glad I did it.”
“The feeling’s mutual.”
“The feeling’s mutual what?” He grabbed my hair and pulled.
“My lord,” I said quickly. His pull of my hair made my nether regions light up. I kissed his thigh again and he relaxed.
“Do you think this whole thing, the way we live, do you think we’re fucked up, depraved?”
I thought for a while because the truly honest answer was yes. How would he respond if I gave him that answer? Moreover, what did that answer say about me?
“Be completely honest, Nez. Don’t be afraid to give it to me straight.”
“Yes, this is fucked up and depraved,” I said, and I felt him tense, “but given the culture and traditions your family has, it isn’t so fucked up. It makes sense in its own way, in a real way. Sometimes it’s a game, but it isn’t really at all. It’s more real than anything I’ve ever known, so no, it isn’t fucked up or depraved in this context.”
“You aren’t feeling ashamed or appalled or guilty?”
“No, my lord. May I ask why you ask?”
“Yes, but I won’t answer until later when Sunny’s around so he can hear. Do you trust me?”
“With my life, sir. I trust you completely.”
Mr. Delacroix lifted me up to his lap and held me tight. I listened to his heartbeat as my head lay on his chest.
“You suffer so sweetly for me, don’t you?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“You’re my world. When I see your suffering, I know I’m alive. We’re alive together for each other,” he said, caressing me as if I were a most precious treasure. “You’re the sweetest thing. I’ll never let anything happen to you.”
* * *
The guitar sounded melodious against the backdrop of rain on the roof and windows. I followed the sound to find Sunny sitting on the floor next to the fireplace, strumming absent-mindedly. He was a vision in the firelight.
Mr. Delacroix sat on the sofa. “Sunny’s a guitar virtuoso,” he smiled. “Come, my love. Sit.” I took my place on my pillow at his feet.
“Hardly a virtuoso, sir, I just like to play.” Sunny strummed a few chords.
“He sings, too, Nezzie.”
“Sing something for us,” I said with a smile.
“I dunno, Miss Nez. It’s been awhile.”
“Please,” I begged. I saw something in his eyes melt.
“Mr. Delacroix, now I see what you mean about when she begs.”
“Yes,” Mr. Delacroix said, “she cannot be denied.”
Sunny closed his eyes, thought for a moment, and said, “I know. How’s this?”
He strummed a few chords and then began in earnest to sing. I was awestruck by his talent.
“Brava, my dear,” Mr. Delacroix said.
“Thank you, sir. Shall I play another?”
“Yes, if you’re up to it,” Mr. Delacroix said as he twirled a lock of my hair in his fingers.
Sunny strummed a few chords and then performed. His fingers positioned themselves and smoothly moved along the neck of the guitar in a melancholy chord progression that seemed random but harmonious.
“Where did you learn?” I asked.
“I’ve always had music lessons, even as a little kid. My mother wanted me to play the violin. I picked up the guitar after I came here. Mr. Delacroix felt it was good for me to have my own hobby.”
“Passion, Sunny,” Mr. Delacroix corrected him. “Each of us needs our own personal passion.”
“My lord, what is your personal passion?”
“Aside from you, my personal passion is Twisted Oak and the business. We need to find your passion, my lady love.” He playfully tugged my hair.
“I have one now. It’s you, sir,” I smiled.
“Na-na, you need something to call your own. Think about something you love to do and I’ll make it yours to master.”
“Okay, my lord.”
“Ty should be here soon. I told him to bring us a little surprise. I feel like we all deserve it after the week we’ve had, especially you, my love.” Mr. Delacroix ran his hand down my throat and into my low-slung neckline. His hand fell on my breast with fingers finding my nipple, rolling it gently between soft, thick fingers. I arched my back, allowing him easier access. “Nez, you’re a natural.”
“Only for you, my lord.”
Knock, knock, knock.
Sunny set his guitar aside and went to receive Ty, who blew in like a caramel-cream Creole breeze, his tight curls sparkling with raindrops. He added such levity to the room.
“Miss Nez, you look so beautiful!”
“Thanks, Ty, and you’re handsome as ever. I’ve been missing you. Where’ve you been?”
“Aw, Miss Nez, I been workin’, ya know. Takin’ care of business. I been meaning to come by, but I know things been crazy for you and I thought maybe some time for you to adjust would be good.”
He sat on the floor opposite Sunny on the other side of the fireplace. “It would seem, Miss Nez, that you adjustin’ well. You just lookin’ so fine.”
“I am, thank you.” I meant every word.
“Miss Nez, I’m never far, ya know. I’m never too far where you can’t find me. Sunny always know how to find me. Oh
, hey now, Mizz Dee asked after you and I told her you was fine. She say hello.”
I waited for Mr. Delacroix to correct Ty’s grammar, but he said nothing. Maybe he was too worn out to care or maybe Ty had pleased Mr. Delacroix that day.
“Ty,” Mr. Delacroix finally said, “what’s your first impression of the inner workings of Twisted Oak? Did you have a good time today?”
“Aw, god, Mr. Delacroix, yes indeed, I did. Cher, in all my days I ain’t never seen anything like it.”
Sunny laughed. “Ty, I should think you were in your element.”
“No way, I was way outta my element, sir. Shooo-ey, man, they a crazy bunch, but fun as hell.”
“You should have seen him,” Mr. Delacroix said, “he was such a treat! No one really knew what to think when he and I walked in, but soon enough, he became a novelty and everyone wanted a piece of him. And Ty, I gotta say, you obliged more than I expected.”
I raised my eyebrows and waited for an explanation, but Ty was silent.
“Nezzie,” Mr. Delacroix explained, “Ty’s very well-endowed. You wouldn’t know it by looking at his skinny ass, but he is, and the ladies, not to mention a few gents, went wild. Up until yesterday, blacks have never been allowed to play at Twisted Oak.”
“Play, my lord?” I asked.
“Did Monique tell you about the upstairs rooms at Twisted Oak?”
“She mentioned the rooms, my lord, but she didn’t describe them in much detail.”
“Oh, she will as you read more. The space is still there. Usually at the roast, a few of us end up upstairs and we play around.”
“Like group sex?”
Another tug of my hair. “Like group sex what?”
“My lord?”
“Yes, something like group sex. Ty was the star of the show today. What do ya have to say, Ty? Was it as good as it looked from where I sat?” His smile was broad and gleaming.
“Mr. Delacroix, I never dreamed of anything so crazy. I honestly didn’t think I would be into doing the ladies—no offense, Miss Nez—but everyone was just so loose and fun. You white people are plumb crazy.”
“Last time I saw you, Ty, you were tied up and twisted between a man and a woman having the time of your life,” Mr. Delacroix laughed. “Glad you made it out alive is all I can say.”
“Well, sir, I be kinda wore out.”
“Me too.”
“I bring you that thing you wanted,” Ty said, and handed Mr. Delacroix a small envelope.
“Great, thanks,” Mr. Delacroix said as he took the envelope. “Sunny, got some fire?”
Sunny took a long match from a box that sat atop some books on the bookcase, lit it on the fireplace, and handed it to Mr. Delacroix, who lit the joint he took from the envelope. He inhaled deeply and handed it to me. I gladly partook, handing the joint to Ty.
“Nezzie, we only do this on occasion. Using drugs of any kind to get high, even alcohol, is to be avoided. I trust you realize this and can exhibit some self-control. If you don’t think you can handle it, just say so and we’ll never do it again. Don’t you agree that getting high from one another’s pleasure is much more fulfilling?”
“Yes, my lord, and I’m okay with this. I never really smoked a lot of pot,” I said as my limbs began to feel thick and heavy.
“Personally,” said Sunny to no one in particular, “sometimes I find it easier to get it up after I smoke a little, but then I get tired too soon, so I guess it’s a trade-off.”
“Nezzie, baby,” Mr. Delacroix crooned, “are you thirsty? I know I am.”
“I could use something to drink, my lord.” I began to get up but he pushed me down. I looked up into his glassy blue eyes, dimmed now with the fog of marijuana.
“Ty, run and get that bottle of sauvignon blanc in the fridge, will you please, my dear?”
“Sho’ thing, boss.” Ty got up from his cross-legged position and immediately went to work in the kitchen.
“Sunny, you shoulda seen Ty today, man. He had a blast. I thought Mrs. Scott was gonna have a cow when he and I walked in together.” His voice was slow and low. His Southern accent flowed under the influence of the marijuana.
“Sir, if I may say something now that we are all stoned?” Sunny began.
“Go ahead, kid. I know what you’re going to say.”
“No, sir, it isn’t that. I think it’s high time folks like Ty be welcomed at Twisted Oak. For god’s sake, it’s 1987. I think over time folks have forgotten who runs things is all. I know you and Mr. Scott are solid, so there aren’t any worries. I just hope Mrs. Scott gets to feeling better. You’ll be thirty soon and you’ll hold the reins.”
“Sunny, Mrs. Scott’s demons are brought to us by Mr. Scott. He holds a lot of blame from where I sit, so give her a break. I am very well aware of where I am when it comes to the trust. I’m ready to take over anytime.” His tone became cross. “I think things are lining up well for it.”
“Sir, can I ask a question?” I interjected.
“Yeah, doll, you can ask anything. I’m sorry if we’re talking about things you aren’t aware of. What is it?”
“What’s wrong with Mrs. Scott, my lord?”
“Nothing that Mr. Scott can’t fix, and he could very easily, but I suppose it was part of their agreement. See, Mr. Scott never wanted to have children. Anyhow, when he took Mrs. Scott, she signed on very much as you have, saying she would practice birth control. I gather when he collared her, part of their new agreement was that she would continue to do so.”
“I see.”
He glanced at me and went for my hair.
“My lord.”
“I’m not sure if you’ve ever thought about kids, Nez, but around here, women are expected to have children and are brought up measuring their identity with motherhood. It’s kind of a Catholic thing, but it’s also a cultural thing: women have children. And she wants to, but he doesn’t.”
“Is that what the matter with Mrs. Scott, sir?” Ty set the tray down with the bottle and four glasses.
“Among other things, yes, Ty, but this fancy of hers will pass like most things do with her.”
“I thought they were older. Isn’t she too old to have babies, my lord?” I asked.
“Oh no, Nez, she’s about Ty’s age, just ripe to have kids.”
“They’re about eighteen years apart,” Sunny said. “I guess he’s about forty-five or so; somewhere around there.”
“Forty-four, Sunny, and she’s twenty-six,” Mr. Delacroix said. “She got on this tangent with me today about how Twisted Oak is nowhere to raise a kid and Mr. Scott was too ‘homosexual’ for her and would be a poor father and on and on. She even said he wasn’t a ‘real man,’ but as I say, she’ll change her tune. She always does.”
“Damn,” said Ty, “he a real man to me.”
“Even though she has her issues, she may leave; but then again, I can’t imagine her doing so,” Mr. Delacroix said.
“Break the contract, my lord?”
“Yeah, Nez, break the contract, break the collar and get a divorce. It’s looking like that scenario is inevitable, but getting out once and for all is another thing. I’m not sure where she’d even go.”
Ty said, “Miss Nez, she ain’t ever been nowhere else. She bone there.”
“She was born at Twisted Oak?” I asked incredulously.
“Yeah, I remember when it happened. I was around four or so. Her momma worked for us. Her family lived—still lives, actually—on the grounds,” Mr. Delacroix explained. “I can’t imagine she’d just go live with her auntie out in that shack where she was born. She didn’t have a great childhood out there.”
Sunny poured the wine and sat to strum his guitar.
Mr. Delacroix continued, “Ty, this may sound like gossip and maybe it is, but don’t go repeating it.”
�
��Yes, sir—I mean, no, sir.”
“After my discussion with her today, I’ve decided I’m gonna make a conscious effort to move my life in the direction of Twisted Oak. It’s time for me to have more direction in my life. As much as I hate to admit it, I don’t think their arrangement’s gonna last. I dunno, maybe it was the gloomy weather, but Mrs. Scott is getting worse, and he’s miserable too. I’m disappointed in Mr. Scott for not at least trying to understand her. It’s his job to look after her, but he’s too damned busy playing around and she requires special attention.” He sipped his wine and faced Ty. “I noticed he fucked your ass silly today.”
“Oh yeah he did,” Ty said, his smile as wide as his head. “He was the first one.”
I shook my head in amazement and wondered how many people had fucked Ty that day.
“It’s time that place saw some real happiness again, and now with Nezzie here, I might have a decent chance at it. I hope all of you will join me, especially you, my dream, my love, my lady Nez.” He held his wine up as in a toast. “Who’s with me?”
No one but me raised their glass.
“Sunny,” Mr. Delacroix said, “it’s not like it’ll happen overnight. There’s a ton of stuff that needs to be sorted out. No matter what happens, Twisted Oak will take care of Mrs. Scott, so you can see there’s a lot that needs to happen. First off, I don’t even know if the Scotts are going to stay once I go back out there full-time. I have no idea where they’d go if they chose not to; at least he’ll get his share of the trust. There are so many personal issues, not to mention legal details. I’m just saying that over the next few weeks I’d like to get back out there and run things. I’m ready. I feel good about it and I haven’t in so long. You’ve known all along, my dear Sunny, that Twisted Oak is where I’ll end up. It’s what my father wanted. It’s what I want, and I always thought you’d be there with me.”
Sunny slowly raised his glass and Ty followed suit, asking, “Mr. Delacroix? You ain’t gonna get rid of that room, is ya?”
“The room stays, Ty.”
“Then I be in, boss.”
Mr. Delacroix rolled his eyes and glared at Sunny. “You have got to clean this boy up, son.”
Twisted Oak: A Sexual Odyssey Page 13
