Rocky Raccoon Ch. 04

It was easy for us to get in the whorehouse. There are few pleasure houses here for black men, but once across the border anything was possible if the money is there. I asked for Celeste and got her. She sighed and fainted dead away when she saw me. The owner was starting to get nervous so I beat him to death in five blows and there was very little noise. I opened the back door and we slaughtered everyone involved in the scheme with clubs and knives, including a woman who said he'd delivered three others in the last two years. We killed them, threw them and what little they had in a wagon and were forty miles over the border before we stopped. We could still see the flames from the whorehouse on the American side of the river far into the night."

The poor girls were pretty much destroyed. We gave each back to their families. One refused to take her back, so we found her a place to live and an occupation. She is bookkeeper to a rich merchant and he's very protective of her. They've fallen in love but have to be really discrete because their skin tones do not match.

Celeste never recovered from her ordeal. She was terrified of any man outside the family, and after four months she disappeared into a cloister and joined the Sisters of St. Claire. She seems happy there and refuses to leave the grounds. The sisters are kind to her and I saw her smile the last time we visited. Her first smile in two years."

He drew a long breath before finishing. "So you see, Rocky, there are many here who were shocked to find he'd been back among us and slipped away. Besides us, there are three more families who would pay dearly for a few minutes of Mr. Bradshaw's time."

I stood against the porch railing lost in thought. How could one man wreak so much misery on so many people and still be lucky enough to breathe? Pierre broke my mood by slapping me on the back. "And that, my friend, is why I was so willing to train you. If you get a chance make his death as slow, miserable and painful as possible."

I was never happier to make a promise in my whole life.

*****

My brother arrived and was immediately enthralled with the steam engines. He spent every spare minute he had in the foundry. Gaston and Aunt Aggie were taken with him and when they brought up the idea of getting a degree in engineering, I knew it would be a long time before he saw a Dakota winter again. By the time I left he was enrolled in college and living permanently with the Duprees. Besides the education he was receiving, he was very much taken with the social scene and the beauty of the locals.

Speaking of manners, Gaston took me to the side one day and handed me a card, suggesting I visit soon. It came to pass that at six one evening I was standing at the door of a modest but well-appointed cottage. The lawn and gardens were immaculately kept and the whole thing had a fairy tale feel.

I was prepared for a lot of things and inordinately proud of my ability not to be shaken and remaining calm in all situations. What I was not prepared for was the absolute vision that opened the door.

She had raven locks that tumbled down her back, sparkling green eyes set in a dusky ivory face, and a smile that would melt the heart of the most miserable of men. Her dress was fashionable, aside from a neckline that allowed plenty of cleavage to be on display.

The vision giggled at my expression and extended a delicate hand. "I'm most pleased to meet you Mr. McGill. I am Marie Delacroix."

Still not understanding exactly what was going on I took her hand and bowed to kiss it. After a quick peck she slid her hand across my face, lingering on my jawline. "You have a good face. Strong without being harsh, open without being gullible and your eyes are mesmerizing."

I had been told a lot of things in my life but never once had anyone said my eyes were mesmerizing. "Madame, at the risk of being rude, why am I here?"

"Please, come in. All will be revealed shortly and I believe you will be pleased. Before we go farther, I must tell you this is not a forgone conclusion. Only after lengthy conversation will I decide."

By now, we were in a very comfortably designed parlor and she sat me on the sofa, offered me a choice of whiskeys and approved when I asked for dark rum, instead.

Miss Delacroix sat on a small chair she had drawn up so we were face to face. She stared at me before smiling again. "You have no idea why you're here, do you?"

"None at all, madame, but you are very pleasant company so I hope I like the reasons."

That made her smile brighter. "Good, good. You think on your feet and can be quite charming when you apply yourself. I have a very specialized profession, Mr. McGill. I am a courtesan. Please do not confuse my profession with prostitution, it is far from the same and I would be insulted if you did. I do not take on anyone who knocks on my door. There are criteria.

First, they must be clean and presentable and have at least the rudiments of manners. They must not be prone to violence and they must always behave like a gentleman unless the situation demands otherwise. And the most important thing is they must be discreet. My business is just that, my business. I only take on clients by word of mouth from respectable people I can trust, and you come highly recommended. Any questions?"

"Just the one. Why am I here again?"

"You are here, Mr. Mcgill, to improve your social skills as well as your skills as a lover. When our association is over you will go from a rough-cut diamond to a polished gem. And understand this. I only take on one client at a time and they must remain faithful to our arrangement. For the time we share I will be your only lover, as I yours. Understood and accepted?"

I didn't say anything for so long she was starting to get nervous.

"Has a mistake been made here? You were aware of the arrangement, weren't you?"

"Ma'am, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"This is most unusual! I was assured you had full knowledge of my services and were most willing to avail yourself of them. I must apologize, sir."

I sighed and leaned back against the sofa. "Does the name Gaston DuPree, Dr. Adam Peyton, or James Templeton mean anything to you?"

"They are three of my oldest patrons. They are also part of a group paying for this experience. I think, sir, that they have played a joke on us. I'm sure our next conversation will be most awkward."

I smiled and stood. "Please do no judge them harshly. I'm sure they meant well. Regardless of how we came to be here, it was one of the great pleasures of my life to meet you madame. I wish you continued success."

Somehow, I think I offended her. Not personally, but professionally.

"Do you not think I'm attractive? Intelligent? Witty?""

"Ma'am, you're one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen. You're probably smarter right now than I would ever be if I attended university for the next ten years, and while I can't prove it, I'm sure you have a razor-sharp wit capable of many things."

She preened a little under the compliment. "Then why not avail yourself of my services? I'm sure you could afford my fees, but they have already been paid. Consider it a continuing of your education?"

"What education?"

"Why, the ways of women, chere. I'm sure if they gave degrees for sexual education, I would be a PhD or even a Professor Emeritus."

She stood, shrugged and the gown slid down her body, leaving her in very racy underthings. I don't think I'd ever seen that much lace and that many ribbons in my whole life. She smirked. "I see I have your attention, Mr. McGill. This ensemble was made for me by the most prominent lingerie designer in Paris. There is a trick to it. Pull on the right ribbon and the whole thing unravels. Care to further your education?"

*****

Surprisingly the first two nights were spent in conversation. Marie was obviously well educated, could speak four languages and was surprised that I spoke German, enough Spanish to get me by, Sioux and Cheyenne. It also impressed her that while I had no formal education, I was well read and knowledgeable on many subjects.

The second night she probed me about my sexual experiences. I think she was a little surprised at some of my answers. When she asked if I had ever bedded two women at once I grinned.

"Yes, I have."

She wanted to know what kinds of positions I'd experienced and was again impressed. When she asked how many women I had been with, I had to think a bit. There was Vivian, the widow from the railroad, Nancy, Doe Eyes, Smiles and Bluebird. Six in total. Next was about the usage of tongues and fingers, and I admitted I'd given and received oral and enjoyed it. She smirked when she asked if I had ever experienced a woman's back passage and I admitted I'd never even thought about it.

The next few nights I was taught the proper way to kiss to give the woman a good experience with and without the use of tongue. On Friday I got to see her naked for the first time and was awed. I was surprised that we did not engage in any sexual activity, even though I really, really wanted to. Instead, she taught me about erogenous zones and how to listen to the breathing and body responses to different stimuli. I probably kissed every part of her body a dozen times and when I stopped, she asked me what I had noticed.

"You seemed to appreciate almost everything, but I noticed that when my tongue hit the back of your knees you quivered. You also responded to light nibbles on your ears and shoulders. and to a more minor degree, to my tongue going down your spine all the way to your bottom."

"Very good! Most men would have said nipples and breasts, and while most women do enjoy the attention, it's the secret spots that gets their blood going."

I, in turn, learned that when she nibbled the back of my neck or lightly bit a nipple it provoked a response every time. We performed oral on each other and she said I needed training but had real talent. Words could not describe her talents, and any feeble attempt I made would fall far short. She knew how to control a man, how to bring him to the brink and back off leaving him frustrated and almost delirious with want before becoming aggressive and bringing him off quickly.

Saturday, we made love. It wasn't sex the first time; it was about learning your partner. She seemed pleased with my equipment, saying I had more to work with than most and guiding me into reaching my potential several times over the course of the night.

Three weeks later I used a woman's back passage for the first time. I wasn't keen on trying it, but Marie insisted I round out my education. It involved lots of lotion and it was an experience I really enjoyed, but probably wouldn't pursue. Marie grinned at my profuse thanks.

"Do not expect it from your partners. Many think it disgusting, as they do oral. Every once in a while, you find a woman that is adventurous and willing to try new things. If you do, you must be a gentleman and never speak of it out of respect for your partner. Treat her as a queen, unless she wants something else."

I was lectured constantly on sexual techniques and different responses. "All women like to be taken by their man as long as he's not too rough, but some like it a bit more intense. I have a competitor whose specialty is just that. Not to my taste and she is constantly bruised, but she loves it that way. Even she has limits, and there has been occasion where she's had to terminate her contracts early."

"Men are strange creatures. They are chameleons, changing with the environment to blend in. The man you hate so much is one. As was your wife to a lesser degree. Should you catch them, do not make her suffer overmuch. She was probably overwhelmed and was in too deep before she realized it."

She knew of Bradshaw. She met once at a party, but wise in the ways of the world, she had him pegged in less than a minute. "I think he recognized that and the look he gave me made me very glad we were around a lot of people. It is my opinion that he thinks of himself as a special person, above the masses, and that makes him very dangerous. I suggest you have friends with you when you confront him."

I hadn't thought of that, but it was probably very good advice. While I did not pay her, I did present her with a token of my esteem at the end of the contract. She had a fondness for pearls and I had a choker made with matching earrings. The pearls were specially chosen because their dusky hues matched her skin tone perfectly. It was fairly costly, but I considered her worth it. It was very surprising to see her cry. She'd cried once early on in our sessions and it broke my heart.

By then we were frank with each other and spoke of many things. I asked her how she avoided pregnancies and she went still and quiet. "I cannot have children, Rocky. Something happened to me in the past that makes it impossible."

I could tell I hit a sensitive subject so I tried changing the subject. She seemed to want to talk about it. "I was eleven years old when the war started. My mother and I were owned by a very bad man and she died right after the commencement of hostilities. Master was an intelligent person and knew his way of life was doomed if his side lost. He had a plantation in Cuba and it was his intent to move his residence there, taking all his slaves with him. The blockades thwarted his plans by boat, so he decided to smuggle us to Mexico and embark from there."

"Mother had died and she was his choice of a bedwarmer. He tried some of his other female slaves, but none possessed the beauty of my mother so it was unsatisfying to him. I was growing up by the, and another woman took me into her cabin and hid me for a while. He found out, somehow, and nearly beat the woman to death, then dragged me to his mansion and bed. I was dry, a virgin and he took me repeatedly. I suffered as if being tortured, and he damaged me quite badly. The doctors I consulted later said I had extensive scarring that would not allow any children."

Slow soft tears were drifting down her cheeks so I picked her up and put her on my lap and she seemed to appreciate it. I burned with anger for a monster I had never met and she told me later things like that were quite common at the time, though most girls were older than she was when they were taken.

"Where is this man now?"

She saw the rage on my face and it made her smile through her tears. "If what the priests taught us is true, he has a very special place in hell right now. Two more years went by. The South was losing the war and everyone could see the writing on the wall. I was kept almost like a pet. He even had a leash and collar he liked to put on me. One night he got drunk and bragged how he had finally arranged for some smugglers to take us away through the bayous, making it impossible to find us. He laughed and told me he'd probably sell me down the line somewhere because he wanted more cash.

"He was drinking wine and had a cheese platter by the bed. The knife wasn't the sharpest, but I had built up a lot of rage and it was easy for me to put it through his eye. He floundered around like a drunk and every time he got close to me, I stabbed another body part. The last was to his crotch and he collapsed like a balloon. I stabbed him several more times before burying it to the hilt in the other eye.

"It took him twenty minutes to die and I've always hoped he thought he was going to live, even though he was blind and would never bother another woman again. I was young, but wise before my time.

"I gathered the slaves that were left and explained what I had done. They were terrified, but I told them all we had to do was stick to his plan. Everyone thought we were leaving, anyway, so that is what we did. I gave each a little money and wished them the best of luck. I kept the woman who sheltered me and her husband. We loaded most of the furniture, silverware, dishes and anything else we thought might be useful onto wagons and hid them.

"I knew where his safe was and it took us several hours to break into it. There was quite a bit of money, some deeds, some other papers, and a few items of jewelry from his late wife. We took everything and then burned the mansion down."

"Weren't you afraid you'd get caught?"

"Terrified. I don't think I slept twelve hours in a month. When nothing happened and there was no hue and cry, I relaxed. Then I got to thinking and contacted someone I thought could help me. For a goodly sum of money, he took the deed to the Cuban plantation and advertised it for sale with him as proxy. We used to laugh when we got replies but after a month, we sold it. I got half and my agent got half.

"When the war was over, his son returned, looked at the burned-out shell of his house and decided he would leave the country and settle on the Cuban estate. Imagine his surprise when he got off the boat and found someone else living there. He tried to sue, but the locals weren't giving him much to work with and the forger my factor had found had duplicated the signature to the point that the courts declared it genuine. Add to that the fact that his father was missing and couldn't verify one way or another, and he didn't have much of a case. He came back here to discover the plantation had also been sold, ostensibly to finance the move to Cuba. Again, the signature was perfect. He found himself destitute and penniless and disappeared into the West."

Wow. It really wouldn't do to anger this sweet looking little woman. "That gives me your background. If you don't mind my asking, how did you end up choosing this profession?"

She shrugged. "After I recovered and the trauma faded, I learned that sex could be downright enjoyable. I still drifted a little until I made the acquaintance of Madame Meloncohn. She recognized a similar creature and cultivated our friendship. We ended up going to the Continent for two years where I refined my craft. The French are particularly good teachers because few have inhibitions. After a year, I agreed to be a companion to a French equivalent to a Count and we spent nine months traveling. I saw Switzerland, Germany, Belgium. Finland and Sweden. He had business interests in those countries and I learned a lot about finance and business from him.

"Finally, it became time to return to his wife so he sent her a letter telling her when to expect him so she could get any lovers she had out of the house. The French are very understanding people when it comes to sexual liaisons."

"Forgive me for asking, but doesn't it get old? You have no permanent relationships, no close friends, no family. Does it not get lonely at times?"

"Yes, it does but I won't be doing this forever. I plan to retire from the business in three years and find a widower with small children. Someone to love and dote on. He will be a very lucky man and I intend to keep him realizing that. It will be far from here where no one will know my past. I'll tell everyone I'm a widow just wanting to get away from my past, and it won't be much of a lie."

I held her a little longer and wished her the best of luck. That was on Thursday, and by Sunday, she was gone from my life.

By then it was almost October, and I had long overstayed my estimated time there. Gaston held a small party for me and I was surprised to see the guests were mixed, racially. Pierre and Monique were there as well as some of their business partners. My poker instructors were there, as were the Templeton brothers. Gaston had enticed the elder out of wallowing in self-pity, and currently he was designing more tool applications for steam, including one whose only function was to carry passengers from place to place.

"It will be like a land locomotive, a horseless carriage capable of carrying people great distances in a very short amount of time."