“No, sir,” I said.
“That’s the right answer,” he said and pet my head again.
“Sir, I really don’t think she was manipulating me. I think she is genuinely afraid of not having a dom,” I said.
“Oh, I am sure of it. Hell, look at her life. She doesn’t even remember not being under someone. If not her mother then her stepdad, and god knows who else. And then fucking Jackson.” His voice broke and the anger flowed. “Fucking Jackson.” He stood up and began to pace.
“Sir, I’m sure he tried to help her,” I said.
“Fucking bullshit, Nez. He scared the shit out of her. Look at her. She’s twenty-six and she’s never been off these grounds. He’s got her thinking the world is evil and that the only place she’s safe is here. All those men before him, they may have abused her body, but our Jack? Good god in heaven, he fucked her mind. I have such issues with that, especially considering her nature. This whole way of life is about bringing people up, not grinding them down. And you know what else he said to me this morning, the fucker?” He was waving his hands now and pacing fast.
“No, sir,” I said.
“He hasn’t fucked her pussy in two and a half years. He told me it makes him sick, so the only way she ever gets it is in the ass, and apparently, that isn’t very often either. Sometimes I think he’s doing this to make me suffer for not falling for his bullshit all those years ago and for making him take responsibility for her. I don’t know, but I’m sick of him, sick of his self-centered fucking bullshit.”
“My lord, she never said a word to me about that. She never went into any detail about her sex life or her childhood. In fact, she changed the subject when it came up.”
“I’ll bet she did. It’s downright shameful, the way she’s been treated her whole life. It’s just so fucking sad. And to think how Jack made it so much worse for her and took advantage of her simplemindedness. I’m just sick about it. It keeps me awake at night. Every time I look at Jack lately, it’s harder to remember the good times. He’s changed so much. I miss the old Jack and I doubt he’ll ever come back. I’ve lost him. Even at work, he’s not what he used to be. He’s lost his edge. Nobody’s happy when he comes in and it’s affecting morale. The international guys all think I keep him on out of loyalty to my father’s memory and maybe they’re right. It used to be that he was the engine that kept the firm going, but these days he’s useless.” He plopped down on the sofa and twisted a lock of my hair.
“I’m sorry, my lord,” was all I could say, but I was glad his loyalties were with Marie-Louise. It was a comfort to know that he meant what he said and said what he meant. His honesty was refreshing.
“God, Nez, I am too. The whole thing is a sorry mess. I’ve decided to offer him the opportunity to leave,” he said flatly.
“What, sir? What do you mean?”
“After this morning, when he and I were upstairs, some of the things he said and tried to do got me thinking that he really needs to get out of here for a while; not forever, but just for a while. Put some space between himself and my father’s memory, this place, between himself and me so that you and I can get on with our life together. It’s not that he’s against us being together, but he’s not able to understand that he,” Mr. Delacroix paused, “that he and I aren’t what we used to be.”
“I think I see, my lord.”
“He needs a change of venue and he needs a strong dom to get his mind back on track, and then he can come back if he wants to; maybe by then Marie-Louise will sort herself out.”
“I suppose fucking up someone’s mind has a tendency to fuck with your own after a while, sir,” I said.
“Exactly, Nez, that’s exactly what’s happened. He’s just gotten all fucked up on account of what he’s done.”
“So what’ll you do, sir?”
“At tea, I’ll tell him that tonight I’ll offer him on temporary loan to the dom of my choice, beginning as soon as possible once an agreement is drawn up. It’s as simple as that, provided they’ll have him. End of story. And Marie can stay in the east wing as planned and we’ll help her with the divorce papers.”
“Can you do that, sir?”
“Hide and watch me, girl. Just hide and watch me,” he said. “I’m in charge now.”
“I mean your agreement. Does it say you can do that?”
“I made sure of it the day he came to the apartment. Even then, he was so full of himself. I think on some level, I saw this coming.” He leaned back on the sofa. “I remember once when Jack disappeared for a while when I was a little kid. It seemed like a long time, but it was probably only about six months or so. Dad told me that he had a long business trip, but in retrospect, I think Dad lent him out for a while. Even back then, Jack had issues. I wish Dad was here to advise me.”
He got up and walked from window to window. “Aw hell, if he was here, this wouldn’t be happening, but I wonder who he used back then and if they’re still around. Whatever that person did worked wonders. When Jack came back, the whole house seemed tranquil, like it hadn’t been in a long time, and Dad and Jack were so happy to see each other. I think Charlotte will know who it was. She’ll be here tonight. That’s Madame Charlotte to you, my dear.”
It had never dawned on me that some of the doms would be female.
“Speaking of which, you need a little briefing this afternoon to prepare for the meeting. Are you hungry? I am,” he said, and went to the kitchenette.
“Yes, sir.”
“Let’s have lunch up here and we can go over a few things without interruption.”
“Thomas was very sweet today, my lord. He said the staff was pleased I’m here and they look forward to serving me,” I said.
“He’s a good man. You won’t find a more loyal friend in the world. He’s seen me through thick and thin. Nobody knows how this place rolls like he does.”
I thought of the note Thomas had given me that morning. “Did you send me a message today, sir?” I asked, trying to seem nonchalant.
“No, why?”
I had thrown the note Thomas gave me in the trashcan in the bathroom so I went in there to retrieve it. I was scared that Mr. Delacroix would be angry at whoever sent the message, but I was more frightened of what would happen if he found out and thought I was hiding something from him.
“What message, my dear?” He came to the bathroom to find me rummaging through the trash. “What the hell are you doing?”
“It’s Thomas, my lord, he handed me this today while I was visiting with Marie-Louise.”
I handed him the note and he took it by the corner as if it were soiled. I was sure he was not going to be happy, but he smiled.
“Yep, that’s Thomas for you. I told you he was a loyal friend. He was looking out for you.”
“Oh, thank goodness you aren’t mad, sir. I wasn’t sure what to think.”
“You did the right thing showing this to me, and no, I’m not mad. As I say, he was just being loyal to you. Apparently, he felt your behavior warranted his loyalty. He used to do this for me all the time with Jack. But kid, you had better know this goes the other way around too. If he’d seen anything go on that was not kosher between you and Marie, I’d have known right away. Never, ever question his loyalty to me. I’m on top, and I know everything that goes on in my house. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir. I know.”
He handed the note back to me and I obediently sat on my pillow. He straddled me as he sat on the sofa. “Suck me off before lunch,” he commanded, so I turned and got on my knees to see his hard penis pushing out against his pants. He lifted his ass and slid his pants to his ankles.
I enveloped his erection in my mouth and welcomed his hands in my hair.
“Thank you, Nezzie.” His demeanor was gentle but deliberate. “You make my life so much clearer,” he said, and gathered my face into him. “I’m going to come a lo
t now, my love, and I need you to swallow every drop. Take it all, Nez, and taste my love for you.”
At first, I felt the familiar sensation of creaminess in the back of my throat, but this time, it did not let up. There was so much I thought I might not manage it. Skillfully, he pulled back slightly on my hair so I could swallow and breathe before driving into me again. The sweet saltiness coated my throat. After he was through, he caressed my head gingerly as if I might shatter. His erection slowly but steadily subsiding, he thanked me in a hushed whisper.
We stayed this way for a moment or two until he lifted my head. “Go put that pretty robe on that’s hanging on the side of the armoire, the blue one, but I want you naked underneath.”
“Yes, sir.” The robe was simple blue silk chiffon, somewhat transparent. The lace trim was yellowed with age.
When I arrived back in the sitting room, Samuel was setting the small table with linens, cutlery, and stemware. Thomas placed a small vase with three of my roses in the center of the table and began inspecting our lunch before serving it. He looked up when I walked in and smiled. I returned the gesture in spades. He flipped a switch on the small stereo and soft classical piano music filled the air.
Mr. Delacroix was still sitting on the sofa with his head back and his eyes closed. I thought he may be sleeping, but he asked without opening his eyes, “Do you like the robe, my dear?”
“It’s wonderful, sir. It’s an antique, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it belonged to my paternal grandmother.” Still no movement.
“It’s gorgeous, my lord.”
“Lunch is served, sir,” Thomas said. “The clouds are coming in. I think the rain will arrive sooner than we expected. Shall I close the windows?”
“Yes, please,” said Mr. Delacroix, still not moving a muscle.
“Will there be anything else, sir?” Samuel asked. His voice was surprisingly deep and rich.
“No, thanks, Samuel, it sure smells good though.” Mr. Delacroix got up and looked in my direction. “Nezzie, you look beautiful.”
“Thank you, my lord.”
Thomas pulled the chair out for me before he and Samuel closed the door silently behind them. A bottle of white wine stood in a cooler and a bottle of water sat on a small plate on the table, sweating. Large, shallow bowls filled to the brim with seafood gumbo and rice accompanied side plates heaped with tossed salad. A loaf of warm French bread lay between both bowls and a dish of fresh strawberries adorned the kitchenette counter.
I sat in the chair that Thomas had pulled out for me, facing the windows. I saw a flash of lightning in the distance. “Gosh, my lord, these storms come out of nowhere around here.”
“That they do, my love,” he smiled. “Here ya have seafood gumbo, Thomas’s momma’s recipe, I’m sure. Taste it. I hope you like it, because around here it’s a food group in and of itself.”
The rich, wholesome brown broth was spicy, thick, and warm. Tomatoes, okra, and onion floated in the broth with sausage, small shrimp, and some unfamiliar seafood.
“Oh, my lord, this is great. What all is in it?”
He handed me a piece of French bread he had broken off. “Well, it starts off with a roux, which is flour and safflower oil cooked over medium heat until it turns that dark molasses color. After that, you add the trinity, as they say around here. It’s chopped up onion, celery, and bell peppers. Ya cook that down for a while. Once they’re softened real good, ya add your garlic, salt, and cayenne to taste and then you put in some fish stock and sausage, some shrimp, crawfish, oysters, clams, crab, crab claws, whatever you have handy, even pieces of regular fish fillets. Ya cook it for a while and then add some gumbo fillet seasoning and adjust the other seasonings if ya need to.”
He held a small bowl of thick, red-orange liquid in a demitasse spoon. “This is the finishing touch, my special Twisted Oak hot sauce. Try a little. It’s pretty hot, so be careful.”
He dabbed a drop or two of hot sauce on my spoon and I touched it with my tongue. It was hot, savory, sweet, and sour all in one drop. I could feel sweat on my brow.
“You better be nice, or I’ll put a bunch on my tongue and lick your twat,” he laughed. “I usually don’t kiss and tell, but I did that once to some-one.”
I cringed.
“Not to worry. She liked it.”
He smiled and I wondered if he was talking about Collette. A stab of jealousy ran through me like the hot sauce on my tongue, painful, lingering, and distracting. I wondered if I’d ever get used to the taste.
“You’re probably not accustomed to such spicy food, but it grows on ya.” He dumped two spoonfuls of the hot sauce in his gumbo and mixed it in. “Have some bread. It cuts the heat.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Are you tired?” he asked.
“Why? Do I look tired, sir?”
“Not especially, but you’re quiet all of a sudden and I was just thinking that I got you up kind of early. You can have a nap after lunch.”
“Thank you, sir. I think I’m more curious about what you have to tell me about tonight than I am tired. I’m nervous.”
He was thoughtful for a moment. “Use your fork properly for your salad, my dear, like I showed you last night.”
I did as best I could from memory.
His voice turned businesslike. “Good girl. I’ve told the others they may look but not touch, so you needn’t worry about being handled. The idea is for them to see you, meet you, speak to you, ask questions to which you will give complete and honest answers, and most of all, when we mingle, you must stay at my side and one step behind. No eye contact unless I tell you so and when I sit, you sit on your pillow at my feet as usual.”
“Sir, I hope I can remember all that.”
“You will. You’re a natural. You’ll know what feels right. I can’t stress to you enough how powerful you are in your submission to me. Generally, as I have said all along, the more you submit, the more power you have. But tonight just remember that the more you submit to me, the more obedience you show for me, the more powerful you become to all of them. You’re the imminent Mistress of Twisted Oak. In our little circle of fun and games, that’s quite a coup. Do you understand?”
“Sir, I’m not sure,” I said hesitantly.
“Recall when we were upstairs and I said that someday, you’ll sit in my place when I am away?”
“Yes, sir.”
“That’s exactly what I mean. Once mistress, you’re second in line to be master of ceremonies,” he smiled, “and that can be fun as hell.”
“Oh, my lord, I’m not ready for anything like that.”
“You just told me you got off on having power over Marie. Don’t overthink it. Of course you aren’t ready now, but you will be, provided my plan plays out.”
“Your plan, sir?”
“Yes, my plan to keep you forever, silly girl.” His smile was sweet and generous. “There’s always a big picture involved.”
“Yes, there is, sir. Thanks for reminding me.”
“You’re welcome, my darling. I know it’s easy to get caught up in the moment. So much of what we do is about enjoying the moment. Just remember to stay behind me and under me all evening, and no food or drink for you. Address me as ‘my lord’ and the other doms as ‘sir’ or ‘ma’am.’ You may only have the water I give you and when I dismiss you, come directly here and wait for me.”
“How long will I be . . . on display, sir?”
“Well said, Nez. That’s exactly it. Just think of yourself as being on display and you can’t go wrong. Perfect way to think of it.” He took a spoonful of gumbo into his mouth. “You’re a natural. You got this thing down. I’ll require your presence for only about an hour or ninety minutes. I’ve got dinner scheduled for eight-thirty with Jackson and Marie-Louise.”
“How many people will be here this evening, sir?”
“Ten or twelve at the most. I’m glad all the ladies will join us. I think you’ll enjoy meeting some dominatrices.”
Thinking of this made me shiver. “My lord, have all these doms been submissives at some point?”
“Absolutely. You can’t truly dominate unless you’ve experienced complete subjugation yourself. The ‘good master’ knows what his subject requires every step of the way. How can one know the heart and mind of those who belong to them without ever having wholly surrendered theirs?”
32.
Monique’s journal lulled me to sleep as the rain sounded against the window. Her entry dated September 29, 1769 explained her perception and interpretation of punishment. In this regard, Jean-Pierre was not gentle. Monique wrote:
The weather turns cold and the punishments my master gives grow colder. He became agitated with my enchantment with Na'nie. I understand his selfish nature with me, but I was unaware he would react with such vexation when I spoke of my encounters with her during his absence. He said I would no longer be allowed to take Na'nie in his absence, that I was spoiled and needed a reminder of who my master is, from whom all my blessings flow. He requires that I need him alone and no one else.
His words echo through my mind even now that punishment has been given. “Wench, you will want me. When we are through with this punishment, you will crawl to me begging for your life-giving sustenance. You will thank me for showing you your true path.”
When I protested, he was fierce in his punishment. I estimate I endured punishment for a week or so. Without touch, without pleasure, only pain. For days, I felt dead inside, alone and cold. He wrapped wool over my eyes so I could not see. He led me by the hair to the chamber pot and insisted I empty my body. “For your comfort,” he said, “for we do not know when you will be allowed to go again. It depends on your demeanor.”
He tied my wrists with hemp and pulled me high so my knees no longer touched the ground. Straps woven across my body made it difficult to breathe. He lowered me down onto a large, smooth phallic stone that entered me slowly, painfully, and fully. My knees and feet were unable to find the floor. When I cried, he wrapped more wool around my mouth and tightened the leather around my torso. He kept me this way for what seemed like hours before he pushed another object into my anus.
Twisted Oak: A Sexual Odyssey Page 35
