Twisted Oak: A Sexual Odyssey (9 page)

Twilight had fallen when we reached the apartment, and gas lamps burned all around the courtyard and along the gallery. An uplight gave the fountain an ethereal look.

The chandelier was set to low and the dining table set for two. Smooth jazz played in the background. The apartment glowed, a fire burning in the fireplace.

“Time to dress for dinner, cher.”

“Dress for dinner? What does that mean?”

“My dear, it means that you have an outfit waiting in Sunny’s room to change into for dinner. You’ll dress for dinner every night that you dine with me or you don’t dine at all.”

I went to Sunny’s room and turned on the overhead light. A full-length white strapless cocktail dress hung on a dress stand; its silk chiffon bodice was covered in lace, and the skirt was pencil thin.

I slipped the dress on over my skin. It fit like a glove, but I could not zip it all the way. I let my hair cascade onto my shoulders. Mr. Delacroix had also left white satin gloves that went nearly all the way to my elbows. I felt like a dress-up doll, especially when I placed the gold rings he had put out for me on my fingers over the gloves and fastened the thick gold chain around my neck. The rings had huge stones—ruby, emerald, sapphire— and I wondered if they were real. I slipped the white stiletto pumps on and stepped out of the room.

I did not realize he was standing outside my door and I ran into him as I was trying to find the dress’s zipper. “Can you help me, please? I can’t seem to get it.”

Mr. Delacroix was dressed in a black tuxedo and white tie with tails and a waistcoat. He held what looked like another riding crop in his hand, this time a black one. “Come, let me help you, my love.”

I turned my back so he could zip me. As he did, he ran his finger up my spine and leaned in.

“I love the smell of you. I want to lick your cunt like an ice cream cone.”

He took my hand, led me to the dining room, and pulled out a chair. I sat as he poured champagne.

“Mr. Delacroix,” I said, and he looked at me with anxious eyes, “thank you for a lovely day. I have to say, it was the best day of my life.”

“I thought maybe you’d think the whole thing was over the top. I love to show my city off to a captive audience.” He winked with that warm and inviting smile, that sensuous, full mouth that looked so sweet.

“May I ask a personal question?”

“Only if I can touch your personal parts,” he grinned.

“When is your birthday?”

His demeanor changed slightly. “I’ll be thirty next month. I like your questions, by the way.”

“Thank you.”

“Thank you
what
?”

“What? What do you mean?”

“You must address me properly.”

“Which is how?”

“You have a choice. You may say ‘Mr. Delacroix’ or you may call me ‘sir’ or, as you did earlier today, ‘my lord.’ I’ve never been called that before and I like it. So when you say thank you, say, ‘Thank you, my lord.’”

“Yes, sir.” My nether regions were melting again.

“What’s your question?”

“What was your favorite part of today?”

“You’re delightful! What an incredible thing to ask. Let me think,” he said as he sipped his champagne, “seeing the riding crop sink into your delicate ass, god, that was so fucking hot. When we were at Commander’s and you said that my wish is your command. When you surrendered to me . . .” He got very serious. “Do you know the sweetness there?” He held my hands on the table. “Thank you, Nez.” His eyes misted over with tears.

We sipped in awkward silence for a few minutes and then, as if he had been replaying every detail of the day’s events, he said out of the blue, “You have a smart mouth. I have half a mind to suck that tongue right out of it.” His voice flattened. “When you sign, there’ll be no more cursing out of you, Nez, or I promise, next time you do will be your last.”

“Okay.”

Crack! The riding crop hit the tabletop and I jumped. “Okay what?”

“Okay, my lord.”

“Well done, Nez. Would you like some beef Wellington and tossed salad?”

“I’d love it, sir. I’m very hungry, actually.”

“You got a lot of exercise today and you didn’t eat for days when you were so ill. Are you feeling better?”

“Yes, my lord. My lord, I don’t want to be forward, and you don’t have to answer, but just how wealthy are you, if I may ask?”

“That is a forward question, Neige Blanche, very forward indeed, but since you appear to have a real interest in what I do . . .” He looked at my expression as if trying to determine where my interest really was. “I’ll answer as best I can.”

I sensed a level of distrust. “I understand, sir, if you don’t want to answer.”

“No, it’s okay. I just haven’t really thought about the big picture in a long time.” He took a bite of his meat. “Overall, including Twisted Oak, I’m probably worth between thirty and eighty million, depending on markets and the exchange rates.”

“Wow, sir.”

“I know it’s a big disparity there, and I should probably get a better handle on it, especially since I’m taking the whole thing over soon.”

His casual manner indicated that he did not find his situation exceptional, but I was stunned. I never would have thought he was so wealthy; his lifestyle was so austere. I reflected on his earlier words about how he owes his success to those around him. I was impressed with his ability not to allow his wealth to insulate him from the common person’s struggles, and my admiration for him grew.

During dinner we talked about everything from the weather to not wearing panties—“All to be discussed during contract time, my love, but right now it is dessert time.”

“What are we having?” I asked.

“Nothing for you, my dear, not tonight, not until we get that gag reflex of yours trained. Besides, I think you’ll like this just as well.”

He got up, bowed in my direction, and showed the way to the living room. As I stepped before him, he pulled the zipper down on my dress and it fell to the floor. I was naked but for my shoes, gloves, and jewelry. “Leave the rest on and go sit on the sofa.”

“Okay.”

He smacked my backside with the riding crop and I yelped. “Nez, say it: ‘Yes, my lord.’”

“Yes, my lord,” I replied, and moved quickly to the sofa. I tried to rub my rear end, but he whacked my hand away with the riding crop and followed me to the sofa.

“Sit, my love, and lean back with your pussy at the edge of the cushion. Put your feet on the coffee table.”

When I turned to sit he was standing in front of me with that familiar wide stance, crop in hand. Without hesitation, I did as I was told. He moved a big square pillow to the floor between my legs. “Spread your legs more, my love, so I can see your world.”

I did as told without comment.

“Nice, cher.” His smile was infectious and I smiled back. He kneeled before me and said, “You’re beautiful when you smile. Hell, Nez, you’re beautiful no matter what you’re doing.”

He leaned in and licked my nether region from stem to stern. “Like a kid with an ice cream cone,” I sighed.

“But so much better, my love. Keep your feet on the coffee table.”

I slid down and his tongue ran up from behind my anus all the way to my clit. I could not believe how indulgent it felt and how wonderfully relaxed I was. Repeatedly he licked, and then put his tongue inside me and sucked my vagina. My insides were doing cartwheels.

He put his beautiful mouth on my clit and said in a rumbly voice, “Mizzzzzzzzz Nezzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz” as he shook his head back and forth. The vibration from his voice made my muscles clinch in pleasure. I wanted this to go on forever.

He stopped abruptly, kissed my anus, my labia, my clit, my tummy, my right breast and then my left, said “Excuse me,” and left.

I sat with my feet on the coffee table, legs open, unable to move. My heart was racing and my legs began to shake. I closed my eyes and thought about his wealth. Being a whore would not be a bad occupation, especially considering his kindness toward those less fortunate. He genuinely helped people. I could get used to this. Sunny’s voice said,
Breathe, baby. Just breathe through it
, and so I did, and came back from the ecstatic brink.

When I opened my eyes, Mr. Delacroix stood before me, shirtless, dressed in black silk pants. He held a sheer, chartreuse robe that resembled gossamer butterfly wings because it shimmered with gold as it moved under the low light.

“Okay, Nez, time to get down to business,” he said as he handed me the robe. “You can take your gloves off now, but I like the shoes, so keep them on and sit here on the pillow.” He pointed to the floor. “If the pillow isn’t comfortable, let me know. This is where you’ll spend most of your time. I want you to feel comfortable and cherished,” he said, placing a manila file folder on the coffee table.

“Thank you, my lord.” I sat on the pillow, placed my legs together, and leaned back on the sofa.

He smiled wide. “You’re welcome, my dream.” He sat behind me on the sofa, straddled my back, and rubbed my shoulders gently, pulling me into him.

“If there is ever anything you need or want, let me know. Your pleasure is my utmost priority.”

His hands were magic on my shoulders. “Thank you, sir, I’m very comfortable.”

“Good. Now let’s have a look at our contract, shall we?” He reached over and opened the folder to reveal an official-looking document. “First thing, cher, is this document isn’t legally binding, okay? You can negotiate points or break the agreement anytime you want, as can I, so neither one of us is ultimately forced into anything we don’t want to do. All of this is for our mutual success. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” I said.

“Very good. We can start with expectations and behaviors. As we’ve already discussed, you’ll call me by my surname, or ‘sir,’ or ‘my lord’—” he stopped to write “my lord” on the contract, “but I reserve the ‘lord’ salutation for when we’re at home.” He was writing the words as he was speaking. “When we’re here in our home, I am your lord. Do you understand?”

“
Our
home, my lord?”

“Yes. My home is your home.”

“Indefinitely?” I asked.

“Indefinitely
what
, Nez?”

“Indefinitely, my lord?”

He patted my head. “For as long as our agreement is intact, my home is your home. The contract renewal is upon review by both parties every six months. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

We went through other various behaviors for when we were home and in public and at Twisted Oak.

“Will we spend much time at your plantation home, sir? Is it far from here?”

“I hope as time goes by, if you’re comfortable with me, we’ll spend a lot of time out there, especially after I take over next month. It isn’t far, but it is a world apart. It’s my family legacy, Nezzie. The most important thing in my life is to keep that place going, to bring it back to the way it once was. And I want you to be a part of it. But we’ll take it one step at a time and get used to one another first.”

He leaned over and looked me in the eyes. “I want you to understand the importance of being part of my family legacy. Nez, I’ve never felt like I do about you being at Twisted Oak. I feel as though you belong there somehow, so I . . .” He paused and I was unsure whether he was speaking to me or himself. “One step at a time.” He let out a long sigh. “There are a lot of things to consider; namely, the family that extends beyond Sunny and Ty.”

His demeanor unnerved me and reminded me to proceed with caution. “Like Mr. and Mrs. Scott, sir?” I asked.

“Especially Mr. and Mrs. Scott.”

I wanted to ask him more about his contract with Mr. Scott. I was curious about him taking over the family estate. When would it happen and what were his responsibilities? I wondered in the back of my mind if my signing the contract would bring me closer to his fortune, but his words interrupted my thoughts.

“Mostly, when we’re with the family, you still answer to me and I will be your guide and teacher. You’ll take no orders from anyone but me unless otherwise specified. I don’t want there to be any confusion as to whom you belong to. As far as your public behavior, I will dictate how you address me on a case-by-case basis, but you will never venture out in the city on your own. You will always have an escort, between Sunny, Ty, or anyone I see fit. Once you’re comfortable at Twisted Oak, we will discuss the freedoms you may or may not have while we are there. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Before we go any further, I want to talk about safe words and actions. The universal safe words are ‘yellow’ for getting close to your limit and ‘red’ which means you’ve reached your limit and I need to stop. We can use those words or, if you prefer, we can make up something else.”

“What do you prefer, my lord?”

“I’d like to stick with these. That way there is no confusion, especially if there are more than two participants.”

“Okay, my lord,” I said, making a mental note to ask about the multiple participants before the discussion ended.

“In cases where you cannot speak, there are safe actions to use: a single pointer finger for yellow and two fingers like a peace sign for red. Nezzie, this is important. The use of safe words and actions are at your discretion and you
must
use them if you feel you have reached a physical limit. I don’t want to hurt you. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“All right, my love, so on that note, we get into my obligations to Mr. Scott and the family. There may be a time when I give you to him temporarily. During this period, you’re contracted herein to take orders from him; however, for the time being I’ll include a no-lending clause in our contract because frankly, I’m not sharing you unless I’m a participant. This portion of our agreement, yours and mine, will be settled once you sign, although in the nature of full disclosure, I have to inform you that this portion of my agreement with Mr. Scott is currently under negotiation. Do you understand?”

“My lord, does this mean he can command you to give me to him at any time? What if I don’t wanna go?”

“Indeed, this is why it’s important to make it very clear in our contract that you do not agree to be lent out to other doms. Once this happens, my negotiations with Mr. Scott will reflect your wishes; after all, we don’t force people into scenes they don’t agree upon ahead of time. It’ll be okay now because I have a point from which to negotiate with him. Do you understand?”