Twisted Oak: A Sexual Odyssey (37 page)

“Thomas, I’ll fill you in on the situation regarding the household tomorrow. There’ll be a few immediate changes coming before we leave for the city,” Mr. Delacroix announced.

“Yes, sir,” Thomas said. “The salads will be served shortly.”

“Neige Blanche,” Mr. Ainslie began, “you were quite extraordinary this evenin’. Your conduct at the gathering surpassed our expectations. Are you sure you’ve never experienced our lifestyle before?”

“I’m very sure, sir. Mr. Delacroix is a good teacher.” I fought the wave inside me that his accent beckoned.

“I look forward to the roast when, if all goes well, you can show me what he’s taught you. You’re such a natural.”

“Thank you, Mr. Ainslie.”

“You’re welcome, my dear,” he said slowly, accentuating his drawl, “you are most welcome. So, what is it that you do in the city other than service Mr. Delacroix? Have you any hobbies or passions? You should visit with Ms. Banning some. She lives in town.”

“Well, sir, as of now I am still orienting myself, but I’ve taken a special liking to the history of the place, especially the family history. My hope is to chronicle the lineage for safekeeping,” I said.

“Oh my,” he said, “that’s a task. I reckon you’re feeling part of it now, the new history.”

“Yes, sir; that is, if Mr. Delacroix will have me,” I said.

Mr. Delacroix raised his glass. “I’ve got you, Neige Blanche, and if I have my way, you won’t be going anywhere.”

The storm raged throughout the night, leaving us in fits of restless sleep, but morning broke amidst white clouds and sun-kissed leaves.

“Nez, get up and empty your bladder,” Mr. Delacroix ordered. He walked out of the bathroom with wet hair. “Get clean, brush up, and get your ass back in bed.”

“Yes, sir.” I sat on the edge of the bed and stretched. “I didn’t sleep well last night,” I said as I slowly padded across the rug to the bathroom.

“I didn’t either, and the power’s not back on yet,” he said as he opened the armoire.

I did not bother with the bathroom light, but the natural light from the windows was enough for me to see clearly. I sat on the toilet and waited for my body to respond to his command. The sound of an acoustic guitar came from the sitting room. For a moment, I thought Sunny was there, but soon realized Mr. Delacroix had turned on the radio.

He came to me dressed in creamy linen pants and a faded blue chambray shirt. He tore the blankets off me and kneeled on the edge of the bed. “You’re not to leave this bed today without my permission. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” I spread my legs as was expected.

“You’re a good girl,” he said. His voice was low and comforting. “I hope we’ll have hundreds of days like this. Days when you stay here like this, ready for me.” The silken ropes in his hands were long and thin. “Give me your wrists.”

I put my hands together for him to bind. His deliberate and experienced motions, accompanied by his gentle voice, made my insides turn. He fluffed and positioned pillows for my comfort. I was looking forward to being his slave for the day.

Once my wrists were bound together, he wrapped the rope around the bottom of the headboard and secured it, giving me just enough slack to change positions as I lay in wait.

“I love you, Neige Blanche.” He kissed my mouth but behaved as if he were afraid to touch me, even though I arched my back in invitation. My juices overflowed.

“I love you too, my lord,” I smiled. “Please give our guests my best and tell Jackson good luck for me. And sir, if I may speak freely?” I asked.

“Yes, you may.”

“Please hurry back, my lord,” I said.

“Ah, cher. I love it when you beg.” He smiled and pulled the covers over me.

I lay back and my head sunk into the deep pillows. My arms felt awkward and uncomfortable secured above, so I began to relax my head, face, shoulders, torso, hips, legs, and feet until I fell into the bindings finding comfort and security. He loved me and he wanted to keep me.

It was much later when I woke again, the morning sunlight having turned afternoon bright. The covers were off the bed completely. I was naked to the world, disoriented and foggy with sleep. Mr. Delacroix sat silently next to the bed, watching me intently.

“Sir, you’re back.” I mustered a sleepy smile, turned on my back, and spread my legs. “I’ve been waiting.”

“Have you?” he said flatly.

“Yes, my lord.”

“Indeed.” His tone was fixed, his demeanor sullen. “Nezzie, what if you aren’t the one?”

“Sir?” I asked with concern.

“What if I’m making a mistake?”

I could not tell if he was asking me or talking to himself. I tried to sit up, but the tethers kept me low to the bed. “What do you mean?”

“Could you ever be truly happy with me in this fucking freak show?” The tone of his voice was ominous.

“I love you, sir. I’m happy. I’m happier than I’ve ever been. I’ll always be happy with you, no matter what.”

“Indeed.”

“Please, Mr. Delacroix, what can I do to show you?”

“Nothing,” he said.

“Is everything okay with Jackson, sir?”

“He’s gone. Maybe gone for good.”

“Oh, Mr. Delacroix, he’ll be back.”

“We’ll see.” He looked lost and alone. “He said you’d leave this freak show too.”

“Oh, my lord, he couldn’t be more wrong. In all honesty I don’t know if I could ever live another way. I absolutely do know I don’t want to live with another man, ever. I love you, Mr. Delacroix, I honestly do. Jackson was just trying to hurt you.”

“You’re too good for this, Nezzie. I’ve ruined you, I think. I’ve taken you from innocence to . . .” He ran his hand through his dark curls. “Look at you, baby. Look what I’ve done.”

I began to feel angry. “Yes, my lord, look at me. If you think I was innocent or that I’m ruined, then so be it, but I don’t feel ruined. For god’s sake, I was anything but innocent.”

“No, I didn’t mean it that way. I meant that maybe Jack’s right. Maybe you’re too good for me. Maybe I don’t deserve you. Maybe I have to ruin you to bring you down to my level.”

“Sir, I’m the one who doesn’t measure up. I haven’t been able to get Ms. Portiere’s words out of my head. I don’t measure up to the standards here. I’m out of my depth, as she put it,” I said, admitting my deep feelings of inferiority.

“Oh, to hell with that. Charlotte’s just pulling your chain because she knows you’ll step up. She sees it in you as we all do. It’s her way of making you strive harder. She’s a good dom, Nez, that’s all.”

I began to wonder about his relationship with Ms. Portiere, but I swallowed my jealously.

“I’m serious, sir. She nailed it. She knew, as any good dom would, what’s been eating at me. She totally nailed it. Ever since you took me, I’ve been surrounded by gifted and successful people. You’re a wildly successful businessman, Sunny’s an accomplished musician who also owns his own business, Marie’s a gifted pianist . . .”

“Nezzie, please stop.”

“Sir, I have nothing. I am nothing,” I said as the tears flowed. “Jack’s fucking with you, sir, and maybe you’re right. Maybe he doesn’t need to come back if that’s what he thinks. It could be, sir, that he no longer belongs here if he thinks it’s a freak show. Jesus, this is your home and these are your ways. He can like it or leave it, just like you said yesterday.”

“And you like it?” he asked.

“Yes, sir. I like it and I’m not leaving it ever, unless you want me to, but I don’t want to, because without you, I am fucking nothing. You know what I was before.”

His electric blue eyes channeled my insecurities and magnified them. “You are
my
nothing, Neige Blanche. You are negative space for me to fill. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Say it, slave. Tell me again how you are nothing.” His eyes grew darker. “Tell me how you are
my
nothing.” He raised his voice and I was frightened, but I remembered his words about fear, about how facing fear is a pathway to strength.

“My lord, I’m nothing without you. Please understand that I want you to make me into something because now I’m nothing. Please,” I begged, “I’m yours to mold and shape.”

“Show me, whore. Show me how you earn your keep around here.”

He stood over me and my legs instinctively opened. I arched my back to expose my breasts and throat. “My lord, it’s all I have, my empty space for you.”

He untied my right wrist, but left the other tethered to the headboard. His eyes were dark and ghostly, the eyes that frightened me.

“I trust you, my lord.”

“You fucking better.” He grabbed a thick handful of my hair and my right wrist and jerked my head over the side of the bed. He made quick work of securing my right wrist to the footboard. I kept my legs open.

“Good girl, keep your legs open for your master. It’s the least you can do.”

“Yes, sir,” I said, working to catch my breath, expecting his swollen penis down my throat, but instead he sat back down in the chair. He watched me breathe for a few moments.

“You’re perfect, Nezzie,” he said, leaning forward, his eyes locked on mine. “How far can you bend?”

“As far as need be, my lord. I’ll bend as far as you can push.”

“No doubt, but I wonder just how far before you break.”

Fear crept in. “Yes, sir, I wonder that too sometimes.”

He stood and removed his pants. “Therein you see what you have to offer me.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Value it, Nezzie. Don’t ever think you have nothing to offer, even as you are nothing. You are
my
nothing; therefore, your nothingness becomes
me
. Do you understand?”

“I think so, sir.”

“Your offering to me is singular and whole. Your nothingness is my canvas, waiting to be a masterpiece. If you choose to remain nothing, then I fail. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“All you see and do, all you breathe and eat and feel, is for me. This is what you offer, and in return you will evolve. Do you hear me?”

“Yes, sir.” His erection looked massive from my point of view.

“Swallow it,” he said as he stepped toward me. “Open your fucking mouth.”

I obliged and he jammed his cock far down my throat. My jaw strained to open wide enough as his hips moved. His hands held my breasts in fists and he pulled me back and forth. The pain was dull, warm, and oddly comforting until I thought I might suffocate. I began to panic and kick my legs, but he did not stop.

“Keep your legs open, bitch,” he said, and my legs fell open. I closed my eyes as blackness crept in the sides of my vision. When I was on the verge of losing consciousness, he pulled out. “Breathe, slut.”

My breath came in fits and starts with my mouth full of his organ, but I worked hard to calm my nerves and get my heart rate back down.

“Okay, whore, time for your lunch. Open wide.” He shoved deep into me, hips pumping. Soon my throat was coated with his thick, creamy, salty juice.

When he was finished, he sat back in the chair and watched me as I worked to clear my throat. I was nearly choking on the thick fluid. He sat there, detached, until I finally caught my breath.

My thoughts reeled as I lay with my head hanging upside down. I could see myself in the armoire mirror. The reflection showed something, not nothing. I was something in Mr. Delacroix’s presence, but I was also something more. I saw something alive, desirable, human, and strong. I saw a woman who had found a man who valued her, who was willing to fight for her love, affection, and safety. I saw a young woman whose mate considered her well-being his personal responsibility and who was willing to share her failures.

I understood now what he had done to me in those earlier frightening moments. He helped me understand that I was his world. In it and with him, the possibilities were endless. Even nothingness was something in the presence of love.

Mr. Delacroix leaned toward me. “Only we know our true intentions, Nezzie. I trust you and believe you when you tell me yours.”

“Thank you, sir. I’ve trusted you now for weeks.”

“When? When did you realize you could trust me?”

“I think—no, sir, I know—it was the day I told you about the money I stole.” I paused. “Remember? I knew then that I could never turn back. That day I knew I was yours. I can’t see another way, sir. You are all that I see.”

I shifted my weight on my stiff shoulders and neck. “I wish there was something more I could do to show you how much I love you.”

“There is. We’ll discuss that later. Can I get you anything before I go?”

“Sir, what can I do for you to show how much I care?”

“Not now, Nez, we’ll talk of it later today. Lie down and give me your wrist again.”

He left me tucked in, sinking back into the pillows, bewildered at how he could push me so low and lift me so high in such a short time.

The sun moved across the windowpane. I watched the birds flitter about the top branches of Twisted Oak with a deeper understanding of how it was that Marie-Louise’s spirit was not broken. Her pride stripped away so long ago, her true spirit was all she had. What would it be like to have no pride, no ego to pull you down? Is that what freedom was?

I drifted off again in peaceful slumber. The delicious day was in slow motion, but I woke later with hunger pangs. I remembered Mr. Delacroix had said it was lunchtime when he had last visited, yet breakfast and lunch passed with nary a bite. Would he starve his devoted slave?

When the room was shaded in early evening light, Mr. Delacroix carried in a leather portfolio of business documents. He set the satchel down on the chaise and sat on the kitchenette chair. I struck my submissive pose.

“You’re quiet. Not even a hello for your loving lord?”

“I’m very thirsty and hungry, sir.”

“I fed you when I was here last, so don’t complain. I bet you have to take a piss, too.” He leaned back, nonchalant.

“Getting there, my lord,” I said. “What is this? What are you doing?”

“It was your idea, not eating.”

“My idea? Sir, where did you get that?” I asked incredulously.

“You said you prefer an empty stomach. That sex was better for you before meals. Since today I wasn’t sure of my schedule, I thought you could wait to eat till I was through with you,” he said, “to make it better for you, of course.”

“It’s not like we fucked all day, sir, which I would have preferred,” I said.

“Ah, so you didn’t get enough of me to satiate your hunger pains? Is that it?”

“Well no, sir, I guess not.”

“It’s about inequity, Nez. See, I call the shots and you, my love, are nothing. If I want to tie you to the bed, I can for as long as I want to.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now you understand more poignantly what that means.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Not to worry, I realize you have to eat something besides me, so in a few minutes Thomas is bringing your breakfast.”

“Breakfast? What time is it, my lord?”

“It’s about five-thirty, but since you haven’t eaten, I thought some breakfast food would be nice for you. You and I will eat together up here. We’ve got some stuff to go over, but before I let your ass up out of that bed, I’m gonna fuck it.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“But right after we’re through eating and going over those papers, you’re to come straight back to bed, do you understand?”

“Yes, sir, but will you come with me?” I asked.

“This time I’ll join you, my darling little slut.”

He slid his shorts off and untied my wrists. I lay on my back as he reached between my legs, wrapped his arms around my thighs, and dragged my ass over the side of the bed, leaving my arms flailing above my head. “Leave your arms there.”