Twisted Oak: A Sexual Odyssey

by Blanche, Neige

  We made our way around the square on the church side because the mules and carriages along Decatur Street made a crowd. They were busy this time of year, with tourists lining up for rides. I’d see George out there almost every day with his white mule. He’d wave to me with his hat in hand.

  “He said he’d never expect anything of me that he hasn’t already experienced.” I was looking for insight from my friend.

  “Prepare yourself for absolute debasement; complete objectification of your body. You’re a walking fuck machine for him and nothing more. Here’s the mind fuck: you’re nothing but a fuck hole, or in your case, fuck holes plural. When you’re stripped down like that, when there’s nothing left of you physically, this is when you find your greatest and most powerful potential; your true self, your true strength and power.”

  “Has he been stripped?”

  “I dunno. You have to ask him.”

  “Have you?”

  “Yep.”

  “And you’d do it all over again because you found your powerful center?”

  “Yep, I’d do it in a heartbeat, but only with Mr. Delacroix, because he’s good. See, this is the thing with Ty. He doesn’t think he can handle it and he’s probably right considering how this rolls.”

  “Is that why Collette killed herself?”

  “No, cher. It’s a lot more complicated. And remember, you can get out anytime you want. She didn’t know when to leave and like I said, he made a mistake. He’s good, but he was young then, and so was she. He shouldn’t have collared her to begin with.”

  “Is that what’s happening with Mrs. Scott? She’s scared to face her inner self?” The question tapped on the window of my mind: Am I afraid?

  “Not sure what’s going on there, other than Mr. Delacroix blames Mr. Scott and I tend to agree. Mr. Scott’s always been a player, but she’s different. She has challenges. You’ll see what I mean when you meet her. But I’m not sure Mr. Scott has it in him to bring someone to their fullest. That takes a special talent, and our Mr. Delacroix’s got it.”

  * * *

  The Riverwalk Marketplace, a shopping mall along the river, was full, as usual, the tourists and locals alike relishing the nice weather and cashing in on a good deal. Large windows facing the river lit the interior as we wandered about gift shops and t-shirt vendors.

  We decided to walk outside along the river on our way back home. The riverboat’s calliope provided a surreal carnival atmosphere. Tourists were disembarking the vessel.

  “I guess we should take advantage of being here while we can before the move to Twisted Oak,” I said.

  “I think it’s gonna be awhile before the big move. Don’t be in a rush, either, because it’s nothing like being here.”

  Was my fantasy about a utopian Twisted Oak completely out of sync with reality? “You’ll miss being here?”

  “I probably won’t go. Most likely I’ll stay at the apartment.”

  “I sure will miss you.”

  “It’s not like you’ll never see me. Twisted Oak is only two or three hours away, and besides, my life’s here with the bar and Ty. I dunno, maybe I can get him to move in with me after you all leave and get him to go legit.”

  “I hope so; he deserves a good life. But we’ll miss you. I know Mr. Delacroix will.”

  We bought a cup of coffee and made our way toward the side of the mall facing the river. The light coming through the large doors glared off the tile floor. Sunlight dazzled the surface of the water.

  “If I can get him to sign on with me totally, I can work with him; otherwise I doubt he’ll ever get real. And he won’t do that unless Mr. Delacroix moves out. For some reason he’s freaked out by Mr. Delacroix. I can’t figure out why.”

  We stood along the railing overlooking the steep bulkhead that kept the river at bay. “I have a hunch as to why.”

  “Do tell,” Sunny said, and rested his elbow on the warm metal rail. Shore birds were diving and calling to one another.

  “You said Mr. Delacroix has a talent for getting us to face our demons. Ty’s just not ready, but he will be, I think, with you, because you get him. Be patient with him.”

  “I know you think we’re hard on him, but it’s for his own good.”

  Cyclists, joggers, dog walkers, and families passed us as we walked along the river toward the apartment. A young boy dressed in dirty clothes sat on the grass and played a guitar. Sunny tossed a dollar bill in his guitar case.

  “I get that now, but he isn’t all that strong, ya know. He plays it up like he’s all good with everything but he’s not. Be kind to the man.”

  “You’re nothing but a bleeding heart.”

  “For Ty, you bet I am.”

  “I guess I am too. Hell, he isn’t even my sub yet and he has me right where he needs me.” His smile was warm. “I really love that guy.”

  We hooked a left at Jax Brewery and entered the square. The daily circus was in full late-afternoon swing. We stopped to talk with a friend of Sunny’s, a palm reader named Talisman. He was an older man with a swath of bushy gray hair and a long beard.

  “Hey there, Sunny,” the man said in a surprisingly youthful voice.

  “What’s going on, Tali?” They shook hands.

  “Not a lot just now. Your friend want her palm read?”

  “Miss Nez, this is Talisman. He’s been reading palms here since before I came to the city.”

  “Nice to meet you, young lady,” he said, and reached out and shook my hand. I noticed he was sitting in a wheelchair. “Yep, I recall when Sunny first got here. He was a skinny little runt.”

  “Yeah, well, Tali, you weren’t the cat’s meow either,” Sunny said.

  “Never have been, kid. Not since my accident. Before, I’d be out dancin’ all night with the ladies. Life’s like that, it changes things. So, how about it, Miss Nez, you want to see what life has in store for you?”

  I looked at Sunny and he shrugged. “He’s pretty good at it, from what I hear.”

  “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.